Mr Maitland became seriously anxious when morning dawned and Gilbert did not return. Calling up Hugh and Arthur, he told them to mount their ponies, and ride in the direction Gilbert was most likely to have taken; and as soon as the farm servants arrived, he sent them out to search the forest far and near. He himself, after consulting Mary, mounted his horse, and rode off to Christchurch, to ascertain from Dick Hockley whether Gilbert had paid him a visit.
He found the young man lolling over a gate smoking.
“Your son, Mr Maitland? what, has not he got home?” he exclaimed in unfeigned surprise. “Yes, he paid me a visit yesterday. He is an old schoolfellow, you know, and I am always happy to see him. He and I are very good friends, and there is no reason we should not be that I know of.”
“That is not to the point,” said Mr Maitland, sternly. “You acknowledge that he paid you a visit. I wish to know when he left you.”
“Somewhere about five o’clock, as far as I recollect,” answered young Hockley; “and as he was as sober as a judge, I should think his forester ought to have carried him home in a couple of hours at the outside.”
Mr Maitland continued to cross-question Dick.
“I tell you he left me at five o’clock, and I know nothing more about him,” was the only answer he could obtain. Mr Maitland was at length convinced that young Hockley knew nothing more than he said about his son. He made inquiries in the neighbourhood, and ascertained from two or three people that they had seen a lad resembling Gilbert in appearance riding towards the forest. He gained, however, a piece of information; it was that a large cargo of goods had been run that evening from the well-known lugger, the Saucy Sally, and had been conveyed with a strong escort inland, under the command of her daring captain, Slippery Rogers, who was so called from the way in which he managed on all occasions to elude the Revenue cruisers afloat, and the Government officers and soldiers sent in pursuit of him on shore.
“It’s lucky you did not fall in with them, Mr Maitland,” observed his informant. “They have vowed vengeance against you; and it would fare ill with you if they were to get you into their power.”
“I am not afraid of them, or any ruffians like them!” said Mr Maitland. “I shall do what I consider right; and try to rid the country of such pests as these outlaws have long been to it. It is a disgrace to those who should know better, and who yet encourage them by buying their goods, and refusing to give evidence when they are caught. They not only deprive the king of his just dues, but injure legitimate trade, and encourage a general lawlessness among the whole population of the coast. However, I must hasten off, and try and find out what has become of my poor boy.”
On making further inquiries, Mr Maitland ascertained the route the smugglers had taken, and became convinced that Gilbert must have crossed their path, and probably fallen into their hands. He accordingly called on the two neighbouring magistrates, and deposed, to his belief, that violence had been offered to his son by the smugglers. He gave information also to the Revenue officers, who promised all the assistance they could afford.