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Nearer it came to them until at last with a swoop they were out into the daylight. Blinking in the bright light, their eyes unaccustomed to the sun, they did not realize that a new danger threatened them. It was a long moment before Bob saw what a predicament they were in.,

“Yes, that is our biggest job. We call it irrigation. But it isn’t always necessary to build these dams where the rainfall is heavy. If we can dam a river above the point where it begins to dry up, we can usually collect enough water during the flood season to supply a great area of dry land below it during all the months of the year.”,

CHAPTER XII,

The lashing whirlwinds cleave the vast profound;

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For a long moment both boys eyed each other without flinching. Then in a flash Bob’s anger fled and he thought clearly. Jerry must not be let out to do more damage. He was too dangerous. He must be caught and put away until the crisis was over. No sooner had the thought flashed through his mind than he acted. Jerry was nearest the door, which was still open, so a leaping tackle was the only thing that would work.,

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The other scrambled to his feet and, blinkingly, scanned the horizon. Not more than a quarter of a mile away was a water tank and a few houses! The night had been so dark and they had come to the railroad so late that all the lights had been extinguished in the settlement. But as far as they were concerned, the town might just as well have been ten miles away instead of the few yards it was in reality.,

Having taken what provision the marquis had brought, they quitted the cell, and entered upon the dark passage, along which they passed with cautious steps. Julia came first to the door of the cavern, but who can paint her distress when she found it was fastened! All her efforts to open it were ineffectual.—The door which had closed after her, was held by a spring lock, and could be opened on this side only with a key. When she understood this circumstance, the marchioness, with a placid resignation which seemed to exalt her above humanity, addressed herself again to heaven, and turned back to her cell. Here Julia indulged without reserve, and without scruple, the excess of her grief. The marchioness wept over her. 'Not for myself,' said she, 'do I grieve. I have too long been inured to misfortune to sink under its pressure. This disappointment is intrinsically, perhaps, little—for I had no certain refuge from calamity—and had it even been otherwise, a few years only of suffering would have been spared me. It is for you, Julia, who so much lament my fate; and who in being thus delivered to the power of your father, are sacrificed to the Duke de Luovo—that my heart swells.'