"Something has happened to him," said the father, quite unmoved. "He has
probably fallen into some cleft up there on the mountain: it often
happens to little boys who go climbing about everywhere.

"You ought to have spoken of it earlier in the day," he went on slowly.
"We shall have to go to look for him, and in the night you can't see
any thing."

At these words the cousin broke out into a terrible uproar. She expected
there would be all sorts of fault found with her; that was always the
way when you had suffered for years, and never said any thing about it.

"Nobody would ever believe," she said,--and spoke a truthful word then,
at least,--"what a sly, cunning, deceitful boy that is, and what a life
he has led me these four years. He will turn out a regular vagabond, a
tramp, a disgraceful creature."

The grandmother had ceased eating for several minutes. She now rose from
the table, and went up to the cousin, who was talking very noisily.

"Stop, neighbor, stop," she said; and repeated it twice without effect.
"I know Rico very well; I have always known him ever since he was
brought here to his grandmother. If I were in your place, I would not
say another word, but stop to think whether the lad, to whom perhaps
something dreadful has happened, and who may be standing up there before
God at this moment, may not have some complaint against
somebody,--somebody who had done him a heavy injury, all deserted as he
is, with her cruel words."

Since Rico's disappearance, the way the lad looked at her on that