"WILL YOU BID ME GODSPEED."
"I reach into the dark, O Love!
I reach into the dark.
I cannot find thee; and my groping hands
Touch only memories and phantom shapes.
"I call into the dark, O Love!
I call into the dark.
There comes from out the hush above, below,
No answer but my own quick-fluttered breath."
Harry Hawthorne had sprung to his feet, pale with emotion, as he stood
before Cissy, repeating the words:
"With me? How strange! Why, I have not seen her since Christmas. Do not
tell me that harm has come to my darling!"
With the utterance of his words a terrible comprehension dawned on Mrs.
Fitzgerald.
She understood that she had been horribly deceived, that Geraldine had
not gone away to marry her lover, but had been entrapped into some
terrible fate.
The fear of Clifford Standish's vengeance for the scorn she had heaped
on him pierced her heart like a knife-thrust.
For two weeks Geraldine had been missing.
And no search had been made, because it was believed that she was safe
and happy with her heart's choice, Harry Hawthorne.
But, instead, she had become the victim of a terrible doom.
The horror of her apprehensions overcame the mother's heart, and she
fell forward in a heavy swoon.
When consciousness returned, she found herself lying flat on a couch,
with Cissy bathing her forehead, and Hawthorne her hands, with _eau de
cologne_.
She felt very weak and helpless, but as consciousness returned to her
she groaned despairingly.
Hawthorne gave her a look of tender sympathy, and said:
"Mrs. Fitzgerald, can you listen to me a few moments?"
His gentle voice and manly looks inclined her heart toward him in spite
of her prejudices against him, so she bowed her head affirmatively.
He went on:
"While we were trying to restore you to consciousness, Miss Carroll
has told me the circumstances of Geraldine's disappearance. That note
purporting to be from Geraldine was no doubt a forgery, and I fear she
has fallen into the power of Clifford Standish."
Mrs. Fitzgerald groaned. Cissy sobbed aloud, and although Hawthorne
would not permit himself to break down like a woman, his voice was very
husky as he proceeded:
"A few more words and I must leave you, to institute a search for our
missing darling. Will you bid me Godspeed?"
"Yes, oh, yes," and she held out her hand to him voluntarily.
When he took it he felt a warm, kindly pressure, and realized that in
their common loss and sorrow humanity had triumphed over pride, and
he could count on her as a true friend. Lord Putnam was momentarily
forgotten.
Releasing her hand, he added:
"You may wonder at my delay in seeking Geraldine, so I will briefly
explain: In the first place, when I found that the actor had abducted
her on Christmas evening, I followed on the next train to Chicago. Four
weary days I sought her, but all in vain. At length I met Standish one
cold snowy evening on an obscure street, and demanded Geraldine at
his hands. He assured me with such malice, that she was his willing
companion, that I sprang at the dastard's throat in fury, and he
stabbed me and ran off, leaving me for dead. Some kind Samaritans
rescued and took care of me, but I kept the name of my would-be
murderer a secret, for fear of drawing Geraldine's name into a scandal.
Well, just as I became convalescent, I received news of the death of a
very near relative that obliged my immediate return to New York. I sent
for a detective, confided my secrets to him, and employed him to search
for Geraldine in my absence. While I was away I received information
that Geraldine had discovered her long-lost mother, and was safe with
you. As this set my mind at rest about my betrothed, I paid and
dismissed my detective, and determined that as soon as I had settled
up some business matters I had on hand, I would return to Chicago and
ascertain whether Geraldine's heart had remained true to me in her
change of fortune, or if she would discard me for some richer lover.
I arrived to-day, and came here full of hope and love to meet--this
terrible tragedy of woe!"
He paused to steady his shaking voice, then added:
"But I believe I have a clew, and I shall follow it up. I go now to my
detective. He is very clever, and I am very sorry I dismissed him. I
feel sure he can help me to unravel this mystery."
The hope and courage in his voice inspired her to exclaim, eagerly:
"May Heaven help you--and bless you!"
"Thank you! Those words will inspire me to do my best."
He touched her hand with his lips, like a gallant knight, and bowing to
Cissy, left the room.
But while Mrs. Fitzgerald lay unconscious, he had said to the young
girl:
"Is there a governess in this house?"
"Yes, Miss Erroll."
"Has she ever carried on a flirtation with Standish?"
To his surprise, Cissy blushed, and stammered, replying:
"I should not like to answer that question unless you have very good
cause for asking it."
She was generously eager to shield the woman's past if she could
consistently do so.
But he answered, gravely:
"This must be considered a secret yet, but my detective wrote me that
Mr. Standish was carrying on a flirtation with this Miss Erroll. Can
she have been in collusion with him to kidnap Geraldine?"
"Good Heaven!" cried Cissy, paling at the awful suspicion that
presented itself. She saw that she must tell all she knew.
But at that moment Mrs. Fitzgerald showed signs of reviving, and Cissy
whispered, hurriedly:
"I can tell you all about Miss Erroll and Standish. They were lovers
long ago, but I do not know if they have met recently."
Then the lady opened her eyes, and the subject dropped.
But when Hawthorne was gone, the horror of his suggestion staid in
Cissy's mind, and she admitted to herself that it might be plausible.
For what if Standish, by threatening the woman with betrayal to her
employer, had forced her to help him in his nefarious plot?
Cissy was so excited and indignant that she was on the point of rushing
to Miss Erroll and taxing her with the crime.
But sober second thought restrained her.
She might frighten the woman, and cause her to run away out of reach.
She decided to leave it all to Hawthorne and the detective.
Meanwhile, she had enough on her hands to soothe the agonized mother,
who was almost frantic with grief over the mystery of her daughter's
fate.
She kept wringing her hands and sobbing:
"It is two long weeks since she disappeared. Oh, it is too late! too
late! for any one to save my poor child now!"
Cissy shuddered at all that the words implied, but she cried, bravely:
"Do not let us despair. Although Geraldine's whereabouts are unknown to
us, she is in the keeping of God, as she has always been, and surely He
will protect her. Let us hope and pray."
Gradually she infused some hope into the mother's heart, and presently
they knelt and prayed to God to restore Geraldine to their arms again.
Meanwhile, Hawthorne, as we will continue to call him for a little
while, hurried to the office of Norris, the wonderful Western detective.
He found the little man in, and after a hurried greeting, said:
"I have called again about that case of mine."
"Ah, you wish to begin another search for the girl; is that it? I
thought it strange you dropped it so suddenly when you got my report.
But perhaps you had received news some way of the girl?"
"I had; but, Norris, that was a terrible mistake of mine letting you
drop the case when you did. You were on the right track, though you did
not know it. I am almost hoping you kept on watching, out of curiosity,
after I paid and dismissed you. It will be worth much to you if you
did," anxiously.
"But I did not, I'm sorry to say; for directly after I got your check I
went off on a chase down South after some gold-brick swindlers. Fact
is, I just got back from Richmond yesterday, after a stay of three
weeks. But I ran the rascals down, though, after a very exciting chase.
Tell you all about it," bustled the little detective, importantly.
"No, I don't care about it now," Hawthorne cried, impatiently. "You
must hear my story first, for you must never pause now till that
missing girl is found--the girl who was right under your nose all the
time while you were watching the governess--Miss Fitzgerald, formerly
Geraldine Harding."
"You don't say! Tell me all about it, sir."
Hawthorne went rapidly over all he had to tell, and then Norris said:
"The governess helped him, as sure as you're born, Mr. Daly."