While the interview was under way, Mr. Layton was busy changing his slippers for his boots, his wrapper for his coat, and his hat was donned just as he spoke the last words.

His sympathy did not expend itself in talk, but the instant he saw what the trouble was he was eager to do all he could to help his suffering friends.  He even reproached himself for having given Nellie permission to meet her brother, though no matter what harm may have befallen her, no one could blame her instructor therefor.

“We must hunt for her,” said Mr. Layton, when he was ready to go out; “I will tell my sisters they need not be alarmed over my absence, and I guess I will take the lantern with me.”

Nick passed out to the front gate, where he waited a minute for the teacher, until he should speak with his friends and get the lantern ready.  When he came forth, the boy felt much like the patient who sees the surgeon take out his instruments and try their edge to make sure they are in condition before using upon him.

The sight of the lantern in the hand of Mr. Layton gave such emphasis to the danger that it caused another quick throb of Nick’s heart, but he forced it down as the two started back over the road, toward the school-house.

“There is no need of lighting the lantern until we get to the woods,” said the teacher, “for we don’t need it, and I hope we won’t need it after we reach the forest.  Poor Nellie! she will feel dreadfully frightened, when she wakes up in the dark forest.”

He regretted the words, for the two or three sobs that escaped the brother, before he could master himself, showed that his heart was swelled nigh to bursting.

The night was mild and pleasant, although a little too chilly for any one to sleep out of doors.  The moon was gibbous, and only a few white, feathery clouds now and then drifted across its face.  Where there was no shadow, one could see for a hundred yards or so with considerable distinctness—­that is, enough to recognize the figure of a man in motion.

Opposite the lane leading to the house of Mr. Kilgore, the teacher stopped.

“I will go in and get him to join us,” said Mr. Layton; “and you had better hurry home for your father.  On your way back, stop for Mr. Marston; that will give us a pretty large party.  If when you reach the forks you do not find us there, don’t wait, but hurry on toward Dunbarton; you will meet us before you reach the bridge over Shark Creek.”

Nick did as told, and, still on a rapid trot, reached home panting and excited, with the story which the reader has just learned.

Mr. Ribsam threw down his pipe, donned his hat and coat, and started out the door.  With his hand on the latch, he paused, and, looking back, commanded his voice so as to say: 

“Katrina, you and Nick needn’t wait up for me.”

“Oh, father,” pleaded the lad, moving toward him:  “would you make me stay at home when Nellie is lost?”