"Our absence will not be observed till sunrise," Dick observed. "The time spent in seeking us on the island, and in providing some substitute for the bridles, will give us twelve or fourteen hours which we must profit by to get away as far as possible."
"I ask nothing better," Harry said; "but, before starting, we must choose our road."
"Oh!" Ellen said, "the direction we must follow is easily settled: we must only go straight to the northwest."
"Be it so," the hunter went on; "one direction is as good as another. Our principal object is to get off as soon as possible: but why northwest rather than any other quarter of the wind?"
Ellen smiled.
"Because," she said, "a friend you know—the Indian chief who formed part of the band—left the camp before us, in order to warn his warriors, and bring us help in the event of an attack."
"Well thought of," the hunter said. "Let us be off, and not spare our horses, for on their speed our safety depends."
Each bowed over the neck of the horses. The little party started with the speed of an arrow in a northwestern direction, as had been agreed on. The four riders soon disappeared in the darkness; the footsteps of their horses ceased to re-echo on the hardened ground, and all fell back into silence.
The gambusinos were peacefully sleeping on the island.