"Nothing much—nothing worth speaking of," said Jip examining the floor of the hut extremely carefully.
"Come here, Jip," said the Doctor in a stern voice. 'You are hiding something from me. You see signs and you know something—or you guess it. What has happened? Tell me. Where is the Hermit?"
"I don't know," said Jip looking very guilty and uncomfortable. "I don't know where he is."
"Well, you know something. I can tell it from the look in your eye. What is it?"
But Jip didn't answer.
For ten minutes the Doctor kept questioning him. But not a word would the dog say.
"Well," said the Doctor at last, "it is no use our standing around here in the cold. The Hermit's gone. That's all. We might as well go home to luncheon."
As we buttoned up our coats and started back across the marsh, Jip ran ahead pretending he was looking for water-rats.
"He knows something all right," whispered the Doctor. "And I think he knows what has happened too. It's funny, his not wanting to tell me. He has never done that before—not in eleven years. He has always told me everything—Strange—very strange!"
