“Why, you hateful old thing!” exclaimed Pet, angrily. “I’dd like to know what business you have lecturing me? Vices, indeed! I declare! I have a good mind to lay my whip over your shoulders! Is Master Ray in bed? Tell me, or I’ll—leave you to guess what I’ll do to you.”
The noise of voices in violent altercation now brought Erminie to the scene of action, looking like an angel in her flowing snowy night-dress.
“Why, Pet, what is the matter?” she asked in alarm.
“Nothing, only I want Ray. Is he in bed? If he is, wake him up.”
“He is not home. He and Ranty went away somewhere, after tea, and haven’t come back. We thought they had gone to Heath Hill. Oh, Pet! has anything happened to them?” said Erminie, clasping her hands.
“Not as I know of. Like as not they’re at Heath Hill. I haven’t been there, myself, since early this morning. Now, don’t get frightened and be a goose, Minnie! I wanted Ray to help me in a splendid piece of—of—mischief; but as he’s not in, it’s no matter. Good-night, and pleasant dreams. I’m off.”
And off she was, like a shot, slamming the door behind her, after her usual fashion, and just succeeded in springing into her saddle as the slow cavalcade came tramping up.
Slowly as they rode, a short time brought them now to the forest-road. Just as they entered it, a figure came rushing out, shouting:
“Help! help! whoever you are, or he’ll bleed to death!”
“Why, it’s Ranty!” exclaimed Pet, in amazement, as she recognized the voice.