was met by the news of his
brother's disappearance, with his family. He was so astonished that he
sat open-mouthed, knife and spoon in hand, while his favourite dish of
broiled fowl grew cold, until he had heard all that Martha had to tell
him. Supper was no sooner over, than off he set to Primrose Croft.

"Well, Madge, old woman!" said he to the old housekeeper, who had once
been his nurse, "this is strange matter, surely! Is all true that
Martha tells me? Be all they gone, and none wist how nor whither?"

"Come in, and sit you down by the fire, Master Anthony," said Margery,
in whose heart was a very soft spot for her sometime nursling, "and I'll
tell you all I know. Here's the master's keys, they'll maybe be safer
in your hands than mine; he didn't leave 'em wi' me, but I went round
the house and picked 'em all up, and locked everything away from them
prying maids and that young jackanapes of a Dickon. Some he must ha'
took with him; but he's left the key of the old press, look you, and
that label hanging from it."

The Justice looked at the label, and saw his own name written in his
brother's writing.

"Ha! maybe he would have me open the press and search for somewhat. Let
us go to his closet, Madge. Thou canst tell me the rest there, while I
see what this meaneth."

"There's scarce any rest to tell, Mr Anthony; only they are all gone--
Master, and Mistress Grena, and Mistress Gertrude, and Osmund, and bay
Philbert, and the black mare, and old Jack."

"What, Jack gone belike! Dear heart alive! Why, Madge, that hath
little look of coming again."

"It hasn't, Mr Anthony; and one of Mistress Gertrude's boxes, that she
keeps her gems in, lieth open and empty in her chamber."

The Justice whistled softly as he fitted the key in the lock.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

HOW HE HEARD IT.

"Why, what's this?"

Mr Justice Roberts had opened the old press, tried all the drawers, and
come at last to the secret drawer, of whose existence only he and his
brother knew. No sooner had he applied his hand to a secret spring,
than out darted the drawer, showing that it held a long legal-looking
document, and a letter addressed to himself. He opened and read the
latter, Margery standing quietly at a little distance. Slowly and
thoughtfully, when he had finished the letter, he folded it up, pocketed
it, and turned to Margery.

"Ay, Madge," he said, "they are gone."

"And not coming back, Master Anthony?"

"N