So, as he went on, Pat allowed Bart to go gradually farther and farther ahead, until at length he was out of sight. But even then he was not satisfied. He still kept on, but chose a course which swerved slightly from the one which the others were following; and entering upon this course, he sought to make it more and more apart from the track of the others. As he went along he kept constantly turning to the right, and thus before long he had made a complete circuit; and then, when he thought he had turned far enough to be heading towards the place from which he set out, he tried to go in a straight line. In all this he was completely successful; that is to say, so far as concerned his desire not to be noticed; and so he kept on for so long a time that at length he began to be on the lookout for the open land and the sea. But suddenly there was a loud cry behind him,-- “Hyar, Hyar! you dar! Whar Mas’r Bart?” It was Solomon. Pat had forgotten all about Solomon; but now he remembered that Solomon had been behind him, and he saw that he must have been following him all the time, though he had been too excited to be conscious of that important fact. XV. _Solomon in a Rage.--Flight of Pat.--The Explorers penetrate the Forest.--The missing Companions.--New Fears and Anxieties.--A baffled Search.--Onward.--The Recesses of the Forest.--An open Space.--Halt!_ YAR, Hyar! you dar! Whar Mas’r Bart?” The cry at once arrested Pat. He stopped short, and turning round he found himself face to face with Solomon. “Whar Mash Bart?” said Solomon again. He was excited and agitated, and looked all around, and peered into the forest ahead with most anxious curiosity. “Bart?” said Pat, in a dejected tone; “sure an I don’t know.” “Warn’t you follerin him?” cried Solomon, in an excited voice. “Sure an I wor,” said Pat; “but I lost sight of him iver an iver so long ago. An wheriver he is now, it ud take more’n me to tell.” At this Solomon made a gesture of despair, and looked wildly all around. “Mas’r Bart lost! Mas’r Bart lost!” he murmured, clutching his wrinkled hands together. “Och, you needn’t bother about him. Sure an he’s follerin the praste an the Frinchmin, an he’s all safe an right. The last time I see him he was close on the hails of the praste.” Solomon did not seem to have heard him. His eyes rolled wildly. He looked all around eagerly, wistfully, with unspeakable anxiety in his face. “Mas’r Bart lost! Mas’r Bart lost!” he murmured, still wringing his hands. “But I till ye he ain’t lost,” cried Pat. “He’s wid the praste, so he is. Didn’t I see him?”