on through the day, waiting for
the news which he knew must arrive sooner or later. At noon he thought
the landlady wore an unusually grave air, and he felt impelled to ask
her what was the matter. But then, if there was nothing--if she only
looked sour, as folks often did, just because it was Sunday--she might
think him too curious.

From his window, a little later, he saw a knot of people in the rain
talking eagerly together, and one of them pointing with his hand toward
Gethin. But they were too far off to be overheard, and he did not dare
go down and interrogate them. It was his object to appear utterly
indifferent to local affairs, and as a total stranger. He felt half
stifled within doors, and yet, if he should go out, he knew that he
would be incontrollably impelled to take the cliff path that he had
followed the preceding night, to watch that nobody came near the place
that held his prey, and thereby, like the bird who shows her nest by
keeping guard too near, attract attention. The tidings for which he
waited came at six o'clock, just as he was sitting down to his dinner.
The parlor-maid who served him had that happy and excited look which the
possession of news, whether it be good or bad, but especially the
latter, always imparts to persons of her class.

"There's strange news come from Gethin, Sir," said she, as she arranged
the dishes.

"Indeed," said Balfour, carelessly, though he felt his brain spin round
and his heart stop at the same moment. "What is it?"

"Mr. Coe, Sir, a very rich man--he as owns all Dunloppel--has
disappeared."

"How's that?"

"Well, Sir, he went to his room last night, they say, at his usual hour,
but never slept in his bed, and the front-door was found unlocked in the
morning, so that he must have gone away of himself. That would not be so
odd, for he is a secret sort of man, as is always coming and going; but
he has taken nothing with him; only the clothes he stood in."

"Well, I dare say he has come back again by this time, my good girl.
What's this? Is there no fish?"

"No, Sir; the weather was too bad yesterday for catching them, and all
last night there was a dreadful sea: that's what they fear about Mr.
Coe--that he has fell into the sea. His footsteps have been tracked to
the cliff edge, and there they stop."

"Poor fellow! Has he any relatives?"

"Oh yes, Sir; a wife and son--a very handsome, nice young gentleman."

"Then his widow will be rich, I suppose?"