"Two hours and a half ago!"
"Mrs. Ricketts told me that he seemed spent and out of breath when he arrived. She begged him not to stay long, as the weather was getting worse; and she offered to send her boy with him, but the General would not hear of it. She saw him struggling against the wind before he disappeared. It is not unlikely that he may have turned aside and found shelter somewhere. But the snow is over now. I have come direct along the road. Walters arrived before I left the cottage."
"He had not met my husband?"
"No. General Villiers may have tried the short cut, and—found it difficult," said Mr. Trevelyan cautiously. "It would not be wise; still, if he felt over-fatigued, he might be tempted. Walters and young Ricketts have gone that way, and I have promised to meet them with Adams."
"In case help is needed."
"If he has lost the path—yes. He might be too exhausted to get on. I met Adams outside, and I told him to be ready at once with lanterns—feeling sure you would excuse the liberty. Walters does not profess to know the geography of the marshes, and young Ricketts unfortunately is lame just now from an accident, so they may not get very far. Jean will stay here and take care of you."
"Thanks—I am coming too."
Evelyn stood facing him, a bright flush on either cheek.
"You! Pardon me: it would be madness! You do not know the marshes on a night like this. Stay indoors, Mrs. Villiers, and be ready for your husband when he arrives. You could do no good whatever—only hinder us."
Mr. Trevelyan's manner was uncompromising to sternness. He thought nothing of a buffet with the gale for his hardy Jean—brought up from infancy to fight through any manner of discomfort in the path of duty; but such exposure for this fair porcelain-like creature, always tenderly sheltered, was another matter.