At that moment some one rushed past me. It was the young lady--running,
or attempting to run, but with faltering and unequal steps. I followed
her. At the first of the flight of steps before the inn, she stumbled
and fell. She was trembling and sobbing violently; whether from
breathlessness or agony, I could not tell. I raised her, and assisted
her to mount the steps. "My brother! my brother!" she exclaimed
incessantly. I could get no words but these from her. No time was to be
lost. I sat down beside her, and took both her hands; and speaking as
calmly as I could, said, "Compose yourself, and tell us what we must do.
Have you missed your brother, or has any accident befallen him before
your eyes?"

"He is on the mountain there! He left me, and did not come back. He said
he should not be gone twenty minutes."

"Now I know all," replied I. "I will take some people from the inn with
lights, and we will find him. You must stay and compose yourself, and be
patient; he has only missed his way."

She insisted upon going too; and declared that this was necessary, in
order to point out the track which her brother had taken. I explained to
her how I had watched their progress, and was therefore able to direct
their search. But she was resolute in her determination to go; and
finding her to be so, I gave up my intention of accompanying the party,
believing that I should only retard their progress.

I arranged with the landlady, that in case of any fatal accident having
happened, the young lady should be brought to my house, where she would
be in greater quiet and retirement than amid the bustle of an inn.