’Good! the Señora and the Doña Elena Alvarez, the nurse and the English girl--that was as the Captain said. Good-evening, ladies. I suppose you have not heard that the young Señor Carlo has returned to the island, and that he is now secreted in the wood?’ ’My nephew is not likely to keep in the woods when we are here,’ said Doña Elena, with great presence of mind. ’That may or may not be; but Captain Morgan is coming back in a few days, Madame, and he sent word that you would all be ransomed or sold as slaves. The young Señor was especially to be well cared for if he landed here. And I fancy I have heard something of such an event.’ Then he added: ’Perhaps that old Spanish woman could tell something about him if we were to ask her questions below.’ Doña Elena rose to her full height. ’You must first kill me before you touch our faithful Catalina. Leave my presence, Monsieur.’ ’Well, well, don’t be angry, Doña Elena: to-morrow is time enough. As for to-night, we will have a hunt with the dogs in the forest and see for ourselves. Good-night, ladies.’ CHAPTER XVIII. HUNTING A FUGITIVE. When Carlo was gone Harry went on with his lesson; and then, feeling somewhat weary after his expedition, he prepared his bed, which preparation consisted merely in fastening up an Indian hammock that Andreas had made for him. And as he did so he could not help thinking of his comfortable bed at home, and of the love which had been his from childhood till the day he was kidnapped. The thought of his parents was always a very sorrowful one to Harry. Ah, if only he could escape! and then, once in England, he would hunt up Etta Allison’s uncle and make him send for his niece. But the ’if’ was not likely to be fulfilled. Next, Harry cooked his supper, and this was also a very simple affair; he lit a tiny fire in a space within the hut between a few bricks, and allowed the smoke to find its way out by a small hole at the side of the hut. After baking his maize cake he quickly extinguished his fire, as smoke was a real element of danger even in this thick forest. As he now ate his very modest meal, thinking over the plenteous fare in the home-farm, he could not help dwelling on the thought of bright-eyed Etta. ’She has the sweetest face I ever clapt eyes on,’ he thought, ’and her hair is like golden light on a thistle-down. How my mother would be made glad with her sweet speecheries! Nay, but when I get back--if God wills I ever do get back--then I will e’en come here again and fetch her away, if so be her uncle will not do it. In truth I will; and then I will ask her to be my wife, and she will be the comforting of the old people, for she has such brave, sweet, winning ways, and has far more courage than the pretty Spanish girl, who could be turned about whichever way the wind blew, and has, besides, no pretty witcheries.’