of Fife House all that week, returning disconsolate every evening to
the little inn on the banks of the Wan Water. Sunday came and
went without yielding a trace of him; and, almost in despair, they
resolved, if unsuccessful the next day, to get assistance and organize
a search for him. Monday passed like the days that had preceded it,
and they were returning dejectedly down the left bank of the Wan
Water in the gloaming, and nearing a part where it is hemmed in by
precipitous rocks and is very narrow and deep, crawling slow and black
under the lofty arch of an ancient bridge that spans it at one leap,
when suddenly they caught sight of a head peering at them over the
parapet. They dared not run for fear of terrifying him if it should be
the laird, and hurried quietly to the spot. But when they reached
the end of the bridge its round back was bare from end to end. On
the other side of the river the trees came close up, and pursuit was
hopeless in the gathering darkness.

"Laird, laird! they've ta'en awa' Phemy, an' we dinna ken whaur to
luik for her," cried the poor father aloud.

Almost the same instant, and as if he had issued from the ground, the
laird stood before them. The men started back with astonishment--soon
changed into pity, for there was light enough to see how miserable the
poor fellow looked. Neither exposure nor privation had thus weighed
upon him: he was simply dying of fear. Having greeted Joseph with
embarrassment, he kept glancing doubtfully at Malcolm, as if ready
to run on his least movement. In few words Joseph explained their
quest--with trembling voice and tears that would not be denied
enforcing the tale. Ere he had done the laird's jaw had fallen and
further speech was impossible to him. But by gestures sad and plain
enough he indicated that he knew nothing of her, and had supposed her