rietta was quite safe. She then partook of
claret-cup and sandwiches. Agatha, though glad to find someone disposed
to listen to her, was puzzled by her aunt's coolness, and was even
goaded into pointing out that though Smilash was not a laborer, it did
not follow that he was an honest man. But Mrs. Jansenius only said: "Oh,
she is safe--quite safe! At least, of course, I can only hope so. We
shall have news presently," and took another sandwich.

The searchers soon began to return, baffled. A few shepherds, the only
persons in the vicinity, had been asked whether they had seen a young
lady and a laborer. Some of them had seen a young woman with a basket of
clothes, if that mout be her. Some thought that Phil Martin the
carrier would see her if anybody would. None of them had any positive
information to give.

As the afternoon wore on, and party after party returned tired and
unsuccessful, depression replaced excitement; conversation, no longer
tumultuous, was carried on in whispers, and some of the local visitors
slipped away to their homes with a growing conviction that something
unpleasant had happened, and that it would be as well not to be mixed up
in it. Mr. Jansenius, though a few words from his wife had surprised and
somewhat calmed him, was still pitiably restless and uneasy.

At last the police arrived. At sight of their uniforms excitement
revived; there was a general conviction that something effectual would
be done now. But the constables were only mortal, and in a few moments a
whisper spread that they were fooled. They doubted everything told them,
and expressed their contempt for amateur searching by entering on
a fresh investigation, prying with the greatest care into the least
probable places. Two of them went off to the chalet to look for Smilash.
Then Fairholme, sunburnt, perspiring, and dusty, but still energetic,
brought back the exhausted remnant of his party, with a sullen boy, who
scowled defiantly at the police, evidently believing that he was about
to be delivered into their custody.

Fairholme had been everywhere, and, having seen nothing of the missing
pair, had come to the conclusion that they were nowhere. He had asked
everybody for information, and had let them know that he meant to have
it too, if it was to be had. But it was not to be had. The sole resort
of his labor was the evidence of the boy whom he didn't believe.

"'Im!" said the inspector, not quite pleased by Fairholme's zeal