"When the sky grow so dark, I take my lantern and go out to my trap I have set this morning.

Then I hear a strange whistle, many times, and I think some one get lost and I cry 'hello,' and you answer and I find mademoiselle and her friends." "That was the Elf's Horn, Jean," replied Tom, "and you heard because you are a hunter." "I know not what monsieur mean by Elf Horn, but I hear whistle, anyhow, and come," remarked the old man, smiling.
The others laughed.
"It's a shame to spoil it," replied David, "but I am afraid your Elf's Horn and Jean's helloing were just a coincidence." "Coincidence or not," replied Tom good-naturedly, "my faith in the fairy horn is now unshakable.

I shall use it again if I ever need to." Before a blazing fire kindled by Jean in the big fireplace, the whole party dried themselves.

The old hunter listened to the story of their mad scramble through the woods with many expressions of sympathy.
It was eight o'clock when the storm had abated sufficiently to allow them to sally forth, and in a short time they were in Oakdale.
Fifteen minutes later they were telling Mr.and Mrs.Harlowe just how it all happened..