“Don’t worry too much,” said the squire. “We shall hear of Harry yet. To-morrow I will go to the city again. If it will be any satisfaction to you, I will invite you to accompany me.”
“I will go,” said the poor mother. “It will be better than staying at home. I shall feel that I am doing something to find my lost Harry. You are very kind to invite me.”
“Don’t mention it,” said the squire. “I will call round in the morning, and carry you to the depot in my carriage.”
“I will be ready.”
The next day, therefore, Squire Turner, accompanied by Mrs. Raymond, went to New York. They went round to the office in Nassau Street, but, as may be expected, learned nothing in addition to the facts previously gathered. Next, they went to the office of the Superintendent of Police, but learned nothing definite beyond this, that Lemuel Fairchild, instead of being a responsible business-man, was a needy adventurer. He had disappeared from the city, and thus far the police had been unable to trace him. What intention he could have had in pretending to be a commission merchant, and, above all, what could have induced him to send for Harry, was a mystery which it seemed difficult to explain. The superintendent promised to pursue his inquiries, and to endeavor to obtain information concerning Harry and his employer,—both of whom had strangely disappeared. With this they were obliged to be content, unsatisfactory as it was.
With a heavy heart Mrs. Raymond made her homeward journey. Thus far she had thought only of the personal grief she had suffered in the loss of Harry. But another consideration very soon forced itself upon her mind. In losing Harry, she had lost her main support. How was she to sustain herself and little Katy? Already the small amount of ready money which her husband had left behind him was exhausted, and as yet she knew of no way of earning more. It was Squire Turner who first opened the subject to her.
“I have no doubt,” he said, “that Harry will return after a while, and explain his absence in a satisfactory manner. But, meanwhile, you will, of course, suffer inconvenience from the loss of his wages. Have you thought of any plan?”
“No,” she answered, wearily. “I have no pleasure in living, now that my husband and son are gone.”
“You must live for the sake of little Katy, and for the sake of Harry, who will return some day.”