“Oh, I don’t know yet. But somebody, you may bet your life on that.” And having expressed this excellent resolution, Owlet fell to eating her luncheon with a concentration of attention that precluded the possibility of further conversation for the present. Harcourt’s appetite had vanished. He could eat but little, and that little in a merely perfunctory manner, to keep his physical strength from utterly failing. Passengers returned to their seats. New people got in. Some strangers took their places immediately behind Harcourt and his little companion, so that if either the man or the child had felt inclined to renew their discourse they could not have carried it on confidentially. But, in fact, neither wished to talk. Harcourt was buried in gloomy thought, and Owlet was heavy with drowsiness, like any other tired young animal after a hearty meal, so she curled herself up on her seat and shut her eyes. The train soon started again, and rushed onward toward its southern destination. The rapid motion, with the total absence of conversation, soon lulled the child to sleep. The remainder of the journey passed without incident. CHAPTER XXVI MR. MERRITT’S NEWS It was growing late in the afternoon when the train ran into the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad Depot at Washington. Harcourt had still two hours to wait before he could get a train for West Virginia. He determined to utilize this time by calling at the chambers of Mr. Amos Merritt to ascertain from him the present address of Roma Fronde, the probabilities of her receiving again the child who had been stolen from her, or if the lady’s views were changed in regard to protecting the orphan, what had changed them. He secured his tickets for Logwood, checked his valise, because he could not well carry it to the lawyer’s office, and then took the hand of Owlet and led her from the building. “Now, then, where are you going to carry me right away?” inquired that practical young woman, who was so largely endowed with common sense, and had so exalted an appreciation of its value. “I am going to Mr. Merritt’s office to inquire where Lady is at present. You remember Mr. Merritt?” inquired Harcourt as they walked on toward Louisiana Avenue, for it is needless to say Harcourt could not afford to hire a carriage, nor indeed was one needed for so short a distance. “Well, I should smile! Haven’t I been talking to you about him? He is one of them old gentlemen Lady will have to marry if you don’t marry her.” “My dear child, do not talk that way,” said Harcourt. “Isn’t Lady at Goblin Hall?” “I am not sure that she is there now. She may be at the Isle of Storms, or she may be here in this very city.” “Oh, if I thought that!” joyfully exclaimed Owlet. “Well, you see, it is better to inquire and make sure of where she is before we do anything else.” “Oh, yes. And Mr. Merritt will be certain to know all about Lady.”