She did not return; and since that day, in spite of all the efforts of Scotland Yard and the private-detective agencies, nothing had been seen or heard of her.

The reward offered for her recovery had risen from 1000 pounds to 4000 pounds.
It had been a crime of a masterly simplicity, and Sir Tancred had been sure that the child would not be forthcoming till the reward satisfied the cupidity of the child-stealers.

He had reason to believe that the present reward did satisfy the cupidity of the child-stealers; and after a thoughtful glance at the Biggleswades, he turned to Tinker.
Tinker could be of help to him.
He turned to him and said: "Do you remember my telling you of a little girl, Elizabeth Kernaby, who was stolen a week or two ago ?" "Elizabeth Kernaby, aged seven, blue eyes, long flaxen hair, speaks with a lisp, and answers to the name of Bessie," said Tinker glibly, in the manner of one reciting a lesson.
"Quite right," said Sir Tancred approvingly; "you'll be another Sherlock Holmes some day.

Well, I have reason to believe that the little girl with the Biggleswades is Elizabeth Kernaby." Tinker's face brightened.

"Her eyes are blue, but her hair is black, and it's not very long." "Hair can be dyed." "Yes; and it doesn't match her face." "It doesn't, doesn't it?
Well, I want to know if she lisps, and if she answers to the name of Bessie.