“But they’ll look for us, I know they will,” Caro insisted.
It was dark and chilly in the vestibule so they went back into the chapel where the air was still warm. Even here the light was dim, for the short afternoon was nearly over. The shadows looked so dark in the corners that Marjorie exclaimed, “Oh Caro I’m afraid!”
“I don’t think anything can happen to us, and they will find us pretty soon I’m sure,” said Caro encouragingly, although she couldn’t help thinking how very dark it would be after a while.
“We’ll starve! I am hungry now,” Marjorie said tearfully.
There was nothing to do but wait. They sat down in the seat usually occupied by Aunt Charlotte when they went to afternoon service with her, two very forlorn little girls. Suddenly Marjorie flung herself down on the cushions and began to cry and sob wildly. Caro’s tears fell more quietly, and after a time she wiped them from her eyes and looked up at the window. In the fading light she could just see the gentle, tender smile of the Good Shepherd as he rescued the lamb. It comforted her, and when Marjorie’s passion of crying had exhausted itself, she said softly “Marjorie look at the Good Shepherd!”
“It is too dark to see.”
“Marjorie let’s ask him to send someone to find us.”
“Well,” Marjorie agreed.
“And soon,” Caro added, “And to help us not to be afraid.”
In the dusk two little figures knelt, two little heads were bowed on the cushions. When Caro lifted hers she thought something wonderful had happened, for there was the Shepherd smiling down on them just as if he were about to speak. It was the electric light on the campus which had shone out while their eyes were closed, and made it seem almost like day.