"His name was Ralph Crewe," said Sara. "Captain Crewe. Perhaps,"--a
sudden thought flashing upon her,--"perhaps you may have heard of him?
He died in India."

The Indian Gentleman sank back upon his pillows. He looked very weak,
and seemed out of breath.

"Yes," he said, "I knew him. I was his friend. I meant no harm. If he
had only lived he would have known. It turned out well after all. He was
a fine young fellow. I was fond of him. I will make it right. Call--call
the man."

Sara thought he was going to die. But there was no need to call the
Lascar. He must have been waiting at the door. He was in the room and by
his master's side in an instant. He seemed to know what to do. He lifted
the drooping head, and gave the invalid something in a small glass. The
Indian Gentleman lay panting for a few minutes, and then he spoke in an
exhausted but eager voice, addressing the Lascar in Hindustani:

"Go for Carmichael," he said. "Tell him to come here at once. Tell him I
have found the child!"

When Mr. Carmichael arrived (which occurred in a very few minutes, for
it turned out that he was no other than the father of the Large Family
across the street), Sara went home, and was allowed to take the monkey
with her. She certainly did not sleep very much that night, though the
monkey behaved beautifully, and did not disturb her in the least. It was
not the monkey that kept her awake--it was her thoughts, and her wonders
as to what the Indian Gentleman had meant when he said, "Tell him I have
found the child." "What child?" Sara kept asking herself.