"Are you certain that you saw Jenny Lawson go on board the steamboat for New York to-day?" asked Mr. Lofton, when the neighbor appeared.
"Oh, yes, sir; it was her," replied the man.
"Did you speak to her?"
"I was going to, but she hurried past me without looking in my face."
"Had she anything with her?"
"There was a small bundle in her hand."
"Strange—strange—very strange," murmured the old man to himself. "What does it mean? Where can she have gone?"
"Did she say nothing about going away?"
"Nothing—nothing!"
Mr. Lofton's eyes fell to the floor, and he sat thinking for some moments.