“Have you seen my son, Mrs Drinkwater?” asked Mr Willows. “Did he come here to-day to see Mr Manners?”
“Yes, sir; this morning,” said the woman, making way for the two visitors to enter the neatly furnished sitting-room, where supper was on the way.
“Oh! this morning? But I am disturbing you at supper. Evening, James,” he said, as he and his companion entered the room, to see Drinkwater, who was just finishing his meal.
“Good-evening, sir. Disturbing me? No matter, master,” said the man, rising and standing facing the newcomers, with one hand on the table. “So Master Will was here this morning, wife?”
“Yes, yes,” cried the woman; “as I say. He and Mr Josh came down together. They were looking for Mr Manners then, and seemed disappointed-like that he was out.”
“Of course,” said the mill-owner; “of course. They would be. They wanted the artist to come to the mill. Well, well! And afterwards what happened?”
“Well, sir, Mr Manners had gone, and that’s all I know, sir. The two young gentlemen went away together.”
“They went to look for him, naturally. But where had he gone?”
“He was going to the Tor, sir. He went away early, with his canvas and things, to paint a picture.”
“You hear, Carlile? Something must have happened, or they would have been back by now. We must go. Look here, Drinkwater, you will come with us?”