had he ridden, he came to the well-remembered spot where he had turned and had made his way across the lots to Hannah's home. The impulse was still strong upon him, and almost instinctively he turned his horse into the field.
In a brief time he came out beyond the sheltering trees, and eagerly gazed in the direction of the house. A cry of dismay escaped his lips as he looked, for the house was gone, and in its place was a mass of discolored timbers and ashes, from which an occasional curl of smoke could still be seen to rise.
"Burned! Burned to the ground!" he exclaimed, as he sharply drew the rein on his horse and gazed in consternation about him.
There could be no question as to the fate of the house, but there was nothing to indicate what had become of the inmates. He glanced keenly about him in all directions, but the silence and loneliness were only too apparent. Nothing was to be seen of the party that had attacked the place, any more than of the people who had lost their home. The smouldering ashes seemed to imply that the fire had been started hours before this time, and doubtless the men who had been guilty had long since fled. Robert had no question that Clau-
