WITH CARL OF THE HILL 43 



greatly distressed and unhappy he did not feel any 

 terrible anxiety — nothing could hurt his little Sun- 

 light ; of that he felt quite sure. But still he ate no 

 supper, and taking a lantern, and giving another to 

 his eldest boy, they started in different directions for 

 the search. The lad returned about one o'clock, 

 completely tired out and with nothing to report. 



As for Carl, he visited every spot where he thought 

 there was the faintest chance of her having gone. He 

 went to a particular bed of Linnaea, the last and finest 

 he had shown her, where he thought she might have 

 gone to gather flowers for to-morrow's fete. He went 

 to the old aspen-tree where was the nest of the black ^ /S^>r 

 woodpecker that Sunlight had been watching, as he 

 knew. He went to the stream where the young otters — 

 were, and a horrible dread for the first time overtook 

 him as he thought she might have fallen in. He 

 swept the pool with the light of his lantern, and once 

 a terrible cry escaped his lips as he fancied he saw the 

 glimmer of a child's white frock. But it was only the 

 foam where it was caught by the willows, and again 

 he turned to try elsewhere. About two o'clock he 

 returned to the hut to see if there was any news. 

 And hearing " none," he said never a word, but started 

 out again. 



