"Out in the storm—who?" asked the maid, astonished at the plight of the girl who stood trembling before her.
"I am sure it is Reda, and she will perish," wailed Mary. "What shall
I do?"
"Now don't take on so," commanded Jennie, beginning to realize what it all meant. "Just you wait until a few of these awful claps are over, and we will quickly find anyone who is out there. Just hear that! Mercy! what a dreadful storm! I am so glad the girls did not venture home. I could scarcely get the windows shut when it broke like a cloud-burst."
"Why, what is the matter?" came Mrs. Dunbar's voice from the hall.
"Jennie, I am sure someone is crying out in the storm," she called.
"Come, we must see who it can be."
"I am afraid it is Reda, my nurse," said Mary, now almost in tears.
"Oh, do you think she will perish? I was out but could not find her."
Hurried arrangements were made now to summon Michael, and as the storm had somewhat abated it was soon possible to go out with lanterns and search.
Clad in raincoats and rubbers, Mary, Jennie and Mrs. Dunbar went first along the path, toward the gate. Everything seemed quiet, except the late splashes of rain from the trees, and in spite of repeated calls no answer came, and no trace of the storm's victim could be found.
"Nobody about," announced Michael, as if satisfied the search had been futile.
Then a stir in the hedge attracted Mary's attention.