"I do."

"What makes you think, so?" asked the baronet.

"Several things. First, he'll be likely to stay where he can get most easily at the drink. Secondly, he'll not go away to any near country place, because he'd get sooner marked there. Thirdly, as he seems hard up for money, he'll have to p.a.w.n anything he may have left that's worth p.a.w.ning, and he can do that best and most secretly in a large town."

Poor Sir Thomas and his lady felt a shiver through their hearts at the matter-of-fact way in which these words were uttered.

"You don't think, then," asked the baronet, "that he has started in any vessel for America or Australia?"

"No; because no captain would take him as a sailor, and he'd not be able to raise money to go even as a steerage pa.s.senger. Besides, he wouldn't risk it, as he'd know that all the outward bound vessels might be searched for him by that man of his--Poole, I think you called him."

"But don't you suppose he may have left by railway, and gone to some other large town?"

"Of course he may, but I don't think he has, because he'll have sense enough to know that he can't have much to spare for travelling, if he's gambled away his ready money, and don't mean to ask you for any more."

"Perhaps he has done, or means to do, something desperate," said Lady Oldfield, tremblingly; "he seemed to hint at something of the kind in his letter to me."

"No, he'll not do that, I think--at least not just yet. Habitual drunkards have seldom got it in them. They'll talk big, but still they'll go on hanging about where they can get the drink."

"Then you believe that he is still in Liverpool?" said Sir Thomas.

"That's my belief."

"And you think that you can find him?"

"I do think so. Was your son fond of low company when he lived at home?"

Poor Sir Thomas and his wife winced at this question, but it was put by the superintendent simply as a matter of business.

"Why, not exactly," was the reply; "that is to say, he never frequented any gatherings of low people, as far as I know. But he was very much in the habit of making a companion of my under-groom, Juniper Graves."

"Ah, exactly so! And this man drank?"

"Yes."

"And they played cards together?"

"I fear so."

"Then he's most likely hooked in with a low set--that makes it easier."

"Do you suppose that he is still in connection with any such set?" asked Lady Oldfield.

"Pretty certain, if he has let out, when he was tipsy, that his father is a gentleman of property. They'll help him on a bit, if they think there's a chance of bleeding him again."

"But you know he has resolved to keep us in ignorance of his abode, and all about himself."

"Yes, he meant it when he wrote; but when he's so hard up as to be near starving, perhaps he'll change his mind."

"How then would you propose to proceed?" asked Sir Thomas.

The superintendent thought for half a minute, and then said,--

"Have you a photograph of your son with you?"

"I have," said the poor mother. She took it out of her pocket-book, and handed it to the officer. He looked at it very carefully for some time, and then said,--

"I suppose he must be a little older looking than this."

"Yes, surely," was the reply, "for it was taken three years ago, before he went out to Australia."

"I must ask you then to spare it me for a few days, as it may help us materially."

"And how soon may we hope to hear anything from you?"

"In a day or two I expect, perhaps sooner. But don't call at the office; it will do no good. You may depend upon hearing from me as soon as I have anything to communicate."

That day pa.s.sed over, a second, and a third day of sickening suspense.

How utterly powerless the poor parents felt! Lady Oldfield prayed, but oh, there were sad thoughts of bitter self-reproach mingling with her prayers. She could not but remember how she had herself been the chief hindrance to her son's becoming a total abstainer when he was bent on making the attempt, and had avowed his intention. Oh, she would have given worlds now could she but recall the time, and her own words, when she had dissuaded him from renouncing those stimulants which had proved to him the cause of sin, ruin, and perhaps death. Yes; who could tell what might have been now had that unhappy remonstrance never pa.s.sed her lips. Ah, it is easy to laugh down, or press down by a mother's authority, the holy resolve of a child who sees the gigantic monster drunkenness in some of his hideous proportions, and would gladly take that step which would keep him, if leaning on grace for strength, free from the deadly snare; easy to laugh down or crush down that resolve; but oh, impossible to recall the past, impossible to give back to the utterly hardened drunkard his fresh vigorous intellect, his nervous moral power, his unstrained will, his unwarped conscience, his high and holy resolution! Lady Oldfield felt it; but the past was now gone from her, beyond the reach of effort, remorse, or prayer. At last, on the morning of the fourth day, the superintendent again made his appearance.

"Have you found him?" cried both parents in a breath.

"I believe I am on his tracks," was the reply.

"Oh, thank G.o.d for that!" cried the poor mother, clasping her hands together. "He still lives then?"

"I cannot be sure, but I should think so."

"Oh, then, cannot you take us to him?"

"No, madam, not yet; we are only on his tracks at present."

"Would you tell us in what way you have proceeded?" asked Sir Thomas.

"Certainly. In the first place, the young man's photograph was shown to all our constables. Some thought they knew the face, and could fix upon the right person in one of the low haunts they are acquainted with. But after a two days' search they were all disappointed. Young men dress so much alike in these days that it's often very difficult to tell who's who till you see them very close. Then I had the likeness taken round to all the publicans' wives, for the women are closer observers of features than the men. Some thought they'd seen such a face, some hesitated, one was quite sure she had. I could tell at once that she was right."

"When was this?" eagerly asked Lady Oldfield.

"Yesterday."

"And what did she say?"

"She said that he had been there several nights running with two regular cardsharpers, and they'd been drinking. She was sure it was him, though he had disguised himself a little."

"And did you find him?"

"No; he hadn't been there for the last two or three nights. Perhaps he had nothing to spend, for he came the last time in his shirt-sleeves; so she supposed he'd p.a.w.ned his coat."

"Well?"