There was no lack of theories.

Every other member of the group had one of his own.
The baron himself made no secret of his belief that the prince was the victim of a political plot, till the Honourable John Ruffin, out of mere idle curiosity, stopped the procession to enquire its object and on learning it proclaimed his firm conviction that the prince was neither lost, stolen, nor strayed.
By this time the news had spread to the sands; and a nurse came hurrying up with the information that the prince had gone into the marsh, mushrooming with Pollyooly.
"Ach Gott! Then that little she-devil-child haf 'im drowned in a dyke!" said the baron cheerfully.
The suggestion increased greatly the interest of his followers; and they accompanied him into the marsh eagerly.

On that expanse figures are seen at a great distance; but the searchers had gone a long way into it before they caught sight of the children.

At some distance the figures of Pollyooly and the Lump, and even the basket of mushrooms were plainly recognised.

But what was that strange object which moved beside them?
The baron and his band quickened their steps, Pollyooly still walked at the leisurely gait which suited the Lump.
It was not till he was within ten yards of them that the procession and the baron recognised his young charge.