XXVII.
FOUND.
I gave a low cry and rushed down the steps.
"Don't go!" I called out to the driver. "I shall want you in tenminutes." And hurrying back, I ran up-stairs in a condition of mind suchas I have no reason to be proud of. Happily Mr. Gryce was not there tosee me.
"Gone? Miss Oliver gone?" I cried to the maid whom I found trembling ina corner of the hall.
"Yes, ma'am; it was my fault, ma'am. She was in bed so quiet, I thoughtI might step out for a minute, but when I came back her clothes weremissing and she was gone. She must have slipped out at the front doorwhile Dan was in the back hall. I don't see how ever she had thestrength to do it."
Nor did I. But I did not stop to reason about it; there was too much tobe done. Rushing on, I entered the room I had left in such high hopes afew hours before. Emptiness was before me, and I realized what it was tobe baffled at the moment of success. But I did not waste an instant ininactivity. I searched the closets and pulled open the drawers; foundher coat and hat gone, but not Mrs. Van Burnam's brown skirt, though thepurse had been taken out of the pocket.
"Is her bag here?" I asked.
Yes, it was in its old place under the table; and on the wash-stand andbureau were the simple toilet articles I had been told she had broughtthere. In what haste she must have fled to leave these necessitiesbehind her!
But the greatest shock I received was the sight of the knitting-work,with which I had so inconsiderately meddled the evening before, lying inravelled heaps on the table, as if torn to bits in a frenzy. This was aproof that the fever was yet on her; and as I contemplated this fact Itook courage, thinking that one in her condition would not be allowed torun the streets long, but would be picked up and put in some hospital.
In this hope I began my search. Miss Althorpe, who came in just as I wasabout to leave the house, consented to telephone to Police Headquartersa description of the girl, with a request to be notified if such aperson should be found in the streets or on the docks or at any of thestation-houses that night. "Not," I assured her, as we left thetelephone and I prepared to say good-bye for the day, "that you needexpect her to be brought back to this house, for I do not mean that sheshall ever darken your doors again. So let me know if they find her, andI will relieve you of all further responsibility in the matter."
Then I started out.
To name the streets I traversed or the places I visited that day, wouldtake more space than I would like to devote to the subject. Dusk came,and I had failed in obtaining the least clue to her whereabouts; eveningfollowed, and still no trace of the fugitive. What was I to do? Take Mr.Gryce into my confidence after all? That would be galling to my pride,but I began to fear I should have to submit to this humiliation when Ihappened to think of the Chinaman. To think of him once was to think ofhim twice, and to think of him twice was to be conscious of anirresistible desire to visit his place and find out if any one butmyself had been there to inquire after the lost one's clothes.
Accompanied by Lena, I hurried away to Third Avenue. The laundry wasnear Twenty-seventh Street. As we approached I grew troubled andunaccountably expectant. When we reached it I understood my excitementand instantly became calm. For there stood Miss Oliver, gazing like oneunder a spell through the lighted window-panes into the narrow shopwhere the owner bent over his ironing. She had evidently stood theresome time, for a small group of half-grown lads were watching her withevery symptom of being about to break into a mischievous display ofcuriosity. Her hands, which were without gloves, were pressed againstthe glass, and her whole attitude showed an intensity of fatigue whichwould have laid her on the ground had she not been sustained by an equalintensity of purpose.
Sending Lena for a carriage, I approached the poor creature and drew herforcibly from the window.
"Do you want anything here?" I asked. "I will go in with you if you do."
She surveyed me with strange apathy, and yet with a certain sort ofrelief too. Then she slowly shook her head.
"I don't know anything about it. My head swims and everything looksqueer, but some one or something sent me to this place."
"Come in," I urged, "come in for a minute." And half supporting her,half dragging her, I managed to get her across the threshold and intothe Chinaman's shop.
Immediately a dozen faces were pressed where hers had been.
The Chinaman, a stolid being, turned as he heard the little bell tinklewhich announced a customer.
"Is this the lady who left the clothes here a few nights ago?" I asked.
He stopped and stared, recognizing me slowly, and remembering by degreeswhat had passed between us at our last interview.
"You tellee me lalee die; how him lalee when lalee die?"
"The lady is not dead; I made a mistake. Is this the lady?"
"Lalee talk; I no see face, I hear speak."
"Have you seen this man before?" I inquired of my nearly insensiblecompanion.
"I think so in a dream," she murmured, trying to recall her poorwandering wits back from some region into which they had strayed.
"Him lalee!" cried the Chinaman, overjoyed at the prospect of gettinghis money. "Pletty speak, I knowee him. Lalee want clo?"
"Not to-night. The lady is sick; see, she can hardly stand." Andoverjoyed at this seeming evidence that the police had failed to getwind of my interest in this place, I slipped a coin into the Chinaman'shand, and drew Miss Oliver away towards the carriage I now saw drawingup before the shop.
Lena's eyes when she came up to help me were a sight to see. Theyseemed to ask who this girl was and what I was going to do with her. Ianswered the look by a very brief and evidently wholly unexpectedexplanation.
"This is your cousin who ran away," I remarked. "Don't you recognizeher?"
Lena gave me up then and there; but she accepted my explanation, andeven lied in her desire to carry out my whim.
"Yes, ma'am," said she, "and glad I am to see her again." And with adeft push here and a gentle pull there, she succeeded in getting thesick woman into the carriage.
The crowd, which had considerably increased by this time, was beginningto flock about us with shouts of no little derision. Escaping it as bestI could, I took my seat by the poor girl's side, and bade Lena give theorder for home. When we left the curb-stone behind, I felt that the lastpage in my adventures as an amateur detective had closed.
But I counted without my cost. Miss Oliver, who was in an advanced stageof fever, lay like a dead weight on my shoulder during the drive downthe avenue, but when we entered the Park and drew near my house, shebegan to show such signs of violent agitation that it was withdifficulty that the united efforts of Lena and myself could prevent herfrom throwing herself out of the carriage door which she had somehowmanaged to open.
As the carriage stopped she grew worse, and though she made no furtherefforts to leave it, I found her present impulses even harder to contendwith than the former. For now she would not be pushed out or draggedout, but crouched back moaning and struggling, her eyes fixed on thestoop, which is not unlike that of the adjoining house; till with asudden realization that the cause of her terror lay in her fear ofre-entering the scene of her late terrifying experiences, I bade thecoachman drive on, and reluctantly, I own, carried her back to the houseshe had left in the morning.
And this is how I came to spend a second night in Miss Althorpe'shospitable mansion.