"Sybil, Sybil, my darling!"
Still there was no response. His vague uneasiness became anxiety, and he called aloud:
"Sybil! Sybil!"
But nothing came of it, and his anxiety grew to terror, and he ran wildly about shouting her name till all the mountain rocks and glens echoed and reëchoed:
"Sybil! Sybil!"
And now he was joined by Joe, whose faithful and affectionate heart was wrung with anxiety and distress for his beloved and missing young mistress.
"You can't find her? Oh, Marster, where is she gone? What have become of her? Oh, what shall we do?" he cried, wringing his hands in great trouble.
"We must search for her, Joe. This is very strange, and very alarming," said Mr. Berners, striking off into the path that led to the fountain, and shouting her name at every step.
But only the mountain echoes answered. In an agony of anxiety they beat about the woods and thickets, and climbed the rocks and went down into the glens, still shouting—always shouting her name.
Day broadened, the sun arose, and its first rays struck them as they stood upon the heights behind the chapel, looking all over the wilderness.