“Yes, yes,” said Joe, thoughtfully. “You were jealous of the poor bairn.”
Eve started back, blushing crimson.
“But are you sure she has not been home, Joe Banks?” said Mrs Glaire, looking at him wistfully.
“Sure, ay, quite sure,” said Joe, sternly. “Here is the poor bairn’s shawl, and her basket too. I’ll leave ’em here, if you’ll let me.”
He laid them down in the hall, and stepped out to where there was quite a crowd of workmen now, waiting to help in the search; but as they caught sight of Richard Glaire, who now came forward, there was a savage groan.
“Ask him where he’s put thee bairn, Joe Banks; he knows,” cried a shrill voice, that of some woman; and another groan arose, making Richard draw back shivering.
“Look at the white-faced coward,” shouted a man. “Ask him, Joe Banks, ask him.”
“Nay, nay, lads,” said the foreman, sternly. “Ye’re aw wrong. I hev asked him, and he’s told me. He knows nowt about the poor bairn.”
A murmur arose at this, but Joe Banks turned round to where Richard stood.
“You come along o’ me, Master Richard, and no one ’ll lay a finger on thee whiles thou’rt by my side. He was at home aw night, lads, and it’s not him as would do her harm.”