movement pushed forward the old bonnet, which had
slipped to the back of her head.

"'E 'asn't been in to 'is dinner," she said hurriedly. "I've been on
the Common looking for 'im."

"He may have made a mistake in the time," I suggested.

She made a movement as though to push me on one side, and turned towards
the door. She was calculating again. Her expression said quite plainly,
"Could he be there, could he be _there_?"

"Come, come," I said, "there is surely no need to be anxious yet."

She turned on me. "'E never makes a mistake in the time," she said
fiercely, "'e always knows the time to the minute without clock or
watch. Why did you leave 'im alone?"

She broke off in her attack upon me and continued: "'E's never been late
before, not a minute, and now it's a hour after 'is time."

"He may be at home by now," I said. She took the hint instantly and
started back again with the same stumbling little run.

I picked up my hat and followed her.

II

The Wonder was not at the cottage.

"Now, my dear woman, you must keep calm," I said. "There is absolutely
no reason to be disturbed. You had better go to Challis Court and see if
he is in the library, I----"

"I'm a fool," broke in Ellen Mary with sudden decision, and she set off
again without another word. I followed her back to the Common and
watched her out of sight. I was more disturbed about her than about the
non-appearance of the Wonder. He was well able to take care of himself,
but she.... How strange that with all her calculations she had not
thought of going to Challis Court, to the place where her son had spent
so many days. I began to question whether the whole affair was not, in
some way, a mysterious creation of her own disordered brain.

Nevertheless, I took upon myself to carry out that part of the programme
which I had not been allowed to state in words to Mrs. Stott, and set
out for Deane Hill. It was just possible that the Wonder might have
slipped down that steep incline and injured himself. Possible, but very
unlikely; the Wonder did not take the risks common to boys of his age,
he did not disport himself on dangerous slopes.

As I walked I felt a sense of lightness, of relief from depression. I
had not been this way by myself since the end of August. It was good to
be alone and free.

The day was fine and not cold, though the sun was hidden. I noticed that
the woods showed scarcely a mark of autumn decline.

There was not a sou