Johnny, in as few words as he could, then detailed the whole circumstance.
"Not a moment must be lost! I am glad you thought proper to consult me. Come along, my little man; I am very sorry for your father."
With these words he walked in his usual dignified manner to Mr. Ravensworth's. Here he found the father in a state bordering almost on frenzy.
"My daughter!" cried the hapless parent, "my daughter! where have they taken her to? Oh, Ellen! my child—my beautiful—my darling!"
"Be calm," Mr. Lennox said; "remember to bear is to conquer our fate."
"Talk not to me of calmness; tell the apathetic Stoic to bear his fate. Oh, Mr. Lennox! you a father, and talk so! Oh, my child! my poor child! where have they borne you to?—take me to my child!"
"We had better at once proceed to Edinburgh: the Sheriff is my personal friend. Is your carriage still here?—yes, that will do; the children had better stay here."
"No, no, they will take them next!—let them come. Johnny—Maude darling, do not cry so; we will go and find your sister."
With these words they all four speedily took possession of the carriage; and it needed no words to make the coachman drive fast. During the whole way Mr. Ravensworth wept like a child. It is a terrible thing to hear a strong man weep; a woman or a child weeping are every-day events, not so a man—one who has past through suffering often, and stoically borne it, and yet gives way at last like a child. Johnny cried too, and little Maude all the way; and even Mr. Lennox caught the weakness, and felt his eyes suffuse with tears more than once, though he thought it undignified in the extreme.
When they reached the Sheriff's house, Mr. Lennox sent in his card, and said they had come on a matter of vast importance. The Sheriff, Mr. Murray, was a fine-looking, portly gentleman, of about sixty; he was evidently no foe to good living, as his corpulence, jolly expression of face, double chin, and certainly more than red nose, betrayed; his hair was snow white, which contrasted well with his florid face, and a merry twinkle in his grey eye showed him a lover of the bottle, and its boon-fellow, wit. He was sitting over his wine when the two gentlemen were introduced, and was apparently not altogether pleased at the interruption. However, he showed that he was quite ready for business, by putting on his gold spectacles, and taking a pencil and paper to make notes. Then ordering a couple more glasses, he begged to hear the case.