Oh! what was that? An ugly shadow of some monster beast looming upon them from out that vast whirling waste of snow. This was when hope was very low in their hearts; it seemed that it was an hour or two since Dick [p89] had left them, and no help had come—nothing; and they had pictured themselves two little maidens, stiff, stark, dead, and cold, found by someone, at some time, up there all alone. Now here was this apparition bearing down upon them. They shrieked and clung to each other; they could not move; they had no boy to fight for them. Fight! Why, it was dear old Carlo from the farm. How he barked, and whined, and caressed them! They could but laugh and cry in the same breath at his funny antics. And this laughter and crying, and the efforts they made to keep on their feet under his wild hugs and leaps, stirred their blood; and with this, hope leaped up within them again.
“Oh, Carlo! where are they all? are they coming?” cried Inna, her arms about his neck.
At which he licked her face, barked, and seemed to hearken, as if he too wanted someone. Why, surely the storm was clearing: they could see the glimmer of a lantern bobbing, now here, now there, as if someone was seeking and searching; and when Carlo barked a shout followed, and the dog bounded away, with his back covered with snow, like a very Father Christmas [p90] of a dog. They did not think of what they were like, with help coming—an assurance, as they took it, that Dick’s life had not been thrown away. Back came Carlo, and with him Dr. Willett, Mr. Barlow, and Sam the carter from the farm, and—and that was all. Where was Dick? Both children rushed into the arms of the rescuers.
“Thank Heaven!” said Dr. Willett, pressing his snowy little niece close to him.
“Thank Heaven!” muttered Mr. Barlow over Jenny, just such another snowball.
“But where is Dick—where is Oscar?”
“Lost, both lost!” sobbed the two poor little troubled hearts, as they poured out their story.
“No, no; boys are not so easily lost,” said Mr. Barlow, he and the doctor shaking the snow from the cloaks of their two small charges, and preparing to bid “Good night” to the old Tor. “’Tis true we’ve seen nothing of them, but that proves nothing—they may be at the farm and in bed by this time.” But in an aside he whispered to the doctor, “I don’t like Oscar’s scream, though;” and the doctor shook his head, as over [p91] an obstinate patient, when he scarcely knew what to do with him.
“Do you take the lantern, Sam,” went on the surgeon to the carter, “and search about for them. Of course, even give the Ugly Leap a call, and make inquiry for them; and when I’ve played the polite man, and seen the doctor well on his way with these young ladies, I’ll join you—two heads are better than one even in the matter of looking up two boys that we’re not sure are lost on a snowy night.”
With this, Sam marched off with the lantern, and Carlo with him, as if he understood the plan of operation, and that the lads were missing, and he must play his part in finding them.