"But she—is in the opposite direction," the shoemaker was just going to blurt out, when he was stopped by an emphatic dig in the ribs from Becher; and when he turned angrily towards the latter, he made such desperately quieting faces that the shoemaker was quite taken aback, and held his peace without concluding the sentence.
Wolfgang, Hehrmann, and Von Schwanthal, mounted the horses to go in search of the poor girls; and the remaining settlers, with very few exceptions, followed on foot, to cross the woods in all directions, and, if possible, to get on their track. Schmidt strode on manfully before them towards the spot where he had seen the two men with Hehrmann's daughters for the last time.
* * * * * *
"If we can but find the poor little thing!" said Louisa, timidly, when they had entered right into the woods, and were gliding forward, in Indian file, along a narrow track.
"Is it much further?" asked Bertha, shyly, who began to feel ill at ease in the dark shadows of the woods in the company of the two men, neither of whom had spoken a word since they lost sight of the houses.
"No, Miss Bertha," answered the American, with a smile, "we are nearly there. Do you see yonder regularly formed circular hillocks?—the poor little creature lies between them."
"Hark!" said Louisa; "I hear shouting and the cracking of whips—they've certainly arrived with the cows and calves. Oh, if we had but waited a little longer!"
"We can be back within a quarter of an hour," said the American, cheerfully, to her. "According to my reckoning, we must be almost at the place."
"But the ground is so damp here," said Bertha, "and mother has particularly cautioned us against getting wet feet—and you too, Doctor."