So his brain reasoned, but back of this was the throbbing ache that would not listen to reason. He wanted her again within his arms; he wanted again to look into her dark eyes, to feel again the warmth of her breath against his neck. He wanted, too, the sense of protecting and caring for her. He had meant to do so much; to find a comfortable lodging place for her until he could take her back; to forage food and clothing for her. A hundred things unsaid whirled 216 about in his brain; a hundred plans unfulfilled mocked him; a hundred needs unsatisfied. For a few precious moments he had held her in his arms,––a few moments when he craved years, and then he had lost her. Perhaps there was still a chance. His own head was too confused to form a plan at present. He determined to return to the palace and seek Stubbs.
With the aid of two of Otaballo’s lieutenants he was able to locate Stubbs, who was assisting the General in an attempt to bring the mercenaries into some sort of order. These men finally worn out, he had succeeded in enticing into one of the big rooms where he had calmly turned the lock upon them. Wilson greeted Stubbs with the single exclamation:
“They’ve gone again.”
“What––the girl?”
“Gone,” groaned Wilson. “But within the hour. I want you to help me find them.”
“Like huntin’ fer a loose dory in th’ dark, ain’t it?”
“Yes, but you’d hunt even for your dory, wouldn’t you?”
“Right, m’ boy, an’ I ain’t suggestin’ thet yer change yer course, only––these seas are uncharted fer me. But how’d she git outern yer hands once yer had her?”
“Oh, I was a fool, Stubbs. I thought she would sleep until night, and so came over here to let you know where I was. That would have been all right if I hadn’t stayed, but the Queen came and––she told you about Danbury?”