swept a deep curtsey.
They did not hurry about their walk back and consequently were the last to arrive at The Angel, where, they discovered, Mrs Pill was holding a council of war. Pale but determined, she was finally managing to instil a sense of worry into her listeners.
“I admit,” she said, “that Isobel tends to be disobedient and not come when she is called. But for her to stay out all night is unheard of. I tell you in all seriousness that something is amiss.”
“I have seen the Constable and he is organising a proper search some time today.”
“What do you mean by that?” came Tim’s beautifully educated voice. “Haven’t we looked properly then?”
“There’s no need for those remarks,” answered Mrs Pill testily. “It is my opinion that my daughter has been abducted.”
“But by whom?” asked Mrs Legassick, who had joined the party with her friends, all of whom had been out looking. “And for what purpose?”
Kathryn went dangerously white. “Who knows why? Probably for some unlawful design.”
“Oh surely not,” said a Mr Colquite, and the other echoed, “Surely not.”
Anne Anstey put in tactlessly, “Oh yes, I have heard of young girls being abducted. They take them to work in brothels or to send overseas to tend the plantations.”
Mrs Pill made a terrible retching sound and Tim said, “Steady on!”
Tabitha Bligh, who clearly regarded Mrs Anstey as some kind of rival, answered, “How cruel of you to say such things. Why, you could send the poor woman into an hysteric.”
John, who had been thinking much the same thing, glanced at Mrs Pill but saw that with great determination she was remaining in control of herself.
“So what are we going to do?” she asked, her face set and rigid. Everybody stared at everybody else but nobody said a word. The Apothecary broke the silence.
“We can do nothing until the Constable has searched the place. Then, I believe, we must follow his advice.”
But even as he spoke he recognised the futility of his words. William Trethowan was at heart a fairly simple man and would probably be as puzzled by Isobel’s disappearance as everybody else. He addressed Mrs Pill.
“Madam, we have just searched the town. There is nothing we can do further until the Constable reports to you.”
“You’re right, of course. But I have such a sense of futility. A longing to see my child again. Just sitting here makes me feel quite sickened.”
“I don’t know what to suggest.”
Elizabeth spoke. “I believe we should pass the time as pleasantly as possible. Why don’t we look round the local shops?”
Mrs Pill shook her head. “You go by all means. Personally, I would rather wait here for the Constable.”
“Do you mind if I take a stroll round?” Tim Painter asked, fixing Diana Warwick with such a meaningful glance that it shot through John’s mind that he might be the man she had come to meet.
“No, no, you go,” Kathryn answered, not noticing.
“Thank you.” And he made a hasty exit accompanied by most of the other men, only too glad to get away from the depressing atmosphere.
John caught Elizabeth’s eye and bowed. “May I accompany you?”
“Provided Rose wants to go, yes.”
The child stood up, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes please, Papa.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll go and shop.”
As he passed Miss Warwick she gave another deep curtsey. John paused. “Madam, will you be all right on your own?”
“I shall find company, don’t worry, Sir.”
“Then I’ll bid you good day.”
“Good day, Sir.” And under her breath she added the words, “Dearest Mr Rawlings.”
They delayed their return to the hostelry, relishing the time alone together. During their perambulations they passed the seven friends, Mrs Legassick and Mrs Bligh, together with the hot-eyed Anne Anstey, the brothers Colquite and the other two cousins walking dutifully behind.
John, somewhat amused by them, said, “I wonder if they ever
They did not hurry about their walk back and consequently were the last to arrive at The Angel, where, they discovered, Mrs Pill was holding a council of war. Pale but determined, she was finally managing to instil a sense of worry into her listeners.
“I admit,” she said, “that Isobel tends to be disobedient and not come when she is called. But for her to stay out all night is unheard of. I tell you in all seriousness that something is amiss.”
“I have seen the Constable and he is organising a proper search some time today.”
“What do you mean by that?” came Tim’s beautifully educated voice. “Haven’t we looked properly then?”
“There’s no need for those remarks,” answered Mrs Pill testily. “It is my opinion that my daughter has been abducted.”
“But by whom?” asked Mrs Legassick, who had joined the party with her friends, all of whom had been out looking. “And for what purpose?”
Kathryn went dangerously white. “Who knows why? Probably for some unlawful design.”
“Oh surely not,” said a Mr Colquite, and the other echoed, “Surely not.”
Anne Anstey put in tactlessly, “Oh yes, I have heard of young girls being abducted. They take them to work in brothels or to send overseas to tend the plantations.”
Mrs Pill made a terrible retching sound and Tim said, “Steady on!”
Tabitha Bligh, who clearly regarded Mrs Anstey as some kind of rival, answered, “How cruel of you to say such things. Why, you could send the poor woman into an hysteric.”
John, who had been thinking much the same thing, glanced at Mrs Pill but saw that with great determination she was remaining in control of herself.
“So what are we going to do?” she asked, her face set and rigid. Everybody stared at everybody else but nobody said a word. The Apothecary broke the silence.
“We can do nothing until the Constable has searched the place. Then, I believe, we must follow his advice.”
But even as he spoke he recognised the futility of his words. William Trethowan was at heart a fairly simple man and would probably be as puzzled by Isobel’s disappearance as everybody else. He addressed Mrs Pill.
“Madam, we have just searched the town. There is nothing we can do further until the Constable reports to you.”
“You’re right, of course. But I have such a sense of futility. A longing to see my child again. Just sitting here makes me feel quite sickened.”
“I don’t know what to suggest.”
Elizabeth spoke. “I believe we should pass the time as pleasantly as possible. Why don’t we look round the local shops?”
Mrs Pill shook her head. “You go by all means. Personally, I would rather wait here for the Constable.”
“Do you mind if I take a stroll round?” Tim Painter asked, fixing Diana Warwick with such a meaningful glance that it shot through John’s mind that he might be the man she had come to meet.
“No, no, you go,” Kathryn answered, not noticing.
“Thank you.” And he made a hasty exit accompanied by most of the other men, only too glad to get away from the depressing atmosphere.
John caught Elizabeth’s eye and bowed. “May I accompany you?”
“Provided Rose wants to go, yes.”
The child stood up, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes please, Papa.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll go and shop.”
As he passed Miss Warwick she gave another deep curtsey. John paused. “Madam, will you be all right on your own?”
“I shall find company, don’t worry, Sir.”
“Then I’ll bid you good day.”
“Good day, Sir.” And under her breath she added the words, “Dearest Mr Rawlings.”
They delayed their return to the hostelry, relishing the time alone together. During their perambulations they passed the seven friends, Mrs Legassick and Mrs Bligh, together with the hot-eyed Anne Anstey, the brothers Colquite and the other two cousins walking dutifully behind.
John, somewhat amused by them, said, “I wonder if they ever
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