No More Learning

At first he was too much overpowered with grief to be able to do any
thing at all, or to concert upon any plan of action; so that for a long
time he endeavored to dissuade Mr. Shuttleworthy's other friends from
making a stir about the matter, thinking it best to wait awhile--say for
a week or two, or a month, or two--to see if something wouldn't turn up,
or if Mr. Shuttleworthy wouldn't come in the natural way, and explain
his reasons for sending his horse on before. I dare say you have often
observed this disposition to temporize, or to procrastinate, in people
who are labouring under any very poignant sorrow. Their powers of mind
seem to be rendered torpid, so that they have a horror of any thing like
action, and like nothing in the world so well as to lie quietly in bed
and "nurse their grief," as the old ladies express it--that is to say,
ruminate over the trouble.

The people of Rattleborough had, indeed, so high an opinion of the
wisdom and discretion of "Old Charley," that the greater part of them
felt disposed to agree with him, and not make a stir in the business
"until something should turn up," as the honest old gentleman worded
it; and I believe that, after all this would have been the general
determination, but for the very suspicious interference of Mr.
Shuttleworthy's nephew, a young man of very dissipated habits,
and otherwise of rather bad character. This nephew, whose name was
Pennifeather, would listen to nothing like reason in the matter of
"lying quiet," but insisted upon making immediate search for the "corpse
of the murdered man. "--This was the expression he employed; and Mr.
Goodfellow acutely remarked at the time, that it was "a singular
expression, to say no more. " This remark of 'Old Charley's,' too, had
great effect upon the crowd; and one of the party was heard to ask,
very impressively, "how it happened that young Mr. Pennifeather was so
intimately cognizant of all the circumstances connected with his wealthy
uncle's disappearance, as to feel authorized to assert, distinctly
and unequivocally, that his uncle was 'a murdered man. '" Hereupon some
little squibbing and bickering occurred among various members of
the crowd, and especially between "Old Charley" and Mr.
Pennifeather--although this latter occurrence was, indeed, by no means a
novelty, for no good will had subsisted between the parties for the
last three or four months; and matters had even gone so far that Mr.
Pennifeather had actually knocked down his uncles friend for some
alleged excess of liberty that the latter had taken in the uncle's
house, of which the nephew was an inmate.
Upon this occasion "Old
Charley" is said to have behaved with exemplary moderation and Christian
charity. He arose from the blow, adjusted his clothes, and made no
attempt at retaliation at all--merely muttering a few words about
"taking summary vengeance at the first convenient opportunity,"--a
natural and very justifiable ebullition of anger, which meant nothing,
however, and, beyond doubt, was no sooner given vent to than forgotten.

However these matters may be (which have no reference to the point
now at issue), it is quite certain that the people of Rattleborough,
principally through the persuasion of Mr. Pennifeather, came at length
to the determination of dispersion over the adjacent country in search
of the missing Mr. Shuttleworthy. I say they came to this determination
in the first instance. After it had been fully resolved that a search
should be made, it was considered almost a matter of course that the
seekers should disperse--that is to say, distribute themselves in
parties--for the more thorough examination of the region round about. I
forget, however, by what ingenious train of reasoning it was that
"Old Charley" finally convinced the assembly that this was the most
injudicious plan that could be pursued. Convince them, however, he
did--all except Mr. Pennifeather, and, in the end, it was arranged that
a search should be instituted, carefully and very thoroughly, by the
burghers en masse, "Old Charley" himself leading the way.

As for the matter of that, there could have been no better pioneer
than "Old Charley," whom everybody knew to have the eye of a lynx;
but, although he led them into all manner of out-of-the-way holes and
corners, by routes that nobody had ever suspected of existing in the
neighbourhood, and although the search was incessantly kept up day and
night for nearly a week, still no trace of Mr. Shuttleworthy could be
discovered. When I say no trace, however, I must not be understood to
speak literally, for trace, to some extent, there certainly was.
The poor gentleman had been tracked, by his horses shoes (which were
peculiar), to a spot about three miles to the east of the borough,
on the main road leading to the city. Here the track made off into a
by-path through a piece of woodland--the path coming out again into the
main road, and cutting off about half a mile of the regular distance.
Following the shoe-marks down this lane, the party came at length to a
pool of stagnant water, half hidden by the brambles, to the right of the
lane, and opposite this pool all vestige of the track was lost sight
of.