“He is a peculiar man.”
“And so am I.”
I felt myself slightly nonplussed; and, conscious of appearing at a disadvantage, lifted my hat from the table and prepared to take my leave; but, suddenly thinking of Hannah, turned and asked if there was any news of her.
He seemed to debate with himself, hesitating so long that I began to doubt if this man intended to confide in me, after all, when suddenly he brought his two hands down before him and exclaimed vehemently:
“The evil one himself is in this business! If the earth had opened and swallowed up this girl, she couldn’t have more effectually disappeared.”
I experienced a sinking of the heart. Eleanore had said: “Hannah can do nothing for me.” Could it be that the girl was indeed gone, and forever?
“I have innumerable agents at work, to say nothing of the general public; and yet not so much as a whisper has come to me in regard to her whereabouts or situation. I am only afraid we shall find her floating in the river some fine morning, without a confession in her pocket.”
“Everything hangs upon that girl’s testimony,” I remarked.
He gave a short grunt. “What does Miss Leavenworth say about it?”
“That the girl cannot help her.”