ad nothing to do but run up to Mrs.
Grey for petting and sympathy whenever he made things too hot for
himself at Firgrove. Well, if Darby has disobeyed me this time, after
all I said, and the Catechism and everything, I won't be so soft with
him in future, that's certain!" declared Aunt Catharine, in her severest
voice; yet her fresh-coloured face had grown pale, her eyes were
troubled, her lips trembled. In her heart of hearts she wished she had
not been quite so strict with her nephew's children, Darby
especially--poor Dorothy Archdale's motherless little lad.

It was afternoon by the time the ladies arrived at Firdale, the small
wayside station nearest to Firgrove. Mr. Grey had forsaken his farm and
his threshing, and was waiting to receive them. But one glance at his
honest face was sufficient to assure them that he was not the bearer of
any good news. Nothing further had been heard of the missing children.
Copsley Wood had been scoured by a band of beaters from end to end, with
no better success than had attended the efforts of the two men the night
before. Mr. Grey's thoughts had reverted again and again to the
ill-favoured man and black-browed woman--gipsies they were said to be,
but more likely they were only ordinary vagrants--who had been seen
lately loitering about the neighbourhood, and whose appearance had given
rise to the wildest and absurdest rumours. One cottager, it was said,
had lost all her hens; another missed a young pig out of its sty, while
the ailing infant of a third had died in convulsions soon after the
dark-faced female was at the door demanding a draught of milk! Mrs. Grey
had suggested that perhaps the evil pair had kidnapped the pretty
children, meaning to make use of them in some way--for such things
happened, if one was to believe all that appeared in the newspapers--or
in order to draw a reward out of their friends. Her husband laughed at
the idea; yet he caused the tramps to be traced and followed from their
deserted quarters in the wood up to the time when they had forced their
way, as the bargeman affirmed, on board the barge-boat close beside the
village of Shendon. They had no youngsters with them then of any
description, bargee was positive; just the man and woman by themselves.
They were not gipsies at all, he added, but some sort of play-acting
people journeying to join their party, who had preceded them to
Barchester by a few days. Folks of that class were not likely to have
h