"Yes," said Ellen.
"It must be Hugh," said her mother.
Ellen raised the horn to her lips, and blew a long and loud blast, turning the horn as she did so, in the direction of the voice. They all listened after the sound of the horn had ceased, and heard a reply.
"Yes," said Ellen, "it must be Hugh. I will go down to him on my snow-shoes."
"No," said Rodolphus, "you must not go and leave us here alone."
"Yes," said Ellen, "I will go. I can give him the snow-shoes and then he can go and get some help for us."
Rodolphus declared that Ellen should not go, and began to scream and cry in order to compel his mother to prevent her, but his mother said nothing, and Ellen went away. She said, as she went,
"I will blow the horn now and then, mother, and as long as you hear it, you will know that I am safe."
Ellen went toiling on down the road, stopping every few minutes to blow her horn, and to listen to the responses of the voice. She soon found that she was rapidly drawing near to the place whence the sound proceeded. She perceived that the voice was that of a man. She had no doubt that it was Hugh, and that he had lost his way, and was calling for help. She still felt great anxiety, however, for she did not see, if it should prove to be Hugh, what he could do with only one pair of snow-shoes for four, to extricate such a party from their perilous condition. She thought of her aunt, too, lying sick and alone upon her couch, and of the distress and anxiety which she supposed the helpless patient would feel, if she should wake up and find that both Martha and Ellen had gone away, and left her, sick as she was, in absolute solitude.
She, however, pressed diligently forward, and at length found herself drawing nearer and nearer to the voice. Presently she began to see a dark mass lying helplessly in the snow just before her.