“Would he come the other way?”

“Hardly.  It is so much further by the river than by the road.”

“You may depend upon it that is what he has done,” said Dr. Ashton.  “He might think he should meet some of you that way, and get an arm to help him.”

“I declare I never thought of that,” exclaimed Val, his face brightening.  “There he is, no doubt; perched somewhere between this and the mill, like patience on a monument, unable to put foot to the ground.”

He turned away.  Some of the men offered to accompany him:  but he declined their help, and begged them to go on with their dinner, saying he would take sufficient servants with him, even though they had to carry Hartledon.

So Mr. Elster went, taking servants and lanterns; for in some parts of this road the trees overhung, and rendered it dark.  But they could not find Lord Hartledon.  They searched, and shouted, and waved their lanterns:  all in vain.  Very much perplexed indeed did Val Elster look when he got back again.

“Where in the world can he have gone to?” angrily questioned the countess-dowager; and she glared from her seat at the head of the table on the offender Val, as she asked it.  “I must say all this is most unseemly, and Hartledon ought to be brought to his senses for causing it.  I suppose he has taken himself off to a surgeon’s.”

It was possible, but unlikely, as none knew better than Val Elster.  To get to the surgeon’s he would have to pass his own house, and would be more likely to go in, and send for Mr. Hillary, than walk on with a disabled foot.  Besides, if he had gone to the surgeon’s, he would not stay there all this time.  “I don’t know what to do,” said Percival Elster; and there was the same blank, perplexed look on his face that was observed the first time he came in.  “I don’t much like the appearance of things.”

“Why, you don’t think anything’s wrong with him!” exclaimed young Carteret, starting-up with an alarmed face.  “He’s safe to turn up, isn’t he?”

“Of course he will turn up,” answered Val, in a dreamy tone.  “Only this uncertainty, as to where to look for him, is not pleasant.”

Dr. Ashton motioned Val to his side.  “Are you fearing an accident?” he asked in low tones.

“No, sir.”

“I am.  That current by the mill is so fearfully strong; and if your brother had not the use of his one arm—­and the boat was drawn onwards, beyond his control—­and upset—­”

Dr. Ashton paused.  Val Elster looked rather surprised.

“How could it upset, sir?  The skiffs are as safe as this floor.  I don’t fear that in the least:  what I do fear is that Edward may be in some out-of-the-way nook, insensible from pain, and won’t be found until daylight.  Fancy, a whole night out of doors, in that state!  He might be half-dead with cold by the morning.”

Dr. Ashton shook his head in dissent.  His dislike of boating seemed just now to be rising into horror.