Evening came; night rolled on. There was no news at all. Nothing could now keep at Rock Castle those who were awaiting them there, a prey to mortal anxiety.
In the morning preparations were hurriedly made. The waggon was harnessed, provisions were put into it, and all took their seats. The cattle started, Brownie running ahead. After crossing Jackal River the vehicle went along the woods and fields which bordered the road to Eberfurt, travelling at its highest possible speed.
They had gone about two and a half miles and had reached the culvert over the irrigation canal which ran into Swan Lake, when M. Zermatt gave the signal to halt.
Brownie had rushed forward, barking faster and more furiously than ever.
"There they are! There they are!" cried Mrs. Wolston.
And, three hundred yards away, two men appeared, rounding a clump of trees.
They were Mr. Wolston and Ernest.
Where was Jack? He could not be far away—a gunshot or two behind, no doubt.
Mr. Wolston and Ernest were welcomed with shouts of joy. But as they did not come on, everyone rushed towards them.
"Where is Jack?" Mme. Zermatt asked.