He formed parties and assigned roads and brought all into order. The first necessity was to visit every house within a mile of the inn on the Windermere side; and this was taken in hand at once. In ten minutes the road twinkled with lights, and the frosty ground rang under the tread of ironshod boots. It was ascertained that no boat had crossed the lake that afternoon; and this so far narrowed the area to be searched, that the men were in a high state of excitement, and those who carried firearms looked closely to their priming.
“’Tis a pity it’s neet!” said Nadin. “But we mun ha’ them, we mun ha’ them, afoor long!”
Meanwhile, Mr. Sutton had braced himself to the task which he had undertaken. Challenged by Bishop, he had been anxious to go at once to Clyne’s room and tell him; that the Captain might go with the searchers if he pleased. But he had not mounted three steps before Mrs. Gilson was at his heels, bidding him, in her most peremptory manner, to “let his honour be for another hour. What can he do?” she urged. “He’s but one more, and now the lads are roused, they’ll do all he can do! Let him be, let him be, man,” she continued. “Or if you must, watch him till he wakes, and then tell him.”
“It will be worse then,” the chaplain said.
“But he’ll be better!” she retorted. “Do you be bidden by me. The man wasn’t fit to carry his meat to his mouth when he went upstairs. But let him be until he has had his sleep out and he’ll be another man.”
And Mr. Sutton let himself be bidden. But he was right. Every minute which passed made the task before him more difficult. When at last Captain Clyne awoke, a few minutes after eight o’clock, and startled, brought his scattered senses to a focus, he saw sitting opposite him a man who hid his face in his hands, and shivered.
Clyne rose.
“Man, man!” he said. “What is it? Have you bad news?”
But the chaplain could not speak. He could only shake his head.
“They have not—not found——”