There was the face of the chalk before him, and he was shut in by it right and left, the walls gradually falling lower as he turned back and passed the extinct lime-kiln, till they sloped down to the level of the track--the pit having been gradually dug in the side of the hill, every load taken out cutting farther into the side, and making the principal wall of chalk more precipitous and high. Still, not satisfied, Tom Podmore ran back and hunted in all directions; but as far as he could see nothing was visible, and he turned once more to find the father coming to join him, trembling, and looking ashy pale. "Hev you found her, Tom? hev you found her?" he gasped, and on Tom shaking his head, he caught him by the arm. "Yes," he exclaimed, in a piteous voice, "that's her shawl. Where is she gone?" "I heven't found her," said the young man, hoarsely. "She's not there." "Not there? Not fallen in? Thank God, thank God! But are ye sure, lad? are ye sure?" "I've hunted the place all over," said Tom, sadly; and then Joe Banks clutched his arm tightly, and they went straight back to the town, where Joe stopped at the Big House and was admitted, Tom Podmore following. "Wheer's the master?" said Joe, hastily. "Just come down and gone out," said the girl. "Shall I tell missus?" "Yes," said Joe. "No;" and then to himself, "I can't meet her now." He hurried out and down the street, head after head being thrust out, while the people outside their doors gave him looks of condolence, and shook their heads by way of sympathy. "Tom, lad," said Joe, "I can't kinder understand this; it's amairzin. But look here, lad; go and ask the boys to come and help you, and mebbe you'll get a hundred of 'em ready to search for my bairn. Get the police, too. I'm off to find the young master." Tom started off on his recruiting expedition, while Daisy's father hurried down the street to try and find Richard Glaire, though not with the most remote idea of coupling him with the girl's disappearance. He had nearly reached the vicarage, and was passing one of the side lanes, when he heard voices in altercation, and on glancing round it was to see the man he sought holding Sim Slee by the throat, and shaking him violently. "You treacherous hound!" he was saying, "and after the way I've trusted you." "Joe Banks, here, Joe Banks, help!" yelled Sim; but before Daisy's father could reach the couple, Richard Glaire threw the democrat off, so that he staggered against the wall. "You dog!" cried Richard, grinding his teeth. "All right," whimpered Sim. "All right, Mr Richard Glaire, Esquire. I've stood up for you enew lately; now tak' care of yoursen." "I'll break your head, you scoundrel, if you don't go," roared Richard. Sim rubbed the dust from his person and shook himself straight, looking side-wise the while at his assailant before sidling off, shaking his fist; and then, when about fifty yards away, turning round and shouting: