re came no answer.
Something terrible must have happened to Oscar.

CHAPTER VII.

OSCAR LOST--A FRUITLESS SEARCH.

The dead silence that followed, save for the hooting of the storm, was
more terrible, if that could be, than Oscar's scream, for it told of
what? They did not say, but their hearts throbbed out what they feared.

"Oh, Dick! what shall we do?" cried the little girls, clinging to him.

He was a boy so strong, so brave--surely he could think of something.
Well, he did think of something, but that was after they had shouted
"Oscar! Oscar!" till the storm itself seemed the name. This is what he
thought of.

"There is nothing to be done but for me to go and look for him."

It sounded like a miserably forlorn hope, and the girls thought so; for
they clung to him, crying, "Oh, Dick, Dick!" and almost unnerved him.

"Well, I can do no good up here, and it seems heartless to hear that
cry, and not to go a step to see what can be done. You know he ventured
his life for us."

"Yes; but throwing away your life wouldn't save his if--if it isn't
lost," faltered fond little Jenny.

"No," returned her brother; "and, God willing, I don't mean to throw
away my life."

They were silent for a moment, while the storm raved on. I think they
all breathed a sort of wordless prayer, then Dick spoke.

"Now, you girls must stand by each other, and comfort each other; and,
whatever you do, don't sit down and give in to sleep. Good-bye."

There was no wringing of hands; the three could not bear it with that
scream of Oscar ringing in their ears.

He went away, his shadowy figure vanishing in the obscurity almost
immediately, as Oscar's had done. Then the two girls were alone. Shout
after shout rang reassuringly back to them, and they screamed back
theirs in reply. True, Dick's shouts were farther away each time, but no
screams followed; then there came a break, and they heard nothing.
Very, very much alone they were now.

Well, down in the village people were shutting doors, closing shutters,
and heaping up fires, and saying what a cold snowy ending it was to such
a fair day, as they made themselves cosy, little dreaming there were two
small wanderers up on the old Tor in the storm. The two children could
picture it all, and wondered what was doing at the farm: whether they
were in a great fright about them--Mrs. Grant, Dr. Willett, and Mr.
Barlow. Jenny thought too of what they were saying and doing at her
ho