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Johnny Blossom went storming through the rooms. My, oh, my! how little he seemed when he looked at himself in those enormous mirrors. Soon, however, he was walking on the railing of the veranda. What a veranda it was, with its massive stone pillars and broad steps of white marble leading to the grounds! Still, Johnny Blossom was not altogether sure that the veranda at home wasn’t just as pretty; at any rate, it was pleasanter, that was certain.,

“What have you been up to this afternoon, Jerry?” asked the Chief, when they had found their table.,

“Of course. I’m going now.” And Johnny Blossom ran at topmost speed, so as not to lose a second’s time in getting out to the little yellow horse.,

“What did Uncle say?” asked Asta.

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The boys cooked some supper and made camp as best they could from the salvaged cargo of their boat. Afterwards they slipped out of their wet clothes and rolled up in the blankets before the comforting warmth of their fire.,

Simultaneously the boys reached for the oars but a sudden twist in the current swung the light craft broadside to the stream and as it turned the bow grazed a half submerged rock. The violent shock caused Jerry to lose his balance. Before he could so much as move, Bob saw his chum topple overboard, where the current swept him towards the brink.,

It was not long before the rolling hills on either side of the stream gave way to rocky cliffs and deep gulches through which little creeks trickled into the river. The current grew faster and here and there an ugly rock showed its head above the surface, the water rushing by angrily on either side.,

Ferdinand listened to this narrative in silent wonder! wonder not occasioned by the adventure described, but by the hardihood and rashness of the marquis, who had thus exposed to the inspection of his people, that dreadful spot which he knew from experience to be the haunt of an injured spirit; a spot which he had hitherto scrupulously concealed from human eye, and human curiosity; and which, for so many years, he had not dared even himself to enter. Peter went on, but was presently interrupted by a hollow moan, which seemed to come from beneath the ground. 'Blessed virgin!' exclaimed he: Ferdinand listened in awful expectation. A groan longer and more dreadful was repeated, when Peter started from his seat, and snatching up the lamp, rushed out of the dungeon. Ferdinand, who was left in total darkness, followed to the door, which the affrighted Peter had not stopped to fasten, but which had closed, and seemed held by a lock that could be opened only on the outside. The sensations of Ferdinand, thus compelled to remain in the dungeon, are not to be imagined. The horrors of the night, whatever they were to be, he was to endure alone. By degrees, however, he seemed to acquire the valour of despair. The sounds were repeated, at intervals, for near an hour, when silence returned, and remained undisturbed during the rest of the night. Ferdinand was alarmed by no appearance, and at length, overcome with anxiety and watching, he sunk to repose.