“We shall be sure to find the little gentleman now, my lady. Now when we know where to look for him. It is a downright certainty, you know. Why, Lord love you, sir, there ain’t a woman is this neighborhood as has heard about the child that ain’t as interested in the search as we are, and out of downright human motherly feeling too, to say nothing of the hope of getting the reward. Bless you, my lady, take heart, and don’t you be taken by surprise any time to see me walk in and put your little boy in your arms. And if I might be so bold, ma’am, I would recommend you to persuade her to go home and go to her rest and leave us to follow up the clue, and just have faith till I bring the young gentleman home,” said the detective, with his head in the door, and addressing in turn the three occupants of the carriage. “That is what I am telling her,” said Dick, “to wait patiently; or, if she can’t do that, to wait hopefully until her child is brought home and laid on her lap.” “And now, it is so late, and you have lost so much rest, Drusilla, dear, that I do think you had better go back, and lie down even if you cannot sleep,” said Anna, earnestly. “Friends, you are so kind to me and so interested in my child’s recovery, that I owe it to you to follow your advice. So I will put myself in your hands at least for this evening,” answered Drusilla. “That is right, that is right, my dear,” said Dick. “And, my lady, take this truth with you to comfort you—that we will never give up the search until we find the child. We will never give it up by night or by day till we find him. While some of us gets our needful bit of food or nap of sleep, the others will be pursuing of the search till we find him. And when we do find him, my lady, be it midnight, or noonday, or any other hour of the twenty-four I will bring him to you,” said the officer, earnestly. “Oh, do, do, do! and you shall have half my fortune for your pains—the whole of it, if you will, and my eternal gratitude besides!” exclaimed Drusilla fervently clasping her hands. “My lady, the reward offered in the hand-bills would set me up for life; and, though that is a great object, and was my only object at first, it is not now—it is not indeed! I am most anxious to find the young gentleman, to give you peace—I am indeed.” “I believe you, and I thank and bless you,” said Drusilla. And then the policeman touched his hat, and closed the door, and transmitted Mr. Hammond’s order to the cabman. “Home.” They drove back to the Morley House. And there Dick and Anna made Drusilla take a glass of port wine and a biscuit, and go to bed. All arose very early the next morning. Anna ordered the breakfast, that it might be ready when Drusilla should come down. Dick soon joined her. “You will write to grandpa, to-day?” inquired Anna. “Not unless little Lenny is found. I dread the effect the news of the child’s loss would have upon him at his age, and I wish to spare him if possible,” answered Dick.