“Quite.”
“Thank you.” I withdrew.
Miss Gascoyne came forward out of the dusk into the light which streamed from the front door.
“He’s not there,” I said gravely.
She looked at me in dismay.
“Shall I tell them?” I asked.
She reflected for a moment.
“Yes. He may have fallen from his horse. We must look for him at once.” I turned towards the inn.
“I will come with you,” she said, and we passed through the low door.
The song had not been resumed. Evidently my errand had given food for conversation. The landlord paused in the middle of something he was saying and got down off his stool.