"One may manage that, I hope, without any ubiquity," said the Colonel, still very gravely; for the old soldier was moved too seriously by this letter to notice the by-play of the youthful drama going on under his eyes. "But I am surprised you are not more excited by your mother's communication, Roger. My dear fellow, it is quite evident now that there must be something in it; and a pretty person to conduct an investigation this Pouncet must be, after what you have just heard. Why, to be sure, referring the search to a guilty party is the very way to keep ourselves in darkness. I'll tell you what, Musgrave; if you do not see after it at once, I shall take the liberty of constituting myself your guardian, and set out to-day." Roger stretched out his hand to meet that of Colonel Sutherland, who had gradually warmed as he spoke. "Amen," said the young man. "Till I can persuade some still kinder and fairer hand to assume the reins, I could not have any guardian I should like so well." "Pshaw!" said Uncle Edward, awakening to the fact that his young guest was speaking at Susan much more than to himself--"never mind fairer hands. What do you mean to do?" Upon which, Roger perceiving that his last shot had taken due effect, grew serious all at once. "It does look at last as if there was something in it," he said. "I have thought all along that if any mischief had been done Pouncet must have known of it; and he was a man of such character! I cannot think yet how it is possible that he could put himself or his reputation in danger to defraud me;--but certainly," continued Roger, growing rather red and wrathful, "the pretence of a sham investigation and a confidential clerk--" "Ah!" cried Uncle Edward, with a sharp short exclamation like a sudden pang--"most likely it was--well, well, well!--_we_ cannot help it; it is to his own Master that each of us standeth or falleth: let us not blame till we know." "Uncle," said Susan in alarm, coming round to his side and sliding her hand into his, "it is something about Horace?--something more?" "No, my love, nothing more--nothing at all that one could build upon," said the Colonel tenderly; "only I rather fear, Susan, as we both did when you came first to Milnehill, that Horace knows of some injury which has been done to Roger, and yet does not let him know." Susan made a momentary pause of shame and distress as her uncle spoke, and then raised her eyes, full of tears and entreaty, to Roger's face. Poor Susan believed that these tears were all about her brother, and would not have acknowledged that a single drop of that gentle rain had relation to the "going away" with which this conversation arose.