MISSING.
There was commotion next morning at Trennach, especially about the
region of the Bare Plain and the cottages in Bleak Row. Josiah Bell
had disappeared. Mrs. Bell had sat up half the night waiting for him;
then, concluding he had taken too much liquor to be able to find his
way home, and had either stayed at the Golden Shaft or found refuge
with Andrew Float, she went to bed. Upon making inquiries this
morning, this proved not to be the case. Nothing seemed to be known of
Josiah Bell. His comrades professed ignorance as to his movements: the
Golden Shaft had not taken him in; neither had Andrew Float.
Mrs. Bell rose early. People in a state of exasperation, lose sight of
physical weakness: and this exactly expresses Dame Bell's state of
mind. It was of course necessary that she should be up, in order to
give Bell a proper lecture when he should make his appearance. Whilst
dressing, she saw Nancy Tomson's husband outside, apparently starting
for Trennach. Throwing a warm shawl over her shoulders, she opened the
window.
"Tomson!" she called out. "Tomson!"
The man heard and looked up, his face leaden and his eyes red and
inflamed. Last night's potations were not yet slept off.
"What was the reason my husband did not come home?"
Tomson took a few moments to digest the question. Apparently his
recollection on the point did not quickly serve him.
"I doan't know," said he. "Didn't Bell come hoam?"
"No, he didn't."
"Baan't he come hoam?"
"No, he has not come. And I think it was a very unfriendly thing of
the rest of you not to bring him. You had to come yourselves. Did you
leave him at the Golden Shaft?"
"Bell warn't at tha Golden Shaaft," said Tomson.
"Now don't you tell me any of your untruths, Ben Tomson," returned the
dame. "Not at the Golden Shaft! Where else was he?"
"I'll take my davy Bell were not weth us at tha Golden Shaaft last
evening!" said the man. "He cleared out at dusk."
"But he went back to it later."
"He never did--not as I saw," persisted Tomson; who was always
obstinate in maintaining his own opinion.
"Was Andrew Float there?" asked Mrs. Bell.
"Andrew Float? Yes, Float was there."
"Then I know Bell was there too. And don't you talk any more nonsense
about it, Ben Tomson. Bell was too bad to get home by himself, and
none of you chose to help him home; perhaps you were too bad
yourselves to do it. And there he has stayed till now; either at the
Golden Shaft, or with Float the miner: and you'd very much oblige me,
Tomson, if you'd hunt him up."
She shut the casement, watched Tomson start on his way to Trennach,
and, presently, went down to breakfast. Rosaline was getting it ready
as usual, looking more dead than alive.
"We'll wait a bit, Rose, to see whether your father comes. Don't put
the tea in yet."
Rose was kneeling before the fire at the moment. She turned at the
words, a wild look in her eyes, and seemed about to say something; but
checked herself.
Half-an-hour passed: Dame Bell growing more angry each minute, and
rehearsing a sharper reception for Bell in her mind. At last they sat
down to breakfast. Rose could not eat; she seemed ill: but her mother,
taken up with the ill-doings of the truant, did not observe her as
much as she would otherwise have done. Breakfast was at an end,
although Mrs. Bell had lingered over it, when Tomson returned; and
with him appeared the tall ungainly form of Float the miner.
"Well?" cried the dame, rising briskly from her chair in expectation,
as Tomson raised the latch of the door.
"Well, 'tis as I said," said Tomson. "Bell didn't come back to the
Golden Shaaft last night after he cleared out just afore dark. He
ain't nowheres about as we can see."
Mrs. Bell looked from one to the other: at Tomson's rather sullen
countenance, at Float's good-natured one. She might have thought the
men were deceiving her, but she could see no motive for their doing
so. Unless, indeed, Bell was lying somewhere in Trennach, so ill after
his bout that they did not like to tell her.
"Where is he, then, I should like to know?" she retorted, in reply to
Tomson.
"Caan't tell," said Tomson. "None o' they men heve seen him."
"Now this won't do," cried Dame Bell. "You must know where he is. Do
you suppose he's lost? Don't stand simpering there on one leg, Andrew
Float, but just tell me where he is hiding."
"I'd tell ye if I knew, ma'am," said Andrew, in his meek way. "I'd
like to know where he is myself."
"But he was at the Golden Shaft last night: he must have been there,"
insisted the dame, unable to divest herself of this opinion. "What
became of him when the place shut up? What state was he in?"
"No, ma'am, he was not there," said Andrew, mildly, for he never liked
contradicting.
"Stuff!" said Mrs. Bell. "There was nowhere else for him to go to.
What did you do with him, Andrew Float?"
"I heve done naught with him," rejoined Andrew. "He kep' I and they
t'other soes awaiting all the evening for him at the Golden Shaft;
but he didn't come back to't."
"I know he was at the Golden Shaft pretty nigh all yesterday,"
retorted Mrs. Bell, angrily.
"He were," acknowledged Andrew. "He come back after his dinner, and
stayed there along o' the rest of us: but he was pewerly silent and
glum; we couldna get a word from him. Just as they were a-lighting up,
Bell he gets off the settle, and puts on his hat; and when we asked
where he was going, he said to do his work. Upon that, one o' they
sees--old Perkins, I think it were--wanted to know what work; but Bell
wouldn't answer him. He'd be back by-and-by, he said; and went out."
"And he did not go back again?" reiterated Dame Bell.
"No, ma'am, he didn't. Though we aal stayed a bit later than usual on
the strength of expecting him."
"It's very strange," said she. "He came home here about seven o'clock,
or between that and half-past--I can't be sure as to the exact time. I
thought he had come for good; he was three-parts tipsy then, and I
advised him to sit down and make himself comfortable. Not a bit would
he heed. After standing a minute or so, twirling his stick about, and
asking where Rosaline was, and this and the other, he suddenly pushes
his hat down over his eyes, and out he goes in a passion--as I could
tell by his banging the door. Of course he was going back to the
Golden Shaft. There can't be a doubt of it."
"He never came to the Golden Shaft, ma'am," said Float.
"I say," cried Tomson at this juncture, "what's amiss with Rosaline?"
During the above conversation, Rosaline had stood at the dresser,
wiping the plates one by one, and keeping her back to the company, so
that they did not see her face. But it chanced that Tomson went to the
fire to light his pipe, just as Rosaline's work came to an end. As she
crossed the kitchen to the staircase, Tomson met her and had full view
of her. The man stared after her in surprise: even when she had
disappeared up the stairs and shut the door behind her, he still stood
staring; for he had never seen in all his life a face to equal it for
terror. It was then that he put his question to Mrs. Bell.
"Didn't your wife tell you what it was that frightened her, Ben
Tomson?" was the dame's query.
"My wife have said ne'er a word to me since yesterday dinnertime,
save to call me a vool," confessed Tomson. "Her temper be up. Rosaline
do look bad, though!"
"She heard the Seven Whistlers last night," explained Mrs. Bell. "It
did fright her a'most to death.
"What!--they Whistlers here again laast night?" cried Tomson, his eyes
opening with consternation.
Dame Bell nodded. "Your wife and me were sitting here, Ben Tomson,
waiting for Rosaline to come in, and wondering why Granny Sandon kept
her so late. I opened the door to see if I could see her coming across
the Plain--or Bell, either, for the matter o' that--and there she was,
leaning again' the wall outside with terror. We got her indoors, me
and Nancy Tomson, and for some time could make nothing of her; she was
too frighted to speak. At last she told us she had heard the Seven
Whistlers as she was coming over the Plain."
But now this statement of Mrs. Bell's unconsciously deviated from the
strict line of truth. Rosaline had not "told" them that she heard the
Seven Whistlers on the Plain. When her mother suddenly accused her of
having heard the Whistlers, and was backed in the suggestion by Nancy
Tomson, poor Rosaline nodded an affirmative, but she gave it in sheer
despair. She could not avow what had really frightened her; and the
Seven Whistlers--which she had certainly _not_ heard--served
excellently for an excuse. The two women of course adopted the
explanation religiously, and they had no objection to talk about it.
"They Whistlers again!" resumed Tomson, in dismay. "Ross, he's raging
just like a bear this morning, threatening us weth law and what not;
but he _caan't_ expect us to go down and risk our lives while they
boding Whistlers be glinting about."
"There, never mind they Whistlers," broke in Mrs. Bell, who sometimes
fell into the native dialect. "Where's Bell got to? that's what I want
to know."
Of course Tomson could not say. Neither could Float. The latter made
the most sensible suggestion the circumstances admitted of--namely,
that they should go and search for him. Mrs. Bell urged them to do so
at once and to make haste about it. Bell would be found in Trennach
fast enough, she said. As he had not taken refuge in Float's the
miner's house, he had taken it in somebody else's, and was staying
there till he grew sober.
On this day, Wednesday, Trennach was again taking holiday, and laying
the blame on the Seven Whistlers. But this state of things could not
last. The men knew that; and they now promised the overseer, Ross,
whose rage had reached a culminating point, that the morrow should see
them at work. One wise old miner avowed an opinion that three days
would be enough to "break the spell o' they Whistlers and avert evil."
So the village street was filled with idlers, who really, apart from
smoking and drinking, had nothing to do with themselves. It was a
little early yet for the Golden Shaft: and when Andrew Float and
Tomson arrived amongst them with the account that Josiah Bell had not
been seen since the previous evening or been home all night, and that
his wife (or as Tomson phrased it in the local vernacular, his woman)
couldn't think where he had got to and had put a rod in pickle for
him: the men listened. With one accord, they agreed to go and look for
Bell: and they set about it heartily, for it gave them something to
do.
But Josiah Bell could not be found. The miners' dwellings were
searched, perhaps without a single exception, but he had not taken
refuge in any one of them. Since quitting the Golden Shaft the
previous evening at dusk, as testified to by the men who were there,
only two persons, apart from his wife, could remember to have seen
him: Blase Pellet, and the Rector of Trennach, the Reverend Thomas
Pine. Mr. Pellet, standing at his shop-door for recreation at the
twilight hour, had seen Bell pass down the street on his way from the
inn, and noticed that he was tolerably far gone in liquor. The
clergyman had seen and spoken to Bell a very few minutes later.
Chancing to meet the men on their search this morning, Mr. Pine learnt
that Josiah Bell was missing. The clergyman always made himself at
home with the men, whether they belonged to his flock or were
Wesleyans. He never attempted to interfere in the slightest degree
with their form of worship, but he constantly strove by friendly
persuasion to lead them away from evil. The Wesleyan minister was
obliged to him for it: he himself was lame, and could not be so active
as he would have liked. Mr. Pine did much good, no doubt: but this
last affair of the Whistlers, and the consequent idleness, had been
too strong for him. Latterly Mr. Pine had also been in very
indifferent health; the result of many years' hard work, and no
holiday. Dr. Raynor had now told him that an entire rest of some
months had become essential to him; without it he would inevitably
break down. He was a tall, thin, middle-aged man with a worn face.
Particularly worn, it looked, as he stood talking to the group of
miners this morning.
"I saw Bell last evening myself," observed Mr. Pine. "And I was very
sorry to see him as I did, for he could hardly walk straight. I was
coming off the Plain and met him there. He had halted, and was gazing
about, as if looking for some one: or, perhaps, in doubt--as it struck
me--whether he should go on home, or, return whence he had come; which
I supposed was from that favourite resort of yours, my men, the Golden
Shaft. 'Better go straight home, Bell,' I said to him. 'I'm going that
way, sir,' he answered. And he did go that way: for I watched him well
on to the Plain."
"Well, we caan't find him nohow, sir," observed Andrew Float. "What
time might that have been, sir, please?"
"Time? Something past seven. I should think it likely that Bell lay
down somewhere to sleep the liquor off," added the clergyman,
preparing to continue his way. "It is not often Bell exceeds as he did
yesterday, and therefore it would take more effect upon him." The
Bells, it may as well be remarked, were church people.
"Most likely he have faaled down, as tha paarson says; but he's a vool
for lying there still," observed the men amongst themselves, as they
turned off to pursue the search. Frank Raynor was out on his round
this morning, as usual, and paid a visit to Molly Janes, whom he found
going on satisfactorily. In passing Mrs. Bell's window, he saw
Rosaline: hesitated, and then lifted the latch and went in. He stayed
a minute or two talking with her alone, the mother being upstairs: and
left her with the one word emphatically repeated: "Remember."
When Tomson went home to his midday meal, he opened Mrs. Bell's door
to inform her that there were no tidings of her husband. Dame Bell
received the information with incredulity. Much they had searched! she
observed to her daughter, as Tomson disappeared: they had just sat
themselves down again at the Golden Shaft; that was what they had
done. Which accusation was this time a libel. She resolved to go and
look after him herself when she had eaten her dinner. As to Rosaline,
she did not know what to make of her. The girl looked frightfully ill,
did not speak, and every now and then was seized with a fit of
trembling.
"Such nonsense, child, to let the Whistlers frighten you into this
state!" cried Mrs. Bell, tartly.
Retiring to her room after dinner, she came down by-and-by with her
things on. Rosaline looked surprised.
"Where are you going, mother?"
"Into Trennach," said Dame Bell. "There's an old saying, 'If you want
a thing done, do it yourself.' I shall find your father, I'll be
bound, if he is to be found anywhere."
"You will be so tired, mother."
"Tired! Nonsense. Mind you have tea ready, Rosaline. I shall be sure
to bring him back with me; I'm not going to stand any nonsense: and
you might make a nice bit of buttered toast; he's fond of it, you
know."
Stepping briskly across the Plain, Mrs. Bell went onwards. Nothing
induces activity like a little access of temper, and she was boiling
over with indignation at her husband. The illness from which she was
suffering did not deprive her of exertion: and in truth it was not a
serious illness as yet, though it might become so. Symptoms of a slow,
inward complaint were manifesting themselves, and Dr. Raynor was doing
his best to subdue them. Privately he feared the result; but Dame Bell
did not suspect that yet.
Dr. Raynor and his nephew stood in the surgery after their midday
dinner, the doctor with his back to the fire, Frank handing some
prepared medicines, for delivery, to the boy who waited for them. As
the latter went out with his basket, Blase Pellet ran across the road
and came in, apron on, but minus his hat.
"Could you oblige us with a small quantity of one or two drugs, sir?"
he asked of Dr. Raynor: mentioning those required. "We are out of
them, and our traveller won't call before next week. Mr. Float's
respects, sir, and he'll be much obliged if you can do it."
"I dare say we can," replied Dr. Raynor. "Just see, Frank, will you?"
As Frank was looking out the drugs, Mr. Pine came in. He was rather
fond of running in for a chat with the doctor and Frank at leisure
moments. Frank was an especial favourite of his, with his unaffected
goodness of heart and his genial nature.
"A fine state of things, is it not!" cried the clergyman, alluding to
the idlers in the streets. "Three days of it, we have had now."
"They will be at work to-morrow, I hear," said the doctor.
"Has Bell turned up yet?"
"No. The men have just told me they don't know where to look for him.
They have searched everywhere. It seems strange where he can have got
to."
Blase Pellet, standing before the table, waiting for the drugs, caught
Frank's eye as the last words were spoken. A meaning look shot out
from Pellet, and Frank Raynor's gaze fell as he met it. It plainly
said, "_You_ know where he is:" or it seemed so to Frank's guilty
conscience.
"The fellow must have seen all!" thought Frank. "What on earth will
come of it?"
Some one pushed back the half-open door, and stepped in with a quick
gait and rather a sharp tongue: sharp, at least, this afternoon. Dame
Bell: in her Sunday Paisley shawl, and green strings to her bonnet.
"If you please, Dr. Raynor--I beg pardon, gentlefolk"--catching sight
of the clergyman--"if you please, doctor, could you give me some
little thing to quiet Rosaline's nerves. She heard the Seven Whistlers
last night, and they have frightened her out of her senses."
"Heard the Seven Whistlers!" repeated the clergyman, a hearty smile
crossing his face.
"She did, sir. And pretty nearly died of it. I'm sure last night I
thought she would have died. I'd never have supposed Rosaline could be
so foolish. But there; it is so; and to-day she's just like one dazed.
Not an atom of colour in her face; cowed down so as hardly to be able
to put one foot before the other; and every other minute has a fit of
the shivers."
To hear this astounding account of the hitherto gay, light-hearted,
and self-contained Rosaline Bell, surprised the surgery not a little.
Dr. Raynor naturally asked for further particulars; and Dame Bell
plunged into the history of the previous night, and went through with
it.
"Yes, gentlefolk, those were her very words--almost all we could get
out of her: 'Father heard them and they boded death.' I----"
"But you should have tried to reason her out of such nonsense,"
interrupted Dr. Raynor.
"_Me_ tried!" retorted Dame Bell, resenting the words. "Why, sir, it
is what I did do. Me and Nancy Tomson both tried our best; but all she
answered was just what I now tell you: 'Father heard the Whistlers,
and they boded death.'"
Mr. Blase Pellet, standing with the small packet of drugs in his hand,
ready to depart, but apparently unable to tear himself away, glanced
up at Frank with the last words, and again momentarily met his eye. A
slight shivering passed through Frank--caught perhaps from hearing of
Rosaline's shiverings--and he bent his face over a deep drawer, where
it could not be seen; as if searching for something missing.
"Well, it is a pity Rosaline should suffer herself to be alarmed by
anything of the sort," observed Dr. Raynor; "but I will send her a
composing draught. Are you going home now, Mrs. Bell?"
"As soon as I can find my husband, sir. I've come in to look for him.
Tomson wanted to persuade me that he and Andrew Float and a lot more
of them had been hunting for him all the morning; but I know better.
Bell is inside one of their houses, sleeping off the effects of
drink."
"The men have just told me they can't find him," said the clergyman.
"I know they have been searching."
"There's an old saying, sir, 'If you want a thing well done, do it
yourself.' I repeated it to Rose before I came out. Fine searching,
I've no doubt it has been!--the best part of it inside the Golden
Shaft. I'm going to look him up myself--and if you please, Dr. Raynor,
I'll make bold to call in, as I go back, for the physic for Rosaline."
Unbelieving Mrs. Bell departed. Blase Pellet followed her. Dr. Raynor
told Frank what to make up for Rosaline, and then he himself went out
with Mr. Pine.
A few minutes afterwards, Edina softly opened the surgery-door, and
glanced in. She generally came cautiously, not knowing whether
patients might be in it or not. But there was only Frank. And Frank
had his arms on the desk, and his head resting on them. The attitude
certainly told of despondency, and Edina stood in astonishment: it was
so unlike the gay-hearted young man.
"Why, Frank! What is the matter?"
He started up, and stared, bewildered, at Edina: as if his thoughts
had been far away, and he could not in a moment bring them back again.
Edina saw the trouble in his unguarded face, but he smoothed it away
instantly.
"You have not seemed yourself since last night, Frank," said she in
low tones, as she advanced further into the room. "Something or other
has happened, I am sure. Is it anything that I can set right?--or help
you in?"
"Now, Edina, don't run away with fancies," rejoined he, as gaily as
though he had not a care in the world. "There's nothing at all the
matter with me. I suppose I had dropped asleep over the physic. One
does not stay out raking till three o'clock in the morning every day,
you know."
"You cannot deceive me, Frank," rejoined Edina, her true, thoughtful
eyes fixed earnestly upon him. "I--I cannot help fancying that it is
in some way connected with Rosaline Bell," she added, lowering her
voice. "I hope you are not getting into any entanglement: falling in
love with her; or anything of that sort?"
"Not a bit of it," readily answered Frank.
"Well, Frank, if I can do anything to aid you in any way, you have
only to ask me; you know that," concluded Edina, perceiving he was not
inclined to speak out. "Always remember this, Frank: that in any
trouble or perplexity, the best course is to look it straight in the
face, freely and fully. Doing so takes away half its sting."
Meanwhile Dame Bell was pursuing her search. But she found that she
could not do more than the miners had done towards discovering her
husband. Into this house, out of that one, inquiring here, seeking
there, went she, but all to no purpose. She was not uneasy, only
exasperated: and she gave Mr. Blase Pellet a sharp reprimand upon his
venturing to hint that there might exist cause for uneasiness.
The reprimand occurred as she was returning towards home. After her
unsuccessful search, she was walking back down the street of Trennach
in a state of much inward wonder as to where Bell could be hiding, and
had nearly reached Dr. Raynor's, when she saw Float the druggist
standing at his shop-door, and crossed over to enlarge upon the
mystery to him. Mr. Blase Pellet came forward, as a matter of course,
from his place behind the book-counter to assist at the conference.
"Bell is safe to turn up soon," remarked the druggist, who was a
peaceable man, after listening to Mrs. Bell for a few minutes in
silence.
"Turn up! of course he will turn up," replied the dame. "What's to
hinder it? And he will have such a dressing from me that I don't think
he'll be for hiding himself again in a hurry."
Upon that, Blase Pellet, partially sheltered behind the burly form of
the druggist, spoke.
"Suppose he never does turn up? Suppose he is dead?--or something of
that kind."
The suggestion angered Mrs. Bell.
"Are you a heathen, Blase Pellet, to invent such a thought as that?"
she demanded in wrath. "What do you suppose Bell's likely to die
from?--and where?"
Leaving Mr. Pellet to repent of his rashness, she marched over to Dr.
Raynor's for the composing draught promised for Rosaline. And when
Mrs. Bell went home with it she fully expected that by that time the
truant would have made his appearance there.
But he had not done so. Rosaline had prepared the tea and toast,
according to orders, but no Bell was there to partake of it. Nancy
Tomson shared it instead. All the rest of the evening Dame Bell was
looking out for him; and exchanging suggestions with her neighbours,
who kept dropping in. Rosaline scarcely spoke: not at all unless she
was spoken to. The same cold, white hue sat on her face, the same
involuntary shiver at times momentarily shook her frame. The gossips
gazed at her curiously--as a specimen of the fright those dreaded
Whistlers had power to inflict.
They sat up again half the night, waiting for Bell, but waiting in
vain; and then they went to rest. Mrs. Bell did not sleep as well as
usual: she was disturbed with doubts as to where he could be, and by
repeated fancyings that she heard his step outside. Once she got up,
opened the casement, and looked out; but there was nothing to be seen;
nothing except the great Bare Plain lying bleak and silent in the
silver moonlight.