She looked up suddenly as a wild joy flashed over her face, for she had sprung to a too natural conclusion.
“Oh, Dick, you have found him! You have found my boy! Oh, tell me so at once! Oh, don’t try to break such news to me as that is! Joyful news may be told at once! it never kills! And now you see I know you have found my baby! Oh, bring him to me at once! Where is he? In my room?”
She had spoken rapidly and breathlessly, and now she started up to hurry to her chamber, expecting to find her child there.
Dick gently stopped her.
“Dear Drusilla, I have not got your child. I wish I had,” he began, with his hand on her arm.
The look of joy vanished from her face. It had been but a lightning flash across the night of her sorrow, and now it had passed and left the darkness still there.
“Oh, Dick!” she groaned, covering her face with her hands and sinking again into her seat.
“But, Drusilla, dear, I have a clue to him! I have indeed! And I know that he is alive and well and cheerful.”
“Oh, Dick, is this so? Oh, Dick, I know you wouldn’t deceive me, even for my own comfort, would you now, Dick?” she pleaded.
“Heaven knows I would not, Drusilla. Your child was alive and well at five o’clock this afternoon—only two hours ago, for it is now only seven. And though you cannot now find him in your chamber, you need not be surprised at any future hour to find him there.”