The girls hid their baskets in a quiet corner, and they all set out for the ash plantation. Having cut a stout sapling, they walked slowly back, and were gathering up the basket and wondering where the children were, when they heard a cry of distress.
[CHAPTER III.]
HOW IT HAPPENED.
IT was Guy's voice, and he was crying aloud, either in fear or in pain,— "Aymer, Aymer! Oh, where are you?"
"Why, what has happened to him?" exclaimed Helen. "He's down there, I think, by the sound." And she pointed along the bank in the direction opposite to that which they had followed in their walk.
Aymer shouted, "Here, Guy, at the boat!"
And they all set out to meet him.
"There he is! But he is alone. Where is Clarice?" said Lizzie, as the figure of the little boy came in sight. He was running us fast as ever he could along the shingly shore; his dress was all disordered, his hat gone, his black curls wet and matted on his forehead, and his face wild with fright and haste. He was so spent, poor child, with running and shouting, that he could not stop himself, but fell into Lizzie's arms.
"Oh, Aymer," he panted out, "Clarice is hurt! A big stone fell on her. I couldn't move it—and she's hurt, Aymer, and I had to leave her to find you. Oh, it was so horrid to leave her."