Blythe and Sergeant True entered the tent. The Adjutant's bright face was clouded; the tall form of the Sergeant was bowed.
"If one only knew!" said Blythe. "It is this terrible uncertainty that is so hard to bear. If I knew where they were, I could cut my way through legions of fiends to save them, or die trying."
"Is there no trace at all?" asked True.
"Not the slightest. It is only a suspicion"—he lowered his voice—"that they have been carried off by the Pixies. No one dares even name it to the Commodore and—" nodding toward the Boatswain.
"But that is not reason," answered True. "It is important that we should know the worst, at once. For one, I mean to find out the truth, if I can, and face it manfully."
He stepped to the couch, which lay just as it had been left by the Nurses. His hand caught upon a thread of gossamer that lay upon a pillow. He looked more closely. There was another, then another, then a thick strand of the silken material. He rose with the delicate filaments floating from his fingers, walked to the lantern, and held his hand within the light. Blythe followed every motion.
Fig. 50.—A Brownie Link Boy with a Fire-fly Lantern.
"Do you see?" cried True. "There can be no doubt of it. Some of the enemy have passed the lines, entered this tent, woven their snares around the sleeping maids, and escaped. One of the two Nurses uttered that cry as they were being carried off. We must look for them in the Pixies' fort or on the way to it."
"That is truth," said Blythe, "and the sooner we begin the search the better."