The military and civil escort were still on parade before the house,
waiting for the governor-elect.

Mr. Rockharrt's carriage was standing before the door. He entered it and
ordered the coachman to drive to police headquarters.

The hour for the inauguration of the new governor was approaching. The
procession to the State house should have been in motion by this time.
The people on the sidewalks, at the doors and windows, on the balconies,
and on the roofs, all along the line of march, were beginning to be
weary of waiting.

The officials who had the ceremonies of the occasion in hand waited
until three o'clock in the afternoon, and then, as the governor-elect
was nowhere to be found, as the necessity was imminent, the inaugural
procession was ordered to begin its march.

"Where is he? Where is Rothsay?" demanded the spectators one of the
other.

No one knew. No one had seen him. No one could, therefore, answer.

When the procession reached the State house, the lieutenant-governor,
Kennelm Kennedy, was sworn in, and the military companies and the civic
societies and the spectators all dispersed.

But where was the governor? That was the question of the hour. Why had
he not been inaugurated? was asked by everybody of everybody else. The
secret of his total and unexplained disappearance had not, indeed, been
closely kept. His intimate friends, his household servants and the