Morning came at last, and as the family assembled in the breakfast-room
with pale anxious faces, the question again and again was asked if any
trace had been found of little Hugh, Cousin Peter and the other
gentlemen, and Sam Barnby, came back; but they did not appear to have
anything satisfactory to communicate. Poor Cousin Peter, I never saw
his face look so long and miserable. I thought the anxiety would kill
him. He deemed to feel the event even more than Sir Hugh, who several
times murmured, "God's will be done, whatever has happened to the
child." It must be a great thing to be able to say that under all the
trials of life. With daylight the search through the park and grounds
was recommenced. I know that I cried outright when I saw men with nets
dragging the ponds. I had not realised the possibility that the dear
little fellow might actually be dead, as this proceeding suggested. I
was very thankful each time that I saw the drags come up empty. As I
remarked, the ground had become so hard early in the evening, that no
footprints could have been left on it. This circumstance made it
impossible to discover the direction little Hugh could have taken, had
he gone off by himself, which it was utterly improbable he should have
done, or that of anybody else.
Several gentlemen, county magistrates, and lawyers, and constables, came
during the day to see Sir Hugh, some to offer him advice and assistance,
others to receive his directions. He and Cousin Peter seemed at last to
have made up their minds that little Hugh had been carried off by the
mysterious individual who had been seen by the blacksmith and cobbler;
but how he had contrived to get into the house, no one could tell. The
mummers indignantly denied that any stranger could have come in with
them, while the servants as positively asserted that no one whom they
did not know had entered the house that evening. Another guest had been
expected in the afternoon, a Mr Strafford. I had remarked that
whenever his name was mentioned, Cousin Julia had looked very
interested, and once or twice I saw a blush rising on her cheek. He had
been there before, and Sir Hugh spoke highly of him. Julia had met him
at a house where she had been staying in the summer. Cousin Peter, on
the contrary, looked sad and pained, I fancied, whenever he was spoken
of; and putting that and other things together, I had little doubt that
Mr Strafford was a suitor for Cousin Julia's hand. I was, therefore,
curious to know what sort of a person Mr Strafford was. Both Sir Hugh
and Julia expressed themselves anxious for his arrival, under the belief
that he would materially assist in discovering what had become of little
Hugh. Why, I could not tell, except that he was a barrister, and that
barristers were supposed to be very clever fellows, who can always find
out everything. It was late in the afternoon, growing dusk, when a
post-chaise drove up to the door, and a slight, active, very intelligent
and good-looking young man got out of it. I was in a low window in the
ante-room reading, hidden by the back of a large arm-chair. I looked
out of the window and saw the new arrival, who the next instant was in
the room, when Julia went out to meet him. From the way they greeted
each other, I had no longer any doubt of the true state of the case.
They of course did not see me, or they might not have been so
demonstrative. Mr Strafford listened with knitted brow to the account
Julia gave him of little Hugh's disappearance, or rather I may say of
his abduction, for she had no doubt of his having been carried off by
the mysterious stranger.
"It is a sad alternative, for the sake of the family; but I see no other
course to pursue," said Mr Strafford. "The unhappy man must be
captured at all hazards. If we attempt to make any private compromise,
he will escape, and too probably never allow us to hear more of your
brother. For his own sake, I do not think that he will have ventured to
be guilty of violence."
"Oh! the disgrace, the disgrace to the family!" dried Julia. "Yet he
cannot be so cruel, so ungrateful, so wicked, as to venture to hurt poor
dear little Hugh."
"On that score set your mind at rest," answered Mr Strafford. "He will
try to escape with him, I suspect, to the coast of France, and his plan
will be to take him to some distant place where he thinks we shall not
discover him. I have no doubt that your father and cousin have already
taken measures to stop him. At all events we will see about it at once,
as there is no time to lose." Mr Strafford now went on into the
drawing-room, where Sir Hugh and Lady Worsley were waiting to see him.
From what I had heard, I now began to suspect who the mysterious
stranger was. I hurried off to consult with Jack on the subject. He
agreed with me that he must be a cousin of Sir Hugh's, who, being his
nearest kinsman of the male branch of the family, would succeed to the
title and estates, should he die without a son. This man, Everard
Worsley, was always a wild profligate character, and was at present
outlawed, so that he could not venture to show his face openly in
England. Of course it would be a great thing for him to get the heir
out of the way, as should no other son be born to Sir Hugh, he would
probably be able to have the statute of outlawry removed (I think that
is the proper term), and come and take possession, and turn Lady Worsley
and Cousin Julia out of the house, and send all the old servants about
their business, and fill the place with his own abandoned, reprobate
companions, and hangers on. This was a possibility, I had heard it
whispered, might occur. It was the skeleton in the family cupboard; it
was the not improbable event of all others to be dreaded and deplored.
I had heard, too, that this disreputable kinsman was nearly related to
Cousin Peter, and that Cousin Peter had an unbounded abhorrence for him,
that is to say, as much as he could have for any human being. I fancied
that Cousin Peter himself was in the line of succession, though I did
not know exactly where; but I was very certain that nothing would have
caused him more acute sorrow than to see those he loved so well removed
to make way for him.
I observed that Cousin Peter met Mr Strafford in the most frank and
cordial manner, and at once entered with him into a discussion as to the
steps which should next be taken for the recovery of the child. I did
not hear all that was to be done. I knew, however, that a number of the
most intelligent and trustworthy men in the neighbourhood were engaged.
Some were sent off to all the places on the coast whence boats could get
off, to ascertain if any had gone across the channel, and to examine any
which might be going, while other parties were, as soon as it was
daylight, to scour the forest in every direction. We boys, under Sam
Barnby, were, much to our satisfaction, to engage in this latter
service. Sir Hugh and the rest of the family, overcome with fatigue,
were compelled to go to bed; but all night long people were coming and
going with messages, showing that a very vigilant and active search was
being carried on. Neither Cousin Peter nor Mr Strafford, however, went
to bed, as they had taken upon themselves the direction of the search.
Indeed, unless Everard Worsley had succeeded at once in getting away
from the neighbourhood, it seemed scarcely possible that he should now
be able to make his escape.