Emil, Nan, and Rob were at the bars ready for it. Franz drove
instead of Silas, and when the boys told him that the others were
going home through the wood, he said, looking ill-pleased, “They
ought to have left Rob to ride, he will be tired out by the long
walk.”
“It’s shorter that way, and they will carry him,” said Stuffy, who
was in a hurry for his supper.
“You are sure Nan and Rob went with them?”
“Of course they did; I saw them getting over the wall, and sung out
that it was most five, and Jack called back that they were going the
other way,” explained Tommy.
“Very well, pile in then,” and away rattled the hay-cart with the
tired children and the full pails.
Mrs. Jo looked sober when she heard of the division of the party,
and sent Franz back with Toby to find and bring the little ones
home. Supper was over, and the family sitting about in the cool
hall as usual, when Franz came trotting back, hot, dusty, and
anxious.
“Have they come?” he called out when half-way up the avenue.
“No!” and Mrs. Jo flew out of her chair looking so alarmed that
every one jumped up and gathered round Franz.
“I can’t find them anywhere,” he began; but the words were hardly
spoken when a loud “Hullo!” startled them all, and the next minute
Jack and Emil came round the house.
“Where are Nan and Rob?” cried Mrs. Jo, clutching Emil in a way
that caused him to think his aunt had suddenly lost her wits.
“I don’t know. They came home with the others, didn’t they?” he
answered, quickly.
“No; George and Tommy said they went with you.”
“Well, they didn’t. Haven’t seen them. We took a swim in the pond,
and came by the wood,” said Jack, looking alarmed, as well he
might.
“Call Mr. Bhaer, get the lanterns, and tell Silas I want him.”
That was all Mrs. Jo said, but they knew what she meant, and flew
to obey her orders. In ten minutes, Mr. Bhaer and Silas were off to
the wood, and Franz tearing down the road on old Andy to search
the great pasture. Mrs. Jo caught up some food from the table, a
little bottle of brandy from the medicine-closet, took a lantern, and
bidding Jack and Emil come with her, and the rest not stir, she
trotted away on Toby, never stopping for hat or shawl. She heard
some one running after her, but said not a word till, as she paused
to call and listen, the light of her lantern shone on Dan’s face.
“You here! I told Jack to come,” she said, half-inclined to send him
back, much as she needed help.
“I wouldn’t let him; he and Emil hadn’t had any supper, and I
wanted to come more than they did,” he said, taking the lantern
from her and smiling up in her face with the steady look in his eyes
that made her feel as if, boy though he was, she had some one to
depend on.
Off she jumped, and ordered him on to Toby, in spite of his
pleading to walk; then they went on again along the dusty, solitary
road, stopping every now and then to call and hearken breathlessly
for little voices to reply.
When they came to the great pasture, other lights were already
flitting to and fro like will-o’-the-wisps, and Mr. Bhaer’s voice was
heard shouting, “Nan! Rob! Rob! Nan!” in every part of the field.
Silas whistled and roared, Dan plunged here and there on Toby,
who seemed to understand the case, and went over the roughest
places with unusual docility. Often Mrs. Jo hushed them all,
saying, with a sob in her throat, “The noise may frighten them, let
me call; Robby will know my voice;” and then she would cry out
the beloved little name in every tone of tenderness, till the very
echoes whispered it softly, and the winds seemed to waft it
willingly; but still no answer came.
The sky was overcast now, and only brief glimpses of the moon
were seen, heat-lightening darted out of the dark clouds now and