“Do not be so ready to condemn, Perowne,” said the Resident, quickly. “I feel sure that Hilton would be guilty of no rash, foolish escapade like this. It is absurd! Good heavens, man! do you think that Helen would degrade herself by eloping? I will not believe it!”
“I wish I could feel you were right,” groaned the unhappy father.
“Why Chumbley is away too. It is like saying that he is implicated.”
“He is Hilton’s chosen companion,” said Mr Perowne, sadly.
“Tut, man; we shall have to look farther afield than that.”
“Then why are they not here to speak for themselves?” cried Mr Perowne, in a querulous, excited way. “Hilton has been constantly hanging about my place a great deal more than Helen liked, and she showed it to-night by completely turning her back upon him.”
“But surely you do not think that Hilton—” began the Resident.
“I do not think anything,” said Mr Perowne, angrily. “But here is the fact before us: my daughter is missing, and Captain Hilton has not returned to his quarters.”
“Neither has Chumbley,” said the Resident, uneasily.
“Neither has Chumbley,” assented Mr Perowne.