At eleven o'clock the household retired. Merriton, still ignorant of his
man's absence, went to bed and slept soundly. The first knowledge he
received of Collins' absence was when Borkins appeared in his bedroom in
the morning.
"Where the deuce is Collins?" Merriton said pettishly, for he did not
like Borkins, and they both knew it.
"That's exactly what I 'ave been tryin' ter find out, sir," responded
Borkins, bravely. "'E 'asn't been back since last night, so far as I
could make out."
"_Last night?_" Merriton sat bolt upright in bed and ran his fingers
through his hair. "What the dickens do you mean?"
"Collins went out last night, sir, to fetch your papers. Leastways that
was what he said he was goin' for," responded Borkins patiently, "and so
far as I knows he 'asn't returned yet. Whether he dropped into a public
'ouse on the way or not, I don't know, or whether he took the short cut
to the station across the Fens isn't for me to say. But--'e 'asn't come
back yet, sir!"
Merriton looked anxious. Collins had a strong hold upon his master's
heart.
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