Wildtree Towers had been thrown into a state of unmistakable panic when,
at the usual hour of retiring for the night, Percy had not put in an
appearance. His absence at dinner-time agitated no one but his mother;
and the search instituted at her bidding began languidly, and with the
usual assurance of a speedy discovery. But as hour passed hour and no
tidings came, things began to look serious, and even Walker pulled a
long face.
Midnight came, and still no tidings. Appleby came up to the house for a
lantern, but had nothing to report beyond the fact that the search so
far had been unsuccessful. The minutes dragged on for the unhappy
watchers. It was harder far for them to sit there in the hall,
listening to the unsympathetic tick of the clock and starting at every
sound on the gravel without, than it was for the father to tramp through
the woods and trace the footsteps along the river's bank.
At last the clock struck two, and scarcely had the chimes ceased, when
Walker put up his finger, and exclaimed,--
"Hist!"
A moment of terrible silence ensued. Then on their quickened hearing
there came a distant rumble of wheels. Almost at the same instant
footsteps came tearing up the gravel drive. It was Appleby, who rushed
into the midst of the group assembled on the doorstep.
"All right--he's found!" gasped the lad.
"Is he alive?" cried the mother.
"On a cart!" exclaimed the panting Appleby.
Mrs Rimbolt gave a little shriek, and fell into her husband's arms.
Raby, nerved by the very agony of the suspense, rushed out and ran down
the drive to meet the cart.
"Is Percy there?" she cried.