The Squire found that duty was a cold comforter as the wretched hours
wore on.
Sanderson had slunk from the house without a word immediately after
Anna's departure. In the general upheaval no one missed him, and when
they did it was too late for them to enjoy the comfort of shifting the
blame to his guilty shoulders.
The professor followed Kate with the mute sympathy of a faithful dog;
he did not dare attempt to comfort her. The sight of a woman in tears
unnerved him; he would not have dared to intrude on her grief; he could
only wait patiently for some circumstance to arise in which he could be
of assistance. In the meantime he did the only practical thing within
his power--he went about from time to time, poked the fires and put on
coal.
Marthy would have liked to discuss the iniquity of Lennox Sanderson
with any one--it was a subject on which she could have spent hours--but
no one seemed inclined to divert Marthy conversationally. In fact, her
popularity was not greater that night in the household than that of the
Squire. She spent her time in running from room to room, exclaiming
hysterically: "Land sakes! Ain't it dreadful?"
The tension grew as time wore on without developments of any kind, the
waiting with the haunting fear of the worst grew harder to bear than
absolute calamity.
Toward five o'clock the Squire announced his intention of going out and
continuing the search, and this time no one objected. In fact, Mrs.
Bartlett, Kate and the professor insisted on accompanying him and
Marthy decided to go, too, not only that she might be able to say she
was on hand in case of interesting developments, but because she was
afraid to be left in the house alone.
* * * * * *
Toward morning, David, spent and haggard, wandered into a little
maple-sugar shed that belonged to one of the neighbors. Smoke was
coming out of the chimney, and David entered, hoping that Anna might
have found here a refuge.
He was quickly undeceived, however, for Lennox Sanderson stood by the
hearth warming his hands. The men glared at each other with the
instinctive fierceness of panthers. Not a word was spoken; each knew
that the language of fists could be the only medium of communication
between them; and each was anxious to have his say out.
The men faced each other in silence, the flickering glare of the
firelight painting grotesque expressions on their set faces. David's
greater bulk loomed unnaturally large in the uncertain light, while
every trained muscle of Sanderson's athletic body was on the alert.