The young Indian had been right. It was Miguel. Even in the uncertain light Bob could see that he carried a queer-shaped package under his arm.,
“Golly!” almost whispered Bob, awed by the strangeness of the scene. “I reckon this is why no one came through. There doesn’t seem to be any way to get out—”,
Julia attended to the narrative of her mother in silent astonishment, and gave all the sympathy which sorrow could demand. 'Surely,' cried she, 'the providence on whom you have so firmly relied, and whose inflictions you have supported with a fortitude so noble, has conducted me through a labyrinth of misfortunes to this spot, for the purpose of delivering you! Oh! let us hasten to fly this horrid abode—let us seek to escape through the cavern by which I entered.'.
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