“It’s lucky you know the hotel your people are staying at in Venice,” she said; “and now go quietly to sleep, for you’ve done all you can. But I doubt me if your poor father is sleeping much.”
“Or Snippy,” said Flo.
“Or Nan,” said Patty. “We’ve got to do the sleeping for all the family, to-night, Flo; so let’s get about it.”
Knowing she had done all she could in the matter, and thoroughly worn out with the journey and the after excitement, Patty turned on her pillow, and was soon sound asleep.
But far from sleep at that moment was Mr. Fairfield. The poor man was passing through an awful experience. As Patty had surmised, he had dropped asleep in the smoking-car, but he had dozed only for a few moments, and, of course, had no thought other than that his two young charges were in their cosy compartment, with the elderly and kind Italian couple.
Then, soon after leaving Bologna, and all unsuspecting that the train had been divided, he started to return to Patty and Flo, and found to his amazement that that car with several others had been disconnected at Bologna. Mr. Fairfield was stunned. He found an official who could talk fairly good English, and laid the case before him. But there was nothing to be done. Although a clever and resourceful man, Mr. Fairfield felt that his hands were tied. He knew Patty was on the train for Milan, but he could not guess at what station she would get off, if indeed she had not left the train at Bologna.
For the moment his anxiety for the girls’ safety was lost in an endeavour to think of some way to get into communication with them. There was nothing to be gained by getting off the train himself, and yet he hated to go on to Venice without them. But to return to Bologna would be a wild-goose chase, and, too, there was no train back for several hours. He felt sure that Patty would be brave and sensible, but he could not imagine what course she would pursue, and he well knew that real dangers beset the two lonely girls.
So he wrote telegrams which he put off to be sent at the next station. He sent one to Bologna, to be called out in the station, on the chance of Patty’s being there. He sent duplicates to Milan, and to every intervening station at which the train stopped. He felt little hope that any of these would really reach Patty, but he could think of no other plan. Had he been sure she would go through to Milan, he would have gone directly there himself, but so few and inconvenient were the trains that this plan was dismissed. And, too, he must go on to Venice, where Nan and Snippy were awaiting them.