“Not so very queer, either,” replied the father, “considering the good reason you had to forget it. However, we will make just one more look.”
It seemed to Dorothy that the shadows of night came down immediately--she wanted the light so much!
Over small hills and along winding paths they went, Major Dale keeping up with small effort to the light step of his daughter beside him.
“I would be frightened to death if you were not along,” Dorothy took breath to say. “I think this is the most lonely part of all our woodlands.”
“Is that the swamp?” asked the Major, looking toward a deep ravine that indicated a drop in the grade of the forest land.
“Yes,” replied Dorothy, “and the cave is at the other end.”
“Why, there are the ruins of the old Hastings homestead. Queer I never explored these parts, as long as I have been around here. We used to tramp through the Hasting’s farm years ago, but of late I had entirely forgotten the place.”
“The cave is the old ice house, I believe,” said Dorothy. “See, there it is, against that hill.”
“And I just thought I saw something dart through those bushes. See that brush move?”
“Oh, do you suppose it might be tramps?” asked Dorothy, trembling.
“Not likely. Tramps, as a rule, do not move with that speed. It might be a young deer, or--a young girl!”
They were but a few feet away from the cave now, and Dorothy drew back while her father advanced.
“Anybody in there?” he asked gently, fearing that a male voice might alarm the gypsy girl, were she in the old ice house.
“I could almost say that darting figure went in there,” said Major Dale. “Suppose you call, daughter.”
“Urania!” called Dorothy, “Urania, it is only Dorothy and Major Dale. You need not be afraid!”
The Major was close to the door of the cave. It made Dorothy think of the dreadful hour she had hidden there, and how she then feared to answer the call of her friends.
“I heard something. I’ll just take a look--”
Major Dale put his head under the brick arch at the door. “Well, girl--” he exclaimed. “Come out, we are friends.” And the next instant Dorothy, too, was in the cave, standing beside the speechless gypsy girl!
“Oh, come! Hurry, do!” pleaded Dorothy, but the girl neither spoke nor moved.
“Are you ill?” asked the Major, looking around the dark place, hoping to find some means of making a light.