"Nothing! Where did they carry her to? What did they do with her? Go on!

go on!"

"Well," said the watchman, eyeing the speaker curiously, "I'm going to.

They went along, down to the river, both of them, and I saw a boat shove

off, shortly after, and that something, with its head in a shawl, lying

as peaceable as a lamb, with one of the two beside it. That's all--I

went asleep about then, till you two were shaking me and waking me up."

Sir Norman and Hubert looked at each other, one between despair and

rage, the other with a thoughtful, half-inquiring air, as if he had some

secret to tell, and was mentally questioning whether it was safe to do

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so. On the whole, he seemed to come to the conclusion, that a silent

tongue maketh a wise head, and nodding and saying "Thank you!" to the

watchman, he passed his arm through Sir Norman's, and drew him back to

the door of Leoline's house.

"There is a light within," he said, looking up at it; "how comes that?"

"I found the lamp burning, when I returned, and everything undisturbed.

They must have entered noiselessly, and carried her off without a

straggle," replied Sir Norman, with a sort of groan.

"Have you searched the house--searched it well?"

"Thoroughly--from top to bottom!"

"It seems to me there ought to be some trace. Will you come back with me

and look again?"

"It is no use; but there in nothing else I can do; so come along!"

They entered the house, and Sir Norman led the page direct to Leoline's

room, where the light was.

"I left her here when I went away, and here the lamp was burning when I

came back: so it must have been from this room she was taken."

Hubert was gazing slowly and critically round, taking note of

everything. Something glistened and flashed on the floor, under the

mantel, and he went over and picked it up.

"What have you there?" asked Sir Norman in surprise; for the boy had

started so suddenly, and flushed so violently, that it might have

astonished any one.

"Only a shoe-buckle--a gentleman's--do you recognize it?"

Though he spoke in his usual careless way, and half-hummed the air of

one of Lord Rochester's love songs, he watched him keenly as he examined

it. It was a diamond buckle, exquisitely set, and of great beauty and

value; but Sir Norman knew nothing of it.

"There are initials upon it--see there!" said Hubert, pointing, and

still watching him with the same powerful glance. "The letters C. S.

That can't stand for Count L'Estrange."

"Who then can it stand for?" inquired Sir Norman, looking at him

fixedly, and with far more penetration than the court page had given him

credit for. "I am certain you know."




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