He went to the bank where he had deposited money for Virgie’s use, but disappointment awaited him here also.  He was told that she had sent word one morning that on a certain day she would need the whole amount due her.  She had called according to her appointment, receiving her money, and that was all that was known there regarding her movements.

Sir William was in despair.  Failure met him on every hand, and he feared the worst for his loved ones.

He remained in New York for more than a month, searching the city from end to end, employing detectives advertising in the papers, and using every means he could think of to gain some clew to Virgie’s hiding-place; but all to no purpose; and he finally came to the conclusion that she must have left the metropolis.  But whither had she gone?  He knew that she had not a friend on this side of the Rocky Mountains; it was all a strange country to her.

Would she be likely to remain East and hide herself and her supposed shame in some obscure place, or would she wander back to the Pacific coast, where everything would be more familiar and home-like to her?

These questions agitated his mind continually, and for a while he knew not which way to turn, while he was growing both weary and heart-sick with his fruitless search.

Finally he decided that he would go again to her old home among the mountains of Nevada.  He might possibly learn something of her there.

He reached the place just a year from the day of his departure with Virgie, and a feeling of utter desolation, almost of despair, took possession of him as he wandered here and there over the familiar ground visiting the grave of Mr. Abbot, and peering in at the cottage where he had first met his love, but where only strange faces now met his gaze.

Everything looked the same as when he left, but evidently no one knew anything about his wife; he learned that from the eager inquiries, which met him on every side, for the beautiful girl whom he had taken away with him.

He answered and evaded them as well as he could, without betraying that he was in any trouble, but he was deeply disappointed to find that Chi Lu had left the place.

He was told that he had left very suddenly, but came back after a time, when he disposed of his cabin that Sir William had given him, and then disappeared altogether.

The baronet sought out Margery Follet, and was impressed the moment that he saw her that she had something on her mind.

She eyed him with suspicion, seemed averse to holding any conversation with him, and never once inquired regarding his wife.

This alone made the young baronet hope that she knew something of Virgie, for, having been at her wedding, and afterward assisted her in many ways during Mr. Abbott’s last illness, it would have been but natural for her to wish to know something about her.

By adroitly questioning her he became convinced of the truth of his suspicion, and finally he charged her outright with having recently seen his wife.