"That's about the ticket, I think, my lady. Yes, just
so. I found a nice old hag waiting to claim her five pounds reward;
for, you see, the men at the police-office at Murford Haven contrived
to keep her dancing attendance backward and forwards--call again in an
hour, and so on--till I was there to cross-question her. A precious
deep one she is, too; and a regular jail-bird, I'll wager. I soon
reckoned her up; and I was pretty sure that whatever she knew she'd
tell fast enough, if she was only paid her price. So, after a good deal
of shilly-shally, and handing her over five-and-twenty pounds in solid
cash, and telling her that she'd better beware how she trifled with a
gentleman belonging to Bow Street, she consented to tell me all about
the little girl. The man that stole little missy had been to her
precious hovel, and old Mother Brimstone had found a change of clothes
for little missy, in token of which, and on payment of another
sovereign, the old harpy gave me little missy's own clothes; and there
they are."
Hereupon Mr. Larkspur dragged from his capacious carpet-bag the
delicate little garments of lawn and lace which had been worn by the
cherished heiress of Raynham. Ah! who can describe the anguish of the
mother's heart as she gazed upon those familiar garments, so associated
with the form of the lost one?
"Well," gasped Honoria, "go on, I entreat! She told you the child had
been there.
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