He looked across at Mary, whose face was stony, and her eyes fixed upon him so strangely that he felt abashed, and turned to Mrs Ellis.

"Sad business, ma'am, from the beginning," he said; "but, as the saying is, we don't know, and perhaps it's all for the best."

Mrs Ellis sighed, the supper was at an end; and to the great relief of all, Barnett rose, and in a tone of voice which suggested that every one had been pressing him very hard to stay longer, he cried--

"Well, really, I must go now."

Mrs Ellis said meekly, "Must you, Mr Barnett?" and held out her hand promptly.

He shook hands with her quite affectionately, and then turned to Mary, who let him take her hand more than gave it, and he sighed as he said "Good-night."

"You'll think about the gravel, Mr Ellis?" he said to his host. "I want that garden to look better than any one in the county."

"Yes, you shall have it, Barnett, first time I can spare the horses at the farm. And I'll go down to the gate with you." They walked not only to the gate, but a couple of hundred yards towards the gardens before either spoke, and then just as Barnett was congratulating himself upon how well he had got on at the cottage that night, Ellis turned to him sharply.

"I told Mrs Mostyn about John Grange having gone away so suddenly."

"Did you, sir? What did she say?"

"That she didn't want to hear his name mentioned again, for she had been disappointed in the man."

"Poor chap!" said Barnett sadly.

"Yes, poor chap!" said Ellis hastily. "For Heaven's sake don't ever hint at such a thing at home, Daniel, but I've a horrible thought of something being wrong about that poor fellow. You don't think that, quite out of heart and in despair like, he has gone and done anything rash, do you?"

"Well, Mr Ellis, I didn't like to hint at such a thing to any one, but as you do think like that, and as old Tummus and his wife seem to be quite suspicious like, it did set me thinking, and I've felt sometimes that he must have walked two miles the other night to the river, and then gone in."

"By accident?" said Ellis quietly, "in his blindness."

"Ah!" said Barnett solemnly, "that's more than I can tell."

"Or must tell," said Ellis excitedly. "It mustn't even be breathed, Dan Barnett. If my Mary even heard it whispered, she'd go melancholy mad."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

"Nay, sir, I don't know any more about it, and I arn't a-going to say nowt about it, but if that there poor bairn--"

"What poor bairn?" said James Ellis angrily, as he stood in the keeping-room of old Tummus's cottage. "I was asking you about John Grange."

"Well, I know you were. Arn't he quite a bairn to me?"

"Please don't be cross with him, Mr Ellis, sir," said old Hannah respectfully; "it's only his way, sir."

"Very well, let him go on," cried James Ellis testily.

"Just you keep your spoon out o' the broth, mother," grumbled old Tummus, "I know what I'm about."

"Well, what was it you were going to say?" asked the bailiff.

"I were going to say as I wouldn't say nowt about it, and I won't, but that poor lad has either been made away wi--"

"Tut, tut, nonsense!"

"Well, then, he's made away wi' himself," cried old Tummus, bringing his hand down upon the table with a heavy bang.

The bailiff, who had not removed his hat before now, took it off, showing a heavy dew upon his forehead, which he wiped away as he looked uneasily from one to the other.

"What--what makes you say that, Tummus?" murmured Ellis, who did not seem to be himself at all.

"Now, Tummus, do mind what you're saying," said old Hannah, in a lachrymose tone of voice.

"Well, I am, arn't I? What I say is this: Warn't it likely?"

"Likely?"

"Aye, likely. Here's the poor lad loses his sight all at once just when he's getting on and going to be head-gardener and marry my pretty bairn."

"Nothing of the sort, sir," cried the bailiff warmly. "You're too fond of settling other people's business."

"Yes, Mr Ellis, sir, that's what I tell him," said old Hannah anxiously.

"Tchah!" growled old Tummus, giving his body a jerk. "Very well then, sir, he thowt he were, and it got on his mind like that he were all in the darkness, and it's my belief as he couldn't bear it, and went and made a hole in the water so as to be out of his misery."

"Oh, Tummus, you shouldn't!"

"No, no; he was not the man to do such a thing," said Ellis, whose voice sounded husky, and who looked limp and not himself.

"I dunno," growled Tummus; "they say when a man's in love and can't get matters settled, he's ready to do owt. I never weer in love, so I doan't know for sure."

"Oh, Tummus!" cried old Hannah reproachfully.

"Will ta howd thee tongue?" cried the old man.

"No, I won't, Tummus. Not even with Mr Ellis here, if you stand there telling such wicked stories."

"Arn't a story," cried the old man, with the twinkle of a grim smile at the corners of his lips. "Who'd ever go and fall in love with an ugly owd woman like thou?"

"It couldn't be that; no, no, it couldn't be that," said the bailiff hastily.

"Wheer is he then, sir?" said old Tummus firmly.

"Gone away for a bit--perhaps to London."

"Nay, not he," said old Tummus, shaking his head, "I'm sewer o' that."

"Why, how do you know?"