CHAPTER VI. 

THE LIME-KILN. 

MR. MEADOWCROFT was the first to speak. "Somebody must find John," he said. 

"Without losing a moment," added his daughter. 

Ambrose suddenly stepped out of the dark corner of the room. 

"_I_ will inquire," he said. 

Silas followed him. 

"I will go with you," he added. 

Mr. Meadowcroft interposed his authority. 

"One of you will be enough; for the present, at least. Go you, Ambrose. Your brother may be wanted later. If any accident has happened (which God forbid!) we may have to inquire in more than one direction. Silas, you will stay at the farm." 

The brothers withdrew together; Ambrose to prepare for his journey, Silas to saddle one of the horses for him. Naomi slipped out after them. Left in company with Mr. Meadowcroft and his daughter (both devoured by anxiety about the missing man, and both trying to conceal it under an assumption of devout resignation to circumstances), I need hardly add that I, too, retired, as soon as it was politely possible for me to leave the room. Ascending the stairs on my way to my own quarters, I discovered Naomi half hidden by the recess formed by an old-fashioned window-seat on the first landing. My bright little friend was in sore trouble. Her apron was over her face, and she was crying bitterly. Ambrose had not taken his leave as tenderly as usual. She was more firmly persuaded than ever that "Ambrose was hiding something from her." We all waited anxiously for the next day. The next day made the mystery deeper than ever. 
Was someone hiddn in the shadows?
 I discovered Naomi half hidden by the recess formed by an old-fashioned window-seat on the first landing.