“We must get back now, as soon as we can,” said Louis, who had regained all his usual grace of manner. “Dr. and Mrs. Flemming will be anxious to hear, and we must let them know Gyp is found. We’re much obliged for the supper, and if Gyp can stay here over night, somebody will come for her in the morning.”
“I suppose you’d ought to go,” she answered reluctantly; “but even if you do, you sha’n’t walk, when we’ve got a horse standing in the stable. I’d like you to stop first-rate,” she added hospitably, as she started in search of a lantern.
It was the work of only a few moments to harness the raw-boned old horse to the home-made sleigh; the boys were rolled up in blankets. Harry took the lines and they were off, with the wind at their backs, while the two women encouraged them with shrill words of cheer, as long as they could see the gleam of the lantern.
To both Mrs. Flemming and to Leon, the day had been a long one; and as one party after another came back, took a hasty meal and went out again, the suspense became almost unbearable. With an utter disregard for the truth, the lads tried to convince the anxious mother that the storm was not severe; but she was too familiar with the heavy snows which visit the hill towns, to be deceived by their words. By afternoon it had become impossible for her to keep still, and she wandered restlessly from window to window, gazing out in the vain hope of seeing the familiar little red coat being borne home in triumph. How cruel the darkness seemed to her, as it settled down about the house! As the last light faded away, she felt as if it were taking all hope with it. When she could no longer see the outline of Old Flemming, up the hill, she left the window, but still kept moving about the room, now stirring the fire, now changing the position of the light in the window, and often stopping to open the front door and listen intently. One by one, the searching parties straggled in, each one stopping at the doctor’s to give the same report, “No news yet,” and then going on up the hill, to plan for their next departure.
Dame Pinny was ready for them with a hot supper, and they gathered in the dining-room to eat and talk at once, for moments were precious. Harry, Louis and Stanley had not yet appeared; but the boys were expecting them at any minute, for no one but Leon knew where they had gone, and none of the boys had been up-stairs to see him. In their excitement, nobody noticed that he did not come down to supper.
The hurried meal was nearly ended, when the doctor came into the room. At sight of his tired, haggard face, there was a sudden respectful silence.
“I want to thank you all for the hard work you have done to-day,” he said, and it was plain that it cost him an effort to speak. “And now I must insist on your not going out again till morning. My duty to your parents will not allow me to expose you to such a storm.”
There was a murmur of dissent from the boys; but it was stilled as the doctor went on,—
“I am grateful for your good-will, but I shall forbid your going out again to-night. Besides, it is useless to attempt anything in such darkness. If Gyp is in some house, she will be perfectly safe; if not—”
He paused abruptly, rather than speak the words. The short silence which followed, was broken by a sudden call from Jack Howard, who had restlessly strayed to the door again.