In the morning Robert tapped at Sir George’s door, and communicated quietly to him his recollecting to have seen a rather suspicious-looking woman near the Hermitage the previous day, and that he had just heard from a neighbour, that a woman of that description, with a child in her arms, had been seen passing to the eastward. Orders were immediately given for a pursuit on horseback;—Sir George giving directions to bring in every one whom they suspected; saying, that he would compensate those who had reason to complain of being used in this way. But, though many were brought to the Hermitage, and large rewards were offered, yet week after week passed over without bringing them the smallest intelligence of their lost little one.
Some months had elapsed since their child had disappeared, and the minds of the parents had become comparatively composed, when their attention was one evening attracted by the appearance of an unusual number of people in the grounds below the terrace, and whose motions it seemed difficult to understand.
“What can have brought so many people there?” asked Lady Beaumont; “and what are they doing?”
“Indeed, my love, I do not know,” said Sir George, “but there’s Robert, passing down the walk, and he will tell us;” and he called to Robert, who, however, seemed rather not to wish to hear; but Sir George called again, and so loudly, that Robert was obliged to stop. “Robert,” said Sir George, “what do these people seek in the low grounds there?”
“They are looking for —— of Widow Watt’s, your honour,” said Robert.
“Did you hear what it was, my dear?” said Sir George to his lady.
“No,” said Lady Beaumont; “but probably her pet lamb, or more likely her cow, has strayed.”
“Is it her cow that’s amissing, Robert?” called Sir George.
“No, your honour,” said Robert.
“Her lamb then, or some other beast?” asked Sir George.