“How long will he be, master?”
“I don’t know. Wait till he comes.”
“Master Harry?” whispered the man.
“Yes.”
“All right, sir. You trust me. I’ll trust you. Night, miss. I’ll wait there if it’s a week.”
“Hah!” ejaculated Vine, as the man’s heavy step went on before them. “There is a way of escape for him. I am a father, and what I ought to do by my friend pales before that. Now to find him, my child, to find him. He must escape.”
Louise clung to his arm, and they stood there on the cliff path listening, and each mentally asking the question, what to do?
“If I could only get the faintest clue of his movements,” muttered Vine. “Louise, my child, can you not suggest something?”
She did not answer, for a terrible dread was upon her now. Her brother might have been taken; and if so, there was no need to hesitate as to the way to go.
As if the same thoughts had impressed him, Vine suddenly exclaimed: