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"Being too poor to keep the little dear myself, I placed it under the care of a good lady, who adopted it." Phoebe could restrain herself no longer. She burst out with the next question, before Jervy could open his lips. "Do you know where the lady is now?" "No," said Mrs. Sowler shortly; "I don't." "Do you know where to find the child?" Mrs. Sowler slowly stirred up the remains of her grog.
We are also informed, that the breaking-out of the drink-madness in Mother Sowler showed itself in her snatching the notes out of his hand, and trying to strangle him before she ran down into the kitchen and bolted herself in. Lastly, Mrs. Farnaby's bankers have identified the note saved from the burning, as one of forty five-pound notes paid to her cheque. So much for the tracing of the money.
"I'm acting in your interests, Mother Sowler," he said; "and you'll be the loser, if you don't answer my questions patiently, and tell me the truth. I want to go back to the debt. What is it for?" "For six weeks' keep of a child, at ten shillings a week." Phoebe looked up from her plate. "Whose child?" Jervy asked, noticing the sudden movement. "Morgan's child the same man you said was Farnaby."
She turned her head back towards the window, and looked out into the street again. "I must be patient," she said; "he's only a little late." Mrs. Sowler rose, and tapped her smartly on the shoulder. "Lies!" she burst out. "He knows no more where your daughter is than I do and he's off with your money!" The woman's hateful touch struck out a spark of the old fire in Mrs. Farnaby.
Phoebe and her sweetheart sat together, waiting the appearance of the supper, on a little sofa at the other end of the room. Having certain objects to gain, Jervy put his arm round her waist, and looked and spoke in his most insinuating manner. "Try and put up with Mother Sowler for an hour or two," he said. "My sweet girl, I know she isn't fit company for you!
The sergeant looked at him, and beckoned to one of the policemen. "Take him to the station; I shall have something to say to Wall-Eyes when he's sober. Now then! stand back all of you, and let's see what's going on in the kitchen." He took Amelius by the arm, and led him to the window. Even the sergeant started when the scene inside met his view. "By God!" he cried, "it's Mother Sowler herself."
Sowler down on the bench with one hand, and took Phoebe's purse out of his pocket with the other. "Here's a pound," he said, "towards the recovery of that debt of yours. Go home quietly, and meet me at the door of this house tomorrow evening, at six." Mrs. Sowler, opening her lips to protest, suddenly closed them again, fascinated by the sight of the gold.
Not a trace of him had been discovered up to eight o'clock on the next morning. Shortly after nine o'clock that is to say, towards the hour at which Phoebe paid her visit to Amelius Mrs. Sowler, resolute to know the worst, made her appearance at the apartments occupied by Mrs. Farnaby. "I wish to speak to you," she began abruptly, "about that young man we both know of.
The sergeant of police went in by himself to make the first inquiries. "We are a day too late, sir," he said to Amelius, on returning to the cab. "Wall-Eyes was here last night, and Mother Sowler with him, judging by the description. Both of them drunk and the woman the worse of the two. "The Dairy?" Amelius repeated. Morcross interposed with the necessary explanation.
He gave way on the question of money and, from that moment, he had Mrs. Sowler absolutely at his disposal. "Meet me to-morrow morning, to receive your instructions," he said. "The time is ten sharp; and the place is the powder-magazine in Hyde Park. And mind this! You must be decently dressed you know where to hire the things.
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