“It is true!” said he presently, when she had told him all. “It is true that the world still produces heroines. It is now more imperative than ever that Lord Francis should be found.” “For what?” said she. “Do you think I should betray him now--even now? Ah! Mr. Jacynth, you do not know me. No! I shall go to my grave bearing this burthen. After all”--sadly--“he once _did_ love me!” “If he has gone off with that woman again I don’t see why you should spare him,” said Jacynth. “But, as I have said, I hope for the best about that. In the meantime----” She interrupted him. “In the meantime, find my child!” said she. She was still ghastly pale, but a little fire had come into her eyes. “Bring _him_ back to me, get him back from that woman. Oh!” a little nervously, “I have no right to speak to you like this. Why should I order you about? Only--only--you are kind--kind always, and--I have now no friends! And Ronny--Ronny always hated strangers! Oh! my child, my little heart!” She broke down suddenly, and burst into violent weeping. “O God!” cried she, “what shall I do? That woman! That woman, if she has him, she will kill him! He, who never knew anything but love? My little lamb! Oh! his eyes, his laugh! _You_ saw him! Was there _ever_ so pretty a boy? Oh! once--once”--passionately--“you said you loved me! _Help_ me now! Tell me how I shall _begin_ to search for Ronny.” “You would go yourself?” “Oh, yes, yes! Oh, if you only _knew_ what this last day and night have been!” She was sobbing violently, but now, by a supreme effort, she controlled herself; she took down her hands from her face, and pressed them against her throbbing bosom. “I will be calm,” she said, “this is no time for tears, and you must not think me weak. I am strong--very strong. Tell me now how I shall begin.” “I will tell you,” said he, “but you must try and see my plan as I see it. Now, it seems to me impossible that you, in your weak health, just recovered from a dangerous illness, could possibly institute such a troublesome search as this is likely to prove.” “And if not?” began she despairingly. “There is a substitute,” said he. “_I_ shall undertake this matter.” “You?” “Yes. If you will intrust this affair to me, I will promise to bring you back your--husband.” “Bring me back my child,” said she. “Fenella! your husband! you will want to have _him_ back!” “I have told you I am tired,” said she coldly. “I have borne a great deal, and----” she paused. “There is something on your mind,” said he.