"Somebody enticed her away, on her return from school this afternoon,"
said Claire. "Mr. Jasper said that he would have her; and my first and natural conclusion was that he had executed his threat. Oh, ma"am, if this be so, tell me, that my anxiety for the child"s safety may have rest. As it is, I am in the most painful uncertainty. If she is here, I will feel, at least"--
"Have I not told you that she is not here, and that I know nothing of her," said Mrs. Jasper, angrily, interrupting the young man. "This is insolent."
"How soon do you expect Mr. Jasper home?" inquired Claire.
"Not for several days," replied Mrs. Jasper.
"Days! Is he not in the city?"
"No, sir. He left town yesterday."
Claire struck his hands together in disappointment and grief. This confirmed to him the lady"s a.s.sertion that she knew nothing of f.a.n.n.y.
In that a.s.sertion she had uttered the truth.
Sadly disappointed, and in far deeper distress of mind than when he entered the house, Edward Claire retired. If Mr. Jasper left the city on the day previous, and his wife had, as he could not help believing, no knowledge whatever of f.a.n.n.y, then the more distressing inference was that she had been enticed away by some stranger.
On his way home, Claire called again at the store of Jasper. It occurred to him to ask there as to his absence from the city. The reply he received was in agreement with Mrs. Jasper"s a.s.sertion. He had left town on the previous day.
"Where has he gone?" he inquired.
"To Reading, I believe," was the answer.
"Will he return soon?"
"Not for several days, I believe."
With a heavy heart, Claire bent his way homeward. He cherished a faint hope that f.a.n.n.y might have returned. The hope was vain. Here he lingered but a short time. His next step was to give information to the police, and to furnish for all the morning papers an advertis.e.m.e.nt, detailing the circ.u.mstances attendant on the child"s abduction. This done, he again returned home, to console, the best he could, his afflicted wife, and to wait the developments of the succeeding day.
Utterly fruitless were all the means used by Claire to gain intelligence of the missing child. Two days went by, yet not the least clue to the mystery of her absence had been found. There was no response to the newspaper advertis.e.m.e.nts; and the police confessed themselves entirely at fault.
Exhausted by sleepless anxiety, broken in spirit by this distressing affliction, and almost despairing in regard to the absent one, Mr. and Mrs. Claire were seated alone, about an hour after dark on the evening of the third day, when the noise of rumbling wheels ceased before their door. Each bent an ear, involuntarily, to listen, and each started with an exclamation, as the bell rang with a sudden jerk.
Almost simultaneously, the noise of wheels was again heard, and a carriage rolled rapidly away. Two or three quick bounds brought Claire to the door, which he threw open.
"f.a.n.n.y!" he instantly exclaimed; and in the next moment the child was in his arms, clinging to him, and weeping for joy at her return.
With a wonderful calmness, Mrs. Claire received f.a.n.n.y from her husband, murmuring as she did so, in a subdued, yet deeply gratified voice--
"O, G.o.d! I thank thee!"
But this calmness in a little while gave way, and her overstrained, but now joyful feelings, poured themselves forth in tears.
Poor child! She too had suffered during these three never-to-be-forgotten days, and the marks of that suffering were sadly visible in her pale, grief-touched countenance.
To the earnest inquiries of her foster-parents, f.a.n.n.y could give no very satisfactory answer. She had no sooner left the square with the lady mentioned by little Edith, than she was hurried into a carriage, and driven off to the cars, where a man met them. This man, she said, spoke kindly to her, showed her his watch, and told her if she would be a good girl and not cry, he would take her home again. In the cars, they rode for a long time, until it grew dark; and still she said the cars kept going. After a while she fell asleep, and when she awoke it was morning, and she was lying on a bed. The same lady was with her, and, speaking kindly, told her not to be frightened--that n.o.body would hurt her, and that she should go home in a day or two.
"But I did nothing but cry," said the child, in her own simple way, as she related her story. "Then the lady scolded me, until I was frightened, and tried to keep back the tears all I could. But they would run down my cheeks. A good while after breakfast," continued f.a.n.n.y, "the man who had met us at the cars came in with another man.
They talked with the lady for a good while, looking at me as they spoke. Then they all came around me, and one of the men said--
""Don"t be frightened, my little dear. No one will do you any harm; and if you will be a right good girl, and do just as we want you to do, you shall go home to-morrow."
"I tried not to cry, but the tears came running down my face. Then the other man said sharply--
""Come now, my little lady, we can"t have any more of this! If you wish to go home again tomorrow, dry your tears at once. There! there!
Hush all them sobs. No one is going to do you any harm."
"I was so frightened at the way the man looked and talked, that I stopped crying at once.
""There!" said he, "that is something like. Now," speaking to the lady, "put on her things. It is time she was there."
"I was more frightened at this, and the men saw it; so one of them told me not to be alarmed, that they were only going to show me a large, handsome house, and would then bring me right back; and that in the morning, if I would go with them now, and be a good girl, I should go home again.
"So I went with them, and tried my best not to cry. They brought me into a large house, and there were a good many men inside. The men all looked at me, and I was so frightened! Then they talked together, and one of them kept pointing toward me. At last I was taken back to the house, where I stayed all day and all night with the lady. This morning we got into the cars, and came back to the city. The lady took me to a large house in Walnut street, where I stayed until after dark, and then she brought me home in a carriage."
Such was the child"s story; and greatly puzzled were Claire and his wife to comprehend its meaning. Their joy at her return was intense.
She seemed almost as if restored to them from the dead. But, for what purpose had she been carried off; and who were the parties engaged in the act? These were questions of the deepest moment; yet difficult, if not impossible of solution--at least in the present. That Jasper"s absence from the city was in some way connected with this business, Claire felt certain, the more he reflected thereon. But, that f.a.n.n.y should be returned to him so speedily, if Jasper had been concerned in her temporary abduction, was something that he could not clearly understand. And it was a long time ere the mystery was entirely unravelled.
CHAPTER XIV.
From that time Claire and his wife heard no more from Jasper, who regularly paid the sums quarterly demanded for f.a.n.n.y"s maintenance.
This demand was not now made in person by Claire. He sent a written order, which the guardian never failed to honour on the first presentation.
Mr. Melleville, according to promise, called upon the firm of Edgar & Co., in order to speak a good word for Edward; but learned, not a little to his surprise, that no vacancy was antic.i.p.ated in the house.
"Mr. Jasper," said he, "told one of my young men that a clerk had left, or was about leaving you."
"It"s a mistake," was the positive answer. "He may have meant some other firm."
"All a wicked deception on the part of Jasper," said Melleville to himself, as he left the store. "A lie told with sinister purpose. How given over to all baseness is the man!"
Claire was no little disappointed when this was told him; but his answer showed how he was gaining in just views of life; and how he could lean on right principles and find in them a firm support.
"I would rather," said he, "be the deceived than the deceiver. The one most wronged in this is Leonard Jasper. Ah! is he not preparing for himself a sad future? As for me, I am more and more satisfied, every day, that all events, even to the most minute, are in the direction or permission of Providence; and that out of the very occurrences we deem afflictive and disastrous, will often arise our greatest good. For the moment I was disappointed; but now I feel that it is all right."
No change of marked importance occurred in the family of Claire during the next two years, to the close of which period both he and his wife looked with increasing earnestness of mind. f.a.n.n.y had grown rapidly during this time, and was now tall for her age--and still very beautiful. In character she was every thing the fondest parents could desire.
At last came the child"s twelfth birthday. Neither Clare nor his wife referred to the fact; though it was present to both their minds--present like an evil guest. Must they now give her up? Their hearts shrank and trembled at the bare idea. How plainly each read in the other"s face the trouble which only the lips concealed!
Never had f.a.n.n.y looked so lovely in the eyes of Claire as she did on that morning, when she bounded to his side and claimed a parting kiss, ere he left for his daily round of business. Could he give her up? The thought choked in their utterance the words of love that were on his lips, and he turned from her and left the house.
As Claire, on his way to Mr. Melleville"s store, came into the more business portions of the city, his thoughts on the child who was soon to be resigned, according to the tenor of his contract with her guardian, he was suddenly startled by seeing Jasper a short distance ahead, approaching from the direction in which he was going.
Happening, at the moment, to be near a cross street, he turned off suddenly, in obedience to an instinct rather than a purpose, and avoided a meeting by going out of his way.
"How vain," he sighed to himself, as the throbbing of his heart grew less heavy and his thoughts ran clear. "I cannot so avoid this evil.