"How is Miss De Vaux now?" he asked of the servant who presented himself to take his horse; and it was some relief to hear in reply that she had not come down. He then ascended the stairs towards the drawing-room, but in the anteroom he was met by Isadore, who had already become aware of his return. All the light gay spirit was gone from her eyes, and her countenance now expressed nothing but intense anxiety. "You look grave, Colonel Manners," she exclaimed, as soon as she saw him. "You look sad; for Heaven's sake, tell me what have you discovered?"
"Nothing at all satisfactory," replied Manners, anxious to break the matter to her as gently as possible: "the whole business is certainly very strange; but I still hope and trust that--"
"Hope and trust!" exclaimed Isadore, clasping her hands. "Oh, Colonel Manners, you know more than you say. Poor, poor Marian! But tell me, I beseech you, tell me all. Indeed, this suspense is worse than the truth."
"I have very little to tell, my dear Miss Falkland," he replied; "but I must acknowledge that what I have to tell is not at all calculated to remove our apprehensions."
"But the gipsies, Colonel Manners!" exclaimed Isadore; "have you seen the gipsies?"
"No, I have not," he answered: "they had left the common before I arrived; but I found traces of the way they had taken, and have sent your cousin's own servant to pursue them."
"Sent my cousin's servant, without attempting to follow them yourself!" cried Isadore; but then, instantly lighting upon the right conclusion, she added, "But, no, no, no, Colonel Manners, I know you better! You would never have sent my cousin's servant upon such an inquiry, unless you had discovered something to render your stay here more necessary. But here comes mamma from poor Marian's room. Now, for Heaven's sake, tell us all, Colonel Manners."
"I hope Miss De Vaux is more composed," said Manners, turning to Mrs. Falkland as she entered.
"She is asleep from the effect of strong opiates, my dear sir," replied Mrs. Falkland gravely; "and, if I may judge from your countenance, it is happy for her that she is so. Now, Colonel Manners, tell me candidly what you have discovered--I require no preparation."
"The facts are simply these, then," replied Manners, "and I will not attempt to conceal from you that I am deeply uneasy on account of De Vaux. When I reached the gipsy encampment all was vacant, and nothing to be found but the place where it had been, together with fresh tracks of wheels and feet, marking the direction which the great body of the gipsies had taken. However, in another part of the common we discovered footmarks, which De Vaux's servant positively asserts to be those of his master; and, of course, my first care was to follow those as far as possible. They led us, I am sorry to say, in the direction where shots had been heard in the wood."