After this intelligence, shaving became an impossibility, and I hurried down as soon as I could into the breakfast-room. My tutor was standing at the window very thoughtful, and though he greeted me with his usual hilarity, it struck me that it was a little forced.
"Why, you are early this morning, Peter; and how profusely you have illustrated yourself with cuts; it is sad to see one so young with such a shaky hand. One would think you were one of the five-bottle-men, like Sir—like Lord Stowell."
He had been about to say "Sir Massingberd," I knew, and would on ordinary occasions not have hesitated to do so.
"De perditis nil nisi bonum?" quoth I inquiringly.
"Oh, so you have heard of this nine hours' wonder, have you?" returned my tutor. "Because our neighbour has chosen to leave home for a little, on some private business best known to himself, everybody will have it that he is Lost."
"But it does seem very extraordinary too," said I, "does it not? He has never done so before, has he?"
"Not in all the years he has lived in Fairburn," returned my tutor musingly.
"And he made no preparations, I suppose, for departure, did he? Took no clothes with him?"
"Nothing, nothing," interrupted Mr. Long, pacing the room to and fro, with his hand to his forehead. "But he had money, you know; he was eager to get that money yesterday."
"Then he would probably have hired a vehicle," urged I; "Sir Massingberd is not the man to use his own legs, beyond the limit, that is, of his own lands. You have heard him say that he would never be seen on the road without four horses."