He had intended to arrive in season to be present at the commencement exercises, but was unavoidably detained. He was deeply disappointed, for he knew well enough that his friend would take the first honors, and he wished to be among the first to congratulate him upon his success. Unlike his rival, Ralph Moulton, his noble nature repelled the idea of allowing a feeling of jealousy and ill-will to spring up in his heart because the object of his love refused to listen to his suit. When Fredrich Weimher was informed of Robert’s sudden disappearance, and also its cause—for in some mysterious way it had leaked out, in defiance of Mr. Ellerton’s reticence upon the subject—he was astonished beyond expression. But when he learned that his father also had vanished in the same unaccountable manner, together with the horse which he had hired for his ride—and, stranger than all else, leaving his luggage behind him—he looked grave and troubled. He felt convinced that all was not right, that there was foul play somewhere, and resolved to set himself about unraveling the mystery. Ronald Edgerton, on hearing of his interest in the matter, sought him out, and taking him to his room, related all he knew of the affair, together with what he had overheard in the closet which communicated with the plotter’s room. “I know the young man you speak of,” replied Fredrich Weimher, in reply to the other’s story. “I met him several times in New York; he is very fine looking, though his principles are none of the best; still I always felt that there was some good about him. I knew of his admiration for Miss Dupont, and now you say he is going to force her into a marriage with him.” “Yes, I heard him swear it!” returned the man, with a look of pain upon his rough but fine-looking face. “But they have left the place, I hear,” said Fredrich. “They started to leave the place last night,” replied Edgerton, in a whisper, “but were intercepted about five miles from here, their driver knocked senseless from his seat, which was immediately occupied by another man, and the unfortunate ladies driven off to a place of security.” “How do you know all this?” “Partly from the coachman himself, whom I discovered lying half dead upon the ground, where he had fallen, and partly from my own knowledge of what is transpiring among these regions.” “Where is the man now?” asked Fredrich. “He is safe, and under good care; and no one knows anything about the affair except those who have the charge of him and myself. Of course,” he added, “I mean aside from those who instigated the deed.” “Who do you think are the instigators? Do you think the Moultons would dare commit such an act, and if so, where have they carried their captives?” “I know that, personally, Squire Moulton and his nephew had nothing to do with the abduction, but that it was some one or two of the smugglers who did it for them, and for their money. I also know where they are at the present moment.”