“Where is this man to be found? I have been looking for him these several hours past, as I should think no man was ever looked for yet.”
“I have said that I think he is not to be found. I think he is gone.”
“Gone!” shouted Tod. “Gone!”
“I think he must be. I—I saw him just before dinner-time, here at this very stile; I gave him something that I had to give, and I think he left at once, to make the best of his way from the place.”
“And Hugh?” asked Tod savagely.
“I did not know then that Hugh was missing. Oh, Joseph, I can’t tell what to think. When I said to him one day that he ought not to talk nonsense to the children about corals and animals—in fact, should not speak to them at all—he answered that if I did not get him the money he wanted he’d take the boy off with him. I knew it was a jest; but I could not help thinking of it when the days went on and on, and I had no money to give him.”
“Of course he has taken the boy,” said Tod, stamping his foot. And the words sent Mrs. Todhetley into a tremor.
“Joseph! Do you think so?”
“Heaven help you, Mrs. Todhetley, for a—a simple woman! We may never see Hugh again.”
He caught up the word he had been going to say—fool. Mrs. Todhetley clasped her hands together piteously, and the shawl slipped from her shoulders.