‘Indeed, sir, I meant nothing but that we must look at all possible contingencies if we are to find the young lady. It is a long time for her to be away, and, if I mistake not (though I hope you will excuse my mentioning it), the day after her wedding.’ ‘Yes, yes; I don’t care who knows it,’ replied Frederick in a voice of pain. ‘We were only married yesterday, that makes this all the more mysterious and extraordinary; but how are we to ascertain the truth? What am I to do?’ ‘If you will allow me, sir, I will send some of the boatmen who know the cliffs to search for Mrs Walcheren, and they will soon relieve your suspense, for if she is there they will find her safe enough.’ ‘By all means; I ought to have thought of it myself. Thank you, Mr Cameron; pray send for the boatmen as soon as possible, and I will accompany them.’ Mr Cameron looked dubious. ‘If you will permit me, sir, to advise you, I should say stay here, in case of your being wanted, or other news arriving.’ But Frederick was not to be persuaded. ‘Stay here!’ he echoed; ‘what on earth should I do that for? My place is with the men who are going to find her. She has lost her way, probably, and is wandering about in the dark. Of course, I shall accompany them.’ But the landlord kept his back firmly against the door, and prevented the young man passing out. ‘You will forgive me, sir, but you must not go--not just yet--not till I have said something. I have been trying to break it to you, Mr Walcheren, but I am afraid I have done it badly. They _have_ found her, sir. She was found hours ago, and I came to tell you so.’ Frederick Walcheren stared at him, as if he thought he was mad. ‘_Found!_’ he ejaculated, ‘and hours ago. What do you mean? Why has she not come home then? Is she injured--hurt? Has any accident happened to her?’ ‘Yes, sir, there has indeed, and you must try and bear it like a man. The lady has been hurt--badly--and she was found on the beach by two boatmen at five o’clock, or thereabouts.’ ‘Hurt! my darling. Oh! my God! this is hard,’ exclaimed Frederick, in a voice of anguish. ‘But where is she? Why have they not brought her here? Why did they not send for me?’ ‘Well, sir, they did not know where the lady belonged at first, nor who she was, so they carried her to the nearest public-house; “The Bottle and Spurs,” which is half-way down the cliffs to the town.’ ‘A public-house!’ cried Walcheren, indignantly; ‘how dared they take a lady there? What was Mrs Walcheren about, to consent to it? Order a carriage at once, if you please, Mr Cameron, and I will go and fetch her home.’ The landlord fidgeted with the handle of the door.