nigh to the extreme boundary of the Debatable Land. They knew his
whistle, and were to ride to him at once should he call them.

He had left the house about noon, saying that he would be home to
dinner--which, however, on such occasions, was held to be a feast
movable over a wide space of time. But on this occasion the women
expected him to come early, as it was his intention to be out again
as soon as it should be dark. Mrs. Growler was asked to have the
dinner ready at six. During the day Mrs. Heathcote was backward and
forward in the kitchen. Then was something wrong she knew, but could
not quite discern the evil. Sing Sing, the cook, was more than
ordinarily alert; but Sing Sing, the cook, was not much trusted. Mrs.
Growler was "as good as the Bank," as far as that went, having lived
with old Mr. Daly when he was prosperous; but she was apt to be
downhearted, and on the present occasion was more than usually low in
spirits. Whenever Mrs. Heathcote spoke, she wept. At six o'clock she
came into the parlor with a budget of news. Sing Sing, the cook, had
been gone for the last half hour, leaving the leg of mutton at the
fire. It soon became clear to them that he had altogether absconded.

"Them rats always does leave a falling house," said Mrs. Growler.

At seven o'clock the sun was down, though the gloom of the tropical
evening had not yet come. The two ladies went out to the gate, which
was but a few yards from the veranda, and there stood listening for
the sound of Harry's horse. The low moaning of the wind through the
trees could be heard, but it was so gentle, continuous, and unaltered
that it seemed to be no more than a vehicle for other sounds, and was
as death-like as silence itself. The gate of the horse paddock
through which Heathcote must pass on his way home was nearly a mile