"I? how?"

The Mayor was puzzled. "Deceived me," he said at last, "in my knowledge
of human nature. I thought you an honest man, sir. And you are--but no
matter."

WAIFE (impatiently).--"My child! my child! you have given her up to--
to--"

MAYOR.--"Her own father, sir."

WAIFE (echoing the words as he staggers back).--"I thought so! I thought
it!"

MAYOR.--"In so doing I obeyed the law: he had legal power to enforce his
demand." The Mayor's voice was almost apologetic in its tone; for he was
affected by Waife's anguish, and not able to silence a pang of remorse.
After all, he had been trusted; and he had, excusably perhaps,
necessarily perhaps, but still he had failed to fulfil the trust. "But,"
added the Mayor, as if reassuring himself, "but I refused at first to
give her up even to her own father; at first insisted upon waiting till
your return; and it was only when I was informed what you yourself were
that my scruples gave Way."

Waife remained long silent, breathing very hard, passing his hand several
times over his forehead; at last he said more quietly than he had yet
spoken, "Will you tell me where they have gone?"

"I do not know; and, if I did know, I would not tell you! Are they not