Langhetti was overwhelmed. The officials evidently believed that Potts was an injured father, and showed some coldness to Langhetti. “He is her father; what better could she do?” asked one. “Any thing would be better,” said Langhetti, mournfully. “He is a villain so remorseless that she had to fly. Some friends received her. She went to get her own living since she is of age. Can nothing be done to rescue her?” “Well, she might begin a lawsuit; if she really is of age he can not hold her. But she had much better stay with him.” Such were the opinions of the officials. They courteously granted permission to Langhetti to take the policeman to the house. On knocking an old woman came to the door. In answer to his inquiries she stated that a gentleman had been living there three weeks, but that on the arrival of his daughter he had gone home. “When did he leave?” “Yesterday morning.” CHAPTER XLI THEY MEET AGAIN. At four o’clock on the morning of Beatrice’s capture Brandon was roused by a rap at his bedroom door. He rose at once, and slipping on his dressing-gown, opened it. A man entered. “Well?” said Brandon. “Something has happened.” “What?” “She didn’t get home last night. The landlady is sitting up for her, and is terribly frightened.” “Did you make any inquiries?” “No, Sir; I came straight here in obedience to your directions.” “Is that all you know?” “All.” “Very well,” said Brandon, calmly, “you may go.” The man retired. Brandon sat down and buried his head in his hands. Such news as this was sufficient to overwhelm any one. The man knew nothing more than this, that she had not returned home and that the landlady was frightened. In his opinion only one of two things could have happened: either Langhetti had taken her somewhere, or she had been abducted. A thousand fancies followed one another in quick succession. It was too early as yet to go forth to make inquiries; and he therefore was forced to sit still and form conjectures as to what ought to be done in case his conjecture might be true. Sitting there, he took a rapid survey of all the possibilities of the occasion, and laid his plans accordingly. Brandon had feared some calamity, and with this fear had arranged to have some one in the house who might give him information. The information which he most dreaded had come; it had come, too, in the midst of a time of triumph, when she had become one of the supreme singers of the age, and had gained all that her warmest admirer might desire for her. If she had not been foully dealt with she must have gone with Langhetti. But if so--where--and why? What possible reason might Langhetti have for taking her away? This conjecture was impossible. Yet if this was impossible, and if she had not gone with Langhetti, with whom could she have gone? If not a friend, then it must have been with an enemy. But with what enemy? There was only one.