We thought, sir--" "Thinking again, you scoundrel!--speak out, however." "Why, the truth is, your honor, that neither Miss Gourlay nor she has been here since Tuesday night last." The baronet had been walking to and fro, as was his wont, but this information paralyzed him, as if by a physical blow on the brain.

He now went, or rather tottered over, to his arm-chair, into which he dropped rather than sat, and stared at Gibson the footman as if he had forgotten the intelligence just conveyed to him.

In fact, his confusion was such--so stunning was the blow--that it is possible he did forget it.
"What is that, Gibson ?" said he; "tell me; repeat what you said." "Why, your honor," replied Gibson, "since last Tuesday night neither Miss Gourlay nor her maid has been in this house." "Was there no letter left, nor any verbal information that might satisfy us as to where they have gone ?" "Not any, sir, that I am aware of." "Was her room examined ?" "I cannot say, sir.

You know, sir, I never enter it unless when I am rung for by Miss Gourlay; and that is very rarely." "Do you think, Gibson, that there is any one in the house that knows more of this matter than you do ?" Gibson shook his head, and replied, "As to that, Sir Thomas, I cannot say." The baronet was not now in a rage.

The thing was impossible; not within the energies of nature.