But, among all these sufferers, not one remembered seeing an Italian organ-grinder with a little girl until, at the very last, a small boy was found, who averred, that, on the morning after the disaster, he had seen a sort of box, with a little creature chained to the top of it, floating down the river; and that the little creature had seemed very much scared, and kept laughing, and showing all his teeth; and that they had gone on and out of sight.  And that was all he knew about it.

The river!-what use to question those dark and swollen waters? what use to demand of them the bright form, that, it might be, slept beneath them?-it might be, had been washed piecemeal to the ocean?

At the brink of that river, mournful and terrible as Styx, river of the dead, ended, that night, the story of many a life; and why not that of the child so strangely lost, so nearly recovered, and now, perhaps, lost again forever?

“We have found her, I am afraid, Tom,” said Mr. Legrange to his cousin, as the detective closed his report, and his two hearers looked at each other.  “But,” added the father, “keep on; keep every engine at work; search everywhere; spend any amount of money that is needful; leave no chance untried.  Remember, the reward is always ready.”  And, when they were alone, he added,—­

“But, Tom, don’t tell her.  She can’t bear it as we can.  Poor little Sunshine!” And, to show how well he bore it, the father hid his face, and sobbed like a woman.

“No, I won’t say any thing,” said Tom Burroughs in a strange, choked voice.  And so we come back to Mrs. Legrange wistfully saying, “It seems so strange”—­

And then, with the patience of a woman, she put aside her own great grief, and added,—­

“But, Teddy, I am going to do something for you; and what shall it be?  You wish to be educated; do you not?”

“O ma’am! but I’ve give it up now.”

Mrs. Legrange smiled at the sudden enthusiasm and the sudden blank upon the boy’s face, and answered, almost gayly,—­

“But I have not given it up for you, Teddy.-By the way, Mrs. Ginniss, is that your son’s real name?-his whole name, I mean?”

“It’s short for Taodoor, I’m thinkin’, ma’am; but joost Teddy we alluz calls it.”

“Ah, yes!  Theodore.  That is a very nice name, and will sound better, when he comes to be a lawyer or doctor or minister, than Teddy.  Don’t you think so?”

“Ye’re right, ma’am:  it’s a dale the dacenter name uv the two; an’ Taodoor I’ll call him iver an’ always,” said Mrs. Ginniss complacently.

“I was thinking more of what other people would call him,” said Mrs. Legrange, smiling a little.  “Some friends of mine are interested in a school and college at the West,—­somewhere in Ohio, I believe.  It is a very fine school and the West is the place for a young man who means to rise.  So, Theodore, if you would like to go, I shall be very happy to see to all your expenses until you graduate, and to help you about settling in a profession, or in trade, as you like.”