r husband spoke a fierce blast of wind drove the fine sand-like
snow against the windows, and then went shrieking and roaring away over
housetops, gables and chimneys.

"Oh what a dreadful night!" said the lady, leaning forward in her chair
and listening to the wild wail of the storm, while a look of anxiety,
mingled with dread, swept across her face. "If Archie were only at
home!"

"Don't trouble yourself about Archie. He'll be here soon. You are not
yourself to-night, Fanny."

"Perhaps not; but I can't help it. I feel such an awful weight here;"
and Mrs. Voss drew her hands against her bosom.

"All nervous," said her husband. "Come! You must go to bed."

"It will be of no use, Wilmer," returned the lady. "I will be worse in
bed than sitting up. You don't know what a strange feeling has come
over me. Oh, Archie, if you were only at home! Hark! What was that?"

The pale face grew paler as Mrs. Voss bent forward in a listening
attitude.

"Only the wind," answered her husband, betraying some impatience. "A
thousand strange sounds are on the air in a night like this. You must
compose yourself, Fanny, or the worst consequences may follow."

"It's impossible, husband. I cannot rest until I have my son safe and
sound at home again. Dear, dear boy!"

Mr. Voss urged no further. The shadow of fear which had come down upon
his wife began to creep over his heart and fill it with a vague
concern. And now a thought flashed into his mind that he would not have
uttered for the world; but from that moment peace fled, and anxiety for
his son grew into alarm as the time wore on and the boy did not come
home.

"Oh, my husband," cried Mrs. Voss, starting from her chair, and
clasping her hands as she threw them upward, "I cannot bear this much
longer. Hark! That was his voice! _'Mother!' 'Mother!'_ Don't you hear
it?"

Her face was white as the snow without, her eyes wild and eager, her
lips apart, her head bent forward.

A shuddering chill crept along the nerves of Mr. Voss.

"Go, go quickly! Run! He may have fallen at the door!"

Ere the last sentence was finished Mr. Voss was halfway down stairs. A
blinding dash of snow came swirling into his face as he opened the
street door. It was some moments before he could see with any
distinctness. No human form was visible, and the lamp just in front of
his house shone down upon a trackless bed of snow many inches in depth.
No, Archie was not there. The cry had come to the mothe