"No, my dear; I won't injure you," said Fortune; "but I must know this: When was it they ran away?"
"Three nights ago, madam; and Ben Holt, he's fairly wild at losing the girl. He doesn't think anything at all about the boy, but the little girl—why, she won us all, she was so plucky and fearless. But they ran away three nights back, and no one knows where they are."
"Don't keep me," said Fortune. "I'm much obliged to you; but don't keep me now."
She left the field where the tent was, and began to walk rapidly down the lane.
"Now, am I an American or am I not?" she thought. "Do I, or do I not, want the police to interfere in this matter? Do I, or do I not, want to find those children my very own self? They were here three nights ago, and they have run away. What can be the meaning of it?"
Fortune pressed her hand to her forehead.
"Well, if there's one thing more evident than another." she muttered after a pause, "it's this: I must not leave Madersley at present. I'll just go to the hotel and tell Mr. Dolman that I am on the trail, and that not all the coaxing and all the worriting in the world will get me off it until I have found those children."
No sooner had this resolve formed itself in Fortune's stalwart mind than she hailed a fly and desired the man to drive her to the Madersley Arms. When she reached the big hotel she was shown at once into Mr. Dolman's presence.
"Now, sir," she said; "I hope you have all had a good tea and enjoyed it."
"Very much, thank you," replied Uncle William, who really, if the truth must be known, was having quite a delightful time—no Aunt Jane to pull him up, no sermons to write, and a vast amount of variety to occupy his mind. "We have enjoyed our tea, all of us," he said; "and now, Fortune, would not you like a cup? Iris, my dear, we'll ring the bell for some more hot water."