Of that terrible catastrophe at the Mercers' she had but a confused
idea. They were sitting round the table talking, when, without the
slightest notice or warning, the windows and doors were burst in,
and dozens of dark forms leaped into the room. She saw Mr. Mercer
rush to the wall and seize his pistols, and then she saw no more.
She was seized and thrown over the shoulder of an Indian before she
had time to do more than leap to her feet. There was a confused
whirl of sounds around her--shrieks, threats, pistol shots, and
savage yells--then the sounds swam in her ears, and she fainted.
When she recovered consciousness she found that she was being
carried on a horse before her captor, and that the air was full of
a red glare, which she supposed to arise from a burning house. On
the chief, who carried her, perceiving that she had recovered her
senses, he called to one of his followers, who immediately rode up,
bringing a horse upon which a side-saddle had been placed. To this
Ethel was transposed, and in another minute was galloping along by
the side of her captor.
Even now she could hardly persuade herself that she was not
dreaming. That instantaneous scene at the Mercers'--those confused
sounds--this wild cavalcade of dark figures who rode round
her--could not surely be real.
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