Alpha Book

Good-night!"
The week passed. As Sir Roger said, the inquiries and rewards were
doubled--trebled; but all in vain. No trace--not the faintest shadow of
trace--of the lost one could be found. The mystery deepened and darkened
every day.
The week expired. On its last night there met at the Walraven mansion a
few friends, to debate what steps had better next be taken.
"In the council of many there is wisdom," thought Mr. Carl Walraven; so
that there were present, besides Sir Roger Trajenna, Dr. Oleander, Mr.
Sardonyx, Hugh Ingelow, and one or two more wiseacres, all anxious about
the missing bride.
The bevy of gentlemen were assembled in the drawing-room, conversing
with solemn, serious faces, and many dubious shakes of the head.
Sir Roger sat the picture of pale despair. Mr. Walraven looked harassed
half to death. The other gentlemen, were preternaturally grave.
"It is of no use." Sir Roger was saying. "Those who abducted her have
laid their plans too well. She will never be found."
"Are you sure she was abducted?" asked Dr. Oleander, doubtfully.


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