In the Major’s own room, later that evening, he and Dorothy discussed a plan of search for the missing gypsy girl.
“It is more than likely,” said the Major, as Dorothy sat on the stool at his feet, and he re-lighted his Christmas pipe of briar (Dorothy had sent all the way to New York for that pipe), “that the poor girl is hiding somewhere in the woods. She knows every inch of the land about here, and there are still to be found nuts and berries she might try to exist on.”
“Yes,” replied Dorothy, “that was how she lived in the Glenwood woods. And now that there are no gypsies in this township, she would feel safe to hide around here.”
“Well, I’ll tell you, daughter, to-morrow morning you and I can start off on a little tramp. It is a long time since I’ve gone through the woods with you, and we may take our lunch just as we used to, insist upon having our own little holiday all to ourselves, and then—then we will find Urania.”
“My same old darling dad!” exclaimed Dorothy, throwing her arms about the Major. “I was afraid you would be too busy to give me all that time—you have so much more land to attend to now—”
“But there’s one estate that is always first, Little Captain,” he replied, and for some moments Dorothy rested like a babe in her father’s arms.
It was not a difficult matter to persuade Miette to remain at the Cedars the next day, instead of accompanying the Major and Dorothy on their tramp. In fact, Miette would have refused to go had she been invited, for she had a fear now of the woods, and the gypsies. She remained indoors to pen another letter for her beloved Marie.
So Dorothy and the Major started off, Dorothy with the dear old lunch basket that had served so many pleasant meals under Dalton trees in her earlier days, and the Major with his trusted stick, the blackthorn, that almost seemed to anticipate his steps, so well acquainted was it with the Major’s travels.
“We had better take the path along the mountain,” suggested the Major, “as I am sure there are many secluded spots and lots of good nuts along the way.”
“Very well,” replied Dorothy. “Surely we will find her. If she can only see us—you and I together, she will be certain that no harm could come to her through us.”