“Then she has gone to America!” interrupted Lord Montressor, recollecting at that trying moment the fervent admiration with which poor Estelle had often spoken of the young Western Republic. “Undoubtedly, my lord.” “Go on, sir! pray, go on—when did she sail? Her voyage must have been very sudden! She must have chanced upon a ship about to leave port.” “I think that quite likely, my lord. When she was about to leave us, she required that the money and drafts should be sent down to her at the Nelson’s Head before eleven o’clock, as she should leave the hotel at that hour. We had correspondents in New York and in Baltimore. I inquired of her ladyship upon which of these the drafts in her favor should be drawn, and she said—upon the Baltimore house. The money was sent in due season. Our clerk, who was intrusted with its delivery, saw Lady Montressor leave the hotel at eleven o’clock. And we know that the Princess, Captain Caton, sailed from this port at twelve, bound for Baltimore.” “Then we are to infer that she went to Baltimore, though the fact wants confirmation. One piece of information more, sir,—the name of your Baltimore correspondents?” “Sommerville and Son, Pratt street.” “Do you happen to know, sir, when the next vessel sails for the United States?” “I do not, sir.” “Then I thank you for the assistance you have already given me. Good-morning, sir.” “Good-morning, my lord. If we can be so happy as to serve your lordship in any capacity, pray consider us always at your orders.” “I thank you, sir. Good-day.” And thus the peer and the banker parted. “Good Heaven! how very matured her plans must have been, and with what dispatch she must have carried them out!” thought Lord Montressor, as he left the banking-house of Scofield Brothers, re-entered his cab, and drove to St. Catherine’s Dock, to inquire for vessels bound for the United States. After a diligent search of several hours he found that there was no ship to sail for Baltimore in less than two weeks. The first that was expected to leave for that port was the Mercury, that would sail on or after the fifteenth of June. Much disappointed, he returned to his hotel, called for writing materials, dashed off a hasty letter to Mr. Oldfield, detailing all that had happened, mailed it, called a cab, and drove rapidly to the Liverpool depot, which he reached just a few minutes before the cars left. His errand to Liverpool was to learn whether within less than two weeks any vessel would leave that port for Baltimore. He discovered that there was one to sail in six days for Boston, one in a week to Halifax, and one in ten days for New Orleans. But as neither of these promised a quicker termination to his proposed voyage, or a speedier meeting with Estelle than did the chances of the Mercury, he turned from Liverpool in disappointment.