l do so, I know not. Do you give what orders
you like for collecting our friends. First, though, let us question this
man. When was it?'

'Last night, Signor, at eleven o'clock. I had just laid down in my hut,
and I noticed that there were still lights down-stairs at the house,
when, all of a sudden, I heard a yell as of a thousand fiends, and I
knew the Indians were upon us. I knew that it was too late to fly, but I
threw myself out of the window, and laid flat by the wall, as the
Indians burst in. There were eight of us, and I closed my ears to shut
out the sound of the other's cries. Up at the house, too, I could hear
screams and some pistol-shots, and then more screams and cries. The
Indians were all round, everywhere, and I dreaded lest one of them
should stumble up against me. Then a sudden glare shot up, and I knew
they were firing the house. The light would have shown me clearly
enough, had I remained where I was; so I crawled on my stomach till I
came to some potato ground a few yards off. As I lay between the rows,
the plants covered me completely. In another minute or two the men's
huts were set fire to, and then I could hear a great tramping, as of
horses and cattle going away in the distance. They had not all gone, for
I could hear voices all night, and Indians were moving about everywhere,
in search of any one who might have escaped. They came close to me
several times, and I feared that they would tread on me. After a time
all became quiet; but I dared not move till daylight. Then, looking
about carefully, I could see no one, and I jumped up, and never stopped
running until you met me.'

Mr. Hardy now went up to the house, to break the sad tidings to his
wife. Charley ordered eight peons to saddle horses instantly, and, while
they were doing so, he wrote on eight leaves of his pocket-book: 'The
Mercers' house destroyed last night by Indians; the Mercers killed or
carried off. My sister Ethel with them. For God's sake, join us to
recover them. Meet at Mercer's as soon as possible. Send this note round
to all neighbours.'

One of these slips of paper was given to each peon, and they were told
to ride for their lives in different directions, for that Miss Ethel was
carried off by the Indians.

This was the first intimation of the tidings that had arrived, and a
perfect chorus of lamentation arose from the women, and of execrations
of rage from the men. Just at this moment Terence came running down from