was hot, and sent him off by the express at nine
o'clock this morning, for fear that if I allowed any delay he would talk
himself out of it."

"Do you mean to say Kenelm is actually gone? Good gracious."

Sir Peter stole softly from the room, and summoning his valet, said, "I
have sent Mr. Chillingly to London. Pack up the clothes he is likely
to want, so that he can have them sent at once, whenever he writes for
them."

And thus, by a judicious violation of truth on the part of his father,
that exemplary truth-teller Kenelm Chillingly saved the honour of
his house and his own reputation from the breath of scandal and the
inquisition of the police. He was not "THE MAN WHO HAD DISAPPEARED."

BOOK II.

CHAPTER I.

KENELM CHILLINGLY had quitted the paternal home at daybreak before any
of the household was astir. "Unquestionably," said he, as he walked
along the solitary lanes,--"unquestionably I begin the world as poets
begin poetry, an imitator and a plagiarist. I am imitating an itinerant
verse-maker, as, no doubt, he began by imitating some other maker
of verse. But if there be anything in me, it will work itself out in
original form. And, after all, the verse-maker is not the inventor of
ideas. Adventure on foot is a notion that remounts to the age of fable.
Hercules, for instance; that was the way in which he got to heaven, as
a foot-traveller. How solitary the world is at this hour! Is it not for
that reason that this is of all hours the most beautiful?"

Here he paused, and looked around and above. It was the very height of
summer. The sun was just rising over gentle sloping uplands. All the
dews on the hedgerows sparkled. There was not a cloud in the heavens. Up
rose from the green blades of corn a solitary skylark. His voice woke up
the other birds. A few minutes more and the joyous concert began.
Kenelm reverently doffed his hat, and bowed his head in mute homage and
thanksgiving.

CHAPTER II.

ABOUT nine o'clock Kenelm entered a town some twelve miles distant from
his father's house, and towards which he had designedly made his way,
because in that town he was scarcely if at all known by sight, and he
might there make the purchases he required without attracting any
marked observation. He had selected for his travelling costume a
shooting-dress, as the simplest and least likely to belong to his
rank as a gentleman. But still in its very cut there was an air of
distinction, and every lab