Chapter VI: Part 6

"That wouldn't be bad; only I don't see any use in having the ship so large, unless you wanted to take a great many friends with you."

"So here are the bicyclers!" said a voice behind them; and turning quickly, they saw Pierre just crossing the road.

"What luck?" asked Johnny.

"I have merely a brace of wild-ducks for to-morrow's dinner. After I had secured them, I did not look any farther for game: I have been talking with the men over at the Point."

"That is where we are going," replied Felix; "but we thought we would wait until the boat got in. You're going back in the boat, aren't you?"

"Yes: I think so. I have walked about enough for one time."

Pierre sat down by the boys, and showed them the ducks, which he had shot down by the Point.

After the boat landed, Mr. Le Bras went up to the larger of the cottages.

The gentleman who lived in the cottage was one of Mr. Le Bras' clients. Mrs. Le Bras said Oliver could take the boys for a little sail, if they wished; so they and Pierre got on board, and sailed about until Mr. Le Bras came out of the cottage.

"Did you have a nice time?" asked Johnny, as his father joined them at the wharf.

"I had a pleasant call; but I should be very lonely if I lived in that great house, with no young persons around."

"Yes," said Mrs. Le Bras: "put some children in there, and as many more grown folks to look out for them, and it would be quite a fine place."

It appeared the gentleman was off in his yacht, and no one was at home but his wife: she stood in the piazza to see them off, and bowed politely. She was a somewhat sober-looking lady. Mr. Le Bras said she was very kind and pleasant, and he was glad to have made her acquaintance. Mr. Le Bras, having promised her husband, Mr. Frothingham, that he would let him know when he arrived at the beach, had concluded to call and inform him in person. Mr. Frothingham was anxious that Mr. Le Bras should take a trip with him in his yacht; but Mr. Le Bras had decided that he should not be able to go at present, since he wished to see his family fully domesticated at the cottage first. Mrs. Frothingham said she and her husband intended to come down to call upon their new neighbors as soon as possible.

"So you are going to the Point, boys?" said Mr. Le Bras, when he and his wife and Pierre were seated in the boat, and Oliver was preparing to put off from the wharf.

"Yes, sir," replied Felix: "we want to see them blast rocks."

"I don't know about that," said Mrs. Le Bras, looking rather anxious.

"That is all right," replied Mr. Le Bras. "Johnny knows enough about gunpowder not to go into any danger, and the men will look out for them too. Felix, you'll be careful, won't you? Don't go anywhere unless Johnny goes with you."

"All right," said Felix.

Mrs. Le Bras said no more, although the shade of anxiety had not wholly vanished from her face.

After the boat had put off, the boys mounted their bicycles, and rode down to the cart-track. They were able to proceed for some distance without dismounting; but finally, coming to a place where there were a good many stones, they alighted, and walked some distance, wheeling their bicycles by their sides. At length the path became smooth again; and they resumed their wheels, which they were able to keep for the rest of the distance to the road. The street was level and quite broad, and although not smooth, like the shell road, was sufficiently so for comfortable wheeling.

"We don't have to turn into any other road to get to the Point, do we?" said Johnny.

"No: we keep right on, for about two miles."

There were frequent farmhouses on the road; and just before they reached the Point, they came to a small village.

"I shouldn't wonder if the men who work in the quarry live here," remarked Johnny.

"Yes: see what good stone steps there are at the doors."

"It's very nice granite too. Notice what an even grain. I heard father and Pierre talking about it; and they said this stone is sent to New York and Philadelphia for very fine buildings, and that nice monuments are made of it."

Presently the water appeared before them, but as yet no quarry, only green fields ending abruptly against the blue of the water. But after proceeding a very little farther, they found themselves overlooking a very different scene. They were at the top of a gradual incline to the water's brink, covered over with stone ledges broken into quarries, among which a large number of men were working busily. Near the water, the rock was worn by the waves into very fantastic shapes; and, as there was a steep ascent from the shore, it formed natural steps and terraces in many places.

"Let's go down there by the water," said Felix: "it's always great fun walking about among such holes and windings in the rocks, where the waves keep rolling up to catch you. It's as good as a game of tag."

"Yes: I would like to go down there presently. I never saw rocks so much worn by water as they are. It has taken Nature a good many hundred years to do all that chiselling, but she's made handsomer work of it than these men have. There's going to be a blast now. See those men running this way. Let's go and find what luck they've had, when it's over."

The boys got off of their bicycles, and, a moment after, there was a loud report. The men then went back to the place where the explosion had taken place, and the boys followed them. They found the stone very evenly split.

"This granite don't give you much trouble about splitting evenly," said Johnny to the men.

"If it did, we shouldn't be at work here, year after year."

"I didn't know there was any difference in granite," said Felix.

"There's just as much difference in granite as there is in boys," replied the other man, winking at his companion: "you know there's good boys and bad boys, dull boys and smart boys, and boys all the way between."

"I know of a granite quarry," remarked Johnny, "where they don't get out any stone better than is used for making the cellars and underpinnings of common houses, and for walls and rough buildings."

"There's plenty of that kind of stone for miles around," replied one of the men: "the stone just here at the Point is all there is that's worth much of any thing, all along this part of the State."

"I'd like to know how that happened," said Johnny; "but perhaps even a geologist couldn't tell, for sure."

"What's the use of knowin'?" returned the man: "the rock's here, and that's all there is to it."

"Let's go down by the water now," said Felix.

"Very well," replied Johnny: "only we mustn't stay too long, because father told us to be back before dark. What time is it by your watch?"

It happened that Felix had not wound his watch at the proper time; so when he took it out to look at it, he saw it had stopped. "It is a quarter-past five," he replied, beginning to wind the watch.

"Then, it is a good deal earlier then I supposed: I thought it must be pretty near six. We came over the road faster than I thought, or else the time at the wharf seemed longer than it was: I'll go down a little while, then."

After they had clambered among the ragged and tortuous rocks, covered with sea-mosses and mussels, dodging the inrunning waves merrily for about fifteen minutes, Johnny said it was time to go.

"But this is great fun," replied Felix. "Let's go down by that long gully."

"No: we shall be late home. Besides, we can come here earlier, almost any day, and stay as long as we please."

"Anyhow, let's sit down here a minute, and watch those wild-ducks by the shore: see how splendidly they swim."

"Yes. I think Pierre must have shot at them in the water. I'll sit down just a minute."

At the end of a minute, Johnny was up and on his way to the place where he had left his bicycle. Felix followed slowly, calling him "Grandfather Prim" for being so particular about getting home early.

"I say, Johnny, there aren't any pickpockets or kidnappers about here! What's the matter if we don't get home till after dark? It's going to be bright moonlight to-night."

Johnny made no reply, but walked on, and regained his bicycle.

"Are you going home with me?" he said, as Felix sat down on a block of granite, still laughing, and trying to tease him.

"Oh! I an't in any hurry, and it wouldn't take me long to overtake you if you were half way home. Besides, Oliver told me of a nearer way, and so I can cut across and get home before you."

"If there is a nearer way, we had better take it; for don't you see it is clouding up? I don't believe we shall have any moonlight to-night." As he said this, Johnny mounted his bicycle.

Felix now noticed, for the first time, that it was growing suddenly darker, and that a heavy cloud was rising from the waterside. He did not care about going home in total darkness and a rain-storm, with the wind blowing from the ocean: he had seen enough such storms the year before, to know what they meant.

"You saw that other road we passed, just the other side of the quarrymen's houses?" he said, stepping upon his bicycle.

"Yes, I noticed it. But come on: we can be talking while we ride, and there is no time to lose."

The quarrymen were now beginning to leave work.

"I don't understand why the men are leaving work," continued Johnny: "it isn't six o'clock, and it won't rain right off."

One of the men was just passing him; and Johnny said, "Do you always stop working before six o'clock?"

"It's after six," replied the man. "If you live far off, you'd better make haste; for there's a hard storm coming up."

"We are staying in a cottage down the shell road," said Johnny. "We came up the shell road, and then crossed over to the other road by a cart-path. Can you tell us of a nearer way home?"

"Yes: keep on this road till you come to the road that turns off, and then keep on that till you get home."

"It's just as I told you," said Felix, going rapidly ahead of Johnny. "Oliver told me all about it. It's that road we saw as we came along."

By this time Johnny was ahead of the man, who had stopped to speak with another of the quarrymen. He hurried on, and overtook Felix. "I don't understand," he said, "why our road turns to the left from this road, when we are going to the cottages on the right."

"It doesn't go much to the left; and Oliver said it is a slant road that turns and comes right out on the shell road, just this side of the lower cottages."

The boys now rode at their best pace, Felix keeping so far ahead of Johnny that he was some distance upon the other road when Johnny reached the turn, and quite out of sight; for the road made a sharp angle at this point, and the space between was filled with trees and underbrush. Johnny hastened as much as possible, and soon came in sight of Felix, who was going slower, now that he was sure Johnny had followed around the turn; for he had been rather afraid he would go back on the old road rather than trust to his guidance, even though he had quoted Oliver's advice.

"I hope you're all right about the road," called out Johnny; "but, you see, your watch was wrong; and this road slants in the wrong direction, unless it turns and crosses the other one somewhere.

"You'll find it will turn before long," replied Felix: "yes, here it turns now!"

It was true: it did turn very slightly to the right at a point just ahead, while another road branched off of it to the left. This was enough to quiet Johnny's fears, and they proceeded rapidly on their way, Felix accommodating his pace to Johnny's for the sake of the company; for it was now quite dusky on account of the clouds, and the wind was beginning to blow hard.

The woods, which had been quite thin at their right when they entered the road, soon became thicker, and presently there were woods upon each side: they were passing through a strip of forest. It was so dark here that they could not see distinctly, and were obliged to ride slowly for fear of getting out of the road, or coming across some obstacle in their track.

"If father and mother would not be so frightened, we had better go back to the village at the quarry, and stay till the storm is over, or until morning," said Johnny anxiously, after they had proceeded some distance through the woods.

"I an't going back through these woods," replied Felix, "not if I once get out of them; and don't you see that kind of opening ahead?"

Johnny had been looking down to see, if possible, where he was riding; but now, glancing forward, he saw a lightish spot in the distance at the left.

"If that is the opening in the road, this road don't lead anywhere near home," replied Johnny; "but I guess it must be, for I think I can see that the road turns around just ahead of us. Don't you see how thick and dark it is, right ahead, like thick woods?"

"Yes, I noticed that; and that's what made me think the light spot you see over there through the trees was where the road comes out of the woods. We might just as well go out there, and ask to stop at some farmhouse, as to try to go back to the village through the woods."

"I don't see what makes that place look so light," said Johnny: "I shouldn't suppose that just the difference between the woods and outside would make it as light, unless it has cleared off; and if it has, I should think we could see some of the light here in the woods."

"We'll find out pretty soon: here we are at the turn, now."

As they passed on around the turn, and beyond, it became much lighter: they could see their way with tolerable distinctness. As they approached the bright spot, which was now plainly the end of the woods, the light increased.

"The sun is certainly shining," remarked Felix, "and so we can get home some way: though I don't intend to go through these woods again."

When they came out of the woods, they found themselves facing a meadow, with the view just beyond obstructed by a thick fog. The sky was dark with heavy clouds; and the road they were on led, at the left, directly down upon the beach, upon which the surf was rolling heavily. Just outside the woods, the road continued to the right, at nearly right angles with that upon which they had been travelling. Close by the water, and almost within reach of the boiling surf, was the lighthouse, which explained the mystery of the bright spot which had so puzzled Johnny. The wind here was blowing a gale. It was no longer possible for them to guide their wheels. They dismounted, and stood shivering in their light garments before the gale.

"It seems to me that if we take this road at the right, it might lead us home," said Johnny.

"You don't get me trying any more roads, until I am sure," returned Felix: "I don't see how Oliver came to get us into such a fix. Let's go over to the lighthouse, and ask the way home. If we've got to go through those woods again, we'll have to stay till morning. I guess we'd better stay, anyhow, if they're willing."

"No," returned Johnny firmly. "I must get home to-night, if possible: it would frighten my mother almost to death, I am afraid, if we didn't get back. But, of course, we had better go to the lighthouse, and inquire our way. Let's leave our wheels here in the road; for we must come back here on our way home, probably."

Being relieved of the bicycles, they proceeded to the lighthouse as rapidly as the wind, blowing from the sea, would allow, and soon reached the keeper's dwelling, which was a stone building attached to the lighthouse. They stood for some time upon the steps, buffeted by the strong wind from the ocean at the left, the spray from the waves dashing in their faces as the breeze blew it towards them. They were only a few yards from the shore.

"We didn't rap loud enough," said Felix, pounding with both hands upon the door: "the waves and wind make such a noise, they can't hear us."

"I wondered how the wind came to make such a strange noise, when we were coming through the woods," said Johnny: "it was the rush of the surf."

"I came over here several times with my father, last year," said Felix: "we used to come over whenever we had company, to show them the ocean and lighthouse. I have seen the man who keeps the lighthouse so many times, that I think he will remember me."

Still no one came to the door.

"They can't hear, on account of the surf," said Johnny.

"Let's both pound together, then."

So both of the boys rapped as loudly as they could upon the door, with both hands.

"The lighthouse-keeper has a boy about seventeen years old," said Felix. "He told me there was an awful undertow here. I hope he will come to the door, for I am sure he will remember me."

"Who is it?" asked a youthful voice inside the door. At first the boys could not distinguish the words; but after shouting back, and putting their cars close to the door, they soon made out the repeated inquiry, although it sounded very faint.

"We're two boys who have lost our way!" called back Johnny.

"I'm Felix Le Bras, from one of the cottages on the beach!" sang out Felix, in a loud tone. "I know the folks here, and I want to come in and inquire the way home."

The door was opened a very little way, and a soft, timid voice said,--

"You can come in, but there isn't any one at home but me."

The boys followed the owner of the voice into a room at the end of the hall, which was upon the farther side of the house. It might have been a pleasant room in a sunny day; but being very plainly furnished, with no books, pictures, or papers about, and only lighted by a small kerosene-lamp, while the wind and waves howled without, it seemed to Johnny a rather dull place for a girl to stay in alone.

Felix stared at the girl, while she looked bashfully at the boys, saying,--

"It's too bad you've got lost, and such a bad night too! I thought it was pretty lonesome staying here by myself, such a windy night; but it would be worse to be lost, out of doors. Only, there are two of you. If I had another girl here, perhaps I shouldn't be lonely at all. Sit down, won't you? I'd get you some supper, only I don't know as my aunt would like it. I suppose, if you're lost, you haven't had any supper. I guess I could let you have some pilot-bread, anyway."

"What I want to know first," replied Felix, "is how you come to be here. I was told last summer that no one lived here except the lighthouse-keeper and his boy; and now you're here, and you tell about your aunt."

"My mother died last spring, and I came to live here. And my uncle got married again last winter, and that's the way I came to have an aunt here. But Andrew isn't here now: he's gone smacking."

"Smacking!" exclaimed Johnny. "What's smacking?"

"Why, he's gone off fishing for mackerel in a smack."

"Oh! I know what that is," explained Felix; "it's a fishing-vessel; I believe it has one mast, but is a good deal larger than a sail boat."

"Do you like to stay here?" inquired Johnny, casting another glance about the dreary apartment.

"No," replied the girl, looking down, with a rather sad expression of countenance; "but my mother's dead, and so I can't help it. Perhaps by and by I can find a good place to go out to work where there are some children: that's what my aunt wants me to do, and I think I should like it better than staying here. My uncle is going to ask some of the cottagers if they want a girl to help take care of children: my aunt keeps reminding him to ask, and he keeps forgetting it, or saying he hasn't time. Sometimes I think I will go over there and ask myself; and I mean to, as soon as I get my new dress done; I'm sewing on it as fast as I can."

The boys then noticed that there was a partly finished blue calico dress lying upon the table near the lamp, and also a little thimble, a spool of thread, and a pair of scissors.

"You can tell us the way to the cottages, then?" said Johnny; "we're in a great hurry to get there: our folks will be very much worried at our not getting home before this."

"I've been there once with my uncle; but we went round by the village, because you can't get across so well with a wagon by the other road; the end of the road isn't finished."

"You can get across with a bicycle, though," replied Felix: "and Oliver says he is going to cut the bushes down back of our place, so we can go right across with our team; father told him to see it was done this year, for we don't want to have to go around by the village every time we take folks over here to the ocean."

"I don't see how we could get across any wild place with our bicycles, as dark as it is now," remarked Johnny, looking very sober. "When you told of another road, I thought of course it was a real road all the way down to the cottages."

"Well, I supposed it would be light enough for us to see. Oliver said we should come right down back of the house, and we could get off, and walk across right into our grounds. We can stay here all night, if you're afraid to try it in the dark."

"I don't think I am afraid, but I don't see how we could find our way. I think we had better try it, though, for I don't see as any thing can happen to us: it isn't so very late, and perhaps we can find our way very well. If we can't, we can come back here."

"Yes," said the girl: "and, by that time, my uncle will be home; I am sure he will let you stay. He is a real pleasant man: I am not afraid of him at all."

"Are you afraid of any one?" inquired Johnny.

"Why, no: I'm not exactly afraid. But my aunt isn't as fond of children as my uncle is: perhaps it's because she never had any children of her own."

"I suppose the direct road to the cottages is this one up by the edge of the woods," said Johnny.

"Yes: my uncle always goes that way, when he cuts across."

"Are there any turns? or is it just a straight road?"

"I think it is straight, but I'm not certain."

"I think we'd better risk it, Felix. If we keep the road that leads as much as possible in a line from here, I think we must be right, even if there are other roads on the way."

"If you'll risk it, I will," replied Felix.

"Is your clock right?" asked Johnny of the girl.

"Yes: my uncle always keeps it right."

"It isn't eight o'clock, then. We ought to get home by nine easily, even if we do have to go slowly. I don't know but it would be safer to walk, Felix."

"Oh, no! it's a good road, I guess: we'd be forever getting home that way."

"But you know I can't see as well as you can. I might get a header."

"I'll go ahead, then, and lead the way, and you follow in my track."

"Shall I get you some pilot-bread?" asked the girl. "I know I could let you have that; but my aunt don't like to cook very well, and I don't quite dare to get any thing out of the pantry."

"Yes, let's have some, and some water," replied Felix: "I'm most starved to death. If there's any thing to pay, I'll settle with your uncle when I come over here again."

"Oh! my uncle won't take any thing: he's a real nice man. I wish he was here, and he'd give you a good supper, and take you to your cottage. But my aunt was in town visiting to-day, and he's gone in to bring her home. I don't believe he'll get back before nine."

After the girl had disappeared, Johnny said, "Isn't it too bad she has to live in such a lonely place, where there are no other young folks?"

"Yes," replied Felix: "I hope she'll get a good place at one of the cottages."

"So do I: then we could get acquainted with her, and we would introduce her to Julia."

"Oh, no! we couldn't. She would only be a nurse-girl, and we couldn't associate with her; and a rich girl like Julia wouldn't be introduced to her, nor have any thing to do with her."

Johnny felt quite shocked at this statement; but before he could reply, the girl came back bringing a plateful of pilot-bread in one hand, and a little tin pail of water and a tumbler in the other. She placed these on the table; and the boys sat down, and began to eat with good appetites.

"I didn't know before that pilot-bread was so good," remarked Felix.

"I did," said Johnny: "I always liked it. We have it quite often at home, instead of crackers; because Sue and I like it so well. And this is excellent pilot-bread."

The girl seemed very much pleased at this praise of the refreshment; and, after the boys had emptied the plate, she offered to get some more bread and water. But they assured her they could not wait any longer. They did not say they could not eat any more, for they were still hungry.

As they were about to go out again into the dark, windy night, Johnny asked the girl what her name was; and she replied, "Ruth Anderson."

After some difficulty, they found their bicycles, and walked along the road with them until they were so far from the shore that the wind no longer made it impossible to mount. The light from the lighthouse was a great help to them for some distance; but, the farther they receded from the beach, the darker it became; and finally, as a slight turn to the right brought the woods between them and the light, they were again in darkness. As soon as their eyes became accustomed to the change, however, they were able to proceed tolerably well; although, from their ignorance of the road, they did not dare ride rapidly. Felix kept ahead, and Johnny followed at a little distance behind. Before they had proceeded more than a mile, it began to rain. This complicated matters. Although it did not rain very hard at first, it was evident that a storm was setting in.

"It won't do for us to get soaking wet," said Johnny, "since we are not sure of finding our way home. If it rains real hard, we had better stop at a house, if we come to any."

"I don't believe we shall come to any," returned Felix: "we haven't seen any sort of a building yet."

They rode on now as rapidly as they dared, and all the time the drops were coming faster and heavier. Presently it began to pour, and the wind rose so that they had to give up their bicycles again. The wind continued with such violence, that, after they were upon their feet, they could walk only in the direction in which it was blowing. But, as Johnny said, that was in the direction of home. They were obliged to leave their bicycles, after drawing them to one side of the road, as well as they could judge of that location in the darkness. There seemed to be some tall grass at the side of the road. After proceeding some distance farther, stumbling into puddles, and occasionally into the stone wall that bordered the side of the road, Felix announced that he was certain there was a house or barn just off at the right.

"For here's an opening in the wall," he continued: "this shows there is some kind of a place along here."

As for Johnny, he declared he could not see any thing. But under Felix's directions, he felt where the wall ended, and walked in that direction. By this time they had lost the road, and could not find it again; and Felix was not as sure as before that they were near a house.

"I know one thing," said Johnny: "we're in a sort of rough piece of land; we'd better get back into the street, if we can."

They finally took hold of each other's hands, for fear of losing each other in the thick darkness. They were drenched to the skin. Felix began to cry.

"We'll have to wander about here all night," he sobbed in a piteous tone, "and we shall, like enough, be half dead before morning." Johnny thought, with aching heart, of his mother's distress, and of what a sorrow it would be to her and his father and Sue if he should be found dead or dying. He thought of the horror of Felix's dying, too, of the double grief to his own parents, and of the despair of his uncle and aunt at the loss of their only child. Still, he did not really think that being out in the wind and rain all night could kill them. "I guess we could live through it, Felix," he returned cheerily: "boys are not killed so easily. Let's try and feel for the road once more."

As Johnny spoke, he put down his hand to see if he could make sure of the nature of the ground, and his head came violently in contact with some obstacle.

*CHAPTER X.*

*TROUBLE.*

After Mr. and Mrs. Le Bras had returned to the pier in the sail-boat, Oliver said he should be just in time to go to the station for Kate.

"How far is the town from the village?" inquired Mrs. Le Bras.

"About six miles, ma'am."

"I think, then, that I will ride to the village with you; and, after we have taken in Kate, you may drive into town. I don't know what I shall do in this quiet place, Frank, without more to take up my mind: so I think I will get some oil-colors, and try painting again; there are such lovely views about here. It will amuse me, and help to keep up my painting, which is getting very rusty indeed. If I can succeed pretty well, the views will be pleasant souvenirs of our summer vacation here."

"I should like that very much," replied Mr. Le Bras. "I would accompany you to town were it not for returning so late. Some one must be here to see to the children: Felix is so thoughtless that I have not the confidence about leaving them that I used to have in leaving John and Sue."

"Oh, no! the children must not be left. But suppose you go, Frank, and get the paints. I am sure you can do it quite as well."

"No: I should be sure to make some mistake. And Pierre and I were to try a little fishing off the rocks. He has some ducks for dinner, and we thought we might capture some porgies or blackfish for breakfast."

"I'll go up and git the carriage, then," said Oliver. "Here's a nice pavilion you can sit in, ma'am, till I git back: I sha'n't be long."

The pavilion was a large canvas roof, supported by a frame placed on the shore near the pier. There were seats under it, upon which nurses and children were sitting, and also several ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Le Bras seated his wife upon one of the vacant benches, and he and Pierre sat down by her side.

"Those rocks, down yonder, look like a pretty good fishing-place," remarked Pierre, glancing at a cluster of rocks projecting into the water, some distance below the cottages.

"Yes: we will try that place. I believe you said you had lines and hooks with you."

"Yes: they are in my pouch. I thought I might try fishing up at the Point, if I did not succeed in getting the ducks; but ducks are very plenty there."

After they had sat conversing for a while, Oliver arrived with the carriage; and Mrs. Le Bras got in, and rode off towards the village. Her last words were,--

"You will have to give an extra good-night kiss to the children, for me, Frank. I am afraid I shall not be at home in time; for I am sure they will be very tired, and wish to go to bed early."

After the carriage had driven off, Mr. Le Bras and Pierre procured some bait at a little fish-market near the shore, and then proceeded to the rocks. By half-past six they had caught several blackfish and a sea-bass: it had by that time become very cloudy and windy, and was getting dark.

"I think we shall have to make the blackfish answer for breakfast," said Mr. Le Bras. "As for the bass, that will make a good first course for dinner. We shall not have much more than time to get back to supper. I will not have it put off again until seven. I did it to accommodate John and Felix about going to the Point in the cool of the day. Hereafter, they can take morning for bicycling, as usual: I thought I would indulge them for once."

Mr. Le Bras was somewhat surprised, on reaching home, to find that Johnny and Felix had not returned. Sue and Julia were sitting in the veranda, talking merrily; but Sue's face fell a little when she found her mother would not be home until late.

"It would have been sort of lonely when I got back, if it hadn't been for Julia," she said.

"I supposed the boys would be at home by this time," replied Mr. Le Bras. "But they will doubtless arrive very soon."

As supper was not quite ready, Mr. Le Bras and Pierre went out by the barn to dress the blackfish, which required skinning, having told Mary that she need not ring the supper-bell until the boys came. But after the fish were dressed, and the gentlemen had washed their hands, and brushed their clothes, there was no further excuse for delaying supper. Yet there were still no boys in view.

"I do not understand this," said Mr. Le Bras. "But we will have supper now, Mary. As for those young truants, they will deserve nothing better than bread and water when they make their appearance. I should suppose that cloud would have warned them home, even had I not told them to be here by seven. If they do not come soon, I fear they will get a wetting."

"It's Felix's fault, some way, I'm sure," said Sue. "You ought to hear Julia tell what pranks he cut up here last summer: she said he wouldn't mind his father and mother at all, and was always getting into some scrape or other, or getting some one else in. He and that Jack, who stoned her kitten,--his kitten, I mean, that's hers now,--they were great friends: only they were always fighting and quarrelling with each other. Dear me! how sleepy I am! I can hardly keep my eyes open long enough to eat my supper."

"That must be what ails the boys," said Pierre, laughing, as Sue leaned back in her chair, holding her knife and fork in a very languid manner, as if the dissection of the sardine on her plate was a great task to be undertaken. "They have been overcome by the exercise and seaside air, and fallen asleep by the side of their bicycles."

Just then the rain began to dash against the panes of the dining-room windows. Mr. Le Bras rose from the table, and, going out at the front-door, looked up the road; but it was now too dark and foggy to see any distance. As he came back to the table, he said rather gravely,--

"It is pretty dark now for the boys to make their way home. I hope they will not try it on the beach-road; for they might ride into the water, Felix is so heedless, and Johnny so near-sighted."

"I think I heard Felix say they were coming back on the other road," replied Pierre: "I'll go and look out the back way."

So Pierre went to the back-door, and looked out: in fact, he went far out into the huckleberry pasture behind the barn. But nothing could be seen or heard but rain and darkness and the sighing of the wind.

"What can be done?" asked Mr. Le Bras, as Pierre came in with his report.

"I might take one of the horses, and ride up to the quarrymen's houses at the Point, and see if they are there all right. I think I can keep the shell road easily, even in the darkness; and I will give the horse the lead across the cart-path. When we get to the other road, I will turn to the left; and the horse will go on without any trouble till we get to the houses."

"But you will get badly wet."

"That is nothing: I am used to it. Besides, I have a rubber coat."

"Is there a saddle at the barn?"

"If not, it will not make much difference."

"Yes, there is, sir," said Mary, who had just come into the dining-room with a fresh supply of dry toast. "Isn't it dreadful those children ha'n't come? If Mrs. Le Bras was here, she'd be worried enough."

"Yes: that is the worst of it," replied Mr. Le Bras. "I would go and look for them myself, were it not for fear she would be back before I was. I must try to keep it from her, if possible."

"I will go right out, then, and saddle the pony," replied Pierre.

"You'll find the saddle hanging up just at the left of the door, as you go in," said Mary. "An' I'll go and light you a lantern."

By this time, Sue was fast asleep in her chair at the table. Her father took her in his arms, and carried her up to her room. Mary said she would come right up and undress her.

"If she wakes up enough to ask any questions, don't tell her about the boys not being home, if you can help it," said Mr. Le Bras; "for she might hear her mother when she comes, and tell her the trouble: although I hope they will be back before then."

Mr. Le Bras gave Sue two kisses very soberly as he laid her on the bed, and then hurried down to see Pierre off. As Pierre rode up the shell road, in the darkness and wind and rain, Mr. Le Bras called out, "If you come back alone, go quietly around to the back-door, and I will be on the lookout for you. My wife will probably be home by that time."

In fact, Mrs. Le Bras reached the cottage before Pierre had been gone more than a half-hour. Oliver had put his horses to their best speed on account of the storm. Kate went into the kitchen with Mary, who was delighted to have a companion for the whole summer, and knew, by the first glance she gave at Kate's, good-humored, intelligent face, that they should be great friends. Mrs. Le Bras went immediately to her own room, saying she was never more tired in her life, "and all in having a good time," she added. "I have got my paints all right, and the brushes. It is really a very nice little town, with stores up to the times."

"Did you go to a restaurant and get some supper?" inquired Mr. Le Bras, trying to look unconcerned.

"No: we dared not wait so long. We stopped at a baker's, and got some refreshments, which we ate on the way home. I bought some cookies for the children too. I suppose they came home all tired out?"

"Sue was so tired that she went to sleep at the supper-table," replied Mr. Le Bras.

"And of course Johnny and Felix got home before the rain?"

"I told John to be home by seven, you remember."

"And Johnny is always so prompt. What a good boy he is! Did you give them the extra kisses, my dear?"

"I am afraid they were both lost on Sue, because I carried her up to bed fast asleep."

"I believe you are as sleepy as I am, my dear: your face looks an inch longer than usual, and you have scarcely looked at me all the time I have been talking. Why don't you get ready to go to bed?"

"I must go down and lock the doors first; and I must see Pierre, too, and talk up some plans for to-morrow morning."

"Hasn't Pierre gone to bed?"

"Oh, no!"

"I think I'll just look in on Sue a minute."

Mrs. Le Bras took the lamp, and, stepping softly to Sue's door, opened it, and looked in.

"Just as pretty as ever. I have a great mind to go and look at Johnny in his new room."

"No," said Mr. Le Bras, taking the lamp: "you had better go directly to bed, and let me take the lamp. I am afraid Pierre is waiting for me."

"Very well," replied Mrs. Le Bras, lying down. "You'll be up before long, won't you?"

"Yes. Go to sleep now."

Mr. Le Bras placed the lamp in the lower hall, and then, opening the front-door a little way, put out his head, and listened. He could hear nothing but the wind and rain. Mary stole in from the kitchen, and said, "I haven't told Kate, as you said; but hadn't I better tell Oliver?"

"You get Kate off to bed, and I will tell Oliver."

When Kate had gone, Mr. Le Bras went into the kitchen, and consulted with Oliver. Oliver was sure the boys were safe in some house at the quarry. "An' that's what Pierre'll tell you when he gits back, sir."

"I think so too," said Mr. Le Bras.

At that moment the door opened, and Pierre entered the room.

"Did you find them at the quarry?" asked Mr. Le Bras breathlessly.

Pierre shook his head.

"The men said they took the wrong road, according to the account of the folks at the village, who saw two boys on bicycles turn off the road at the left, just this side of the houses, which leads over by the lighthouse. It seems they asked one of the quarrymen what road to take to come back the other way; and one of them said, 'Turn off at the first road you come to,' supposing they would know enough to turn to the right, and not to the left. But the men say it's all right: the boys would have come out by the lighthouse about the time it began to rain hard, and would stay there, of course, on such a wild night."

"Yes, I suppose they are there," replied Mr. Le Bras. "Even if there could be any less consoling supposition, the storm is now too wild for any further attempt to find them. It is a wonder to me that you got to the Point and back in the wind and darkness. Go to your room at once; and I will come up, by the time you are in bed, and give you some hot ginger-tea."

Pierre said he never took cold, but went to his room, while Oliver went out and put up the horse.

It was agreed that Oliver should get up at daybreak, and go over to the lighthouse, and, if the boys were not there, inquire at any other houses where they could possibly have taken refuge, so that their safety might be known before Mrs. Le Bras awoke in the morning. As for Mr. Le Bras, he spent a sleepless night. But he was grateful for one thing,--his wife slept soundly. He arose early, and, as Mrs. Le Bras was still sleeping, stole downstairs to escape having any questions to answer before Oliver came back from his expedition. Pierre, too, was down-stairs, looking anxious and uneasy. It was a very bright morning as far as the weather was concerned.

"Suppose we walk over towards the lighthouse ourselves," said Mr. Le Bras; "the suspense is getting unendurable; although, of course, they are all right."

So Mr. Le Bras and Pierre started off across lots; and shortly after, Mary and Kate came down to prepare breakfast.

About half way to the lighthouse, they met Oliver coming back, looking blank and sober.

"Haven't you found them?" said Mr. Le Bras, with a sinking heart.

"They was at the lighthouse all right; but they left there about half-past seven, in all that 'ere wind and rain. There wasn't any one at the lighthouse but a little gal, a niece of the keeper; an' she says the smaller of them, that's Johnny, said they must try and git home, and that, if they didn't, they'd come back to the lighthouse: and so they s'posed they was home all right."

"What houses are there about?" inquired Pierre; for Mr. Le Bras seemed unable to speak.

"There ain't none on this road, nor a barn; an' how they could a got away from the road in the storm, an' over the stun walls with their bicycles, I don't see nohow. There's that house, way over yonder; that's the nearest house to this 'ere road: now, 'pears to me they couldn't a got there without flyin' over all them walls."

"If they came this road, they couldn't have got into the water," said Pierre: "I shouldn't wonder if they made their way clear to the end down by the other cottages."

"That may be," said Mr. Le Bras: "let us go right down there. You can go home, Oliver, and Pierre and I will continue the search. If Mrs. Le Bras comes down before we come back, tell her--indeed, what can you tell her? I must try to be back myself. Let us make haste, Pierre!"

Mr. Le Bras and Pierre made inquiries through the whole row of cottages, with all the haste possible; but no one had seen or heard of the missing boys. As they returned home, along the shell road, Mr. Le Bras was silent. He was pale, and walked rapidly. Pierre tried to think of some bright probability regarding Felix and Johnny; but although it seemed unlikely that they could have perished, like the babes in the wood, in a single night, he could picture no place of refuge which they had not searched. The farmhouse only was left; but, as Oliver had said, it would have been next to impossible for them to go across lots and over stone walls to any definite place, that dark and stormy night. Still, he finally suggested to Mr. Le Bras that he might hurry over there and inquire.

"No," replied Mr. Le Bras: "we will go home first, and inform my wife; it cannot be kept from her any longer. And then you and I and Oliver will scour the region in different directions. If nothing serious has happened to the boys, however, they will make their appearance themselves before long. What I am afraid of is that they have been overcome by fatigue and exposure, having been out all night, and are now lying helpless somewhere in the fields or woods."

When they reached the cottage, they entered the front-door. Just then the breakfast-bell rang. Mr. Le Bras paused in the hall to compose himself for the sad task before him. He took off his hat, and wiped his forehead: he tried to look cheerful and unconcerned. Mrs. Le Bras came tripping down-stairs with Sue, in the best of spirits.

"What a lovely morning after the rain!" she said. "How blue the sky and water are! How cheerful the cottage looks! What a delicious sea-breeze! What an appetite we shall have for your blackfish! Isn't it a lovely place, my dear?"

Mr. Le Bras suppressed a groan: he turned away his face, but she did not notice. Sue ran ahead to the dining-room.

Mr. Le Bras had just taken his wife's arm to lead her aside into the parlor, and there break the startling news to her as gently as possible, when Sue was heard saying,--

"You were very bad boys! You didn't get home at seven last night, as you promised; and I am sure papa will make you pay a penalty."

Mr. Le Bras felt giddy, almost faint; but he had presence of mind enough to lead his wife into the dining-room instead of the parlor, and there at the table in their places sat two rosy-cheeked, happy-looking boys, with their eyes brimful of fun and expectancy; although a keen observer might have noticed a shade more of gravity upon Johnny's face than upon Felix's daring countenance.

Pierre, who was standing in the front-door, thinking gloomily, all of a sudden, of the pond just this side of the lighthouse, of which a man at the Point had spoken as a good place to get water-lilies, and wondering if the boys could have stumbled into it, heard Sue's clear, merry voice also; and his heart bounded joyfully as he turned and joined the group in the dining-room.

After grace had been said, Mr. Le Bras began to serve, without saying a word.

"Didn't you get home until after seven?" Mrs. Le Bras asked the boys, as she began to pour out the coffee.

"No, ma'am," replied Johnny, looking curiously at his father: "we didn't get into the house until this morning. We got caught in the rain."

"And so we lodged away from home," added Felix, who could not wait for Johnny to tell it all himself; "but, as it happened, we didn't have to pay any thing for lodging."

"Why!" said Mrs. Le Bras, looking at her husband with some surprise: "why didn't you tell me the boys were staying away from home?"

"As I could not tell you exactly where they were staying, my dear,--although I supposed, that, having got caught in the rain, they were safe with some good family hereabouts,--I thought it best not to tell you until this morning, for fear you would be anxious, and worry about them."

"I presume I should, and you were very kind; although generally I think I should prefer to know, in such a case. But how did it happen, boys, that you were belated, and so did not get home before it rained hard? I am sure I heard Johnny's father tell him to be back by seven. And where did you stay all night? Just to think of it! Why, Johnny was never away from both me and his father for a night before! Yes, I should have been very nervous if I had known it!"

"You had better begin at the beginning, boys," remarked Mr. Le Bras, "and then, by the time you have finished the account, you will have answered all your mother's questions. Let Felix begin first; and when he has got as far as the lighthouse, Johnny may take up the narrative, and complete it."

"What do you know about the lighthouse?" asked Felix.

"Never mind, my boy: tell your story first."

Felix began, and gave the narration with tolerable accuracy. When he came to Johnny's asking him what time it was, Mr. Le Bras said,--