r
feet with the force of an idea that had come to her. She would take the
carriage and Jabez, and drive very slowly and carefully by another road
straight back to Helbarrow Tors. They would inquire at every house they
passed, and--only she did not tell Jabez this, for fear of alarming
him--if need be, they would search even the tors themselves.

It would be very difficult, she knew; but what did difficulties matter
at such a time as this? With Anna lost on such a night, her father and
aunt away, and she alone responsible, they must do something, they must,
they must, and quickly too. She looked at the clock; it was only seven.
There was just a chance that they might find Anna and have her home in
warmth and safety by ten. She ran to the kitchen and broached her plan
to Jabez. He winced at the prospect, but raised no objection.
Indeed, they were all too greatly alarmed to object to anything.
Jabez had been picturing Anna in turn killed, walking into the water,
stolen, wandering about lost and crying for help, so he could hardly
refuse his help in rescuing her from one of these fates.

In a very short time Prue was harnessed, and with Kitty beside him, and
a pile of rugs and wraps, Jabez was driving off at a good pace, while
those at home prepared fires and hot blankets and everything else they
could think of.

But many long, weary hours elapsed before the fires and the hot blankets
were needed, and the next day was dawning, bleak and cold, when at last,
to the intense relief and excitement of the weary watchers, old Prue's
step was heard coming quickly down the street, and the two servants flew
out to the door. But Jabez drove straight round to the yard with his
load, and there, with the help of Kitty and Dan--who was with them--they
lifted down a big still bundle, which was Anna, wet through, worn out,
unconscious. They carried her in very tenderly and put her to bed at
once, and everything they could do for her ease and comfort they did.
But though her strength revived and the dreadful exhaustion passed away,
it was soon evident that she was ill--very ill, it seemed to them--and
Fanny in alarm ran for Dr. Lang; and at his request telegrams were sent
to Dr. Trenire and Aunt Pike, bidding them come home at once; while poor
Kitty, overcome with fatigue and anxiety and remorse that this should
have happened while she was in charge of them all, went and shut herself
up in her room, locking out even Betty.

The s