"You're in trouble, sir, and I think I can help you if you'll tell me all about it. Get in the sleigh, won't you, and let me drive you wherever you want to go." "Thank you, Robert. I came on a car, and this is very welcome," said Hawthorne, getting in by the youth's side. "Where to?" asked Robert, taking up the reins. "Where? Oh, God, where!" groaned Hawthorne, despairingly. "Wait," he added, laying his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Ah, Robert, this is one of the darkest hours of a life that has had many shadows. I came here to see my betrothed bride, my heart full of joy that has turned to keenest pain, for I found her gone from me--lured away by a scheming villain that she hates--and what her terrible fate may be, God only knows, for I have not a single clew to follow." "Oh, yes, you have--a clew to follow the villain himself. You mean Standish, don't you?" shouted Robert, wildly, in his excitement. "Yes, he has lured her away by a cunning trick--" began Hawthorne again, but the youth interrupted: "Yes, yes, I know; he has taken her to the Cortlandt street ferry--going to elope with her, I reckon. But we'll follow and outwit the villain," and chirping to his horse, Robert drove to the ferry as fast as he dared. On the way he told Hawthorne all that he knew, and received his confidence in turn. So the actor's plot was laid bare. No doubt existed as to his intentions to abduct Geraldine. On their way, just half a block from the ferry, Robert exclaimed: "There's our sleigh going back now to the stables. Hello, Pete!" The driver drew rein, and he asked, anxiously: "Where's the lady and gentleman you took down to the ferry?" And the answer was like the trump of doom to Hawthorne's sore heart. "The lady and gentleman, sir? Oh, they took the Pennsylvania Limited train to Chicago." "Are you sure?" cried Robert. "Oh, yes; I crossed the river with them, and saw them board the train. That is, the man carried her in his arms. She got sick, or fainted, maybe, just beforehand, and he grabbed her up and climbed on with her just as the whistle blew. Oh, they're off, for sure. Is anything wrong?" added the driver, curiously, scenting an elopement. CHAPTER XXVII. HAWTHORNE CLUNG TO HOPE, IN SPITE OF HIS TROUBLE. "Has Fate o'erwhelmed thee with some sudden blow? Let thy tears flow. But know when storms are past the heavens appear More pure, more clear; And hope, when farthest from their shining rays, For brighter days!" The curious sleigh-driver got no answer to his question. Robert touched up his horse, and it bounded toward the ferry. "What now?" queried Hawthorne, in a dazed way, so crushed by the shock he had received that he was for the moment incapable of coherent thought. The quick-witted youth answered, readily: "Aren't we going to telegraph ahead to arrest Standish at the first station?"