“A wild and fearful storm is approaching,” said the girl, shudderingly; “but I must not hesitate. My father is in danger—may be he is—”
She paused a breath, as if fearful to say the word; and then went on: “Maybe he is dead!”
The dog was tugging at her dress again.
“Yes,” she said, in reply to his dumb, eager look. “Yes, I am going. Come!”
And shutting the door after her, she followed her brute guide out into the storm, which had now begun to fall, and away through the forest till they arrived at the place where the hunter had met with the accident from the falling limb a short time before.
Here the dog stopped, and after sniffing about for a moment, readily found the trail which the giant hunter had made as he carried Darke away to the cavern, where we left him at the close of our last chapter.
Then he turned, and pulling again at Vinnie’s dress, trotted slowly away on the track he had just discovered.
The storm had been steadily increasing, and it had been growing darker all the time, till the forest was indescribably somber and gloomy.
The brave girl did not shrink; but drawing a blanket she had thrown around her on leaving the cabin closer about her slender form, to shield her in a measure from the sleet that dashed against her person, cutting almost like a knife, she pushed on after the blood-hound, increasing her speed to keep up with him.
By and by Death stopped suddenly at the foot of a steep, rocky acclivity.