As to the character of the country through which we passed, I cannot
describe it. I know that there were palm trees, and prickly pears, and
other strange shrubs, and rocks covered with creepers, and here and
there fields of corn and plantations of fruit trees. We saw but few
people, and those women, children, or old men, who fled at our approach
to hide themselves. Onwards we pushed, regardless of enemies who might
be gathering behind--eager only to find the captives and to place them
in our midst, when we were prepared to fight our way back against any
odds which might oppose us.

My heart bounded as if it would choke me when, on gaining the top of a
hill, Lieutenant Aylett exclaimed, pointing ahead--

"There's old Mustapha's house!" but the next instant a sickening feeling
came over me, as I dreaded lest those we hoped to find might have been
removed. Without halting for an instant, we rushed down the slope, and
so divided our force that we might surround the building. Orders had
been given that not a shot should be fired lest we should wound our
friends. In silence we dashed on, until we were close to the gates,
when Lieutenant Aylett cried out--

"Open, open; we come as friends."

The bars were withdrawn, the gate swung back, when instead of a turbaned
Moor, who should we see but old Margaret! She recognised us at once, as
we grasped hands.

"Where are my father and sister?" exclaimed Lancelot.

"Where is my dear Audrey?" I cried.

Before she could reply there arose such a shrieking and shouting from
the farther end of the hall that we could scarcely hear her speak.

"Mr Kerridge is there," she at length said, pointing through an opening
into the garden, "and the young ladies are with Mrs Mustapha and the
other women who are making all that hubbub there."

"Run, good Margaret, and tell them we are here," I exclaimed, while
Lancelot, like a dutiful son, rushed out into the garden in search of
his father.

Scarcely had he gone than the door at the other end of the hall opened,
and two young boys, as they seemed, sprang towards us, followed by
Margaret. The next instant I had Audrey in my arms, and was holding the
hand of Mistress Cicely. In spite of their disguise and sunburnt
cheeks, I knew them directly, and in a few words explained how we had
come to rescue them. They were less astonished than we expected, for
the sound of firing had reached their ears, and they guessed that either
the tow