“I don’t know, my son,” replied his father quietly, though he stood staggered at the amazing story.
Then he added:
“The police searched Welling Wood and all the neighbouring copses three days after you had disappeared, but found no trace of you.”
“But surely they found the poor girl, father?” cried Roddy, raising himself upon his arm.
“No, my boy, nobody was found,” he replied. “That’s strange!” exclaimed the young man. “Then she must have been taken away with me! But by whom? What devil’s work was there in progress that night, father?”
“Ah! my boy. That I cannot tell!”
“But I mean to ascertain!” cried the young man fiercely. “That girl appealed to me to save her, and she died in my arms. Where is she? And why should I be attacked and drugged so that I nearly became insane? Why? Perhaps it was because I had accidentally discovered the crime!”