be such a
success that it had been a mine of wealth, and had more than doubled the
Captain's lost fortune, as well as making a fortune for Mr. Carrisford
himself. But Mr. Carrisford had been very unhappy. He had truly loved
his poor, handsome, generous young friend, and the knowledge that he had
caused his death had weighed upon him always, and broken both his health
and spirit. The worst of it had been that, when first he thought himself
and Captain Crewe ruined, he had lost courage and gone away because he
was not brave enough to face the consequences of what he had done, and
so he had not even known where the young soldier's little girl had
been placed. When he wanted to find her, and make restitution, he
could discover no trace of her; and the certainty that she was poor and
friendless somewhere had made him more miserable than ever. When he had
taken the house next to Miss Minchin's he had been so ill and wretched
that he had for the time given up the search. His troubles and the
Indian climate had brought him almost to death's door--indeed, he had
not expected to live more than a few months. And then one day the Lascar
had told him about Sara's speaking Hindustani, and gradually he had
begun to take a sort of interest in the forlorn child, though he had
only caught a glimpse of her once or twice and he had not connected
her with the child of his friend, perhaps because he was too languid
to think much about anything. But the Lascar had found out something
of Sara's unhappy little life, and about the garret. One evening he had
actually crept out of his own garret-window and looked into hers, which
was a very easy matter, because, as I have said, it was only a few feet
away--and he had told his master what he had seen, and in a moment of
compassion the Indian Gentleman had told him to take into the wretched
little room such comforts as he could carry from the one window to the
other. And the Lascar, who had developed an interest in, and an odd
fondness for, the child who had spoken to him in his own tongue, had
been pleased with the work; and, having the silent swiftness and agile
movements of many of his race, he had made his evening journeys across
the few feet of roof from garret-window to garret-window, without any
trouble at all. He had watched Sara's movements until he knew exactly
when she was absent from her room and when she returned to it, and so he
had been able to calculate the best times for his work. Ge