They went into the barely furnished parlor, where Barbara found every thing standing as it had stood for years; but no note or letter on table, stand, or mantle-shelf. They next passed into her bed-chamber, where they found every thing in order, but no note or letter. They visited the kitchen and Susan Copsewood’s sleeping-room with no more successful results. And at last, after a thorough but fruitless examination of the whole premises, they were forced to abandon the hopeless search. “All clue seems lost,” exclaimed the baronet, in despair. Lord Montressor could not suppress a deep groan. His strong heart seemed about to break beneath this new blow. “Let us hope,” said Barbara. “We set sail from London for the port of Baltimore, where you, first of all, expected to find her. Let us proceed on our voyage. We may yet come up with her in Baltimore.” “Heaven grant it!” exclaimed the baronet, whose anxiety to find his lost daughter increased with the difficulty and delay. Barbara then gave the old man, Neptune, the money and packets of groceries that she had brought for him; completed the other little arrangements that had brought her to the shore; took her leave of her old servants, and, accompanied by her disappointed and saddened passengers, returned to the vessel. Assembled around the little centre-table of the cabin, they held another consultation. “Had Estelle no friends or neighbors in this place, with whom she might have left a letter or message?” inquired Lord Montressor. “No, there are none nearer than Eastville. And yet now that I think of it, she may have left some charge with my attorney at that village. So if you think best, we will lie at anchor over to-morrow, to ride up thither to make inquiries. What say you, gentlemen?” “Undoubtedly, that is the plan,” replied Lord Montressor and Sir Parke. The party then separated for the night. Early the next morning they went on shore. Old Neptune, being ordered, quickly put the horses to the carry-all. Sir Parke and Miss Brande entered and took the back seat. Lord Montressor and Willful sat in front. The boy took the reins. After a rapid drive of two hours, they reached Eastville, and drew up before the lawyer’s office. Miss Brande alighted and entered, where she found the lawyer seated at his desk, writing. He instantly arose and came forward to meet her. “Good-morning, Miss Brande. Pray take a seat.” “I thank you, no sir. My tenant, Mrs. Estel, has left the Headland. Has she possibly charged you with any letter or message for me?” “Letter? Yes, Miss Brande; here it is,” answered the lawyer, going to his desk and producing the missive. Barbara almost snatched it from his hand, tore it open, and glanced eagerly along its lines. Then, with a deep sigh, she went out and read it to Sir Parke and Lord Montressor. It ran thus:— _The Headland, March 18._