“Please don’t urge me any more,” returned Lulu. “I think you wouldn’t if you knew how very much I’d like to go with you, if I could have papa’s permission; but I know I couldn’t enjoy myself going without that. My conscience wouldn’t give me any peace at all.”
So they left her. She sat on the porch watching them out of sight, then opened her book, and presently forgot her disappointment in the interest of the story.
She read on and on, taking no note of the lapse of time, though full two hours had passed since the berry gatherers disappeared round the corner, till suddenly she became conscious that some unusual excitement was abroad in the streets of the town; men armed with muskets, revolvers, and other weapons, were rushing past in the direction the girls had taken; women and children were running hither and thither, calling wildly to each other, some crying, all seeming full of anxiety and fright.
“Oh, what is it? what’s the matter, Sandy?” asked Lulu, dropping her book and springing to her feet, as the lad came tearing in at the gate, his face white with terror and distress.
“A bear!” he gasped; “a big grizzly got after the girls, and they all had to run for their lives, and he—he caught Edith—they say, and—and he’s hugging her to death.”
“Oh! oh!” cried Lulu, bursting into tears and sobs, “can’t anybody save her? Oh, I wish papa was there with his gun to shoot the bear, he’d do it, I know he would. And, oh, where’s Marian?”
“She’s safe now; they all got away from the beast but Edith. But Marian was so out of breath with fright and running and crying because she couldn’t save Edith, that she had to stop farther down the street.”
Mrs. McAlpine had heard enough of the bustle in the streets to alarm her, and now came hurrying out, asking, “What’s happened, Sandy? Where’s your sister?”
The boy repeated his story, had scarce finished when Marian came in at the gate, her form drooping, her head bowed on her breast, sobs shaking her whole frame.
“Have they got her?” asked Sandy.