It was a scene of vandalism of which vagabonds alone would be guilty.
I stepped across the pile of things to the window, glancing out at the still smouldering ruins of the stable.

Whatever had occurred, neither the lady nor Peter remained in or about the house.

Of this I was satisfied, yet with the realization there came a sudden comprehension of my own helplessness to be of any aid.

I was alone, unmounted, and with no weapon but an old pistol.

There might be other weapons on those dead men below, but I could conceive of no effective way of making them useful.