All the evening and half the night she was literally dancing with
suspense, intermingled with fits of despair that reduced her, while they
lasted, to a state of absolute collapse. Before midnight all Valpré knew
that the little English _demoiselle_ was missing, and all Valpré scoured
the shore for her in vain. Some of the fishermen put out in boats and
continued the search by moonlight as near the rocks as it was possible to
go. But all to no purpose.

When the moon went down, they abandoned the quest; but at dawn, when the
tide was on the turn, they were out again, searching, searching for a
white, drowned face and a mass of red-brown hair. But the sea only
laughed in the sunlight and revealed no secrets.

Mademoiselle was quite prostrate by that time. She lay in a darkened room
with her head swathed in a black shawl, and called upon all the holy
saints to witness that she had always predicted this disaster.

Chris's two young brothers slept fitfully, waking now and then to assure
each other uneasily that of course she would turn up sooner or later
sound in wind and limb; she always did.

Noel, the younger, who was more or less in Chris's confidence, gave it as
his opinion that she had eloped with someone, that officer-chap she met
the other day, he'd lay a wager! But Maxwell poured contempt upon the
bare suggestion. Chris--elope with a Frenchman! He could as easily see
himself eloping with the Goat--a pet name that he and his brother had
bestowed upon Mademoiselle Gautier, and which fitted her rather well upon
occasion.