Anne was called. She thought Miss Durrant had gone out a little after five. She could not say exactly.
"There is not a moment to be lost. She must be found to-night," said he, as the servant withdrew.
"It would be well she was found to-night," said Miss Traynor mechanically. She did not seem to know what his words meant--of whom he was speaking. After a moment's pause, she added: "I think she will come back to-night, for she did not even take a shawl with her; and you know, Charlie, it will be very cold soon, won't it?"
He was greatly shocked at this speech. She had never called him Charlie before, and what she said about the shawl plainly showed her mind was unhinged. It was obvious to him that he could do no good by staying. Without saying another word, beyond a formal "Good-bye for the present; I may see you later on," he rose, and went to the door.
"Any time you come I will see you," said the poor invalid quietly, "for I intend waiting up until my child comes home. I think we ought to have a fire for her when she comes in; you know, Charlie, she did not take even a shawl with her, and a place always looks twice more like home when there's a fire in the room we love best."
As he was going out he called Anne, and told her to remain in the room with her mistress until he returned.
"If Miss Traynor refuses to go to bed, as I fear she will, you must sleep in a chair. I'll be back as soon as ever I can. I have a cab at the door. I'll leave it there; and if you want a doctor, or anything else, you can send the cab."
Then he hurried out, told the cabman to wait at the disposal of the servant, and walked off in search of another. He sprang into a hansom, and gave the order--"Scotland Yard."
He did not remain long in the Yard. Once more jumping into the hansom, he drove to Charing Cross, and entered a court, where he remained a short time. Then he went to Finsbury Square. He drove to a few other places that night, and at twelve o'clock he dismissed the hansom in Piccadilly.
"I do not know what more I can do to-night. The police and every inquiry-office in London are on the alert now. It is too late for the morning papers. What else can I do? Nothing, as far as I can see, but go back and see how the poor old lady is. There will be no news for a few hours, at the earliest."