Mrs. Jackson disclaimed all responsibility for the dinner, and had not set eyes on Mr. Hawke.
"Then I won't wait for him," said Gordon. "Bring the dinner in! I will just go up and wash."
"And change your clothes."
"I haven't any clothes to change into," he said, with a laugh. "You might lay another plate," he added. "Mr. Hawke may appear yet."
So Gordon dined, and opposite to him a place was laid for the man who was lying dead on Scafell.
The one thing which troubled Gordon was the recollection of the blow he had struck with his fist. He despised himself for that; and besides, the look with which Hawke had returned it somehow remained fixed in his mind. Strive as he might, he could not banish it. Everything else he had intended, and justice had dictated. But that blow!
At ten o'clock the Inn people sent up to inquire for their lodger. They had not imagined anything amiss before, as they understood from Lawson that Hawke meant to stay late upon the fells.
"He said he was going to the Pillar," Gordon said, "and he went up Mosedale in that direction."
One dalesman, however, asserted that he passed Hawke not later than one in the afternoon by the church in the centre of the valley. He was then going towards Scafell.
Finally two search parties were organised--one to proceed to the Pillar Rock, the other to examine the cliffs of Scafell. Gordon elected to join the former, and they separately started off, with much narrating of past accidents to cheer them on their way.