"
"All right," said the boy.
"On second thoughts take me to papa; I'll be by his side, and then they
cannot."
"You want to walk through the wood? that is a good joke. Why, it is
like walking through a river, and the young wood slapping your eyes,
for you can't see every twig by this light, and the leaves sponging
your face and shoulders: and the briers would soon strip your gown into
ribbons, and make your little ankles bleed. No, you are a lady; you
stay where you are, and let us men work it. We shan't find him yet
awhile. I must get near the governor. When we find my lord, I'll give a
whistle you could hear a mile off."
"Oh, Reginald, are you sure he is in the wood?"
"I'd bet my head to a chany orange. You might as well ask me, when I
track a badger to his hole, and no signs of his going out again,
whether old long-claws is there. I wish I was as sure of never going
back to school as I am of finding that little lot. The only thing I
don't like is, the young muff's not giving us a halloo back. But, any
way, I'll find 'em, _alive or dead."_
And, with this pleasing assurance, the little imp scudded off, leaving
the mother glued to the spot with terror.
For full an hour more the torches gleamed, though fainter and fainter;
and so full was the wood of echoes, that the voices, though distant,
seemed to halloo all round the agonized mother.
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