‘You had better go yourself, More,’ said Mr. Goldsmith.  ’One would not wish to keep poor Miss Kendal in suspense, though I dare say the boy is safe enough.’

Mr. Goldsmith was thanked, and Ulick hurried out, Hyder Ali leaping up in amazement at his master being loose at that time of day.

Everybody had thought the child was with somebody else till dinner-time, and the state of the vicarage was one of dire alarm and self-reproach.  Sophy was seeking and calling in every possible place, and had just brought herself to own the message of remembrance in Gilbert’s letter, thinking it possible Maurice might have gone to deliver it at Robbles Leigh; and Mr. Hope had undertaken to go thither in quest of him.  Ulick and Mr. Dusautoy, equally disappointed by the tower and the sailor, went again to Willow Lawn to interrogate the servants.  The gardener’s boy had heard Maurice scolding and the cat squalling, and the cook had heard his step in the house.  They hurried into his little room—­he was not there, but the drawers had been disturbed.

‘He may be gone to Fairmead!’ cried the Vicar.

‘How?’ said Ulick.  ‘Ha!  Hyder, sir!’ holding up a little shoe.  ’Seek!  That’s my fine doggie—­they only call you a mongrel because you have all the canine virtues united.  See what you can do as sleuth hound.  Ha!  We’ll nose him out for you in no time, Mr. Dusautoy!’

After sniffing round the drawers, the yellow tripod made an ungainly descent of the stairs, his nose down all the way, then across the hall and out at the gate; but when, after poking about, the animal set off on the turnpike-road, the Vicar demurred.

’Stay; the poor dog only wants to get you out for a walk.  He is making for the Hadminster road.’

’And why wouldn’t he, if the child is nowhere in Bayford?

’I can’t answer it to his mother wasting time in this way.  You may do as you like.  I shall go to the training-stables, where he has once been, if not on to Fairmead.  I can’t see Sophy till he is found!’

‘I shall abide by my little Orangeman,’ said Ulick; and they parted.

Hyder Ali pursued his way in the March dust, while Ulick eagerly scanned for the traces of a child’s foot.  Four miles did the dog go on, evidently following a scent, but Ulick’s mind misgave him as Hadminster church-tower rose before him, and the dog took the ascent to the station.

Ulick made his way in as a train stood panting before the platform.  He had a glimpse of a square face and curly hair at the window of a second-class carriage.

‘Maurice, come back!’ he cried.  ’Here, guard! this little boy must come back!’

‘Go on!’ shouted Maurice.  ’I’ve got my ticket.  ’No one can stop me.  I’m going to Malta!’ and he tried to get to the other side of a stout traveller, who defended his legs from him, and said, ’Ha!  Running away from school, young master!  Here’s your usher.’