“Yes; he’s in bed.”
Mrs. Riboux, sensing that something was wrong, came out of her room, followed by her husband. Their exclamations brought Prudence and Ormand to join the group. A few minutes of excited consultation resulted in Mr. Riboux going out to notify the authorities that a child was missing.
While the women searched the house from top to bottom, Jack and Ormand, aided by the feeble rays of a lantern, looked about the barns and yard. A group of men and boys from the town were soon scouring the nearby woods, and Desiré, who had returned to her room after the fruitless trip through the various rooms, could see the moving lights and hear occasional shouts.
The forced inaction maddened her. If there were only something she could do besides wait. What danger might not Priscilla be in while she stood helpless here?
After a long time Mr. Riboux, followed by Jack and Ormand, crossed the yard, and she ran downstairs hoping for news. Her brother merely shook his head gravely when they met in the kitchen where Mrs. Riboux was making coffee and setting out a lunch for the men who were still in the woods. One by one they straggled in, reporting no luck at all.
Desiré’s own acute distress was increased every time she looked at Jack’s stern, set face. Well she knew by the deep lines between his eyes that he was blaming himself for Priscilla’s disappearance.
Although it had been a great relief to have René sleep through the first excitement, now it was a distinct pleasure to hear his voice from upstairs and be able to run up and see what he wanted. At least it provided something to do.
“I’m coming,” called Desiré, stopping in her room to get a lamp.
“Don’t want you,” replied René rudely, as she entered. “Want Prissy. She was going to catch the mouse,” he added.
“The mouse,” repeated his sister in bewilderment, feeling his head to see if he were feverish.