Chapter 8 - Page 2

"No, miss, he's just gone to town."

"Just gone! When do you mean?" cried Jean, forgetting the relief she
felt in hearing of his absence in surprise at his late departure.

"He went half an hour ago, in the last train, miss."

"I thought he was going early this morning; he told me he should be back
this evening."

"I believe he did mean to go, but was delayed by company. The steward
came up on business, and a load of gentlemen called, so Sir John could
not get off till night, when he wasn't fit to go, being worn out, and
far from well."

"Do you think he will be ill? Did he look so?" And as Jean spoke, a
thrill of fear passed over her, lest death should rob her of her prize.

"Well, you know, miss, hurry of any kind is bad for elderly gentlemen
inclined to apoplexy. Sir John was in a worry all day, and not like
himself. I wanted him to take his man, but he wouldn't; and drove off
looking flushed and excited like. I'm anxious about him, for I know
something is amiss to hurry him off in this way."

"When will he be back, Ralph?"

"Tomorrow noon, if possible; at night, certainly, he bid me tell anyone
that called."

"Did he leave no note or message for Miss Coventry, or someone of
the family?"

"No, miss, nothing."

"Thank you." And Jean walked back to spend a restless night and rise to
meet renewed suspense.

The morning seemed endless, but noon came at last, and under the
pretense of seeking coolness in the grotto, Jean stole away to a slope
whence the gate to the Hall park was visible. For two long hours she
watched, and no one came. She was just turning away when a horseman
dashed through the gate and came galloping toward the Hall. Heedless of
everything but the uncontrollable longing to gain some tidings, she ran
to meet him, feeling assured that he brought ill news. It was a young
man from the station, and as he caught sight of her, he drew bridle,
looking agitated and undecided.

"Has anything happened?" she cried breathlessly.

"A dreadful accident on the railroad, just the other side of
Croydon. News telegraphed half an hour ago," answered the man,
wiping his hot face.

"The noon train? Was Sir John in it? Quick, tell me all!"

"It was that train, miss, but whether Sir John was in it or not, we
don't know; for the guard is killed, and everything is in such confusion
that nothing can be certain. They are at work getting out the dead and
wounded. We heard that Sir John was expected, and I came up to tell Mr.
Coventry, thinking he would wish to go down. A train leaves in