"I can't tell you, sir. Excuse me, I must attend to my duty."
Releasing himself from Gerald's grasp, he plunged among his men. Gerald, in his eager anxiety for information of Emilia, asked a dozen persons around him, and obtained a dozen different answers. One said one thing, one said another, and each speaker contradicted the one who had previously spoken. At length he saw on the outskirts of the crowd his housekeeper talking to a lady, and running toward them, he saw that the lady was Mrs. Seaton.
"I am glad you are saved, Mr. Paget," said Mrs. Seaton, with freezing politeness. "I was just asking your housekeeper who is the young lady who was carried out of your house barely half dressed, and she insists that no such person was there. But as a hundred people saw her, there is, of course, no disputing a fact so clear. Perhaps you can tell us who she is?"
A number of neighbors gathered around, some who knew both Gerald and Emilia.
"And I said, sir," said the housekeeper, "that their eyes deceived them----"
"Oh, that is very likely," interposed Mrs. Seaton, in her most malicious tone.
"Because," continued the housekeeper, "when we went to bed last night there was nobody but me and that little wretch of a Susan in the house. It was her who set the place on fire, sir, with her novel reading. I hope she'll be put in prison for it."
"But enlighten us, Mr. Paget," said Mrs. Seaton. "Who was the young lady?"
"You are a malicious scandal-monger," cried Gerald, and tore himself away, feeling that he had made for himself and Emilia a more bitter enemy in calling Mrs. Seaton by that name.
He continued his inquiries for Emilia, but could obtain no satisfaction. So many different stories were related to him that he could not tell which was the true one.