The keeper shook his head. “If he had passed that way this afternoon it isn’t one but six pairs of eyes would ha’ seen him.”
There was a murmur of assent. The searchers were keenly enjoying the drama, taking in every change that appeared on the girl’s face. They were men into whose lives not much of drama entered.
“But I cannot think that what you say is likely!” Mary protested. She had held her own stoutly through the day, but now with the eyes of all these men upon her she grew bewildered. The rows of faces, the bashful hands twisting caps, the blurred white of smocked frocks—grew and multiplied and became misty. She had to grasp the table to steady herself.
Mrs. Toft saw how it was, and came to the rescue. “What’s Toft say about it?” she asked.
“Ay, to be sure, missus,” Petch agreed. “I dunno as he’s said anything yet.”
“I don’t think the Master could have passed and not been seen,” Toft replied. His tone was low, and in the middle of his speech he shivered. “But I’m not saying that the flask wasn’t there this morning. It’s a small thing.”
“It couldn’t have been overlooked, Mr. Toft,” the keeper replied firmly. “I speak as I know!”
Again Mrs. Toft intervened. “I’m sure nobody would ha’ laid a hand on the Master!” she said. “Nobody in these parts and nobody foreign, as I can fancy. I’ve no doubt at all the poor gentleman awoke with some maggot in his brain and wandered off, not knowing. The question is, what can we do? The young lady’s had a sad day, and it’s time she was left to herself.”
“There’s nothing we can do now,” Petch said flatly. “It stands to reason if we’ve found nothing in the daylight we’ll find nothing in the dark. We’ll be back at eight in the morning. Whether we’d ought to let his lordship know——”
“Sho!” said Mrs. Toft with scorn. “What’s he in it, I’d like to know? But there, you’ve said what you come to say and it’s time we left the young lady to herself.”