him at noon he was to go, never thinking 'twould be like this. I was
sure he was lost and dead, but I couldn't leave my sick baby. Bless
you, whoever you are, man or woman! But stay and get warm, and rest
ye! You're never going out again in this awful storm!"

But Maine was gone.

In Miss Wayland's parlor the suspense was fast becoming unendurable.
They had heard Maine's Indian whoop, and some of them, Miss Wayland
herself among the number, thought it was a cry of distress; but
Massachusetts rightly interpreted the call, and assured them that it
was a call of encouragement to the bewildered child.

Then came silence within the house, and a prolonged clamor--a sort
of witches' chorus, with wailing and shrieking without. Once a heavy
branch was torn from one of the great elms, and came thundering down
on the roof. This proved the finishing touch for poor Virginia. She
went into violent hysterics, and was carried off to bed by Miss Way
land and Old New York.

Massachusetts presently ventured to explore a little. She hastened
through the hall to the front door, opened it a few inches, and put
her hand on the twine which was fastened to the handle. What was her
horror to find that it hung loose, swinging idly in the wind! Sick
at heart, she shut the door, and pressing her hands over her eyes,
tried to think.

Maine must be lost in the howling storm! She must find her; but
where and how?