Mr. Hardy then retired with his wife—who had been looking on anxiously while these orders were being given—into their own room, where they remained about ten minutes. When they came back into the sitting-room Mrs. Hardy was pale, but composed, and the children could see that she had been crying.
‘Your mamma and I have been talking the matter over, boys, and I have told her that I must do my best to get some, at least, of our animals back. I shall take you both with me. It is unfortunate that two of our friends at Canterbury have ridden over early this morning to Mr. Percy’s, and will not be back until late to-night. Had they been at home, they would, I know, have joined us. I thought at first of sending over for Mr. Farquhar, who is at home, but I do not like losing the time. I shall send Lopez over with a note, asking him to come and sleep here to-night. We shall not be back till to-morrow. There is no fear of another alarm to-day; still I shall be more comfortable in knowing that you have some one with you. Do not go beyond the enclosure, girls, until we return. Terence, too, is to remain inside, and can sleep in the house to-night; so also can Lopez. You will therefore be well protected. Let us have something to eat, and then in ten minutes we will be in the saddle. Charley, fetch down three blue-lights, two signal rockets, and two of the tin rockets. Maud, fill our pocket-flasks with brandy. Hubert, you boys will each take your carbine and a revolver; I will carry my long rifle, and the other two Colts.’
In ten minutes they were ready to mount, and after a final embrace, and many a ‘Be sure and take care of yourselves’ from their mother and sisters, they started off across the plain at a long, steady gallop.
‘They have got just an hour’s start, boys,’ Mr. Hardy said. ‘Your mother said that it was exactly half an hour from the first alarm to my arrival, and I was in the house a minute or two under that time. It is about half past twelve now.’
‘It is very fortunate, papa, that we had our horses safe up at the house.’
‘Yes, boys. If we had been obliged to wait until to-morrow morning before starting, our chance of coming up would have been very slight. As it is, we shall be up with them in three or four hours. The sheep cannot go really fast more than twelve or fifteen miles, especially with their heavy fleeces on.’
Half an hour’s riding took them to the scene of the attack. As they neared it, they saw two figures lying upon the grass. There was no occasion to go near: the stiff and distorted attitudes were sufficient to show that they were dead.
Mr. Hardy purposely avoided riding close to them, knowing that the shocking sight of men who have met with a violent death is apt to shake the nerves of any one unaccustomed to such a sight, however brave he may be.
‘They are evidently dead, poor fellows!’ he said. ‘It is no use our stopping.’
Charley looked at the bodies with a fierce frown upon his face, and muttered to himself, ‘We’ll pay them out for you, the cowardly scoundrels.’