and the fog is rising."

Keziah tripped upstairs lightly enough, but speedily came down with
a grave face.

"She is not there," was her answer to Jacob's glance of inquiry.
"What must we do? If we make a coil about it, and she comes in,
having only gossiped awhile with the neighbours along the bridge,
aunt will surely chide her sharply, and send her to bed supperless.
But if she should have met some mischance--" and Keziah broke off,
looking frightened enough, for it was no light matter to meet
mischance alone and unprotected in the dark.

"I will go forth to seek her," cried Jacob, with unwonted
animation. "It boots not for a man to be abroad after dark, but for
a maid it is an ill tiding indeed. Which way went she? to the osier
beds! Sure I must find her ere long. Were it not well for me to go,
good Kezzie?"

"I would that some would go, but I trow thou hadst better not
adventure thyself alone. Belike Master Walter would be thy
companion. If there be peril abroad, it is better there should be
twain than one. And you will want lanterns and stout staffs, too."

"Run thou and light the lanterns, good coz, and I will to Walter
and ask his company. It grows thicker and darker every moment. If
Cherry be not within, it behoves us to make search for her."

Keziah's face was pale with terror as she flew to do Jacob's
bidding. She had a terrible fear of London streets, at night, as
well she might, and the open country beyond was even worse to her
excited imagination. And Cherry was so pretty, so simple, so
credulous, and withal so utterly defenceless should there be any
sort of attack made upon her. Keziah's hands shook as she lighted
the lantern; and as minutes were fast slipping away and still there
was no sign of the truant, she was rather relieved than terrified
to hear the sharp accents of her aunt's voice mingling with her
father's deeper tones as the whole party came tramping down the
stairs. It was plain that Jacob had let the secret ooze out, and
that all the company had become alarmed. Cherry's name was on all
lips, and Martin was asking his sister somewhat sternly why she had
overlooked the non-return of the girl at dusk.

Miss Susan was sharply defending herself on the score of her
manifold duties and Cherry's well-known gadding propensities. She
never looked to see her home before dusk, as she was certain to
stay out as long as she dared, and since then she had taken it for
granted that the little hussy h