He buried his face on his arms with a sob that seemed as if it would tear him to pieces.
“You must not write yet to your father,” said Mr Stanforth. “I do not give up hope. Courage, my boy!”
Suddenly a loud scream rang through the house, and an outburst of voices, and one raised joyously,—
“My brother—my brother—are you here?—we are safe!” and as Cherry started to his feet Alvar, followed by Jack, rushed into the room, and clasped him in his arms.
“Safe! yes, the abominable, idiotic brutes of soldiers! But we’re all right, Cherry. You mustn’t mind now.”
“Yes, we are here, and it is over.”
“Thank Heaven for His great mercy!” cried Mr Stanforth, almost bursting into tears as he grasped Alvar’s hand.
“Bandits, bandits?” cried half-a-dozen voices.
But Cherry could not speak a word; he only put out his hand and caught Jack’s, as if to feel sure of his presence also.
“Mi querido,” said Alvar in his gentle, natural tones, “all the terror is over—now you can rest. I think you had better go, Jack. I will take care of him,” he added.