DISAPPEARANCE OF MADELINE.
The danger which threatened Madeline had suddenly taken on a new and
more alarming aspect. With the removal of Mrs. Jeckyl from the house of
Mr. Dainty, it was believed that all direct influence had ceased, and
that whatever of evil she had wrought upon the child would gradually
lose its power over her as time progressed. But the enemy had not left
the field; there was only a change of position.
The detail by Agnes, in an excited manner, of what had occurred in the
City Square, sent through all hearts a thrill of fear. In the family
council, Mr. Dainty talked indignantly of the police and arrest, while
Mr. Fleetwood, for the most part silent, walked the floor with uneasy
footsteps.
“I shall not dare to let Madeline pass our own threshold,” said Mrs.
Dainty, in a troubled voice, “though she is dying for change of air and
change of scene. Oh, isn’t it dreadful!”
“The woman must be arrested,” Mr. Dainty announced, for the tenth
time,—the only remedy he had to suggest.
“What good?” inquired Uncle John.
“We will have her bound over to keep the peace,” said Mr. Dainty.
Uncle John shook his head as he answered, “You cannot bind the
influence of her evil eye. It may fall upon our precious one at any
moment least expected, and in spite of all law or police. The danger
comes from a new direction, and is too subtle in its nature to be
restrained by common bonds.”
“What then are we to do?” asked Mrs. Dainty, wringing her hands in a
distressed manner.
But no one ventured a reply to her question.
After a long and troubled session, the family council broke up, without
having arrived at any satisfactory result beyond the common conclusion
that it would not be safe to let Madeline, in her present state, go
out, and thus be in danger of meeting the strange woman who had thrown
so fearful a spell over her young spirit.
Singularly enough, the child, from this time, showed a restless desire
to get away from the house. Instead of creeping into lonely rooms by
herself, she would seek the front windows and door, and stand gazing
into the street, her eyes wandering up and down among the passengers,
as if in search of some one. When taken from the door or windows, she
would resist, and sometimes fall into passionate fits, that left her
in a strange stupor. Three times within a week she attempted to steal
away; and once she succeeded in getting off, but was met by her father,
who happened to be returning home, when only a few blocks distant. To
his inquiries as to where she was going, she replied, “To the Square.”
After a slight opposition, she concluded to go back with him, but was
moody and ill-natured for the rest of the day.
So it continued for weeks, with but little change for the better.
Mrs. Dainty’s fears were all the while excited, and she never felt
comfortable a moment when Madeline was away from her.
One day, in taking her usual after-dinner sleep, Mrs. Dainty was
visited by a frightful dream about Madeline, so vivid in its character
as to awaken her. Her first impulse, the moment bewildered thoughts ran
clear, was to seek for her child. “Madeline!” she called, going to her
chamber-door. For a moment or two she stood listening, then called, in
a louder voice, “Madeline! Madeline!”
“Madeline!” It was the voice of the oldest daughter, calling from the
library.
“Agnes, where is Madeline?”
“I do not know,” replied Agnes, coming toward her mother. “I heard
her and George up in the nursery not long ago. Perhaps she is there.
George!”
A pair of rapid feet responded noisily to the call.
“George, where is your sister?”
“Don’t know,” answered the boy.
“Isn’t she in the nursery?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I heard you and her talking there not long ago,” said Agnes.
“She went down-stairs for a piece of cake a good while ago.”
Agnes almost flew down to the kitchen, and inquired of the chambermaid,
whom she found there, if she had seen Madeline.
“I heard her come down-stairs a little while ago, and I think she went
into the parlor,” replied the chambermaid.
One of the parlor-shutters was found pushed open, the curtain drawn
aside, and a chair out of position.
“She has been here,” said Mrs. Dainty, in a choking whisper.
“Perhaps she has fallen asleep somewhere,” suggested a domestic.
“Search through the house, everywhere!” replied Mrs. Dainty. “Look into
all the rooms and closets! How could you lose sight of her?”
But they searched in vain. The child was not in the house!
“Where is Uncle John?” asked Mrs. Dainty, in her terror and
bewilderment.
Mr. Fleetwood entered from the street at the moment his name was
mentioned, and in no way lessened the anxious fears of his niece by his
troubled exclamations on learning that Madeline was nowhere to be found
in the house.
“I have trembled every day in fear of this!” said the old man, pacing
the floor in great agitation. “How could you leave her unguarded?”
Not long, however, did Mr. Fleetwood remain inactive. After sending
word to Mr. Dainty, and despatching servants in various directions to
search through all the neighborhood, he went out himself, and commenced
a series of close inquiries at all the stores and offices within
several squares.
“Had she curly hair?” inquired a boy who was buying something at one of
the stores visited by Mr. Fleetwood.
“Yes,” answered the old gentleman, with a sudden eagerness of manner.
“And wore a blue frock?”
“Yes.”
“Was bare-headed?”
“Yes.”
“I saw her going down the street a good while ago. An old woman,
dressed in black, had her.”
“Going down the street! Where?” asked Mr. Fleetwood, with increasing
excitement.
“By our house,” replied the boy.
“Where is your house?” demanded the old gentleman, in a voice that
startled not only the lad, but all the other inmates of the store.
“Round in Eager Street.”
“Which way did you say they were going?”
“Toward Fifth Street.”
“I’ll give you ten dollars if you’ll find them!” said Mr. Fleetwood.
“Will you?” And the lad dropped his package on the counter and started
for the door.
“Ten dollars?” He paused for reassurance.
“Yes,—ten gold dollars. Now move on their track like lightning! But
stay! You are to report yourself at my house, the number of which is on
this card. Let us hear from you speedily. Now, away!”
The boy disappeared from the door and went flying down the street.
Still pursuing his inquiries, Mr. Fleetwood met with others who
confirmed the boy’s statement that a child, resembling Madeline, had
been seen in company with an old woman dressed in black. This caused
him to visit the Chief of Police and secure his efficient aid in the
matter, thus putting in operation the most vigilant means of discovery.
It was nearly an hour after Mr. Fleetwood left the house, when,
disappointed in any good result, he returned to the anxious, frightened
family, to meet pale, tearful faces and trembling inquiry. Mr. Dainty
and the servants had also been in search of the lost one, but their
search had proved quite as fruitless. The boy who had hoped to gain the
reward of ten dollars had likewise reported himself. He had spent an
hour in vain.
Night came down upon the fearfully-disturbed inmates of Mr. Dainty’s
family, and yet Madeline was absent. Nothing whatever could be learned
in regard to her, except the single fact mentioned by the boy, and
confirmed by others, that a little girl resembling her had been seen in
company with an old woman dressed in black.