ON THE TRAIL.
It was on the very evening that Orion and Diana had left the great
circus that Uncle William and the two children arrived at Delaney
Manor, for Delaney Manor was only five miles distant from the
prosperous seaside town of Madersley.
Now, Uncle Ben had very little idea, when he brought the two children
to the southwest of England, that he was really taking them back to
their native country. These things, however, are ordered, and the
wisest man in the world cannot go against the leadings of Providence.
Uncle Ben thought to hide the children from their best friends,
whereas, in reality, he was taking them home once more.
But two little circus children might wander about at their own sweet
will at Madersley, and be heard nothing whatever of at Delaney Manor,
and these little children might never have been found, and this story
might have had a totally different ending, but for Fortune.
When Fortune, however, lay down on her mattress by Iris' side, she
thought a great deal before she went to sleep. She thought, as she
expressed it to herself, all round the subject, to the right of it,
and to the left of it. She thought of it in its breadth, and she
thought of it in its height, and, having finally settled the matter to
her own satisfaction, she went to sleep, and soothed little Iris with
the comforting music of her snores.
On the following morning she had an interview with Mr. Dolman.
"I want to ask you a straight question, sir," she said. "What is it
the police are doing? It seems a mighty strange thing to me that two
little children should be lost in the middle of a civilized country
like England."
"It seems a stranger thing to me," replied Uncle William. "I am
dreadfully puzzled over the whole matter. We have now four detectives
at work, but up to the present they have not got the slightest clew to
the children's whereabouts."
"As like as not," said Fortune, "these two have been stolen by
gypsies."
"We thought of that at once," said Uncle William.
"Yes," interrupted Fortune, "and then, when you couldn't make the
thing fit, or find your clew, you dropped it. Now let me tell you,
sir, that aint our way in America. When we get the faintest ghost of a
clew we cling on to it as if it were grim death, and we don't let it
go, not for nobody. It's my belief that gypsies are at the bottom of
the matter, and why have not you and your detectives looked in every
gypsy encampment in the length and breadth of England?"
"There were some gypsies in our neighborhood, only we did not know it
the first day," continued Mr. Dolman, "and their camp was of course
thoroughly examined, but no little people in the least resembling the
children were found there."
"Then of course it goes without saying," continued Fortune, "that the
gypsies passed on the little dears to other folk. Now the question is,
What sort of folk would be interested in a little pair like them?
They was both young, both lissom, both handsome, and Miss Diana was
the bravest child I ever come across--maybe they was sold to someone
to train 'em to walk on the tight rope."
Uncle William smiled indulgently.
"The detectives would certainly have found that out by this time," he
said. "Besides, there were no traveling companies of any sort within a
radius of quite fifteen miles."
"Very well," said Fortune; "then, perhaps, sir, you'll allow me to
manage things my own way. I aint a detective, but I'm bent on
detective work for the time being. I'm going straight off to Madersley
this morning. I'm going to have descriptions of those children printed
in very big characters, and posted all over Madersley."
"And why specially all over Madersley?" asked Mr. Dolman.
"'Cos Madersley is, so to speak, their native town," answered Fortune.
"Why, there aint a person in Madersley who don't know Delaney Manor;
and strangers, when they come there, drive out to see Delaney Manor as
they would any other big place, and folks at this time of year travel
from far to stay at Madersley, because the place is bracing and the
coast good for bathing. So you see, Mr. Dolman, there'll be lots of
people who will read my descriptions, and when they read 'em they'll
begin to talk about the children, and there's no saying what may
happen."
"It doesn't sound a bad idea," said Mr. Dolman.
"Bad!" repeated Fortune. "It's a first-rate idea; it's an American
idea. In America we never let the grass grow under our feet. I'm off
to Madersley this minute to see after those posters. Why, we post up
everything in America, every single thing that is lost, let alone
children, and we do it in big type, as big as they make it, and we put
the posters on the walls, and wherever there's a scrap of available
space. By your leave, sir, I'm off to Madersley now."
Fortune was as good as her word. She not only went to Madersley and
interviewed some of the best printers in the place, but she also
visited the police station, and told the police to be on the lookout.
"For the two youngest little Delaneys are missing," she said, "and
found they must be, if heaven and earth are moved to accomplish the
job."
The superintendent of police remembered that he had already had notice
of two children being missing somewhere in the North of England, but
as he thought it extremely unlikely that such children would come to
the southwest, he had not troubled himself much about them. Fortune's
words, however, stimulated his zeal, and he promised to keep a sharp
lookout. The printer also was full of enthusiasm, and agreed to print
posters which should even satisfy Fortune. He certainly did his best;
and a day or two later flaming posters, in red and black ink, were
pasted up all over the little town. In these, Fortune had given a most
accurate description of little black-eyed Diana and Orion. Their ages
were mentioned, their sizes, the color also of their eyes and hair.
The immediate effect of these posters was to frighten Uncle Ben Holt
considerably. He had been in a dreadful rage when first he discovered
that Diana and Orion had taken him at his word and had decamped. He
had been very cruel to every member of the troupe, and in especial to
his poor wife. He vowed, and vowed, loudly, that he would not leave a
stone unturned to find the children, and he also informed his wife
that he would start off the following morning to acquaint the police
with the fact that two of his troupe were missing.
"Why," he said, "there's a fortune in that little gal; I must have the
little gal. I don't think nothing at all of the boy. She was quite the
most sperited little 'un I ever come across. Fact is, I would not lose
her for a fifty-pund note."
For two days Uncle Ben stormed, and the performances at the circus
went languidly; but when, on the third morning, he saw the posters
about the town, and when one happened to be pasted up exactly opposite
his own circus, he began to cool down and to change his mind.
"Where are you, Sarah?" he called out.
His wife flew to answer the fierce summons of her lord and master.
"I'm here, Ben," she answered.
"'I'm here, Ben,'" he retorted, mimicking her tone. "There you are,
Sarah, without the sperit of a mouse. Have you seen, or have you not,
what's up all over the town?"
"Yes, to be sure," replied Sarah Holt; "and it's a faithful
description of the children. Why, they are as like what that
description says of 'em as two peas, Ben."
"I'm not saying they aint," snapped Ben, in a very indignant voice;
"but what I do want to know is this--what's to be done if they are
found and we are discovered to have bought 'em? We had all our plans
arranged, and we have taken this field for a fortnight; but, bad as
the loss will be to ourselves, it'll be better than the perlice
discovering that we had anything to do with them children. The fact is
this, Sarah: I'm going to pack our traps and be off out of this,
to-night at the latest."
"Perhaps you are right, Ben," said the woman, in a very sad tone;
"only," she added, with a sigh, "if we are really going, may not I run
up to Delaney Manor and just give 'em a hint? It seems so dreadful to
me if anything should happen to them little kids, more particular to
little Diana, who was the mortal image of my Rachel who died."
"If you do anything of the kind I'll kill you," roared the man. "Do
you want to see me locked up in prison for kidnaping children? No; we
must be out of this to-night, and I must lose the ten pund I paid for
the use of the field."
By this time the news of the posters had spread not only through the
whole town, but amongst the members of Ben Holt's troupe. The men and
women in the troupe were all interested and excited, and whenever they
had a spare moment they used to run out to read the poster which
Fortune had been clever enough to dictate.
Meanwhile, that good woman herself was by no means idle.
"I have done something," she said to Iris, "and what I have done at
Madersley ought to have been done before now all over the length and
breadth of England. But now, Miss Iris, having put the posters up, it
doesn't mean that we are to be idle. We have got to do more. I have my
eye on that circus. They says it's a very pretty circus indeed, and
there are a lot of entertaining spectacles to be viewed there. Now,
what do you say to you and me and Mr. Dolman, if he likes to come, and
Master Apollo going this afternoon to see the performance?"
"I don't think I much care," answered Iris. "I don't seem to take any
interest in anything just now."
"Well, all the same, dear, I would like you to go. The best of us can
but take steps, and when we has taken the steps that Providence seems
to indicate, there's no use a-fretting ourselves into our graves.
Folks are coming to Madersley now from the length and breadth of
England, being such a pretty and such a favorite seaside resort. Let's
go to the circus this afternoon, Miss Iris, and see what is to be
seen."
Iris could not follow Fortune's reasonings, but she submitted to her
desire to pay a visit to the traveling circus, and, accordingly, that
afternoon, the very last of Holt's stay at Madersley, two other little
Delaneys entered the large tent and took their places in the front
row. The children were accompanied both by Uncle William and Fortune.
The curtain rose almost immediately after their entrance, and the
performance began.
For some reason or other it was sadly lacking in spirit, and a
neighbor who sat not far from Fortune began to remark on the fact.
"I wouldn't have paid three shillings for my seat if I had known the
thing was so poor," she said. "Why, my husband was here last week and
said it was downright splendid. But I suppose that was owing to the
performances of the children."
"The children?" inquired Fortune. "I see no children about."
"Oh, well, there were two the other night--a little girl and boy; and
they said the girl rode splendidly, and was the life of the whole
thing. She was simply wonderful; she----"
But here the curtain rose and the performance began anew. Fortune
longed to question her loquacious neighbor, but when she turned
presently to speak to her she found that she had left the tent.
"Ho, ho!" thought the American woman to herself; "they had a boy and a
girl here, had they, and they aren't here no longer. Now I wonder if I
can strike that trail? Being from America it would be hard if I
didn't, and also if I didn't succeed."