in and made inquiry in all directions. It grew necessary to concoct a
story to appease Mrs. Peytral, who had been taken back to her bedroom.
Bowmore spent the whole night in fruitless search and inquiry, and
then, with the morning, came the terrible news of the discovery in the
burnt barn; and late in the afternoon Bowmore was arrested.

The poor girl had a great struggle to restrain her feelings during the
conversation, and, at its close, Hewitt had to use all his tact to keep
her going. Physical exhaustion, as well as mental trouble, were against
her, and stimulus was needed. So Hewitt said, "Now you must try your
best, and if you will keep up as well as you have done a little longer,
perhaps I may have good news for you soon. I must go at once and examine
things. First, I should like to have brought to me every single pair of
boots or shoes belonging to your father. Send them, and then go and look
after your mother. Remember, you are helping all the time."

III

Hewitt examined the boots and shoes with great rapidity, but with a
singularly quick eye for peculiarities.

"He liked a light shoe," he said, "and he preferred to wear shoes rather
than boots. There are few boots, and those not much worn, although he
was living in the country. Trod square on the right foot, inward on the
left, and wore the left heel more than the right. It's plain he hated
nails, for these are all hand-sewn, with scarcely as much as a peg
visible in the lot; and they are all laced, boots and shoes alike. Come,
this is the best-worn pair; it is also a pair of the same sort the maid
tells me he must have been wearing, since they are missing; low shoes,
laced; we'll take them with us."

We left the house and sought our friend the coachman. He pointed out
quite clearly the path by which his master had gone on his last walk;
showed us the gate, still fastened, over which he had climbed to gain
the adjoining meadow, and put us in the way of finding the small wood
and the barn.

Both within and without the gate there was a small patch bare of grass,
worn by feet; and here Martin Hewitt picked up his trail at once.

"The ground has hardened since Thursday night," he said; "and so much
the better--it keeps the marks for us. Do you see what is here?"

There were footmarks, certainly, but so beaten and confused that I could
make nothing of them. Hewitt's practised eye, however, read them as I
might have read a rather illegibly written l