“Well, I hope they’ll be in soon, for it begins to look lowering. I’ve ordered tea for you; make haste and come down to it. You’re ready for tea, Cyril, I have no doubt.”
“Rather!” said Cyril, reviving; for fatigue had made him very quiet during the last half-hour. And, indeed, the tempting-looking display on the table, the bright teapot, and substantial meal, and amber-coloured honey, would have allured a more fastidious appetite.
They ran up-stairs to make themselves comfortable before having tea and retiring to bed, and on re-entering the warm and glowing room, their first question was, “Have they come?”
“No,” said Mr Kennedy, anxiously, and even the boy’s face grew grave and thoughtful as Julian rose from the tea-table and said, “I must go and search for them.”
He seized his straw hat, put on his boots again, and ran out, calling on the guide to accompany him. They took out with them a lighted torch, but it was instantly extinguished by the streaming rain. Julian and the guide shouted at the top of their voices, but heard no sound in reply; and the darkness was now so intense, that it was madness to proceed farther amid that howling storm.
They ran back to the inn, where the rest sat round the table, pale and trembling with excessive fear. In reply to their hasty questions, Julian could only shake his head sorrowfully.
“The guide says that in all probability they must have been overtaken by the storm, and have run to some chalet for refuge. If so, they will be safe and well-treated till the morning.”
“You children had better go to bed,” said Mr Kennedy to Eva and Cyril, who reluctantly obeyed. “You cannot be of any help, and directly the storm begins to abate, Julian and I will go and find the others.”
“Oh, papa,” sobbed Eva; “poor Eddy and Violet! What will become of them? Perhaps they have been struck by the lightning.”
“They are in God’s hand, dearest,” he said, tenderly kissing her tearful face, “as we all are. In His hand they are as safe as we.”