I'm positive of it!" said the boy, plunging
forward.

"Stand still, and listen again," said Wraysford; "we may be going all
wrong."

It was all he could do to keep the younger boy still for a few seconds.
What ages those seconds seemed!

A voice somewhere? No, only Mr Rastle and Roach coming up behind.

"Well?" inquired the master, breathlessly.

"Hush!" said Stephen, turning his head to the wind to listen.

What a wind it was! Surely it would beat any voice to shreds!

"We may as well go on," said the boy, impatiently.

"Wait a second or two longer," said Wraysford.

Scarcely had he spoken when, joyous sound! there came on the wind from
somewhere what sounded like a feeble shout!

In an instant all four bounded forward and were once more lost in the
storm.

But they had hope, and every moment, a night like this, was precious.
They groped down the garden walk, and towards the meadow, shouting as
they went. Then presently they halted again and listened.

Yes there was the call again, and nearer. Thank Heaven! they were on
the right track. On they went once more. Another shout! Nearer still!

Oh, for a lull in the tempest, that they might give one shout back!

"Try," said Mr Rastle, "they may hear it. Here, Roach, come and
shout--one, two, three, and a--"

What a shout it was! The wind got hold of it as if it had been a
sparrow's twitter, and tossed it mockingly over their heads and far away
behind them, who knows where? "It's no go," said Wraysford. "Hullo,
here's the meadow ditch. Hadn't we better follow it up and down?
Stephen and I will take the left."

Once more, as they turned, a shout!

"Oh, be quick!" cried Stephen. "Where does it come from? Come, Wray,
quick!"

They might as well have tried to fly as run against that wind; but they
crawled rapidly forward.

Suddenly, close at their side, rose the shout again. With a bound the
two boys were over the ditch, and in another moment a fourfold shout
proclaimed that the wanderers were found!

Oliver and Loman were crouching under a tree, the former without coat or
waistcoat, which he had thrown round the shivering and now senseless
form of his companion.

It was no time for words, either of joy or explanation; time enough for
that when every one was safe indoors. Mr Rastle and Roach between them
carried Loman, while Oliver, in scarcely better plight, was helped along
by his brother and friend.

"Is it far?" he asked, faintly.