It occurred to her that he could not yet have gone far, and that he might be found and brought back before it was too late. She hurried from the room, flew down the stairs, and burst into the dining-room.
“Go after him!” she exclaimed. “Send for him quick, before any harm comes to him! He’s gone—he’s run away, he’s—”
“Who’s gone?” questioned Mr. Gaston, dazed by his wife’s words and manner. “What is the matter with everybody this morning?”
“Joe! Joe’s gone! Follow him, Father, do, and bring him back! Take Charlie and follow him at once. He can’t be far! Take Charlie and—Oh! Charlie’s gone, too—they’ve gone, they’ve gone—”
“Together!” said Mr. Gaston, sinking into a chair, and staring across the table at his wife, who was already seated and silent, dumb with the revelation of what appeared to be both mystery and crime.
The hired man, after witnessing for a moment the agony apparent on the faces of both father and mother, opened the door softly and went out.
Mrs. Gaston was the first to recover her voice.
“Father,” she said, “do you think Joe took the horse?”
“It looks very much like it,” he said. “They’re both gone.”