I ran through the rooms, still vociferating, and still mocked by the echo of my own voice. They were silent and deserted. I was evidently the only living thing within the walls. At last, hoarse with shouting, I stood in silent despair, gazing on the destruction around. Marie and her relatives had disappeared, and the scene of ruin told a tale of violence.
For some moments all was still and quiet. At length, aroused by the sound of footsteps in the lower rooms, a sudden hope cheered me, and I hurried to meet them. A glance showed me I had deceived myself; a couple of Chinamen, with eyes and mouth wide open, gaping at the broken furniture, stood before me. I questioned them anxiously, trusting to gain some intelligence, but all to no purpose. To my inquiries they replied by stating that, having heard my hallooing, they had come to see what was the matter. Further questioning simply elicited, "Gno puh-shettah, gno puh-shettah" (I don't know, I don't know). Turning them out, I searched every nook and corner, but without avail. All my efforts were fruitless, no trace of anything that could enlighten me was apparent—not a vestige, not a clue, rewarded my long and anxious search.
All clothing and personal effects had been removed, and many light articles of furniture; the heavier ones were broken and overturned. It was impossible to tell what might have been destroyed or carried off by thieves after the house had been deserted.
At last I was compelled to confess to myself that further search was hopeless; I had searched diligently, and could discover nothing. Sorrowfully I turned away from the house, and proceeded to several Chinese dwellings in the neighbourhood; but at each received the unsatisfactory answer, "Puh-shettah, puh-shettah."
Taking my interpreter with me, I called at many houses, but without success; not the slightest information could I gather; the whole affair remained a profound and impenetrable mystery. Everything led me to believe some violent act had been perpetrated; besides, I was quite certain that Marie would never have gone away willingly without first communicating with me.
One evening when in my cabin, tired out with the day's useless searching, and absorbed with bitter reflections, an old friend of mine, Captain L., erstwhile of the Turkish Contingent, came on board to see me, having just arrived from Hankow. After I had related the mysterious disappearance of Marie, L. suddenly jumped from his seat with a loud exclamation, and, questioning me a little further, declared he had obtained a clue as to her destination.
It appeared that, while on his passage from Chin-kiang, the steamer had passed close to a large Portuguese lorcha, and he had just caught a glimpse of a girl on deck, of whom he then took no further notice, but who he now felt sure was Marie.
I felt overjoyed at the discovery. L., my friend, had called with me at Marie's relatives' several times, so I had every confidence that his opinion was correct, and I determined to follow the trail so singularly found. He declared he would accompany me, and kindly professed his readiness to start at once.
Early in the morning I went ashore to the owners of the schooner, and gave up the command to a friend. Philip, the mate, preferred joining me; he had served in the Greek insurrection against the Turks, and was a fine brave fellow.
Fortunately one of the river steamers—at that time few and far between—was to leave Shanghae in the afternoon, so it was just possible I might reach Chin-kiang before the lorcha's arrival, though that would depend entirely upon the winds she had experienced. Accordingly, a few minutes before the bell rang, the whistle blew, and the skipper gave the hoarse command to "cast off." L., Philip, and myself, made our way on board the Yang-tze (named after the river) with our baggage. We each took an ample supply of everything, as it would be necessary, in case the lorcha should have left Chin-kiang previous to our arrival, either to purchase or hire a vessel of some description to follow her. During the passage to Chin-kiang, we kept a regular watch the whole time, one or the other of us never leaving the deck, but, telescope in hand, keeping a sharp look-out. Heavily hung the time, until we made Silver Island ahead. I had put every possible interpretation upon Marie's presence—if, indeed, it were she—on board the lorcha. I had adopted every imaginable theory, but all to no purpose; the same idea would not remain five minutes, and I was forced to give up the mystery as unfathomable. Silver Island now hove in sight, and with my friends I waited impatiently on deck, and scanned the vessels in port, until, steaming slowly through the scanty shipping, we came to an anchor; but, although several lorchas were there, my friend did not recognize the one we sought for.