"I wished to do the thing thoroughly, and I have therefore made over my manor house, 'Grange,' unconditionally to you. "My solicitor will see that all is correctly carried out. You are now absolute master of Grange, Puddifoot: therefore be good enough to go and fill your position there, leaving me to take your place here, and learn by my own experience whether your circumstances are as happy as it has been my duty to make them. Before making over the property, I left written instructions to my--your--steward that I should be treated here precisely the same as you have been; and I will beg you to allow this to stand. John!" continued the Squire, grasping the grocer's hand and gazing into his eyes, "I can trust you. You will not play me false. At some future time I _might_ ask you to re-convey the house to me, and annul this act of mine. You would have power to refuse--but you will not!" [Illustration: "HE WENT STRAIGHT AWAY."] The bewildered grocer began to murmur some unintelligible ejaculations. "Swear it, John Puddifoot--swear it on all you hold sacred--here--this ledger of yours; the very thing. Swear it, and keep faith!" Benumbed with wonder, the grocer obeyed, scratched his head, opened his mouth three times, but closed it again in obedience to the Squire's uplifted finger; and put on his hat and walked aimlessly towards the manor house. The Squire watched him until he had turned the distant corner; then he locked the door again, and commenced to search every cupboard, drawer, and corner as he had done at Grange. Taking the grocer's keys--(the grocer was a bachelor, and the maid-of-all-work was away at the village school)--he went all over the house, looking in everything--even the pockets of the grocer's clothes; then he searched the shop, poked about under the rice and sugar and lentils, peered into the tea and coffee reservoirs, the till, the scales, the drawers, the empty jars. Only desisting now and again to give some food to little Rupert, he went on breathlessly at this search until they had lighted the evening lamp behind the red blind of the "Vensleigh Arms" up the hill. Then he sank on to the sofa beside the child, and let his head drop between his hands, and sat, and sat, and sat. "It _must_ be here--it _must_--must!" he kept muttering. "Mrs. Wriggs herself noticed such a little flat case in a parcel of odds and ends bought by Puddifoot. Can he have burned it, without opening it? Can he have given it away? It _must_ be here, surely!" Long before this the rumour of the Squire's "madness" had gone through the village, and many boys and a few adults had tried to peep in through the shop window, but they could not see in, and the shop door had been locked all day. In the evening Mr. Pergamen had come down again, and had given a few of the leading villagers some reason or other, more or less satisfying, for the Squire's conduct. These explanations were tame enough, but they quieted matters down a little.