With a sigh Gloria gave up the hope she had cherished of seeing and thanking him in person before leaving the island. Colonel de Crespigney’s boat was waiting, and Laban, who had seen them coming, and joyfully recognized Gloria, was laying on the oars. “Come, my dear,” said the colonel, as he handed his ward to her seat in the stern; “come, make yourself comfortable. Double your sack over your chest. It is a splendid day for late December, but the air is rather keen on the water.” “Oh, Miss Glo’! I’s so glad you’s safe!” cried Laban, grinning from ear to ear. “’Deed we dem over to the house is been almos’ crazy ’bout yer ebber since las’ night, when yer didn’t come home to dinner. And me and Marse Colonel Discrepancy beatin’ de main woods all night long! All de blessed, live-long Christmas Ebe night! And took Fiddle ’long of us and made her smell some o’ yer close, and didn’t she take a round-about ramble t’rough dem woods?” “Did you hunt for me all last night, Marcel, dear?” inquired Gloria, with more tenderness than she had shown him for many weeks. “Yes, my child. Did you suppose, Gloria, that I could have rested one moment, anywhere, from the hour that you were missed until you were found? It was at dinner that, on your non-appearance, I inquired of your maid why you did not come, and was told that you had been gone all day to the main, and had not returned. I had no thought but that you had lost yourself in the woods, and so I set out at once, with Laban here and your little dog Fidelle, and lanterns. The tide was low when we crossed the Neck. The little animal soon struck your trail, and convinced me that I was right. You have been told how she kept us wandering around in a circle all night. In the morning, as a forlorn hope, we returned to the Promontory, took the boat and came to the island to make inquiries.” “Oh! Marcel, dear, I never realized before how much distress my imprudence caused you,” said Gloria, penitently, as she now for the first time observed the ravages that one night’s intense anxiety had wrought in the man’s face. “Yer better beliebe it den, Miss Glo’!” spoke up Laban. “Ef my head hadn’t been gray long afore dis, last night’s doings would a turned it! And dere’s ’Phia, gone to bed long of a sick headache, and ’Mia in de high-strikes.” While this conversation was going on they were rapidly passing over the water between Sandy Isle and the Promontory. With Laban’s last words, the boat grounded on the beach below the sea-wall, and the boatman drew in his oars. “Go on to the house as fast as you can, Laban, and relieve the anxiety of your fellow-servants, so that they may be in a condition to attend Miss Davero when we get home,” said Colonel de Crespigney, as he handed his ward from the boat. The man very gladly obeyed, and ran on before them so rapidly that he was soon out of sight.