“Thou art very late, Jack,” said Isoult, when he entered. “Where leftest Robin and Esther?”
John, who had turned his back as soon as he came in, was very busy hanging up his cloak, which Isoult thought took longer than his wont. At last John came forward to the fire, and then his wife saw the look on his face, and knew that some terrible thing had happened.
“Dear heart,” he said, huskily, “the Lord doth all things well.”
“A sure sign,” murmured Dr Thorpe, “that something hath gone ill, when a man shall say that at his first home-coming. What is it, Jack? Hath Robin brake his leg in the frost?”
Suddenly the dread truth rushed on Isoult.
“O Jack, Jack! is Mr Rose taken?” she cried in terror.
John pointed above, where were two who must not hear that awful news unprepared.
“Mr Rose, and all his hearers saving two.”
“The good Lord have mercy upon them!”
So Dr Thorpe; but Isoult was silent. Tears would not come yet. “Who were the two, Jack? Is it Robin or Esther they have taken?” pursued Dr Thorpe, with his brows knit. “Both,” said he, shortly.