“If I am your dear, good cousin, you won’t drive off and leave me,” retorted Emily, still lingering and moving only at a snail’s pace.
“Oh dear! what shall I do!” exclaimed Jessie, looking very wretched, and she certainly felt as unhappy as she looked.
“Wait for me!” said Emily, “that’s what you ought to do!”
Thus urging her stubborn cousin, Jessie pressed forward as fast as she could get her companion along.
Meanwhile the rest of the party had hastened towards Joe Bunker’s stand. On their arrival they found the old sailor at tea in his little cottage. Rushing somewhat wildly into the room, Guy said,—
“Mr. Bunker, have you seen my sister since we left?”
“Your sister, skipper?” said the old salt. “Shiver my topsails if I’ve seen any thing in the shape of a gal, except this old craft of mine here, since you all left your wagon early this afternoon.”
“Then she and her cousin are lost,” said Guy, driving his hands deep down into his pockets, casting his eyes to the ground, knitting his brows, and walking out into the open air again.
“Are they there?” “Has the old cove seen them?” “What does old Timbertoe say?” with half a dozen other questions, greeted Guy as he crossed the threshold.
“Hasn’t seen their shadow. They must be lost,” replied Guy, doggedly.