"Go you at once and search for her.

She is no laggard.

She has not stopped in to see one of the girls." And Pedro went grumpily forth to search for his daughter.

An hour later he came staggering down from the woods above the pool to meet the dozen or more friends and neighbours who had set out some-time earlier to look for the two of them, father and daughter.
He bore in his arms the limp, apparently lifeless form of Philippa.
He was covered with blood, he was chattering like a madman.

Out of his incoherent babble the horrified searchers were able to put together the cruel story.