the while how he could discover the place to which Alice
had been removed, and how he should tell Christie. He met several
people on the road, but noticed none of them, and reached his own house
without having exchanged a word with any one he knew. He let himself
in, and with a sinking heart, opened the parlour door.

"Dear heart, Master Hall!" said the voice of Collet Pardue, who was
seated by Christie's couch, "but there's ill news in your face! What's
ado, prithee?"

"Oh, Father, is Aunt Alice sick?" cried Christie.

Roger came round to the couch, and knelt down, one hand clasping that of
his little girl, and the other tenderly laid upon her head.

"My Christie," he said, "they have taken Aunt Alice away, I know not
whither. But our Father knows. Perchance He will show us. But whether
or not, all is well with her, for she is in His care that loveth her
more than we."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

MR. BENDEN'S DESSERT.

"Taken her away from the gaol! and you wot not whither? Well, Roger
Hall, you're as pretty a man of your hands as ever I did behold!"

"How signify you, Sister Tabitha?"

"Would I ever have turned back from Canterbury till I'd found out?
Marry, not I! I'd have known all about it in half a twink."

"Please, Aunt Tabitha, if you have half a twink to spare--I know not
what it is, but I suppose you do--won't you go and find out Aunt Alice?"

This practical suggestion from Christie was quietly ignored.

"'Tis right like a man as ever I did see! Catch a woman turning back in
that fashion afore she'd half done her work!"

"But, Aunt Tabitha," urged Christie, for her father sat in silence, and
she felt herself bound to defend him, "have you forgotten what the
porter said to Father? If they--"

"Pack o' nonsense!" snorted Aunt Tabitha. "He would fain keep him from
continual coming, and he spake out the first thing that came in his
head, that's all. None but a babe like thee should take any note of
such rubbish. Can't you speak up, Roger Hall? or did you drop your
tongue where you left your wits?"

"Methinks you have a sufficiency for us both, Tabitha," said Roger
quietly, leaving it uncertain whether he alluded to the tongue or the
wits.

"Mean you to go again to-morrow?"

"That cannot I yet say. I lack time to think--and to pray likewise."

"Lack time to _think_! Gramercy me! How long doth a man want to gather
up his wits together? I should have thought of fifty things whilst I