The result of this was that two rewards were offered--one thousand for the detection of the person who had stolen the body, and a like sum for any information likely to lead to the arrest of Warrender's murderer. So here were two thousand pounds going a-begging, and hundreds of people hoped to have a chance of gaining the money. The case was so strange and mysterious that it had attracted not a little attention, and the fact that the missing body was that of a millionaire added to the interest excited by the fact of its disappearance. The London papers were full of leaders and letters suggesting solutions of the mystery. The provincial press took up the cry, and throughout the three kingdoms every one was talking of the case. It was even said that Miss Marlow, the present possessor of all this wealth, would marry the person who secured the thief and the murderer. "I won't marry you, Alan dear, until my father's body is back in the vault," said Sophy; "but at the same time, I won't marry any one else." "But suppose I fail to find the body, Sophy?" "Then I must remain a spinster for the rest of my life." "In that case you condemn me to be a crusty old bachelor." "Never mind. We can still be friends and lovers." "I'd rather we were man and wife," sighed Alan. But he did not believe that she would cling to this idea of perpetual spinsterhood for any length of time. As for Miss Vicky, she thought Sophy mad to have thought of such a thing, and took her roundly to task. "A woman ought to marry," she said, breaking through the barriers of her ordinary primness. "Do you think, if my darling had lived, I should now be a wretched old maid? No, indeed! It would have been my delight to have been an obedient and loving wife to Edward." "I'm sure I wish he had lived!" cried Sophy, embracing her; "and I won't have you call yourself crabbed. You are the sweetest, dearest woman in the world!" "So poor Edward thought," sighed Miss Vicky, fingering the precious brooch which always decorated some portion of her small person. "Alas the day! How often he told me so! But he died for his country on the field of glory," she cried, with a thrill of pride; "and in spite of my lonely old age, I don't grudge his precious blood. Noble--noble Edward!" and she wept. "Don't cry any more, Vicky." "It's your obstinacy I'm crying at, Sophia. If your poor dear pa's remains are not found within a certain time, marry Mr. Thorold and be happy." "I can't--I won't. How can I be happy knowing poor father isn't at rest?" "His soul is at rest--the earthly tabernacle is nothing. Come, Sophia, don't break with your life's happiness!" "Alan and I understand one another, Vicky. I dare say we shall marry some day. But the body must be found." "Lord grant it!" ejaculated Miss Vicky piously, and said no more. For she found that the more she argued the more obstinate Sophy grew.