afety, and the best ones put on. Stone
walls, very likely, sheltered a good many well-worn little shoes, of
a Puritan Sabbath, that their prudent owners might appear in the
House of God trimly shod. Ah! these beautiful, new peaked-toed,
high-heeled shoes of Ann's--what would she have said to walking in
them _all_ the way to meeting!

If that Sunday was an eventful one to Ann Wales, so was the week
following. The next Tuesday, right after dinner, she was up in a
little unfinished chamber over the kitchen, where they did such work
when the weather permitted, carding wool. All at once, she heard
voices down below. They had a strange inflection, which gave her
warning at once. She dropped her work and listened: "What _is_ the
matter?" thought she.

Then there was a heavy tramp on the stairs, and Captain Abraham
French stood in the door, his stern weather-beaten face white and
set. Mrs. Polly followed him, looking very pale and excited.

"When did you see anything of our Hannah?" asked Captain French,
controlling as best he could the tremor in his resolute voice.

Ann rose, gathering up her big blue apron, cards, wool and all. "Oh,"
she cried, "not since last Sabbath, at meeting! What is it?"

"She's lost," answered Captain French. "She started to go up to her
Aunt Sarah's Monday forenoon; and Enos has just been down, and they
haven't seen anything of her." Poor Captain French gave a deep groan.

Then they all went down into the kitchen together, talking and
lamenting. And then, Captain French was galloping away on his gray
horse to call assistance, and Ann was flying away over the fields,
blue apron, cards, wool and all.

"O, Ann!" Mrs. Polly cried after, "where are you going?"

"I'm going--to find--_Hannah!_" Ann shouted back, in a shrill,
desperate voice, and kept on.

She had no definite notion as to where she was going; she had only
one thought--Hannah French, her darling, tender little Hannah French,
her friend whom she loved better than a sister, was lost.

A good three miles from the Wales home was a large tract of rough
land, half swamp, known as "Bear Swamp." There was an opinion, more
or less correct, that bears might be found there. Some had been shot
in that vicinity. Why Ann turned her footsteps in that direction, she
could not have told herself. Possibly the vague impression of
conversations she and Hannah had had, lingering in her mind, had
something to do with it. Many a time the two little girls