Jim turned to the maid, who had watched his unconscious splintering of the glass with distended eyes.
"When did they go?" he asked.
Mary answered hurriedly, disconcerted by the obvious distress of her master.
"It was some hours ago, sir. They went sort of unexpected-like, as it seemed to me, sir."
Jim reasoned swiftly. Somehow, he sensed a frightful fraud underlying this mystery. But he knew the need of haste. By some malevolent chance, his wife had been led into this error of understanding—out of which she had written:
"I do not want to be in your path, so am going away."
Jim turned to the girl, who was still hovering doubtfully in the doorway.
"There's been a mistake somewhere, I guess." His voice was quiet, but in it throbbed a heart-beat of deepest feeling. "Tell the foreman, I want the boys to ride with me to-night."