still busied about her master. "Don't ye
give way. It may not be so bad as we're
afeard."

"So bad as what? What does Mr.
Plew mean? What are you all afraid of?
Oli, Veronica!"

"Here he is, sir! Here's Jemmy!" cried
Joe Dowsett, dragging Jemmy Sack into
the room after him. " I was on my way
to the farm when I met him. Now speak,
you young rascal, and tell his reverence
what Miss Veronica said to you!"

The boy was flushed, panting, and very
much frightened. Joe had expended a
great part of his own painful excitement
in haling Jemmy Sack to the vicarage with
very unnecessary violence.

"I bain't a young rascal!" said Jemmy,
driven to bay. " And I told the message
here last night as Miss Veroniky said, so
I did."

"Don't be afraid, Jemmy," said Maud,
trying to soothe the boy. " No one will
hurt you. You have done no harm."

"No, I knows I haven't!" retorted
Jemmy.

"But you will tell us what—what Miss
Veronica said, won't you, Jemmy? We are
all in sad trouble because we're afraid some
harm has happened to her, and we want to
find out where she is."

The sight of the sweet, pale face, down
which the tears were now streaming fast,
and the sound of the sweet, tremulous
voice, instantly melted the boy's heart,
and he professed his readiness to say all
that he knew. But that amounted to very
little. He had seen Miss Veronica at the
school-house. But she had not remained
until the end of the practising. Before
leaving, she had said to Jemmy that she
was going to Mrs. Plew's house to drink
tea, and that, as the evening was turning
out wet, she should sleep there. Jemmy
was to go and take that message to the
vicarage. But he was not to go until quite
late; not until after seven o'clock at all
events. And Miss Veronica had given him
a silver sixpence, and bade him earn it
honestly by doing exactly as she told him.

"And so I did," protested Jemmy. " I
niver goe'd near the vicarage until nigh
upon eight o'clock, and it was powering
wi' rain, and I was soaked through, and
when I got home, daddy thrashed me."

Old Joanna stood by, emphasising every
word that the boy uttered, by a nod of the
head, a sigh, or a gesture with uplifted
hands; as who should say, " Aye, aye! It
is just as I thought!" Ever since the speaking
of those words by Mr. Plew, which
so aroused the vicar's indignation, the
latter had sat passive—almost sullen—in
his chair. He had listened to Jemmy Sack's
story in silence, and had apparently relinquished
his purpose of going forth to seek
his  daughter.Now he rose, as though
struck by a sudden idea, and hastily left
the room. His footsteps were heard ascending
the staircase, and entering the apartment
overhead. It was Veronica's chamber.
The steps ceased, and there was silence in
the house.The little group in the dining
parlour stood staring blankly at each other.

Maud's tears had ceased to flow. She
was frozen by a new, and but half-
comprehended fear.

Presently Catherine ran in from the
kitchen. People had come to give what
information they could. By this time the
whole village was acquainted with
Veronica's disappearance. Roger the ploughman's
wife had seen Miss Levincourt by
herself, walking along the Shipley Magna
road very fast. Miss had not said good
afternoon to her. But she (Roger's wife)
thought she might not have seen her, for
she was going along in a quick, scared
kind of a way, looking straight before
her.

Immediately after this woman, appeared
a witness who testified to having seen the
vicar's daughter in a carriage, driving
swiftly on the road between Shipley Magna
and Danecester, between five and six
o'clock on the previous evening.

This man was the Shipley-in-the-Wold
and Danecester carrier, who knew Veronica
well by sight, as he did most people within
a circuit of twenty miles round Shipley.
He had just heard, he said, down at the
Red Cow, that the young lady was missing.
So he thought he would step up and say
when and where he had last seen her.

On hearing the first words of this man's
story, Maud had rushed breathlessly
upstairs to call her guardian. In a few
minutes she returned alone to the door of
the dining-room, and beckoned Mr. Plew
to come to her.

The babble of voices, which had arisen
high and confused when she had left the
room, ceased suddenly as soon as her white
face was seen again in the doorway. There
was a pause of expectation.

"What is it?" whispered Mr. Plew,
obeying Maud's summons.

"Will you please step into the study to
Uncle Charles for a moment, Mr. Plew?"

She preceded him into the study. The