“It may be as well to run up and ask the old man who lives here if he has seen her,” replied the huntsman. “He is a man with sharp eyes for his years.”
“As you will,” said Gunrig sternly, for his wrath had not yet been appreciably toned down by exercise.
They found the Hebrew reading at his door.
“Ho! Beniah, hast seen the girl Branwen pass this way to-day?” cried Gunrig as he came up.
“I have not seen her pass,” replied the Hebrew, in a tone so mild that the angry chief suspected him.
“She’s not in your hut, I suppose?” he added sharply.
“The door is open, you may search it if you doubt me,” returned the Hebrew with a look of dignity, which he knew well how to assume.
The chief entered at once, and, after glancing sharply round the outer room entered the kitchen. Here Beniah showed him the chimney, pointed out the yawning chasm below, and commented on the danger of falling into it in the dark.
“And what is there beyond, Hebrew?” asked the chief.
Beniah held up the lamp.