"Our search is ended," said Talbot politely to Miss Grayson, "and I am glad to say that we have found nothing."
The lady's gaze was not deflected a particle, nor did she reply.
"I bid you good-day, Miss Grayson," continued Talbot, "and hope that you will not be annoyed again in this manner."
Still no reply nor any change in the confidences passing between the lady and the red coals.
Talbot gathered up his men with a look and hurried outside the house, followed in equal haste by Prescott.
"How warm it is out here!" exclaimed Talbot, as he stood in the snow.
"Warm?" said Prescott in surprise, looking around at the chill world.
"Yes, in comparison with the temperature in there," said Talbot, pointing to Miss Grayson's house.
Prescott laughed, and he felt a selfish joy that the task had been Talbot's and not his. But he was filled, too, with wonder. What had become of Miss Catherwood?
They had just turned into the main street, when they met Mr. Sefton, who seemed expectant.