“I doubt if we can do anything unless you do,” continued he.

Her countenance settled again into a resolved expression.

“You are mistaken,” said she; “if the girl had a secret—­as nearly all girls have, brought low as she has evidently been—­it had nothing to do with her disappearance, nor would a knowledge of it help you in any way.  I am confident of this and so shall hold my peace.”

She was not a woman to be frightened or cajoled into making revelations she did not think necessary, and seeing it, Mr. Gryce refrained from urging her further.

“However, you will at least tell me this,” said he, “what were the knick-knacks she took away with her from her bureau drawer?”

“No,” said she, “for they have nothing to do with her abduction.  They were articles of positive value to her, though I assure you of little importance to any one else.  All that is shown by their disappearance is the fact that she had a moment’s time allowed her in which to collect what she most wanted.”

Mr. Gryce arose.  “Well,” said he, “you have given us a hard sum to work out, but I am not the man to recoil from anything hard.  If I can discover the whereabouts of this girl I will certainly do it, but you must help me.”

“I, how?”

“By inserting a personal in the Herald.  You say she loves you; and would come back if she could.  Now whether you believe it or not this is open to doubt; therefore I would advise that you take some such means as that to inform her of the anxiety of her friends and their desire to communicate with her.”

“Impossible,” she cried vehemently.  “I should be afraid—­”

“Well?”

“I might put it that Mrs. D——­ , anxious about Emily, desires information of her whereabouts—­”

“Put it any way you like.”

“You had better add,” said I, speaking for the first time, “that you would be willing to pay for information.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Gryce, “add that.”

Mrs. Daniels frowned, but made no objection, and after getting as minute a description as possible of the clothing worn by the girl the night before, we left the house.

CHAPTER IV

THOMPSON’S STORY

“An affair of some mystery,” remarked Mr. Gryce, as we halted at the corner to take a final look at the house and its environs.  “Why a girl should choose such a method of descent as that,”—­and he pointed to the ladder down which we believed her to have come—­ “to leave a house of which she had been an inmate for a year, baffles me, I can tell you.  If it were not for those marks of blood which betray her track, I would be disinclined to believe any such hare-brained adventure was ever perpetrated by a woman.  As it is, what would’nt I give for her photograph.  Black hair, black eyes, white face and thin figure! what a description whereby to find a girl in this great city of New York.  Ah!” said he with sudden gratification, “here is Mr. Blake again; his appointment must have been a failure.  Let us see if his description will be any more definite.”  And hurrying towards the advancing figure of that gentleman, he put some questions to him.