I heard her telling Thomas once that
she loved to explore, that they must walk down there some Sunday
afternoon; maybe she decided to go alone. I'll stop at the house, and see
if Fred happened to see her pass."
Fred had not; but Mrs. Elliott had; there was little that escaped her
eager eyes.
"My, yes, I see her go tearin' past before the storm so much as begun;
she's sure the queerest actin' widow-woman I ever heard of; Sally says
she goes swimmin' in a bathin'-suit just like a boy's, an' floats an'
dives like a fish--nice actions for a grievin' lady, if you ask me! Do
set a moment, Austin; set down an' tell me about the fire; I ain't had no
details at all, an' I'm feelin' real bad--" But the door had already
slammed behind Austin's hurrying figure.
"Sylvia, Sylvia, where are you?"
He ploughed along for what seemed like endless miles, calling as he went,
and hearing his own voice come back to him, over and over again, like a
mocking spirit. The wind, the rain, and the darkness conspired together
to make what was rough travelling in the daytime almost impassable;
strong as he was, Austin sank down more than once for a few minutes on
some fallen log over which he stumbled.
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