“I did not expect to see you so early, sir,” he said. “I was coming to the Hall to report to you after I had been in to the superintendent.”
“What is it?”
“There has been a burglary at Mrs. Hornblower’s, sir. If you please, sir,” to Julius, “when is the Reverend Mr. Bowater expected home?”
“Not before Monday. Is anything of his taken?”
“Yes, sir. A glass case has been broken open, and a silver cup and oar, prizes for sports at college, I believe, have been abstracted. Also the money from the till below; and I am sorry to say, young Hornblower is absconded, and suspicion lies heavy on him. They do say the young man staked heavily on that mare of Captain Duncombe’s.”
“You had better go on to the superintendent now,” said Raymond. “You can come to me for a summons if you can find any traces.”
Poor Mrs. Hornblower, what horror for her! and poor Herbert too who would acutely feel this ingratitude. The blackness of it was beyond what Julius thought probable in the lad, and the discussion of it occupied the brothers till they reached the Reynolds colony, where they were received by the daughter-in-law, a much more civilized person than old Betty.
After Fanny’s dislocated arm had been set, the surgeon had sent her home in the Rectory carriage, saying there was so much fever in Wil’sbro’, that she would be likely to recover better at home; but she had been suffering and feverish all night, and Dan Reynolds was now gone in quest of ‘Drake,’ for whom she had been calling all night.
“Is he her husband?” asked Julius.
“Well, I don’t know, sir; leastways, Granny says he ought to be answerable for what’s required.”