She could not be still in her agony. She paced up and down stretching up her arms for the ease to her breast which was not to be had. "Whatever you like!" she said.
"You have been seeing him? You know where he is?"
"I don't know now."
"My God!"
Pen hurried from the room, leaving him in a state of collapse.
She still went about her daily tasks like a piece of mechanism. She had to keep in some sort of motion. She experienced strange lapses, discovered herself offering whole corn in her hand to the newly-hatched chicks; came to to find herself in places without any notion of what she had come for. Her father kept out of her way.
It took a long time to organize the searchers. Delehanty was not taking any chance of failure. He was in no particular hurry since he had already sent a large party by boat to the head of the creek to cut off any escape up the Neck. Finally about ten o'clock the rest were ready. They set off in three parties, the first making its way along the river shore to comb the woods on the Absolom's Island side; the second setting off towards the lighthouse to surround the pond in the woods; the third and largest party heading straight back by the Neck road. Their instructions were to deploy along the edge of the woods, and wait until they got in touch with the parties on either flank. Two lads who brought motor-cycles over from the Island were delegated to act as messengers between Delehanty and the searchers.
When they had gone an ominous Sabbath quiet descended on Broome's Point, which was harder to bear than the confusion. Delehanty went off to the cottage. There was no one to be seen but a few of the yellow-faced squatters' women from up the Neck who peered from under their sun-bonnets with shy, half-human eyes, and a group of old men standing by the porch discussing bygone murders with zest.
Later, Pen came upon her father in the back kitchen, or dairy, evidently seeking to waylay her. He seemed not greatly affected by the scene in the dining-room, only for a hang-dog air, and a difficulty in meeting her glance. As a matter of fact Pen's tragic eyes intimidated him. For himself, he had been absorbed in trifles for so long that he could not feel anything very deeply.
He said: "I suppose you've forgotten that we were to lunch on the yacht to-day."