“No, I am not, ma’am; we have searched all over the place for him. He never lay in his bed at all last night, the blessed lamb. Where he is Heaven only knows.”
“Who saw him last?” asked Nancy.
“I did,” said Hester, suddenly coming forward.
She spoke with a catch in her voice; her face was deadly pale. She was scarcely able to keep steady; and, staggering slightly, leant up against the wall.
“Tell me everything, and be quick,” said Mrs. Rowton hurriedly, beginning to dress as she spoke.
“I believe that I was the last person to see the young gentleman,” replied Hester. “The fact is this, ma’am: I got a fright just between ten and eleven last night soon after the ball opened. I saw, or fancied I saw, a lady flitting about in the garden. You remember, ma’am, there was a moon, but there were lots of black clouds, and the light was always being shut away by the clouds going across the moon; but just for the minute it shone out quite bright, and I distinctly saw a woman running and stooping as she ran close to the laurel hedge. I seemed to recognise the dress, and I thought at once that poor Mrs. Cameron had got loose. I wanted to tell my master, for I knew it would be awful if she ran into the ball-room. I made an excuse to get into the room, hoping that Mr. Rowton might be somewhere within sight; but I only caught sight of Master Murray, and it occurred to me that I would ask him to help me.”
“You did very wrong,” said Nancy; “you know, or you must know, that it is not safe for the boy to be with his mother. Well, go on, be quick.”
“I had no time to think, madam, and besides, I am not supposed to know anything.” Hester made an effort to give her head its old pert toss. “I managed to get Master Murray out of the ball-room,” she continued, “and I asked him to run across to the wing and tell Leah at once that Mrs. Cameron had escaped. He ran off quite willingly. I gave him the key of the postern door, which opens into the Queen Anne garden.”
“And the child has never come back? You must be making a mistake,” cried Nancy.
“It is true, ma’am; alas! it is true,” sobbed Mrs. Ferguson. “I was over with Leah this morning, and she says she never saw the boy, and never heard him knock, and Mrs. Cameron did not escape at all last night, but at the very time that Hester fancied she saw her, was sound asleep in bed. Oh, I dread to think what has happened—burglars breaking into the house, and the child gone, kidnapped most like. Oh, the plate and jewels are nothing—it is the child.”