The quietness made him uneasy. He hastily opened the drawing-room door. The children were not there, and he quietly closed the door again, without rousing his sister, who was taking her afternoon nap.
Mr. Hollys now ran upstairs to the nursery. Lucy, who sat there reading, was startled at his unexpected appearance.
"Where is Miss Beryl, Lucy?" he demanded.
"Miss Beryl, sir?" said Lucy, looking scared. "In the garden, I believe, sir."
"No; she is not, for I have just come through the garden," said Mr. Hollys.
"Perhaps they are down on the beach, sir; they often like to sit there on a Sunday afternoon."
"That is impossible, for it is high tide. Do you mean to say that you do not know where they are?" demanded Mr. Hollys, with anger in his tone.
"I cannot say exactly where they are, sir," said Lucy, growing more frightened. "Miss Beryl likes to go away by herself, but I will find them."
Lucy left the room, followed by Mr. Hollys, in whose heart, anger was fast giving place to fear.
"You do not think they can have lingered in some corner of the beach till they were overtaken by the tide?" he asked in a low tone.