"Frank, I must speak with you at once, and on a subject of life and death," cried the judge, suddenly confronting her. Even as he spoke, he was startled at the unnatural pallor of her face. "To-night a young man, in whose history I am fearfully interested, entered this house, and saw you in your chamber. He is now here," he continued impetuously,—"I must see him."
"You mean the lost son of Gulian Van Huyden?" she calmly said, pausing in her walk, and folding her arms over her breast.
"He was here then," cried the judge, evidently wild with agitation, "nay he is here now."
"He was here half an hour ago," returned Frank, who, pre-occupied with her own thoughts, did not seem to notice the agitation of the Judge,—"half an hour ago he left the house."
"Left the house? Whither has he gone?"
"I know not."
"Child, child, you mock me," in his agitation he seized her wrist,—"I must see this boy, it is upon a matter of life and death. For God's sake do not trifle with me."
"I tell you, that he left the house half an hour ago," returned Frank, "and as I hope to have peace in the hour of my death, I do not know whither he has gone."
The solemnity of her tone impressed the judge.
"But will he return?"