"And why not, my friend?"

"Why," replied Rushbrook, recollecting himself, "he has not been over cordial with me lately."

"Nevertheless, depend upon it, he will if he can," replied Furness; "if not for you, he will for me. Good morning, Mrs Rushbrook, I will hasten away now; but will you not go with me?" continued Furness, appealing to Rushbrook.

"I will go another way; it's no use both going the same road."

"Very true," replied the pedagogue, who had his reasons for not wishing the company of Rushbrook, and Furness then left the house.

Mr Furness found all his boys a.s.sembled in the school-room, very busily employed thumbing their books; he ordered silence, and informed them that in consequence of Joey being missing, he was going to a.s.sist his father to look after him: and therefore they would have a holiday for that day. He then ranged them all in a row, made them turn to the right face, clap their hands simultaneously, and disperse.

Although Mr Furness had advised secrecy to the Rushbrooks, he did not follow the advice he had given; indeed, his reason for not having wished Rushbrook to be with him was, that he might have an opportunity of communicating his secret through the village, which he did by calling at every cottage, and informing the women who were left at home, that Joey Rushbrook had disappeared last night, with his father's gun, and that he was about to go in quest of him. Some nodded and smiled, others shook their heads, some were not at all surprised at it, others thought that things could not go on so for ever.

Mr Furness having collected all their various opinions, then set off to the ale-house, to find Byres the pedlar. When he arrived, he found that Byres had not come home that night, and where he was n.o.body knew, which was more strange, as his box was up in his bed-chamber. Mr Furness returned to the village intending to communicate this information to Rushbrook, but on calling, he found that Rushbrook had gone out in search of the boy. Furness then resolved to go up at once to the keeper's lodge, and solve the mystery. He took the high road, and met Rushbrook returning.

"Well, have you gained any tidings," inquired the pedagogue.

"None," replied Rushbrook.

"Then it's my opinion, my worthy friend, that we had better at once proceed to the keeper's cottage and make inquiry; for, strange to say, I have been to the ale-house, and my friend Byres is also missing."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Rushbrook, who had now completely recovered his self-possession. "Be it so, then; let us go to the keeper's."

They soon arrived there, and found the keeper at home, for he had returned to his dinner. Rushbrook, who had been cogitating how to proceed, was the first to speak.

"You haven't taken my poor Joey, have you, sir?" said he to the keeper.

"Not yet," replied the keeper, surlily.

"You don't mean to say that you know nothing about him?" replied Rushbrook.

"Yes, I know something about him and about you too, my chap," replied the keeper.

"But, Mr Lucas," interrupted the pedagogue, "allow me to put you in possession of the facts. It appears that this boy--a boy of great natural parts, and who has been for some time under my tuition, did last night, but at what hour is unknown to his disconsolate parents, leave the cottage, taking with him his father's gun, and has not been heard of since."

"Well, I only hope he's shot himself, that's all," replied the keeper.

"So you have a gun, then, have you, my honest chap?" continued he, turning to Rushbrook.

"Which," replied Furness, "as I have informed him already, will certainly be forfeited as a deodand to the lord of the manor; but, Mr Lucas, this is not all; our mutual friend, Byres, the pedlar, is also missing, having left the Cat and Fiddle last night, and not having been heard of since."

"Indeed! that makes out a different case, and must be inquired into immediately. I think you were not the best of friends, were you?" said the keeper, looking at Rushbrook; and then he continued, "Come, Mary, give me my dinner, quick, and run up as fast as you can for d.i.c.k and Martin: tell them to come down with their retrievers only. Never fear, Mr Furness, we will soon find it out. Never fear, my chap, we'll find your son also, and your gun to boot. You may hear more than you think for."

"All I want to know," replied Rushbrook, fiercely, for his choler was raised by the sneers of the keeper, "is, where my boy may be." So saying, he quitted the cottage, leaving the schoolmaster with the keeper.

As Rushbrook returned home, he revolved in his mind what had pa.s.sed, and decided that nothing could be more favourable for himself, however it might turn out for Joey. This conviction quieted his fears, and when the neighbours came in to talk with him, he was very cool and collected in his replies. In the meantime the keeper made a hasty meal, and, with his subordinates and the dogs, set off to the covers, which they beat till dark without success. The gun, however, which Joey had thrown down in the ditch, had been picked up by one of the labourers returning from his work, and taken by him to the ale-house. None could identify the gun, as Rushbrook had never permitted it to be seen. Lucas, the keeper, came in about an hour after dusk, and immediately took possession of it.

Such were the events of the first day after Joey's departure.

Notwithstanding that the snow fell fast, the Cat and Fiddle was, as it may be supposed, unusually crowded on that night. Various were the surmises as to the disappearance of the pedlar and of little Joey. The keeper openly expressed his opinion that there was foul play somewhere, and it was not until near midnight that the ale-house was deserted, and the doors closed.

Rushbrook and his wife went to bed; tired with watching and excitement, they found oblivion for a few hours in a restless and unrefreshing sleep.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

A CORONER'S INQUEST.

Day had scarcely dawned when the keeper and his satellites were again on the search. The snow had covered the ground for three or four inches, and, as the covers had been well examined on the preceding day, they now left them and went on in the direction towards where the gun had been picked up. This brought them direct to the furze bottom, where the dogs appeared to quicken their movements, and when the keepers came up with them again, they found them lying down by the frozen and stiffened corpse of the pedlar.

"Murder, as I expected," said Lucas, as they lifted up the body, and sc.r.a.ped off the snow which covered it; "right through his heart, poor fellow; who would have expected this from such a little varmint? Look about, my lads, and see if we can find anything else. What is Nap scratching at?--a bag--take it up, Martin. d.i.c.k, do you go for some people to take the body to the Cat and Fiddle, while we see if we can find anything more."

In a quarter of an hour the people arrived, the body was carried away, while the keeper went off in all haste to the authorities.

Furness, the schoolmaster, as soon as he had obtained the information, hastened to Rushbrook's cottage, that he might be the first to convey the intelligence. Rushbrook, however, from the back of the cottage, had perceived the people carrying in the body, and was prepared.

"My good people, I am much distressed, but it must be told; believe me, I feel for you--your son, my pupil, has murdered the pedlar."

"Impossible!" cried Rushbrook.

"It is but too true; I cannot imagine how a boy, brought up under my tuition--nay, Mrs Rushbrook, don't cry--brought up, I may say, with such strict notions of morality, promising so fairly, blossoming so sweetly--"

"He never murdered the pedlar!" cried Jane, whose face was buried in her ap.r.o.n.

"Who then could have?" replied Furness.

"He never shot him intentionally, I'll swear," said Rushbrook; "if the pedlar has come to his death, it must have been by some accident. I suppose the gun went off somehow or other; yes, that must be it: and my poor boy, frightened at what had taken place, has run away."

"Well," replied the schoolmaster, "such may have been the case; and I do certainly feel as if it were impossible that a boy like Joey, brought up by me, grounded in every moral duty--I may add, religiously and piously instructed--could ever commit such a horrible crime."

"Indeed, he never did," replied Jane; "I am sure he never would do such a thing."

"Well, I must wish you good-bye now, my poor people; I will go down to the Cat and Fiddle, and hear what they say," cried the pedagogue, quitting the cottage.

"Jane, be careful," said Rushbrook; "our great point now is to say nothing. I wish that man would not come here."

"Oh, Rushbrook!" cried Jane, "what would I give if we could live these last three days over again."

"Then imagine, Jane, what I would give!" replied Rushbrook, striking his forehead; "and now say no more about it."

At twelve o'clock the next day the magistrates met, and the coroner's inquest was held upon the body of the pedlar. On examination of the body, it was ascertained that a charge of small shot had pa.s.sed directly through the heart, so as to occasion immediate death; that the murder had not been committed with the view of robbing, it was evident, as the pedlar's purse, watch, and various other articles were found upon his person.

The first person examined was a man of the name of Green, who had found the gun in the ditch. The gun was produced, and he deposed to its being the one which he had picked up, and given into the possession of the keeper; but no one could say to whom the gun might belong.

The next party who gave his evidence was Lucas, the game-keeper. He deposed that he knew the pedlar, Byres, and that being anxious to prevent poaching, he had offered him a good sum if he would a.s.sist him in convicting any poacher; that Byres had then confessed to him that he had often received game from Rushbrook, the father of the boy, and still continued to do so, but Rushbrook had treated him ill, and he was determined to be revenged upon him, and get him sent out of the country; that Byres had informed him on the Sat.u.r.day night before the murder was committed, that Rushbrook was to be out on Monday night to procure game for him, and that if he looked out sharp he was certain to be taken.

Byres had also informed him that he had never yet found out when Rushbrook left his cottage or returned, although he had been tracking the boy, Joey. As the boy was missing on Monday morning, and Byres did not return to the ale-house, after he went out on Sat.u.r.day night, he presumed that it was on the Sunday night that the pedlar was murdered.

The keeper then farther deposed as to the finding of the body, and also of a bag by the side of it; that the bag had evidently been used for putting game in, not only from the smell, but from the feathers of the birds which were still remaining inside of it.