“Yes, that will be just the thing,” replied the girls.
To the ever-increasing astonishment of her companions, Miss Goldsborough engaged eagerly in the play, but not successfully at first, for she caught no one. At length, however, when the afternoon deepened into night, and the gas was lighted, and the snow was falling very fast, Alberta succeeded in finding the hider. Then it was her turn to hide.
“Now, mind,” she said, addressing her companions, “you must act fairly, and go quite out of sight, and refrain from watching me. I mean to hide where none of you have hidden before. You will have great difficulty in finding me, but I assure you it will be good fun when you do find me. Don’t come back until I call ‘Whoop!’”
“No, no, we won’t, Alberta!” exclaimed several of her companions in a breath.
And they all hurried out into the passage.
Alberta stole behind them, and not only closed the door upon them, but silently slipped the bolt. Then she went to the only other door of the room, which was at the opposite end, and she drew the key from the other side and locked it fast. Having thus secured the room, she went to the north windows. The green linen blinds were drawn down, and the outside shutters were closed. She stopped at a window at the extreme end of the row, and the most out of the range of vision of any one who might, at a later hour, force an entrance into the room, and she lifted the blind, but did not draw it up, and she hoisted the window and opened the shutters. It was dark as pitch outside, and snowing fast; it was a terrible night to take the road in. But what will not a self-willed girl, bent upon her own destruction, venture? She leaned far out of the window and peered into the darkness, but she could see nothing except the falling snow.
Then she ventured to call softly:
“Vittorio! Vittorio!”
There was no response. After a minute she called again, but with no better success. She paused another minute, and then called for a third time:
“Vittorio!”