Slowly he pulled back and made his boat fast again. What could he now do better than to return to the castle? Perhaps he would find them there. Something might have frightened them and sent them back; or Cordelia might have felt unwell and gone home for that cause. If he did not find them he could give the alarm and set the servants of the household upon the search. And the sooner that was done the better. So back to the castle he went. It was near ten o’clock when he arrived. Had Lady Cordelia come home? was his first question. The old steward looked at him in wonder. How did he expect her to come home, when she had gone away on purpose to sail with him in his boat? No. She hadn’t come. While they were speaking--they were in the main hall--the earl joined them. He had heard, and recognized, young Maitland’s voice, and he was anxious to know what had brought him back so soon, and, he was sure, alone. The story was quickly told. The old man was in agony. That some direful calamity had befallen he was sure. “Oh, Percy! Percy! We must find her! You will not forsake me in this great need?” “Forsake you, my lord; I would give my life at this moment, were she in danger, to rescue her from it! My hand and my heart are yours until she shall be found. We shall find her, sir. I am sure we shall find her--though it may take time. Oh, no one could harm her! Who could have the heart?” “Oh, Percy, those dreadful pirates! They know that I have been ordered to put forth my hand against them; and this may be a means they have adopted for gaining a powerful hold upon me!” And from that moment the earl seemed to look upon the smuggler’s son as his one stay and support. Percy’s thoughts took a different direction from those of the earl. He was inclined to regard Lord Oakleigh as the villain whose hand had thus been laid upon them. Look at it in what way he might, he could not put away the belief. Not only the young lord’s character--his heartlessness, his recklessness, and his desire to possess the lady--pointed him out as the probable culprit; but he had made threats--he had sworn to the girl herself, with a horrible oath--that he would make her his own very soon. Yes. Percy believed Lord Oakleigh to be the man; but he would not say so yet. Time should show. First, however, they must gain some sign--some token of the whereabouts of the missing ones. The servants had collected and a general interchange of opinions had taken place--as weak and aimless as such interchanges usually are--when the earl, after a time of painful thought, looked toward the smuggler’s son, and finally went up to him and laid his trembling hand on his shoulder.