"He is surly and ill-mannered, like all of them; no doubt he is on his way to the cabin to plot mischief with the others."
Since nothing was to be gained by waiting, Harvey now stepped on the trunk and began gingerly making his way across. It was a hard task, and just beyond the middle, he lost his balance. He was so far along, however, that a vigorous jump landed him on the other bank.
A little beyond he caught the twinkling lights of the village, and he hastened his steps, now that, as it may be said, home was in sight. He felt as if he was famishing, and the thought of the luscious supper awaiting his return, gave him such speed that he was soon at his own door.
Though it was late, he saw his aunt was astir, for the lights were burning brightly. Before he could utter the greeting on his tongue, he was terrified by the scared face of his relative.
"Why, aunt, what is the matter? Are you ill?"
"Oh, Harvey!" she wailed; "haven't you brought Dollie with you?"
"Dollie!" repeated the other; "I haven't seen her since I left home."
"Then you will never see her again," and, overcome by her terrible grief, the good woman sank into the nearest chair, covered her face with her apron and wept.
Harvey Bradley stood petrified. Bright-eyed Dollie, whom he had left a few hours before, rosy, happy, overflowing with bounding spirits, was gone, and the sobbing Aunt Maria declared she would never be seen again.
Stepping into the room, Harvey laid his hand on his aunt's shoulder and in a trembling voice said: