ONE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD.
Mrs. Savareen sat up waiting for her lord until long past midnight, but
her vigil was in vain. Lapierre, after closing up his inn for the
night, dropped in, according to his promise, to see if any news of the
absentee had arrived. Nothing further could be done in the way of
searching for the latter personage until daylight.
It was getting on pretty well towards morning when Mrs. Savareen sought
her couch, and when she got there her slumber was broken and disturbed.
She knew not what to think, but she was haunted by a dread that she
would never again see her husband alive.
Next morning, soon after daylight, the whole neighborhood was astir,
and the country round was carefully searched for any trace of the
missing man. Squire Harrington went down to town and made inquiries at
the bank, where he ascertained that the story told by Savareen to old
Jonathan Perry, as to his altercation with Shuttleworth, was
substantially correct. This effectually disposed of any possible theory
as to Jonathan and his wife having mistaken somebody else for Savareen.
Squire Harrington likewise learned all about the man's doings on the
previous afternoon, and was able to fix the time at which he had
started for home. He had ridden from the door of the Peacock at about a
quarter to eight. This would bring him to the toll-gate at eight
o'clock--the hour at which Perry professed to have seen and conversed
with him. There was no longer any room for doubt. That interview and
conversation had actually taken place at eight o'clock on the previous
evening, and Savareen had ridden northward from the gate within
five minutes afterwards. He could not have proceeded more than a
hundred--or, at the very outside, two hundred--yards further, or he must
inevitably have been encountered by Lapierre. How had he contrived to
vanish so suddenly out of existence? And it was not only the man, but
the horse, which had disappeared in this unaccountable manner. It
seemed improbable that two living substances of such bulk should pass
out of being and leave no trace behind them. They must literally have
melted into thin air.
No, they hadn't. At least the black mare hadn't, for she was discovered
by several members of the searching-party a little before noon. When
found, she was quietly cropping the damp herbage at the edge of the
cranberry swamp at the rear of Squire Harrington's farm. She was
wholly uninjured, and had evidently spent the night there. The bit had
been removed from her mouth, but the bridle hung intact round her neck.
The saddle, however, like its owner, had disappeared from her back.
Then the men began a systematic search in the interior of the swamp.
They soon came upon the saddle, which had apparently been deliberately
unbuckled, removed from off the mare, and deposited on a dry patch of
ground, near the edge of the morass. A little further in the interior
they came upon a man's coat, made of dark brown stuff. This garment was
identified by one of the party as belong to Savareen. It was wet and
besmirched with mud, and, in fact was lying half in and half out of a
little puddle of water when it was found. Then the searchers made sure
of finding the body.
But in this they were disappointed. They explored the recesses of the
swamp from end to end and side to side with the utmost thoroughness,
but found nothing further to reward their search. The ground was too
soft and marshy to retain any traces of footsteps, and the mare and
saddle furnished the only evidence that the object of their quest had
been in the neighborhood of the swamp--and of course this evidence was
of the most vague and inconclusive character.
Then the party proceeded in a body to the missing man's house. Here
another surprise awaited them. The coat was at once recognised by Mrs.
Savareen as belonging to her husband, but IT WAS NOT THE COAT WORN BY
HIM AT THE TIME OF HIS DISAPPEARANCE. Of this there was no doubt
whatever. In fact, he had not worn it for more than a week previously.
His wife distinctly remembered having folded and laid it away in the
top of a large trunk on the Saturday of the week before last, since
which time she had never set eyes on it. Here was a deepening of the
mystery.
The search was kept up without intermission for several days, nearly
all of the farmers in the vicinity taking part in it, even to the
neglect of the harvest work which demanded their attention. Squire
Harrington was especially active, and left no stone unturned to unravel
the mystery. Lapierre gave up all his time to the search, and left the
Royal Oak to the care of its landlady. The local constabulary bestirred
themselves as they had never done before. Every place, likely and
unlikely, where a man's body might possibly lie concealed; every tract
of bush and woodland; every barn and out building; every hollow and
ditch; every field and fence corner, was explored with careful
minuteness. Even the wells of the district were peered into and
examined for traces of the thirteen stone of humanity which had so
unaccountably disappeared from off the face of the earth. Doctor Scott,
the local coroner, held himself in readiness to summon a coroner's jury
at the shortest notice. When all these measures proved unavailing, a
public meeting of the inhabitants was convened, and funds were
subscribed to still further prosecute the search. A reward of a hundred
pounds was offered for any information which should lead to the
discovery of the missing man, dead or alive, or, which should throw any
light upon his fate. Hand-bills proclaiming this reward, and describing
the man's personal appearance, were exhibited in every bar room and
other conspicuous place throughout Westchester and the adjacent
townships. Advertisements, setting forth the main facts, were inserted
in the principal newspapers of Toronto, Hamilton and London, as well as
in those of several of the nearest county towns.
All to no purpose. Days--weeks--months passed by, and furnished not the
shadow of a clue to the mysterious disappearance of Reginald Bourchier
Savareen on the night of Monday, the 17th of July, 1854.