"God save you, my lord!"
Glenarvan and Thalcave had scarcely time to perceive Robert, who, clinging to the horse's mane, disappeared in the darkness.
"Robert, unfortunate!" cried Glenarvan.
But these words the Indian himself could not hear. Frightful howls resounded. The wolves, starting on the track of the horse, fled into the darkness with a terrible speed.
Thalcave and Glenarvan rushed out of the ramada. Already the plain had resumed its tranquillity, and they could scarcely distinguish a moving line which undulated afar in the shadows of the night.
Glenarvan sank upon the ground, overcome, in despair, clasping his hands. He gazed at Thalcave, who smiled with his accustomed calmness.
"Thaouka—good horse—brave child—he will be saved!" he repeated, nodding his head.
"But if he falls?" said Glenarvan.
"He will not fall!"
In spite of Thalcave's confidence, his companion passed the night in terrible anguish. He was no longer even mindful of the danger still to be feared from the wolves. He would have gone in search of Robert, but the Indian restrained him, and explained that their horses could not overtake the boy, that Thaouka must have distanced his enemies, and could not be found in the darkness. They must wait for day to start in search of Robert.