"She is indeed, sir. There have been advertisements, and rewards have been offered; but all has been in vain. The gentleman whose life she saved--Mr. Lennox--is almost wild about her disappearance. But, if you are interested in the case, read the report in the _Loadstone Journal_. It is a splendid one." "Lost one!" repeated Adrian. "It is impossible! Oh, my darling, my child-like, innocent love, what terrible fate has befallen you?" CHAPTER XXII. The search that Adrian Darcy made proved as unsatisfactory as that which had been conducted by Colonel Lennox. Do what he would, Adrian could find no trace of Hyacinth. He was not long in procuring a copy of the _Loadstone Journal_, and there, in simple, truthful words, he read her story. His first feeling was one of intense indignation against Claude Lennox. "She is so young," he said to himself--"so young and so easily led. Her very simplicity ought to have been her shield. How could he betray the trust she placed in him?" Then he saw what was said of Claude. He was young, handsome, gifted, eagerly sought after, greatly admired. It was not to be wondered at that a girl who had led the retired, dull, monotonous life of Hyacinth Vaughan should have been dazzled by him and have placed implicit faith in him. But, after all, she did not love him. If she had she would not have repented of her elopement before it was concluded--she would not have returned home. It had been but a temporary charm after all. She had, doubtless, been captivated by his handsome face. Youth invariably loves youth. It must have been a novelty to her, living as she did in the midst of old people, who, though kind, were cold and formal, to meet someone lively, gay, and fascinating. It was not wonderful that she should let her calmer, better judgment sleep, and act under his influence. It was such a simple story, and she had told it so clearly, with such humble acknowledgment of her own fault in every word--with such an entire conviction that in coming forward to save Claude Lennox she had lost every hope in life--that his heart ached as he read. He could picture that fair sweet face, with its sorrowful eyes and quivering lips, the centre of all observation in that crowded court. He could almost feel the shock and the horror that had mastered her when she found that she must appear in public and tell the story that she had never dared to tell even him.