"I am going. I want you to give me some money and let me go."
"You had better go at once, William. You had better try if the police can help you. We are pretty sure that he has gone to America, unless he has enlisted. In either case, it is very possible we may find him. Aunt Ascot would have succeeded, if she had not lost her temper. Don't you think I am right, my dear Marston?"
"I do, indeed, Ravenshoe," said Marston. "Don't you think now, Mr. Mackworth, that, if a real push is made, and with judgment, we may find Charles again?"
They had reached the terrace, and Father Mackworth was standing in front of the porch. He said he believed it was perfectly possible. "Nay," he said, "possible! I am as sure of seeing Charles Horton back here again as I am that I shall eat my dinner to-day."
"And I," said Cuthbert, "am equally sure that we shall see poor Ellen back some day. Poor girl! she shall have a warm welcome."
Father Mackworth said he hoped it might be so. And the lie did not choke him.
"We are going to send William away again to look after him, Father," said Cuthbert.
"He had much better stay at home and mind his education," said Mackworth.
William had his back towards them, and was looking out to sea, whistling. When the priest spoke he turned round sharply, and said—