who it is?"

"Can't see--a thing--under--his--nose," murmured the fair sleeper.

"Celia!" said Mr. Quince, sharply. "Celia!"

He took a hoe from the wall and prodded her gently with the handle. A
singularly vicious expression marred the soft features, but that was all.

"Ce-lia!" said the shoemaker, who feared sun-stroke.

"Fancy if he--had--a moment's common sense," murmured Celia, drowsily,
"and locked--the door."

Lawyer Quince dropped the hoe with a clatter and stood regarding her
open-mouthed. He was a careful man with his property, and the stout door
boasted a good lock. He sped to the house on tip-toe, and taking the key
from its nail on the kitchen dresser returned to the shed, and after
another puzzled glance at the sleeping girl locked her in.

For half an hour he sat in silent enjoyment of the situation--enjoyment
which would have been increased if he could have seen Mr. Rose standing
at the gate of Holly Farm, casting anxious glances up and down the road.
Celia's luggage had gone down to the White Swan, and an excellent cold
luncheon was awaiting her attention in the living-room.

Half-past one came and no Celia, and five minutes later two farm
labourers and a boy lumbered off in different directions in search of the
missing girl, with instructions that she was to go straight to the White
Swan to meet the coach. The farmer himself walked down to the inn,
turning over in his mind a heated lecture composed for the occasion, but
the coach came and, after a cheerful bustle and the consumption of sundry
mugs of beer, sped on its way again.

He returned home in silent consternation, seeking in vain for a
satisfactory explanation of the mystery. For a robust young woman to
disappear in broad day-light and leave no trace behind her was
extraordinary. Then a sudden sinking sensation in the region of the
waistcoat and an idea occurred simultaneously.

He walked down to the village again, the idea growing steadily all the
way. Lawyer Quince was hard at work, as usual, as he passed. He went by
the window three times and gazed wistfully at the cottage. Coming to the
conclusion at last that two heads were better than one in such a
business, he walked on to the mill and sought Mr. Hogg.

"That's what it is," said the miller, as he breathed his suspicions.
"I thought all along Lawyer Quince would have the laugh of you. He's
wonderful deep. Now, let's go to work cautious like. Try and look as if
no