“Whatever is the matter?” asked Mr. Winthrop in dismay, startled out of his usual placidity by her frightened mien. “Dan—Dan Murlock’s baby—it’s gone, sir” “Gone? Gone where?” “No one knows, sir. He was playing in the garden, safe and sound, only five minutes before, and when Moll went to call him in to put him to bed, he had vanished.” “It’s impossible for the child to have gone far,” said the vicar. “Why, he is only a baby!” “Three last month, sir.” “Has any one looked for him? What have they done?” “The child can’t be spirited away,” said Alan. “Why, there’s no traffic in the village that could possibly hurt him.” Mrs. Skeet looked scared. “If you please, sir,” she half whispered, “the people do say, as ’ow it’s the ‘Curse’ and that he has been spirited away.” The vicar blinked his eyes. “Nonsense, Mrs. Skeet! I’m ashamed of you. Never let me hear such words from you again. Spirited away indeed! I expect he has strayed away into the woods at the back of the Murlocks’ cottage. Come, lads, we’ll go down and see Dan and his wife, and do our best to help them.” Taking up their hats the three made their way down the street, usually so quiet and still, but now buzzing with excitement. As they reached the Murlocks’ cottage, they saw the front door was open wide, leaving the kitchen and garden beyond exposed to view. Curious neighbours, sympathetic friends, open-mouthed children were surrounding the stricken mother, who was rocking herself to and fro in her abandonment and grief. “Let us go through,” said the vicar, and the two boys followed him. The woman heard the approaching footsteps, and lifted up her tear-stained face to the intruders. She held out her hands pathetically to the vicar, and the tears rolled down her cheeks unchecked. He took hold of the toil-worn hands, and was about to speak when she caught sight of the two boys behind him. Her eyes dilated and her body stiffened. Suddenly she uttered a piercing scream, and pointing a shaking hand at them, “Go, go!” she cried. “You came to Marshfielden unbidden—you defied the ‘Curse’—now you have taken my baby—my darling, darling baby!” Dan put his arm about her tenderly. “Do’ant ’ee tak’ on so, lass,” said he gently. “Sure, we’ll find the babby. Already John Skinner and Matt Harding have gone with search parties to find the wee lad. We’ll get him back, wife mine.” But she only looked fiercely at the strangers. “Go—go—the ‘Curse’ is on us all!” Mr. Winthrop silently motioned to the two lads and they quickly left the stricken house, and made their way back to their rooms in silence. The next morning on their way to work, they missed Dan Murlock. Some of the miners eyed them suspiciously as they asked where he was, and Slater, their landlord, was the only one to satisfy their curiosity. “With his wife,” said he curtly. “The wee laddie has not been found.” “Wherever can he be?” said Desmond in bewilderment. Slater shook his head.