Mrs. Moodie, what is the matter? You are early abroad
this morning, and look dreadful ill. Is anything wrong at home?
Is the baby or your husband sick?"
"Oh!" I cried, bursting into tears, "I fear he is killed by the
wolves."
The man stared at me, as if he doubted the evidence of his senses,
and well he might; but this one idea had taken such strong
possession of my mind that I could admit no other. I then told him,
as well as I could find words, the cause of my alarm, to which he
listened very kindly and patiently.
"Set your heart at rest; your husband is safe. It is a long journey
on foot to Mollineux, to one unacquainted with a blazed path in a
bush road. They have stayed all night at the black man's shanty,
and you will see them back at noon."
I shook my head and continued to weep.
"Well, now, in order to satisfy you, I will saddle my mare, and ride
over to the nigger's, and bring you word as fast as I can."
I thanked him sincerely for his kindness, and returned, in somewhat
better spirits, to the house. At ten o'clock my good messenger
returned with the glad tidings that all was well.
The day before, when half the journey had been accomplished, John
Monaghan let go the rope by which he led the cow, and she had broken
away through the woods, and returned to her old master; and when
they again reached his place, night had set in, and they were
obliged to wait until the return of day.
