r some weeks, at the Albion Hotel. Will you
kindly, without fail, let us know, and that without loss of time, if you
hear or see anything either of our poor son or of Jacob Poole, or of any
one who may be able to give us any light or any help in our search?"

"You may depend upon me, Sir Thomas," said Mrs Jones; "and I'm sure,
sir, I hope you and her ladyship will excuse this homely room. It's
only very plainly furnished, but it's the one your son occupied."

"Pray, don't make any apologies," said her ladyship; "they are not
needed. It is not fine rooms and grand furniture that can give peace.
I have just one thing to ask you to grant me before we go, and we must
not delay, for time is precious."

"I'm sure, my lady, I'll grant you anything in my power."

"Let me, then, see the room where my poor boy slept."

"Certainly, ma'am, though it's in a sadly untidy state. I've not had
time--"

"Never mind, Mrs Jones; I shall not notice any defects. My heart aches
too sorely for me to heed these trifles. There, thank you; now leave me
alone in the room for five minutes. And will you kindly tell my husband
that I will join him almost directly!"

When the door was closed upon the unhappy mother, she threw herself on
her knees beside the bed on which her son had slept, too commonly, alas!
the drunkard's sleep, and poured out her heart with tears to God that
she might find her poor, lost, and guilty child before it should be too
late. Rendered calmer by this prayer, she joined Sir Thomas.

"Farewell, Mrs Jones," she said, as they left the house; "many thanks
for your kind sympathy. I trust we may have a less sad tale to tell
when we meet again."

They drove to their hotel, and Sir Thomas wrote at once to the
superintendent of police, requesting him to call upon him at the
"Albion" at his earliest convenience. In about an hour that functionary
appeared. He was a tall and stoutly-built man, of a decidedly military
carriage; slightly bald, with a peculiarly searching eye, and thin
decided lips. His manner was remarkably quiet, and his language precise
and deliberate. He evidently always thought before he spoke, and then
spoke what he thought, and nothing more. Taking the seat offered him by
Sir Thomas, but declining any refreshment, he put himself in the
attitude of listening, as one accustomed to weigh evidence, and to put
every fact and conjecture into its right box.

"I have requested your kind attendance, M