How the name, uttered so sadly, and yet with such moving tenderness by the mother's lips, caused me to start—almost to tremble.
"If he is in the house, ma'am," said I, firmly, "I will see him for you." And I left her and went into the bar.
"In what room do you think I will find young Hammond?" I asked of the bar-keeper. He looked at me curiously, but did not answer. The question had come upon him unanticipated.
"In Harvey Green's room?" I pursued.
"I don't know, I am sure. He isn't in the house to my knowledge. I saw him go out about half an hour since."
"Green's room is No.——?"
"Eleven," he answered.
"In the front part of the house?"
"Yes."
I asked no further question, but went to No. 11, and tapped on the door. But no one answered the summons. I listened, but could not distinguish the slightest sound within. Again I knocked; but louder. If my ears did not deceive me, the chink of coin was heard. Still there was neither voice nor movement.