"Why, of course it was, Biddy. Who else could it have been? She's gone; she's not on the island; and you know the stories of the Witch—how she does appear on certain nights when the moon is in the full."
"Yes, I know that," said Bridget. "She does appear, and she frightens folks, and perhaps goes the length of turning them crazy; but she doesn't spirit them away. How can she? Oh, do let me think. Don't talk for a minute, boys; I have got to puzzle this thing out."
The boys did not say a word. Gerry stooped crying, and Pat fixed his big eyes gloomily on his cousin. Biddy was a girl, an Irish girl, and such are quick to jump to conclusions. The boys watched her face now with devouring interest. Bruin rose slowly to his feet, pattered solemnly across the polished floor, and laid his big head on her lap.
Biddy's shapely hand touched his forehead, but her thoughts were far away. After a time she said quickly:
"There is but one thing to be done: we must find Norah Malone without a minute's loss of time."
"Norah!" exclaimed both the boys.
"You must have taken leave of your senses, Bridget!" exclaimed Pat. "What has Norah to do with Janet May and the island?"
"I can't tell you," said Bridget. "I have just a fear in my heart, and Norah may set it at rest. We must find her. We must go to her at once, this very night."
"Where is she?" asked Pat. "I haven't seen her for days past."
"She may be up on the mountain with Donovan. You know they are to be married in a couple of days, and Donovan is to be moved down on a litter to the Castle. Or she may be sleeping at the Hogans' at the lodge. We will go to the Hogans' first, and if they can tell nothing about her we must go up to the mountains. There is nothing whatever else to be done."