"Do you know when he's coming back?" inquired Larkspur.
"Lawks, no, sir."
"Or where he's gone?"
"No, sir, I don't know that neither. My master's a good one to hold his tongue, he is. He never tells nobody nothing, in a manner of speaking."
"When did he go away?"
The girl named the morning on which had been discovered the disappearance of Sir Oswald's daughter.
"He went away pretty early, I suppose?" said Mr. Larkspur, with assumed indifference.
"I should rather think he did," answered the girl. "I was up at six that morning, but my master had gone clean off when I came down stairs. There weren't a sign of him."
"He must have gone very early."
"That he must; and the strangest part of it is that he was up very late the night before," added the girl, who was one of those people who ask nothing better than the privilege of telling all they know about anything or anybody.