“Open the cage-door, as I said, and let her escape.”

“Where will she go?”

“Have you any concern on that head?”

“Some.  Moreover, I don’t just comprehend the meaning of her visit here alone at night, and without money.  I wonder if, after all, there isn’t a lover in the case, who has failed to meet her.”

“Most likely,” returned the woman.

“In that event, why may not I take his place?”

“It will require her consent.  Better have nothing more to do with her, and thus keep out of the way of trouble.

“Her husband, if she be the wife of the man I think she is,” said Bond, “will hardly stop at half-way measures in an affair like this.”

“So much the more reason for keeping out of his way.”

“Perhaps so; and yet I like adventure, especially when spiced with a little danger.  Upon second thought, I’ll let her remain here until to-morrow.”

“Just as you like.  But I’ve been unable to get her up-stairs; and she can’t stay in the parlour all night.”

“No.  She must go to the chamber you have prepared for her.”

“How will we get her there?”

“Use every effort you can to induce her to comply with our wishes in this respect.  I will come in after nightfall, and, if you have not been successful, will remove her by force.”

With this understanding, the partners in evil separated.

Soon after parting with Mr. Edmondson, who had informed Mr. Lane that his wife was no longer at his house, and when the latter had begun to feel exceedingly anxious, he met a gentleman who said to him, “When do you expect Mrs. Lane back?”

It was with difficulty that the deserted husband could refrain from the exhibition of undue surprise at such an unexpected question.

“I was over the river yesterday afternoon with a friend who was on his way to Philadelphia,” added the man, “and saw your lady in the cars.”

“Good morning,” said Mr. Lane, as he looked at his watch, and then turned away with a hurried manner.

It was half-past eleven o’clock.  At twelve a line started for the South.  Lane was on board the steamboat when it left the dock.  Six hours and a half of most intense anxiety were passed ere the unhappy man reached Philadelphia.  On arriving, he took a carriage and visited all the principal hotels, but not a word could he hear of his wife.  He then bethought him to make some inquiries of the hackman whom he had employed.

“Were you at the wharf last night when the New York line came in?” he asked, as he stood with his hand on the carriage-door, after leaving one of the hotels, again disappointed in his search.

“I was,” replied the hackman.

“Did you get any passengers?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you see any thing of a lady with a child?”

The hackman thought for a little while, and then replied—­

“Yes, I did.  There was a lady and a child, nearly the last on the boat.  John Murphy drove them away.”