direction. It is a golden rule, in such cases, to wait quietly at one's post."
The Bohemian submitted, but he did not look quite satisfied.
"We could call out for the Herr Doctor, at least; he may be close by without knowing it."
They shouted, – first the Bohemian, then Mr Howard, then Kurt. The wood sank back into silence the moment they held their breath. There was not the smallest answering rustle, nor the crackling of trodden twigs, to tell them that they had been heard. Gretchen, as she sat listening, told herself that there was no cause for anxiety, and that presently she should hear the sound of parting branches, for which she was so earnestly listening.
"He may have heard, though he has not answered," said Mr Howard. "Let us hold our tongues for a little. We might as well give him the chance of a holloa."
They did hold their tongues. They all remained as motionless as though they had been lifeless figures grown into the surroundings of the moonlit forest. But Dr Komers apparently had missed his chance, for the answering holloa was not heard.
At last somebody spoke. It was Tolnay. He raised his head and asked –
"Why are we not going home?"
"But we are waiting for Dr Komers," said three voices together.
"To be sure;" and István's head sank down again.
It was Gretchen who spoke next –
"Where did you leave Dr Komers exactly?"
"I left him within thirty paces of the hole."
Then silence fell again upon the waiting group. These intervals of silence were beginning to be dangerously suggestive. The intentness with which Gretchen sat listening for the sound of the bushes rustling was becoming irksome to herself. The strain grew with every second: from irksome it grew to be painful, and from painful it became torturing. Not even to herself would she acknowledge the creeping fear which, she knew not how, had slunk into her heart, and which was slowly encircling it with an icy band. She would not even look at her brother nor at Mr Howard, for fear of reading in their eyes something which would strengthen the suspicion within her.
It is not possible to determine at what point exactly a fear of this sort becomes alive. Often when we are scarcely yet aware that the seed has been sown, the plant is already growing fast. By this time they were all persuading themselves that they had not sat waiting and listening for so very long, arid that there really was no reason for avoiding each other's eyes in the way they were unconsciously doing. And yet they did avoid a direct look: they stared at the bushes, at the tree-trunk, at everything but each other's faces. And so sharpened do our perceptions become in moments of suspense, that there was no member of the party who could not have stood a close examination as to the exact number of tree-stems within sight, or who could not from memory have accurately drawn the outline of that clump of bushes to the right.
That black bottomless hole was in everybody's mind, and no one had the courage to name it. The silence was unbearable; yet each felt that he would rather not be the first to break it. The first word said must be an acknowledgment of their secret fear – and it is
