The keen-eyed chef de la sûreté threw himself into the pursuit with all the energy of his nature, all the professional pride that a high reputation could inspire. There was not a town of any importance in Europe where his researches did not penetrate, and yet the days rolled on, and not a trace was to be found of the missing girl. For some reasons unknown very little was said of the occurrence in the newspapers. The police, always powerful in France, were especially potent in the later days of the Empire. One or two journals mentioned the mysterious disappearance of a young lady, and the matter was dropped.
To Glynn the terrible darkness, which seemed closing in deeper and deeper with each succeeding day over the fate of the fair girl he had learned to love so passionately, was appalling. He chafed against his own hopelessness, he exhausted himself in conjectures and restless going to and fro.
When Lambert came back from his fruitless journey to Marseilles, he seemed sunk in a strange, sullen apathy, nor did he accept Glynn's well-meant efforts to comfort and sustain him with cordiality. He declared his intention of remaining in Paris as the place where the earliest tidings of his missing daughter were most likely to reach him. He had already given notice of his intention to leave his apartments, and now dismissed Madame Weber and the bonne.
"I do not know where I may have to go, or what I may have to do," he said to Glynn. "I'll hang on here till my time is up, and then I'll take a room somewhere and just wait. You are very good, Glynn; you could have done no more if you had been my poor darling's affianced lover. I little knew you were a rich man, and partner in a great firm, when I offered you her poor little portion."
"Do not speak of it," said Glynn, with inexpressible emotion; "but treat me as a trusted friend. Tell me what conjectures you have formed as to her fate."
"I believe she is dead," said Lambert in a broken voice, and covering his face. "Had she been in life she would have managed to communicate with me. Now I have nothing left to live for but revenge."
"Have you any idea where to direct your vengeance?"
"I cannot answer yes or no yet, though if I'd answer any one it would be you, Glynn."
"That means 'Yes,'" returned Glynn.
Lambert did not reply. He seemed sunk in gloomy, hard resignation to a detested destiny. "You shouldn't wait on here, Glynn," he resumed, after a minute's silence. "You can do no good,—as they didn't find her within the first week it will just be a waiting race. We'll hit on the truth just by accident, that will be the way of it."