She shook her head, a gleam of spirit answering his. "Men like that never do."
They ran unhindered through the village and came to "The Ship." The inn-door gaped upon the street. There was not a soul in sight.
Olga brought the car to a stand. "We had better go straight in, Nick."
"Certainly," said Nick.
She peeped into the bar and found it empty. Together they entered the narrow passage. The unmistakable odour of beer and stale tobacco was all-prevalent. The air was heavy with it. They reached the foot of the steep winding stairs, and Olga paused irresolutely.
"There doesn't seem to be anyone downstairs. Will you wait while I run up?"
"No," said Nick. "I'm coming too."
They ascended therefore, and commenced to search the upper regions. But the same absolute quiet reigned above as below. Only the loud ticking of a cuckoo-clock at the head of the stairs aggravated the stillness.
Olga opened one or two doors along the passage and looked into empty rooms, and finally turned round to Nick with scared eyes.
"What can have happened? Where can she be gone?"