clock came; but no Sidney. They had sent to the place whither
he had been despatched; he had never arrived there. Mr. Morton grew
alarmed; and, when Mr. Spencer came to dinner, his host was gone in
search of the truant. He did not return till three. Doomed that day to
be belated both at breakfast and dinner, this decided him to part with
Sidney whenever he should be found. Mrs. Morton was persuaded that the
child only sulked, and would come back fast enough when he was hungry.
Mr. Spencer tried to believe her, and ate his mutton, which was burnt to
a cinder; but when five, six, seven o'clock came, and the boy was still
missing,--even Mrs. Morton agreed that it was high time to institute
a regular search. The whole family set off different ways. It was ten
o'clock before they were reunited; and then all the news picked up was,
that a boy, answering Sidney's description, had been seen with a young
man in three several parts of the town; the last time at the outskirts,
on the high road towards the manufacturing districts. These tidings so
far relieved Mr. Morton's mind that he dismissed the chilling fear that
had crept there,--that Sidney might have drowned himself. Boys will
drown themselves sometimes! The description of the young man coincided
so remarkably with the fellow-passenger of Mr. Spencer, that he did not
doubt it was the same; the more so when he recollected having seen
him with a fair-haired child under the portico; and yet more, when he
recalled the likeness to Catherine that had struck him in the coach, and
caused the inquiry that had roused Philip's suspicion. The mystery
was thus made clear--Sidney had fled with his brother. Nothing more,
however, could be done that night. The next morning, active measures
should be devised; and when the morning came, the mail brought to Mr.
Morton the two following letters. The first was from Arthur Beaufort.

"SIR,--I have been prevented by severe illness from writing to you
before. I can now scarcely hold a pen; but the instant my health is
recovered I shall be with you at N ----, on her deathbed, the mother of
the boy under your charge, Sidney Morton, committed him solemnly to
me. I make his fortunes my care, and shall hasten to claim him at your
kindly hands. But the elder son,--this poor Philip, who has suffered so
unjustly,--for our lawyer has seen Mr. Plaskwith, and heard the whole
story--what has become of him? All our inquiries have failed to track
him. Alas, I wa