"I propose--with your permission--sending personal descriptions of the
gentleman, by telegraph, to the different ports in Italy first. If
nothing is heard of him in reply, we will try the ports in the East next.
That is the course which I have the honor of submitting to your
consideration. Do you approve of it?"

I cordially approved of it; and waited for the results with all the
patience that I could command.

The next day passed, and nothing happened. My unhappy father got on very
slowly. The vile woman who had caused the disaster (and who had run off
with his antagonist) was perpetually in his mind; disturbing him and
keeping him back. Why is a destroying wretch of this sort, a pitiless,
treacherous, devouring monster in female form, allowed to be out of
prison? You shut up in a cage a poor tigress, who only eats you when she
is hungry, and can't provide for her dear little children in any other
way--and you let the other and far more dangerous beast of the two range
at large under protection of the law! Ah, it is easy to see that the men
make the laws. Never mind. The women are coming to the front. Wait a
little. The tigresses on two legs will have a bad time of it when we get
into Parliament.

On the fourth of the month, the superintendent wrote to me. More news of
the lost Oscar already!

The blue man had disembarked at Genoa; and had been traced to the station
of the railway running to Turin. More inquiries had been, thereupon, sent
by telegraph to Turin. In the meantime, and in the possible event of the
missing person returning to England by way of Marseilles, experienced
men, provided with a personal description of him, would be posted at
various public places, to pass in review all travelers arriving either by
land or sea--and to report to me if the right traveler appeared. Once
more, my princely superintendent submitted this course to my
consideration--and waited for my approval--and got it, with my admiration
thrown in as part of the bargain.

The days passed--and good Papa still vacillated between better and worse.

My sisters broke down, poor souls, under their anxieties. It all fell as
usual on my shoulders. Day by day, my prospect of returning to England
seemed to grow more and more remote. Not a line of reply reached me from
Mrs. Finch. This in itself fidgeted and disturbed me. Lucilla was now
hardly ever out of my thoughts. Over and over again, my anxiety urged me
to run the risk, and write to he