“Come out, and walk with me; I wish to ask you about it.”
“But it is pouring rain, and you have been ill. You are so still. Let us go into some unoccupied private parlor and have coffee ordered there. You will need it.”
“Just as you please, Dick.”
Hammond beckoned a waiter to show them to a private room: and, when they had reached it, he ordered breakfast for two to be brought there.
“Now tell me of her. How is she? How does she bear this heavy sorrow?” inquired Alexander, as soon as the waiter had left the room.
“Badly enough. She scarcely ever eats or sleeps. She is wasted to a shadow. She is dying—she will die, unless the child is restored,” answered Dick.
“The child shall be restored, if he is above ground!” said Alick, bringing his fist down heavily upon the table.
Dick shook his head, and sighed.
“I tell you he shall. I arose from my death-bed to seek for him, and find him, and bring him to his mother—and I will do it!”
“Will you go to her and tell her that?” said Dick, solemnly.