I murmured, "Yes--at the grotto, or the garden--they will return directly." Still, I could not compose myself.

I was overwhelmed with a sad presentiment of the misfortune which impended over me.

It was but too soon realized.

My sons returned in fear and consternation.

They had no occasion to tell me the result of their search; I saw it at once, and, sinking down motionless, I cried, "Alas! they are not there!" Jack returned the last, and in the most frightful state; he had been at the sea-shore, and, throwing himself into my arms, he sobbed out-- "The savages have been here, and carried away my mother and Francis; perhaps they have devoured them; I have seen the marks of their horrible feet on the sands, and the print of dear Francis's boots." This account at once recalled me to strength and action.
"Come, my children, let us fly to save them.