In a very few minutes the lawyer returned, and standing in his former position before the carriage door, made his second report, from the ticket clerk and the railway porter:
“A gentleman answering the description of Hanson had come in a close carriage just before the 1:30 P.M. train for Baltimore was due. He had taken tickets and engaged a compartment for himself and a little child, who seemed to be sick or sleeping, for he carried her very carefully and tenderly in his arms.”
That was all the employes of the depot could tell.
“Now, you see, he must have chloroformed, or in some other manner drugged and stupefied that unfortunate child, in order to get off with her. He is certainly a most prominent candidate for an election, by a jury of his countrymen, to the penitentiary,” said Mr. Merritt.
Roma was very pale and silent.
The old parson looked from the lawyer to the lady, but said nothing.
“Well, he has got off with the child. But we can telegraph—we can telegraph to the police at Baltimore to arrest him at the depot. And that will be likely to end his career in the State prison. How a man of his intelligence could so recklessly put himself in the power of the law is an act of madness I cannot understand. But I will telegraph at once,” concluded the lawyer, turning from the carriage door to re-enter the depot.
“No,” said Roma, speaking for the first time. “Do not telegraph. He has not put himself in the power of the law. I only wished to ascertain whether Hanson was the man who carried off the child. Now I have done so, I see that I cannot interfere. Let us go home.”
“My dear Roma!” exclaimed the astonished lawyer, “is it possible that you do not know that this scoundrel has committed a felony in the abduction of your ward, for which you can send him to the State prison?”
“Oh, no; we could not convict him of any crime in this case.”