Missy: A Novel

by Miriam Coles Harris

"It means Alphonsine," cried Missy, leaning against the door for support. "It means revenge and a reward. The boat we watched last night—the sounds I heard in the night—ah, ah, don't let us waste a moment. It was two o'clock when I heard the sound of oars—it is seven now—and a good breeze blowing. Oh, my poor little Jay, where have they got you by this time!"

"You suspect that woman," said the father, "that I sent away last autumn? But what motive—what provocation—what could have prompted such an act? I confess I cannot follow you—"

"Believe me, and don't waste a moment," cried Missy. "Rouse the village, ring the bells, get out your boat, send for the Roncevalles, telegraph to town to the police. The Roncevalles will take their yacht, she came in yesterday—you know she's fast. Why do you look so doubtful? Mr. Andrews, I love him as well as you do. I am sorry for you, but I shall hate you if you are not quick. Every moment that you doubt me is a moment lost. Jay is in the hands of wicked people. You will never see him again, if you are not prompt. Those creatures have stolen him—they will board some French ship outward bound; don't look for motive—they know you have money—they want revenge for being sent away. Oh, my little boy! What have I brought upon you!"

And with a burst of tears, Missy hid her face. The poor man groaned and turned away. He walked to the door and back, as if trying to steady his brain and to think.

Missy recovered herself in a moment, and making a step forward, with a passionate gesture of the hands, "Do something," she cried. "Do not, do not waste a moment."

Then, seeing he still had not admitted her theory, but was weighing it with a troubled mind, she exclaimed, "Send in a hundred different directions if you will, but send my way first. You have no other plan follow mine till something better comes before you; it is better to be doing something than nothing."

"You are right," he said, with sudden resolution, starting towards the library door—"Send a woman over to Captain Perkins; tell Michael to saddle Jenny."

From that moment there was no lack of speed in carrying on the search. In half an hour, the bells were ringing in the village steeples; the telegraph wire was talking hotly into the Police Headquarters of the city; men and boys were swarming on the beach. The good yacht Ilia, which had loafed in yesterday, with no intention but to spend a few hours in harbor, was ready at a moment's warning. In a hasty conclave of half a dozen gentlemen, it had been decided that Miss Rothermel's suspicions were quite worth acting upon, faute de mieux. There were others who had seen the mysterious little craft; and one man who had come upon a foreign-looking group encamped upon a lonely point of the Neck, the day before. There were two men and a woman in the party, and they had evidently shunned observation. There were foot-marks upon the sand, a little below the Andrews' boat-house, and a track that the keel of a boat had made when pushed off, in the falling tide. It was more than probable that the child had been stolen with a view to the largest reward, and that the matter had been well arranged; and Miss Rothermel's idea, that out on the Sound some homeward-bound French ship was expected to come along, which would take them on board, and put them beyond reach of pursuit for many weeks at least, found favor. There was, of course, a possibility of their having failed to meet their ship, or of their not having such a plan; and all the neighborhood of the Necks, and the shores along the Sound must be instantly searched; it was even possible that their plan had been to secrete him in the city. Jay had been a well-known and rather favorite little person in the neighborhood—Mr. Andrews was understood to be rich—the people were naturally kind-hearted—the occurrence was quite beyond the ordinary; in short, it was a day unparalleled in Yellowcoats for excited feeling. Men were scouring the woods on horseback and on foot, and patrolling the shores in boats; mothers were leaving, equally, wash-tubs and piano-fortes, to hug closer their own children and mourn over the dangers of poor Jay, and listen for the latest news. People drove aimlessly about from house to house; all day long there were groups on the steamboat wharf, and along the shore that led to Mr. Andrews' house; the telegraph office was besieged. Little work was done. I almost think there was no dinner cooked in more houses than the Andrews' and the Varians'.

When the Ilia sailed gallantly out of the mouth of the harbor, the foremost and fastest of all the pursuing craft, people cheered and wept, and prayed for the continuance of the stiff breeze that had been blowing since day-break. But the stiff breeze was a two-edged sword that cut both ways; while it helped the pursuers, it helped the pursued.

At first, it was decided Mr. Andrews should not go on the yacht, but should be on the spot to direct, and order the search in different quarters. A hastily sworn-in officer was taken on board, and several gentlemen who had full authority to act for him. But when the last boat load was about to push off, a certain fierce impatience seemed to seize him. He had taken up Missy's theory, it seemed, at last, and felt that he could not let them go without him. He signalled them to wait, and hurried across the lawn to Missy, who stood with a rigid face, watching the vessel's sails filling with the breeze.