Presently Sam stirred, sat up drowsily, and listened.
"Say, mother, you asleep?"
No answer.
A voice from below in the garden called up hoarsely:
"Hullo, there!"
"What's wanted?" demanded Sam.
"I'm Buller, from Milby's Corners. My wife's daughter has wandered off in the night. I'm out hunting for her, to take her home. She ain't all there in the upper story. I thought, maybe, she'd come in here. The last I saw of her, she was making this way. She's in her night-shift. I could see her plain as day, far ahead of me."
Sam was so obviously but just-awakened, that Buller from Milby's Corners turned his horse's head, as if to make a quick departure, when Mrs. Slawson, yawning, leaned over the rail of the sleeping-porch and spoke.
"Say, wait a minute. The poor thing! Wanderin' about in the night,—an' her light-headed—away from your pertectin' love an' care! Ain't it awful! My husban' an' me'll get up, an' be dressed in no time, for we'd like to help her, if we can, poor creature! In the meantime, seein' you ain't found her here, I s'pose you'll be goin' further. Out in her night-clo'es! My! I wonder—— Say, Sam—do you see somethin' white flitterin' along towards the south—down the valley road d'rection? Seems to me I do!"
Sam thought maybe he did.