"I am called away on business which may turn out well for you. When I'll come back, miss, I don't know; but wait in hope. Stand by and nail your colors to the mast. Don't trust no one but Mr. Thorold. Your prayers, honored miss, are requested for your humble servant, "Joseph Brill." "Most extraordinary!" said Miss Vicky, and laid down the letter to gaze blankly at Sophy. "I shall go mad with all this worry!" cried the poor girl, taking the letter. "Oh, dear Vicky, everything has gone wrong since father died." "Hush! Don't talk of it, Sophia. Your pa's remains have gone, but his soul is above. Dr. Warrender has been buried, and the verdict of twelve intelligent men has been given. We must think no more of these matters. But Joseph's letter----" "Is more of a mystery than all the rest put together," finished Sophy. "Just listen to the nonsense Joe writes: 'I'm called away on business.' What business, Vicky?--and how can it turn out well for me? He doesn't know when he'll come back; that means he won't come back at all. 'Wait in hope.' Hope of what, for goodness' sake, Vicky? And Alan--of course, I'll trust no one but Alan. How absurd to put that in! Then he finishes by asking my prayers, just as though he were going to die. Vicky, is Joe mad?" "No; Joseph is too clear-headed a man to lose his wits. It's my opinion, Sophia, that he's gone to search for your poor papa's remains." This was Alan's opinion also when he read the letter, and heard of Joe's disappearance. He questioned the servants, but they could give no details. The page, who slept in the same room, declared that he woke at six o'clock to find Joe's bed empty; but this did not alarm him, as Joe was always the first in the house to be up. So Alan went to the railway-station, and learnt there that the old sailor, carrying some things tied up in a handkerchief, had taken the 6.30 train to the junction. A wire to the junction station-master, who knew Joe, elicited the reply that he had gone on to London by the express. Beyond this it was hopeless to attempt to trace him; for at Waterloo Station Joe had vanished into the crowd, and was lost. Alan told the lamenting Sophy that nothing could now be done but wait for his return. "But will he return?" demanded the girl tearfully. "I think so. I agree with Miss Vicky: Joe has gone to search for your father's body." "But he has no idea where it is. If he did, he would surely have told me or you, Alan, knowing how anxious we are!" "He may have a clue, and may want to follow it up himself. And I believe, Sophy, that Joe knows more about the matter than we think. Do you remember that he gave Cicero a sovereign to leave the Moat House?" "What of that?" "Only that a sovereign was a large sum for a servant like Joe to give. He thought, no doubt, that Cicero knew too much, and he wanted to get him away before he could be questioned. It was his guilty conscience which made him so generous." "Guilty conscience, Alan? What had Joe done?"