“Oh, he’s safe somewhere,” said Tom. “Don’t worry your old head, Judy.”
“It’s fit that somebody should worry their heads,” retorted Judith sharply to Tom. “He never stopped out like this before—never! Pray Heaven there’s no harm come nigh him!”
“Well done, Judy!” was Tom’s answer. “Harm! What harm is likely to have come to him? Helstonleigh has not been shaken by an earthquake to-night, to swallow him up; and I don’t suppose any greedy kite has descended from the skies and carried him off in her talons. You’ll make a simpleton of that boy till he’s twenty!”
Judith—who, truth to say, did look very much after Charley, loved him and indulged him—wasted no more words on infidel Tom, but went straight up to Hamish’s room, and knocked at the door. Hamish was in it, at his writing-table as usual, and Judith heard a drawer opened and shut before he came to her.
“Mr. Hamish, it’s very queer about the child!” said Judith. “I don’t half like it.”
“What! Has he not come in?”
“No, he’s not. And, just to look how he has left his books and his lessons about, is enough to prove that something or other must have kept him. I declare my heart’s all in a quake! Master Tom has been out, and can find no traces of him—though it’s hard to tell whether he troubled himself to look much. Boys are as careless one of another as so many young animals.”
“I will come down directly, Judith.”
He shut the door, right in front of Judith’s inquisitive nose, which was peering in to ascertain what there might be to see. Judith’s curiosity, in reference to her young master’s night employment, had increased rather than abated. Every night, night after night, as Hamish came home with the account-books of the office under his arm, and carried them straight to his bedroom, Judith watched him go up with jealous eyes. Constance also watched him: watched him in a far more uneasy frame of mind than could be Judith’s. Bringing home those books now, in Mr. Channing’s absence, was only too plain a proof to Constance that his night work must be connected with them: and a perfectly sick feeling would rush over her. Surely there could be nothing wrong with the accounts?
Hamish closed the door, shutting out Judy. She heard him putting things away: heard a lock turned, and the keys removed. Then he came forth, and went down with Judith.