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"I say that my brother-in-law, Rosebury, has not been home."
"The chaplain!" cried Mr Harley, and he stopped short upon the path.
"Hasn't been home," continued the doctor. "They've all gone in somewhere. Who else is away?"
"Hilton and Chumbley."
"Oh, it's all right. They're somewhere; but it's very foolish of them to frighten some people and rouse others up like this," said the doctor.
"I hope we shall find a pleasant solution of what is at present a mystery," said the Resident. "Mrs Bolter, it is very kind of you to come," he added, warmly.
"Yes; I thank you too," said Perowne, in a dreamy, absent way. "It is very strange; but where is Miss Stuart?"
"Stuart said she was asleep," said the Resident.
"Oh, to be sure. Yes; I remember," said Mr Perowne.
"We took her safely home," said Mrs Bolter, quickly.
They had not far to go to the gates of the merchant's grounds, but it seemed to all to be a long and dreary walk past the various dark houses of the European and native merchants, not one of which gave any token of the life within.
The gates were open, and they walked over the gritting gravel to where the door stood, like the windows of the bungalow, still open, and a lamp or two were yet burning in the grounds, one of which paper lanterns, as they approached, caught fire, and blazed up for a moment and then hung, a few shreds of tinder, from a verdant arch.
It was a mere trifle, but it seemed like a presage of some trouble to the house, seen as it was by those who approached, three of the party being in that unreal, uncomfortable state suffered by all who are roused from their sleep to hear that there is "something wrong."
The servants looked soared as they entered, and announced that they had been looking, as they expressed it, "everywhere" without success.
Lanterns were lit and a thorough exploration of the grounds followed, the only result being that a glove was found--plainly enough one that had been dropped by someone walking near the river.
That was all, and the night pa.s.sed with the searchers awaking everyone they knew in turn, but to obtain not the slightest information; and daybreak found the father looking older and greyer by ten years as he stood in his office facing the Resident, the doctor, and Mrs Bolter, and asking what they should do next.
"We must have a thorough daylight search," said Mr Harley. "Then the boatmen must all be examined. It hardly appears probable, but Hilton and Chumbley may have proposed a water trip. It seems to us now, cool and thoughtful, a mad proposal, but still it is possible."
"Yes, and Helen would not go without my brother to take care of her,"
said Mrs Bolter, triumphantly, for she had been longing for some explanation of her brother's absence, and this was the first that offered.
"Oh, no, Mary," said the doctor, crus.h.i.+ng her hopes as he shook his head.
"No, Mrs Bolter," said the Resident, slowly; and he seemed to be speaking and thinking deeply the while. "I am sure Miss Perowne could not be guilty of so imprudent an act."
"No," said her father, speaking now more boldly and without reserve.
"You are right, Harley. Helen loves admiration, but she would not have compromised herself in such a way, neither would Mr Rosebury have given such an act his countenance."
The Resident raised his head as if to speak, and then remained silent.
"What are you thinking, Harley," said the doctor.
"Yes, pray speak out," cried Mrs Bolter. "I am sure we are all only too anxious to find some comfort."
"I was thinking of what could have happened to them, for depend upon it they are all together."
"Yes," said Mr Perowne; "but you were thinking more than that."
"I must think," said the Resident. "I cannot say anything definite now."
"Then I know what it is," cried Mrs Bolter.
"Will you kindly speak out, madam?" said the old merchant, harshly.
"I should be sorry to accuse falsely," said Mrs Bolter, excitedly; "but I was warned of this, and I can't help thinking that someone else is at the bottom of this night's work."
"And who's that?" said the doctor, quickly.
Mrs Bolter was silent.
"Rajah Murad, you mean," said the doctor, quickly; "and he has been waiting his time."
"And now strikes at us like a serpent in the dark!" cried Mr Perowne, angrily. "It is the Malay character all over. Heaven help me! My poor girl!"
VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER FOUR.
MRS BARLOW.
Mr Perowne's house was literally besieged the next morning, for the news of the disappearance ran through the little community like wildfire. British and native communities were equally excited; and after s.n.a.t.c.hing an hour's rest at the imperative command of his wife, the doctor was hastily swallowing some breakfast previous to going back to Mr Perowne's, but could hardly get on for interruptions.
"I am not alarmed, Henry," said the little lady, in a quiet, decided way; "and I insist upon your being properly fortified before unduly exerting yourself. I could not bear for you to be ill."
The words were said very quietly, but in such a tone that Dr Bolter set down his cup, and rising, left his place, and tenderly embraced the earnest little woman he had made his wife.
"I will take all the care I can, my dear Mary," he said.
"I know you will, Henry," said the little lady, whose lip quivered slightly as she spoke; "but now go and finish your breakfast, and then start. Don't be uneasy about me, dear, but go and do what you think best under the circ.u.mstances."
"I will, my love--I will," said Dr Bolter, with his mouth full of toast.
"It all sounds very alarming, dear, but I cannot help thinking that it will be explained in a very simple manner."
"I hope so."
"You see there are four of them; and as Arthur is one, I think we may feel a.s.sured."
"Well, my dear these are business times," said the doctor, "and we must speak in business ways. Arthur is the best old fellow in the world; but I am sorry to say that he is a terrible old woman."
"Henry!" said the lady, reproachfully.
"Well, my dear, he is. Now, would you have much confidence in him if it were a case of emergency?"