that there has been a gang of bushrangers out
to the north, headed by a miscreant, whom his companions call Touan,
but whose real name is a mystery."

Mrs. Buckley said, "Yes;" and Tom glanced at Mary. She had grown as
pale as death, and Tom said, "Courage, cousin; don't be frightened at a
name."

"Well, sir," continued Burnside, putting the forefinger and thumb of
each hand together, as if he was making "windows" with soapsuds,
"Captain Desborough has surprised that gang in a gully, sir, and,"
spreading his hands out right and left, "obliterated them."

"The devil!" said Tom, while the Doctor got up and stood beside Mary.

"Smashed them, sir," continued Burnside; "extinguished them utterly. He
had six of his picked troopers with him, and they came on them suddenly
and brought them to bay. You see, two troopers have been murdered
lately, and so our men, when they got face to face with the cowardly
hounds, broke discipline and wouldn't be held. They hardly fired a
shot, but drew their sabres, and cut the dogs down almost to a man.
Three only out of twelve have been captured alive, and one of them is
dying of a wound in the neck." And, having finished, little Burnside
folded his arms and stood in a military attitude, with the air of a man
who had done the thing himself, and was prepared to receive his meed of
praise with modesty.

"Courage, Mary," said Tom; "don't be frightened at shadows."--He felt
something sticking in his throat, but spoke out nevertheless.

"And their redoubted captain," he asked; "what has become of him?"

"What, Touan himself?" said Burnside. "Well, I am sorry to say that
that chivalrous and high-minded gentleman was found neither among the
dead nor the living. Not to mince, matters, sir, he has escaped."

The Doctor saw Mary's face quiver, but she bore up bravely, and
listened.

"Escaped, has he?" said Tom. "And do they know anything about him?"

"Desborough, who told me this himself," said Burnside, "says no, that
he is utterly puzzled. He had made sure of the arch-rascal himself;
but, with that remarkable faculty of saving his own skin which he has
exhibited on more than one occasion, he has got off for the time, with
one companion."

"A companion; eh?"

"Yes," said Burnside, "whereby hangs a bit of romance, if I may profane
the word in speaking of such men. His companion is a young fellow,
described as being more like a beautiful woman than a man, and bearing
the most singular li