Mouse, in any naughty way, or anything like that,' and,
in spite of himself, his voice faltered as he uttered the pet name of
their little friend.

His father turned upon him sharply.

'Get money from her,' he repeated. 'What do you mean? What put such a
thing in your head?'

'I-- I don't----' Justin was beginning, when Uncle Ted interrupted.

'I think we are wasting time,' he said; 'the whys and wherefores can be
gone into afterwards--the thing to do first is to find our poor darling.
If there is the least chance of the Crags knowing anything about her
some one had better go there at once. Mattie, I wonder you did not
mention the boy, Bob, having spoken to her this afternoon, before?'

'It only now came into my mind,' she replied gently. She was too unhappy
to feel hurt at Uncle Ted's tone; she knew he was so terribly unhappy
himself. Justin felt himself growing more and more miserable.

'Uncle Ted,' he exclaimed, 'may I go to the Crags? I can run very
quickly, and----.' But his uncle and father had already left the hall,
where they had all been standing, and had gone off again, probably to
give fresh orders in the stables. Only Aunt Mattie was still there, and
she had sat down on a chair by the large fire and was shading her eyes
with her hand. She was feeling dreadfully tired and more and more
wretched.

'If the darling has been out in the cold all this time,' she was saying
to herself, 'it is enough to kill her, even if no accident has happened
to her,' and all sorts of miserable thoughts came into her mind--of the
letters that might have to be written to Rosamond's father and mother,
telling--oh, it was too dreadful to think of _what_ might not have to be
told! She sat there motionless, except that now and then she shivered,
though not with cold. Justin saw that she was not thinking of or
noticing him at all, and he suddenly made up his mind to wait no longer.
He crossed the hall softly, and in another moment was out in the dark
drive in front of the house, unseen by any one. But once there, he
turned quickly, and ran, at the top of his speed, his eyes, as he went,
growing accustomed to the gloom, in the direction of the bit of lane
leading towards the moor, which Miss Mouse had traversed a few hours
earlier. Thence--as Justin knew well, even by the little light there
was--he could, by careful noticing of some landmarks, make his way to
the 'real' moor, as the boys called it, for the more or less grassy par