ashore, and taking care not to confuse the footprints by
obliterating them with his own, Leslie examined the marks with the most
anxious care; and presently his most dreadful fears were realised, for
plainly to be distinguished here and there among the imprints of bare
feet were the prints of Flora's little shoes, blurred in places, as
though she had offered strenuous resistance to the coercion of her
captors, but quite unmistakable for all that. Dick subjected the whole
length of the track, from the water's edge to the boundary of the sward,
to a most rigid examination, and at length satisfied himself that
Flora's footprints all led in one direction, namely _toward_ the water;
and then, with a savage cry, he went to work to prepare for the pursuit.
For there could no longer be a shadow of doubt that Flora had been
carried off, and was at that moment aboard the canoe that he had seen
under sail. Oh, if he had but known--if he had but known!

His preparations were few, and did not take very long to complete. He
first dashed off to the tent, and, snatching the mattress and bedding
from his bed, rushed down to the catamaran with it, and, flinging it
down on deck, covered it with a tarpaulin. He would certainly be out
one night, if not two, and Flora would need something softer than the
bare planks to lie upon when he had rescued her. Then, returning to the
tent, he flung into a basket all the provisions that he could lay his
hands upon, together with half a dozen bottles of wine--there was no
time to go to the spring for water--and this with a small case of rifle
ammunition and a few others matters that he thought would be useful, he
also conveyed on board the catamaran. He was now ready to start; but as
yet he knew not in what direction the canoe was steering, except that
she was undoubtedly bound to the westward. Now, there were at least
three islands lying in that direction, and the canoe was probably bound
to one or the other of these; but it was of the utmost importance to
know _which_ one, for any mistake upon this point would be fatal, as it
must result in the canoe being missed altogether. So Leslie took a boat
compass that had originally belonged to the brig, and the telescope,
and, thus provided, made his way as rapidly as possible to Mermaid
Head--as he had named the most southerly point of the island--hoping and
believing that from the lofty cliffs of that headland the flying canoe
would still be in sigh