Mr. Hardy had just taken his coffee, and was standing at the door, looking with a pleased eye upon the signs of comfort and prosperity around him. There was no need, therefore, for them to approach nearer. As Mr. Hardy looked round upon hearing the gate shut, Charley beckoned to him to come down to them. For a moment he seemed puzzled, and looked round to see if the signal was directed to himself. Seeing that no one else was near him, he again looked at the boys, and Charley earnestly repeated the gesture. Mr. Hardy, feeling that something strange was happening, ran down the steps and hurried towards them. By the time he reached them, he had no need to ask questions. Hubert was leaning upon the gate, crying as if his heart would break; Charley stood with his hand on his lips, as if to check the sobs from breaking out, while the tears streamed down his cheeks. 'Ethel?' Mr. Hardy asked. Charley nodded, and then said, with a great effort, 'The Indians have burnt the estancia; one of the men has escaped and brought the news. We know nothing more. Perhaps she is carried off, not killed.' Mr. Hardy staggered under the sudden blow. 'Carried off!' he murmured to himself. 'It is worse than death.' 'Yes, papa,' Charley said, anxious to give his father's thoughts a new turn. 'But we will rescue her, if she is alive, wherever they may take her.' 'We will, Charley; we will, my boys,' Mr. Hardy said earnestly, and rousing himself at the thought 'I must go up and break it to your mother; though how I shall 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?'