Without wasting any precious moments they hurried out the way they had entered, drawing the curtains before closing the windows and screens, ran down-stairs and across the campus to the road, running the gauntlet of all who called to them by maintaining a discreet and somewhat exclusive silence. At the top of the hill, Priscilla reviewed her forces.
“Let’s each take a different direction. She’s around the woods somewhere, because she wouldn’t dare stay around Hillcrest for fear of meeting the girls, and there aren’t any woods the other side of the village. I’ll go north of the campus, and Dorothy, you take the Retreat woods, and Virginia, you cross the road by the gates, and go through those pastures there, and you might look by the birch tree, though she’s not likely to be there. And let’s all remember that if any girl tries to join us, we’re to treat her abominably, so she’ll know she isn’t wanted. It’s mean, but there’s no other way to do, because Vivian’ll never come back if she thinks any one else knows. Whoever finds her first, will give three loud calls in quick succession; and if by any chance we don’t any of us find her, we’re all to meet at the station for the five o’clock. But I know we’ll be successful.”
They started, each in the direction signified; and while they hurried through the woods, thinking only of Vivian, and of how if they ever found her, they would make her so happy she would forget all that had passed, the object of their thought and search crouched on the top of the big rock back of the Retreat, and hoped that the surrounding trees hid her quite from sight.
When the station agent half an hour ago had told her there was no train before five o’clock, her heart had sunk. What should she do? She could not linger around Hillcrest, for she was sure of meeting some of the girls. There was no place in which to hide near the village; and to walk to the nearest town ten miles away and take the train from there was out of the question. There seemed nothing to do but to retrace her steps toward St. Helen’s, and hide in the woods until time for the next train. Then she must trust to luck, and run the risk of meeting the girls. Meanwhile, there was no time to lose. It was fifteen minutes to three already, and in half an hour the girls would be through with study hour and out-of-doors.
She hurried, up the village street, and out upon the country road, still in her sweater and little school hat. Her mother would doubtless be surprised to see her dressed that way, she thought to herself as she ran. She would wire her from Springfield. Yes, she would be surprised, but when she had heard the whole story, she would pity Vivian and welcome her home. And her father would probably laugh at her, call her a silly little girl, and then engage a tutor for her. It would not be easy to tell them, and might be very hard to make them understand; but she could bear that more easily than to stay at St. Helen’s with the remembrance of Imogene’s words in her ears.
Out of breath, she sat down by the roadside to rest for a few minutes. No, she could never forget Imogene’s words! She saw her dressed ready to go, remembered how she had risen to kiss her, and how, instead of kissing her, Imogene had said, “Of course, you realize, Vivian, if you hadn’t been such a little fool, and Dorothy such a coward, I wouldn’t be going away like this!”
So they had really sent Imogene away—expelled her! And Imogene had said that she was to blame, had gone without kissing her, had never written her in all that long week! No, it was all too much to be borne! Besides, it did not matter how good the girls had been to her since the evening when Virginia had rescued her from the carrying out of her foolish plan, she felt sure that in their hearts they despised her for having been so weak and so easily influenced. And now she could never show them that she meant to be different! Even Virginia and Priscilla whom she so dearly loved would never know! But she saw no other way.
Rising, she hurried on. The school clock struck three. She dashed through the gates and into the woods by the Retreat. In a few minutes the girls would be passing along the road, and she was in danger of being seen. Looking around for a hiding-place, she espied the big rock back of the Retreat, the very rock which the Vigilantes had chosen for their initiation ceremonies. A great pine which grew close by overhung it with wide-spreading, feathery branches. Vivian hastily climbed upon the rock, and, crawling in among the pine branches, was quite concealed from the sight of all except the most careful observer.
It was but a few moments before she heard voices—on the meadow, in the road, even in the very woods about her. Study hour was over, and the girls were free. Well, if by any chance they drew near her place of concealment, she could take her Caesar from her pocket and begin to study. That would tend to dispel suspicion. How jolly and merry they sounded! She could hear Bess Shepard’s laugh, and some lusty shouts, which, of course, came from the Blackmore twins. She had had lovely times at St. Helen’s. Of course even now, she might—but no, it was too late! Without doubt, by now some one had discovered her room, and everybody would know!
A loud crackling of twigs sounded to the right. Some one was coming in her direction—yes, some one in a red sweater, for she could distinguish that color through the thicket. She crouched lower under the pine branches. Then, seeing that it was of no use to hide, for the sweater was unmistakably coming through the bushes, she sat up-right with a beating heart and drew Caesar from her pocket—just as Dorothy broke through the last blackberry bush and saw her on the rock. And though she tried her utmost to gaze at Caesar, she just couldn’t help seeing the joy and gladness that swept over Dorothy’s anxious face.