“According to the word that came to the barrack at Clonmore, sir, the ladies arrived at Pool-a-donagh at four o’clock or thereabouts and didn’t find the gentlemen. It was thought that maybe they’d taken a wrong turn, though it’s hard to know how they could, seeing there isn’t a wrong turn to take, and that they might have come back to Clonmore. So the sergeant at Pool-a-donagh sent a wire to Sergeant Farrelly; but he didn’t know where they were, and no more did Jimmy O’Loughlin, for we asked him. We sent a few more wires to the barracks round about, but we got no tidings of them good nor bad. There was men out searching all night from Pool-a-donagh, and Constable Cole and the sergeant took a look round when they were on patrol. They do say the ladies was in a terrible state. There was a mounted man came into Clonmore between three and four this morning, and Sergeant Farrelly sent me over to you on a bicycle the way you’d be able to tell him what he’d better do.”
“I never heard of such a thing in my life,” said Mr. Goddard. “How can they be lost? The thing is impossible. Hang it all! they must be somewhere.”
“So you’d say, sir. But there isn’t a police station anywhere round but it’s been wired to, and not one has seen the gentlemen, dead or alive.”
“Don’t talk about their being dead,” said Mr. Goddard. “Good heavens, man! They’re Members of Parliament. If they’ve gone and committed suicide there’ll be a most frightful row, and everybody will say it’s the fault of the police. They must be found at once.”
Mr. Goddard was in his pyjamas and dressing-gown. He told Constable Moriarty to go into the yard and harness the horse while he shaved and dressed. He was inclined at first to be angry with the Members of Parliament. It is a stupid thing to get lost, and men have no right to be stupid. He did not want to spend the day searching bohireens and bog-holes. He wanted to play in the Ballymoy tennis tournament. He had engaged himself as partner to Mrs. Fielding, the Resident Magistrate’s wife, and it vexed him to have to disappoint the lady. By degrees the matter began to present itself to him in a brighter light. He was now obliged, absolutely forced, to leave Ballymoy, and by leaving early he would escape Miss Blow, escape her for a time at all events. He reflected that if she sought him out with her usual relentlessness he would, in any case, have been unable to play in the tournament. A man cannot with any decency appear on a tennis court while a beautiful and angry girl hurls reproaches at him from the side lines. Even if he succeeded in evading her, his nerve would be shattered by the consciousness that she might appear beside him at any moment. It seemed to him that the loss of the Members of Parliament was, after all, a blessing in disguise; that, in fact, his wish had been fulfilled beyond his hope—something had happened.
He sat down and scribbled a note of apology for his absence.
“Dear Fielding,” he wrote, “will you ask your wife to be so kind as to excuse me. I am exceedingly sorry to disappoint her, and I assure you I would not do it if I could possibly help it. Two Members of Parliament have disappeared during the night, and I have to go out and look for them. Perhaps the rector would play with Mrs. Fielding if you asked him. He’s no earthly good, but he’s on the handicapping committee, and would let himself in soft. In any case she would get a game of some sort. If you happen to come across that good-looking girl in the grey dress, you might tell her that I promised to play to-day with Mrs. Fielding, and that you expect me up at the club between twelve o’clock and four. That will keep her in Ballymoy for most of the day, anyhow. The Lord knows I don’t want her on my track. I shall have worry enough without that.”
He stuffed some biscuits into his pocket and went out into the yard. Constable Moriarty promised to deliver the note to Captain Fielding. Mr. Goddard got into his trap and drove off. He had to pass the hotel on his way, and was half afraid that Miss Blow might sally out and seize the horse’s head. She did not. It was not yet seven o’clock, and the blinds of all the upstairs rooms were drawn down. Miss Blow was, apparently, sleeping off the fatigue of the day before.
Mr. Goddard reached Clonmore at half-past eight. He found Sergeant Farrelly and Constable Cole at breakfast. They had been up all night, and were looking fagged, nervous, and harassed.
“There’s two more wires, sir, that’s come in since eight this morning. The one of them says that there’s no further news of the missing gentlemen in Pool-a-donagh, and the other says that the ladies started back to Clonmore at seven this morning, and is in hopes that you’ll be here to meet them when they arrive.