It was not often that Mr. Consett was so upset over anything as he was over this, and he said so.
"There's only one thing we can do. God knows all about what has happened, and where the lad is. Suppose we kneel down and ask Him to direct our way in this difficulty," suggested Mrs. Consett; and having secured the latch of the door, the two knelt down at once and poured out their hearts before God.
Mrs. Consett never knew until then how much her husband had grown attached to the lad. How much easier it would be for him to lose the horses than the boy, she knew well enough now, after listening to his pleading with God on the lad's behalf.
As soon as they rose from their knees, he said, "I shall go back to The Bell at once. Get me a morsel of food that I can eat on the way."
"Go back to Boston to-night!" said Mrs. Consett.
And yet she was not surprised, for she knew how anxious her husband felt about Eric, and she set about getting him bread and meat cut into sandwiches, while a fresh horse was saddled for him to ride back to town.
It was nearly midnight before he returned, and when he came he was, if possible, looking more anxious than when he went away. "The boy is not a thief; I have got that comfort out of my journey," he said, as he jumped off his horse at the gate, where his wife was waiting for him.
"You have heard of the horses, then?" said Mrs. Consett.
"They were brought back to the stable just before I got there. They had been ridden hard for some hours, and were well-nigh exhausted; so that I feel sure more than one has had a hand in this, and I am not without hope of finding out in the morning. I could do no more to-night, so thought I had better ride home and tell you what I had discovered."
"But the lad—you have not been able to hear of him?" said Mrs. Consett anxiously.