“Well, waiter, attend to me. We have lost a child—and have some reason to suppose that the child was brought to this house this afternoon.” “It has not, madam, I can assure you.” “We have cause to believe, then, that he will be brought here—Drusilla, dear, give me one of your cards and one of these advertisements—Now here, waiter, is a description of the child; and here is our address. If such a child should be brought here, I desire that you will detain him, and those who bring him, and send for us. Do this and you shall be richly rewarded.” “I will do it, ma’am, if the little boy should be brought here,” said the man. And then, as time was precious, Drusilla and Anna arose and re-entered their cab. “Where now, Drusilla?” inquired Anna, as they seated themselves. Instead of answering her cousin immediately, Drusilla beckoned the cabman to approach, and said: “Drive to the nearest Telegraph Office, and drive fast.” The man touched his hat, shut the door, mounted his box and started his horses. Then Drusilla turned to her cousin and explained: “My dear Alick may, or may not have employed those men to carry off little Lenny. If he has done so, he could not have expected them to do his errand to-day, else certainly he would not have left town with the chance of leaving the child in such hands. In that view of the case I left my card with the penciled lines for the waiter to send to him, to let him know that Lenny is in the hands of his agents, supposing that they _are_ his, and in any case to let him know the child is missing.” “Oh, Drusilla! how clearly you speak, and yet how wretchedly you look! Heaven help you, poor, young mother!” said Mrs. Hammond, as the tears rushed to her eyes. “Oh, Anna! don’t, don’t, dear! don’t pity me! don’t say anything to weaken me! I have need of all my strength!” cried Drusilla, through her white and quivering lips. Anna, with heaving bosom and overflowing eyes, turned her head away from her and looked out of the window. “You asked me just now where we were going next. You heard me tell the cabman to drive to the Telegraph Office. I must send off two telegrams to Southampton. I cannot wait the slow motions of the mails. One I shall send to Alick, directed at a venture to the ‘Dolphin.’ The other I must send to uncle; but you must tell me where to direct that, as I do not know his address,” said Drusilla. “Dick told me, in any sudden emergency that might require his or grandpa’s presence, to direct to them at the ‘International,’” replied Anna. “Very well; we will telegraph there.” At this moment the cab stopped before the Telegraph Office. The office of course was full of people, and Anna and Drusilla had to wait their turn. While standing at the counter, Drusilla borrowed pen, ink and paper from one of the clerks, and wrote her two messages. The first, addressed to her husband, ran thus: