Yes. Percy believed Lord Oakleigh to be the man; but he would not say so yet. Time should show. First, however, they must gain some sign—some token of the whereabouts of the missing ones.
The servants had collected and a general interchange of opinions had taken place—as weak and aimless as such interchanges usually are—when the earl, after a time of painful thought, looked toward the smuggler’s son, and finally went up to him and laid his trembling hand on his shoulder.
“Percy Maitland, find my darling! I am old; I am shaken. I am not what once I was. Oh, find her! find her!” And he then turned to the servants and instructed them that to Maitland they were to look for direction, and he charged them to obey him in every particular. And so the search commenced, the earl himself going with them. He could not lead, nor could he remain behind.
Meantime where were Cordelia and Mary Seymour?
On that morning Cordelia arose with the sun. Percy had promised her, if the weather should be propitious, that he would have his boat at the Park landing, and take her, with Mary, to sail on the river.
She arose and looked forth; and never had she beheld the promise of a more beautiful day. She called her maid, and bade her go to the steward and have a basket filled with a proper lunch for three persons, after which she repaired to the apartment of the cook and asked for breakfast.
She wanted it at once—for herself and Mary—because she was going away. She was not particular about much cooking. She had eaten cold victuals before, and could do it again.
Everything went to please her, and by the time the sun was two hours high she was ready to set forth. She went in to kiss her grandpa, but he had not arisen; so she left word for him where she was going and with whom. The hands of the old clock in the hall were pointing to quarter-past seven as the two girls passed through, and ere long they were beyond the castle walls, tripping merrily along one of the graveled walks of the park, but the fresh, cool breeze of night had prevented the fall of dew, so they took the velvety sward when the fancy struck them. Percy had said on the previous evening that he would come to the castle for them; but she was confident he would come by way of the river bank and the landing, so it could make no difference, only in this, they would gain so much more time for the sail. If he had not reached the landing on their arrival at that point they would wait there for him.
They had crossed the open slope of the park and entered the woodland path when they heard voices away upon their left—the voices of men, as in ordinary conversation. They stopped for a time and listened. Mary suggested that they should turn back; but her mistress bade her to wait and listen. They stood thus for several minutes, hearing not another sound.
“Ho!” cried Cordelia, in her brave confidence, “what should harm us here? Why! this is a part of the park.”