"Ah!" exclaimed Mme. Zermatt. "The dear child is dreadfully anxious to have news of her father."
"And of Jack and Ernest too, Mme. Zermatt," Hannah added, kissing her.
"It is a pity that the range is not visible from the top of Rock Castle," Mrs. Wolston remarked. "Perhaps with a telescope we might have discovered whether the flag is flying at the summit of the peak."
"It is a pity, Mrs. Wolston," M. Zermatt agreed. "That is why, if the pigeon does not return in the course of to-morrow morning, I intend to saddle Lightfoot and go as far as the hermitage at Eberfurt, whence one can see the range."
"An excellent idea," said Mme. Zermatt, "but don't let us begin to make plans prematurely, dear, and since it is now time, let us go to dinner. Why, perhaps the pigeon may come back this evening, before we go to bed, and bring us a little word from Ernest!"
"Well," M. Zermatt answered, "it will not be the first time we shall have corresponded that way. Do you remember, Betsy, a long time ago, when the boys sent us news from Wood Grange and Prospect Hill and Sugar-cane Grove? It was bad news, it is true—of the harm those wretched monkeys and other destructive creatures had done; but it was by pigeon post that we got it. I hope the messenger will bring us better news this time."
"Here it is!" exclaimed Hannah, springing up and rushing to the window.
"Did you see it?" her mother asked.
"No, but I heard it go into the pigeon-house," the girl answered.
Her ear had caught the sound of the little trap-door shutting at the bottom of the pigeon-house above the library.