he occasion, the absence of the two boys was not
noticed; and it was not until after the conclusion of the rite, that
Ernest, happening to enter Frank's sleeping room, to ask some casual
question of him, saw the note left on the table. As soon as he had read
it, he repaired to his friend's apartment, and the two held an anxious
consultation as to the course which, under the circumstances, it would
be most expedient for them to pursue. De Walden knew--what none of the
three lads could surmise--how great was the danger incurred by the
truants, and how slender the hope of their succeeding in carrying out
their projected scheme. They must be pursued, and overtaken, and warned
of their peril, whatever might be the risk or fatigue incurred by so
doing. If, after such warning, they persisted in their rash enterprise,
they could not, of course, be prevented from pursuing it; but the blame
would then rest wholly with themselves.

They were still engaged in arranging their plans for immediate pursuit,
when Ella entered the room where they were seated, with tidings which
were even more unexpected than those they had that morning received.

"My father," she said--so she always addressed De Walden--"the visitors
you and Ernest have been so long expecting, have arrived, and are now
with my mother. Will you come and see them?"

"The visitors, Ella!" exclaimed Warley, starting up. "Whom can you
mean?--not Lavie surely--"

"Yes, he is one," returned Ella, "and there is a captain, an English
captain. He is Frank's father or uncle--"

"Captain Wilmore!" cried Warley. "Has he fallen in with Frank?"

"No, we have told him that he and Gilbert have gone off by themselves,
and that they cannot be very far off, and he means to go in search of
them, I believe. But he wants to see you first."

De Walden and Ernest hastened to the Queen's apartment, and were soon
exchanging a cordial grasp of the hand with the new-comers.

"God be praised for this!" said the missionary. "You cannot think how
anxious I have been about you, Charles, though I did not tell the lads
so. Unwilling as I was to leave this place, I had fully resolved that
if the present month should pass without tidings of you, I would set off
with them for Cape Town. I wish now I had told them of my intention; it
would no doubt have prevented this foolish escapade of theirs. I knew I
could trust Ernest to remain quiet, and I thought I could trust the
others."

"You