"I was back in three minutes, but she was gone. I called--loudly enough--but there was no answer! I rushed back to the house, and have since been hunting all over the place--upper rooms, lower rooms, kitchen, and all! The servants know nothing about Emmie, but are looking for her in every corner!" "The grounds must be searched with torches without a moment's delay," cried the father, loudly ringing the bell of the study. Bruce hurried to the door with such anxious haste that he almost came into collision with--Emmie! "Here she comes herself, our wandering fairy, to give an account of her doings!" he cried, drawing back to let Emmie pass him and enter the lighted apartment. "She has only been playing at hide-and-seek." Bruce spoke gaily, but almost before the last word had left his lips his manner changed, for he looked on his sister, and saw at a glance that no mirthful frolic had caused her late disappearance. Had the poor heroine of the story of the oaken-chest contrived by some superhuman effort to burst her living tomb, even in such ghastly guise might she have appeared before her wondering friends. Emmie had entered the study with rapid steps; she now threw herself into the arms of her father, and buried her face on his breast, as if seeking for protection and safety. The poor girl uttered no sound, but her bosom heaved convulsively, and her clinging hands trembled as if with ague. Emmie's scarlet shawl had fallen back on her shoulders, and over it flowed her dishevelled hair. Emmie's attitude was so expressive of terror, that she might have been deemed some fugitive who had barely escaped with life from some scene of slaughter. "My child--my sweet child--what ails you? what has happened to alarm you thus?" said Mr. Trevor soothingly, while Bruce dismissed the servants, who had, in a body, answered the summons of the bell, only bidding Susan bring a glass of cold water. "Emmie has merely had some little fright," he said to himself, as he returned to the table. But that the fright had been no little one was but too evident when Emmie raised her head, and turned her face to the light. Her countenance was colourless, even to the lips, and ghastly as that of a corpse, whilst her eyes stared wildly, with the pupils dilated, as if seeking some object of terror. Mr. Trevor made his daughter sit down close by his side, and put his arm fondly around her, whilst with his left hand he gently stroked and chafed Emmie's icy-cold fingers. "My poor little trembling dove, what has frightened you so?" he inquired. Emmie's lip quivered, but she was unable to speak. "I'm sure that I'm monstrously sorry that I left you for a moment!" cried Vibert. "I'm a thoughtless fellow, I own; but no harm could possibly have come to you, if you had quietly remained where you stood. Where did you hide that I could not find you? Surely you must have heard me calling your name?" Emmie shivered, but gave no reply.