"I suppose so, my lord," said Beale, sleepy and puzzled.
"You have given me some anxiety. I had to come up to make sure he was here."
"But 'e ain't 'ere," said Beale. "Didn't you pick 'im up with the dog-cart, same as you said you would?"
"No," shouted Lord Arden. "Come down, Beale, and get a lantern. There must have been an accident."
The bedroom window showed a square of light, and Lord Arden below heard Beale blundering about above.
"'Ere's your coat," Mrs. Beale's voice sounded; "never mind lacing up of your boots. You orter gone a bit of the way with 'im."
"Well, I offered for to go, didn't I?" Beale growled, blundered down the stairs and out through the wash-house, and came round the corner of the house with a stable lantern in his hand. He came close to where Lord Arden stood—a tall, dark figure in the starlight—and spoke in a voice that trembled.
"The little nipper," he said; and again, "the little nipper. If anything's happened to 'im! Swelp me! gov'ner—my lord, I mean. What I meanter say, if anything's 'appened to 'im! One of the best!"
The two men went quickly towards the gate. As they passed down the quiet, dusty road Beale spoke again.
"I wasn't no good—I don't deceive you, guv'ner—a no account man I was, swelp me! And the
