“Girl, how came this child in your possession?” he said, sternly.
“Oh, sir!” exclaimed Adele, with eagerness, “do you know to whom she belongs?”
“Maddy! Maddy! Wake up, dear! Wake up!” said the old man, turning from the girl without replying. “What ails her? What is the meaning of this strange sleep?” He addressed Adele again.
“If she belongs to you or yours,” said Adele, “take her home as quickly as possible. I have done my part in rescuing the dove from the hawk,—the lamb from the wolf.”
Uncle John Fleetwood, whom the reader has recognised, needed no further prompting. He had a carriage called quietly, and, taking into it both Adele and his recovered niece, was driven rapidly to the residence of Mr. Dainty. On the way he gained such information as Adele permitted him to glean. It was not by any means satisfactory.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE ARREST.
“Found! Found!” The words rang through the house as Uncle John entered, bearing Madeline in his arms. Her rescuer followed with noiseless footsteps and gliding motions.
Responsive cries of joy and the noise of rapid feet were heard from all parts of Mr. Dainty’s dwelling; and by the time Mr. Fleetwood reached the mother’s room an eager crowd surrounded him. Tenderly laying Madeline upon the bed, he exposed her pale, sad-looking countenance to view, the sight of which flooded every face with tears.
“Where is the girl?” he asked, imperatively.
“I am here.” And Adele moved toward the bed