Then Willard set out on the trail of the runaways, following it with a grim purpose not to be balked by repeated failure. At the station he had little difficulty in learning that a lady and gentleman--lady young and good-looking, gentleman who walked with a limp--had taken tickets for Boston. He was in Boston within three hours; but Power had broken the line there to such good purpose that the scent failed, for he had caused Nancy to go alone on a shopping expedition, and purchase her own ticket for Burlington, and, when he joined her in a parlor car, the fact that they were traveling in company was by no means published to all the world. So Willard returned to Newport, removed his baggage from the Ocean House--for some inscrutable reason he distrusted Dacre's smiling _bonhomie_--and occupied quarters in a less important hotel. Changing his name, by the simple expedient of ordering a supply of visiting cards, he called on the horse-breeding judge, who could facilitate his seemingly eager quest for Power only by telling him to send a letter to the care of a New York bank. This was something gained, and he hurried to New York, where, of course, he was suavely directed to write, and the letter would be forwarded. Driven to his wits' end after a week of furtive visits to restaurants, on the off chance that the fugitives might really be in the metropolitan city, he employed a private inquiry agent, and, five days later, received the first definite news. A "Mr. and Mrs. Darien Power" had registered at the Lake Champlain Hotel on the evening of the day of Nancy's flight, and had gone into the Adirondacks next morning! On the principle that it never rains but it pours, quick on the heels of this startling intelligence came a letter from Nancy. It had been sent to Denver, and some bungle in readdressing it had caused a prolonged delay. It was brief and to the point, and had been posted at Boston. "My dear Father [she wrote].--It will cause you much distress, but not any real surprise, to hear that I have decided to dissolve my marriage with Mr. Marten. I have met Derry Power, and now I know just what happened at Bison when you forced me to marry a man whom I detested. I forgive you your share in that horrible deceit; but I cannot forgive Marten, and the action I am taking renders it impossible that he and I should ever meet again. You will learn the why and the wherefore in due course. Meanwhile, I hope you will not take this thing too deeply to heart, and I look forward to our reunion in more peaceful days. When the divorce proceedings are ended, and Derry and I are married, I shall tell you where to find me. By that time, perhaps, you will have decided to accept the inevitable, and let the past be forgotten. I am well, and happy--very, very happy. "Your loving, "NANCY."