My
feelings when I reached home require another chapter to describe them,
and I must summon courage for the task.
* * * * *
CHAPTER XLVII
We soon arrived at Family Bridge, where I had some hopes of meeting
Francis, and perhaps his mother, who was beginning to walk very well;
but I was disappointed--they were not there. Yet I was not uneasy, for
they were neither certain of the hour of our return, nor of the way we
might take. I expected, however, to find them in the colonnade--they
were not there. I hastily entered the house; I called aloud, "Elizabeth!
Francis! where are you?" No one answered. A mortal terror seized me--and
for a moment I could not move.
"They will be in the grotto," said Ernest.
"Or in the garden," said Fritz.
"Perhaps on the shore," cried Jack; "my mother likes to watch the waves,
and Francis may be gathering shells."
These were possibilities. My sons flew in all directions in search of
their mother and brother. I found it impossible to move, and was obliged
to sit down. I trembled, and my heart beat till I could scarcely
breathe. I did not venture to dwell on the extent of my fears, or,
rather, I had no distinct notion of them. I tried to recover myself. I
murmured, "Yes--at the grotto, or the garden--they will return
directly.
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