Elsie threw herself down on a flat rock, and buried her face in her hands, weeping bitterly, and reproaching herself for driving Alec away while she had loved him all the time so much and so deeply. She would give her life to be reconciled—just to be able to meet him face to face and say, "Alec, forgive me!" Then she would willingly die. But to have no chance of telling him, to have no opportunity of asking his forgiveness, was more than she could bear. Oh, the agony of it all! Oh, how she had been punished for her heartless conduct! "Oh!" she cried, "winds and clouds and birds, carry a message to him, and tell him to come back, because I love him!"
Then she prayed, as she had never prayed before, and asked to be led and guided. For answer, a great peace filled her soul, and she seemed to hear the words, "Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
She sank back exhausted, and fainted away. How long she lay thus she never knew, but when she came to consciousness she was content to doze, or dream, or sleep for hours. When she came to herself the stars were shining and the moon was climbing the hills. She jumped up in alarm, and tried to walk to where she had last seen the horse. She thought if she could only get on his back, he would be able to find his way home. She felt weak, and stumbled among the rocks with tottering, uncertain steps. She could not see the horse anywhere. He had evidently got tired of waiting for her, and had wandered away, or had gone to his accustomed paddock at the homestead.
CHAPTER V
When Elsie did not come back in the afternoon, Maggie began to get anxious. She scanned the hills with a field-glass, hoping to see her coming home. Sometimes she saw a moving object, far away, but it was only a sheep. Sometimes a stone, or stump of a tree, would attract her attention, and, unaccountably, for a moment, simulate Elsie exactly; but it was only a trick of the brain, a caprice of the imagination. As the shadows lengthened on the flats and the mists came out of the valley, Maggie could contain herself no longer, but ran out to Pat, and told him she was sure something had happened to her sister. She must have been thrown from her horse, and was perhaps lying up the hills, with broken bones; or had lost her way, or been carried off for a ransom by bushrangers.
"Och, Miss Maggie!" said Pat; "she'll have paid a visit to Strathmona, an' been kep' by the young people till the cool av the evenin'. Let me see; it'll take four hours to ride quietly from Strathmona. Sure! Miss Maggie, never fear! they'll come home wid her. They'll come ridin' up like lords an' ladies to the castle walls, an' there'll be a moighty gran' banquet, an' they'll fut it on the flure, dreshed in silks an' satins an' cloth av goold. Or mebbee a fairy prince has carried her away, an' married her beyant; an' they'll live happily ever afterwards."
"You need not laugh at me, Pat. I assure you I am very anxious. I am sure Elsie would never go by herself to Strathmona. I feel sure something has happened to her. Oh, I am so anxious! I wish father would come home!"