The dark night

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"He does know better," returned David. "However, Chris is a pretty good boy in general, that I will say for him. The worst thing about him is, that he is so easily led away. The boys can make him do anything only by laughing at and teasing him. I hope they have not coaxed him to go in swimming, or any such thing. I tell you what, ma, I begin to feel rather uneasy. I guess I will start off now, without waiting for my supper. I'll take the lantern and go through the woods."

"What time will you be back?"

"I can't tell. If I can't hear of him in the village, nor find him in the woods, I will go out to Mr. Dennison's. He may have gone home with Osric, though I don't think it likely."

"If you don't come back in an hour, I will hitch up and come down to the village myself," said Mr. Parsons. "Though I dare say, the little scamp is as comfortable as can be, somewhere or other. He will deserve a thrashing for making so much trouble."

By this time, David had the bright kerosene lantern trimmed and lighted, and was ready to set out on his expedition. His mother kept him waiting while she filled his pockets with cakes.

She was not one of those mothers who pet their children when they are little, and turn them off like a brood of last month's chickens as soon as a younger one comes along. When her biggest boy, who was a rising lawyer in the city, came home for a visit, he came to his mother for his good-night and good-morning kiss as regularly as little Harry, who was only seven years old.

David kissed his mother, and whistling for his dog Sandy, a beautiful and intelligent Scotch colly, he set out on his expedition. Mrs. Celia Parsons was standing at her gate looking down the road.

"Keep up good courage, auntie," said David, cheerfully. "I hope to bring him home all right."

David spoke encouragingly, but in his heart he felt rather uneasy. He crossed a field, and turned into a path which formed his usual short-cut to the village. This path led through a corner of the great woods mentioned in the first chapter of this story, and was a favourite with all the Parsons boys, though Christopher did not usually dare to go or come that way unless in his cousin's company. The woods were very dark and thick, and swampy in places, and were haunted by numbers of owls, which often made themselves heard even in daylight. Birds sung and flitted there which were heard nowhere else, and whose voices sounded shrill and strange, and there was an awful tradition that somewhere in the depths of the forest, among the tangled bushes, there was or had been a wild cat's den, which said wild cat had been heard to screech by sundry people "just like a cat owl," which it probably was. The older boys were fond of these woods, and explored them in every direction to find rare wild flowers, ferns, and mosses for Miss Hilliard, who was a great botanist, but the younger children were rather afraid of them.

David walked along, swinging his lantern on every side, peering into the woods, and now and then giving a peculiar shrill whistle or calling aloud. Sandy, the dog, went sniffing at the path, now and then making a short excursion into the bushes. No sign of Christopher was seen or heard, as may be supposed. Arrived at the village, David made inquiries of every one he thought likely to know anything about the matter. He soon learned from some of the children that Christopher had gone with Osric for a pail of water just before recess, and that neither of them had returned to school.