"Why, no!" replied Mr. Hazen, while in his face was reflected the expression of his wife's; "I haven't seen her since breakfast."
"Not seen her!" repeated Mrs. Hazen. "O Henry, what has happened? I sent her with your dinner just before mid-day, and she asked me if she might stay with you until you came home."
Mr. Hazen was a man prompt to action. Taking his wife's arm and fairly pushing her along the road, he said,—
"There's not a moment to lose, Esther. Edie's lost her way, and we must go after her."
Without returning to the farmhouse, they pressed up the hill and through the back pasture into the forest.
Hither and thither they hunted, now one and now the other raising the echoes of the leafy fastness by calls of "Edie! Edie!" but getting no response save the cries of startled birds or the mocking chatter of a squirrel.
As night drew on Mr. Hazen realized that a more organized effort was necessary; and hastening home with harrowed hearts, his wife got ready some food, while he rode over to Hewett's to obtain assistance.
Both Mr. Hewett and his eldest son returned with him. They hurriedly snatched a meal, and then, provided with guns and lanterns, set off to renew the search.
All that night they tramped through the gloom of the forest, meeting from time to time to take counsel together, and then separating, to cover as much ground as possible.
But the day dawned without bringing any comforting news for the haggard woman who anxiously waited their return at the gate, and, when they came without her daughter, sank down on the ground, half fainting with uncontrollable grief.