For Name and Fame | Page 6

about to
throw it carelessly aside, and to proceed on his search, when he
happened to turn it over. Then he started, as if struck.
"Good Heaven!" he exclaimed, "it is the gypsy's."
Yes, he remembered it now. The man had pleaded not guilty, when
brought up at the assizes, and the boot had been produced as evidence.
He remembered it particularly because, after the man was sentenced,
his wife had provoked a smile by asking that the boots might be given
up to her; in exchange for a better pair for her husband to put on, when
discharged from prison.
Yes, it was clear. The gypsy woman had kept her word, and had taken
her revenge. She had stolen the child, and had placed the boot where it

would attract attention, in order that the parents might know the hand
that struck them.
Instantly Captain Ripon ran to the stable, ordered the groom to mount
at once, and scour every road and lane; while he himself rode off to
Hunston to give notice to the police, and offer a large reward for the
child's recovery. He charged the man who had brought the boot to carry
it away, and put it in a place of safety till it was required; and on no
account to mention to a soul where he put it.
Before riding off he ran in to his wife, who was half wild with grief, to
tell her that he was going to search outside the park; and that she must
keep up her spirits for, no doubt, Tom would turn up all right, in no
time.
He admitted to himself, however, as he galloped away, that he was not
altogether sure that Tom would be so speedily recovered. The woman
would never have dared to place the boot on the road, and so give a
clue against herself, unless she felt very confident that she could get
away, or conceal herself.
"She has probably some hiding place, close by the park," he said to
himself, "where she will lie hid till night, and will then make across
country."
He paused at the village, and set the whole population at work, by
telling them that his child was missing--and had, he believed, been
carried off by a gypsy woman--and that he would give fifty pounds to
anyone who would find him. She could not be far off, as it was only
about half an hour since the child had been missed.
Then he galloped to Hunston, set the police at work and, going to a
printer, told him instantly to set up and strike off placards, offering five
hundred pounds reward for the recovery of the child. This was to be
done in an hour or two, and then taken to the police station for
distribution throughout the country round. Having now done all in his
power, Captain Ripon rode back as rapidly as he had come, in hopes
that the child might already have been found.

No news had, however, been obtained of him, nor had anyone seen any
strange woman in the neighborhood.
On reaching the house, he found his wife prostrated with grief and, in
answer to her questions, he thought it better to tell her about the
discovery of the boot.
"We may be some little time, before we find the boy," he said; "but we
shall find him, sooner or later. I have got placards out already, offering
five hundred pounds reward; and this evening I will send
advertisements to all the papers in this and the neighboring counties.
"Do not fret, darling. The woman has done it out of spite, no doubt; but
she will not risk putting her neck in a noose, by harming the child. It is
a terrible grief, but it will only be for a time. We are sure to find him
before long."
Later in the evening, when Mrs. Ripon had somewhat recovered her
composure, she said to her husband:
"How strange are God's ways, Robert. How wicked and wrong in us to
grumble! I was foolish enough to fret over that mark on the darling's
neck, and now the thought of it is my greatest comfort. If it should be
God's will that months or years should pass over, before we find him,
there is a sign by which we shall always know him. No other child can
be palmed off upon us, as our own. When we find Tom we shall know
him, however changed he may be!"
"Yes, dear," her husband said, "God is very good, and this trial may be
sent us for the best. As you say, we can take comfort, now, from what
we were disposed to think, at the time, a little cross. After that, dear, we
may surely trust