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Turn your steps—and check your ire,,

But it is now time to return to the King. While the enemy kept him shut up in his capital, he could not continually send messengers to the Queen. At last, however, after several sorties, he obliged the besiegers to retire, and he rejoiced at his success less on his own account, than on that of the Queen, whom he could now bring back in safety. He was in total ignorance of the disaster which had befallen her, for none of his officers had dared to tell him of it. They had been into the forest and found the remains of the chariot, the runaway horses, and the driving apparel which she had put on when going to find her husband. As they were fully persuaded that she was dead, and had been eaten by wild beasts, their only care was to make the King believe that she had died suddenly. On receiving this mournful intelligence, he thought he should die himself of grief; he tore his hair, he wept many tears, and gave vent to his bereavement in every imaginable expression of sorrow, cries, sobs, and sighs. For some days he would see no one, nor allow himself to be seen; he then returned to his capital, and entered on a long period of mourning, to which the sorrow of his heart testified more sincerely than even his sombre garments of grief. All the surrounding kings sent their ambassadors charged with messages of condolence; and when the ceremonies, indispensable to these occasions, were over, he granted his subjects a period of peace, exempting them from military service, and helping them, in every possible way, to improve their commerce.,

Evidently his keeping silence was wise, for a minute later Whitney continued, “Although everything seems all right on the surface, I’m afraid there’s going to be trouble with the Mexican laborers. Somebody’s been tampering with them and the trouble down on the border isn’t helping the situation any.”,

At these words Julia revived, and Ferdinand, reproved by the generosity of the father, and conscious of his own inferiority, shrunk back. 'I have no words to thank you,' said he, 'or to entreat your pardon for the impetuosity of my conduct; your knowledge of my situation must plead my excuse.'—'It does,' replied the father, 'but we have no time to lose;—follow me.'

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Holding it as if it were glass, Bob scratched it on the hard floor. It did not light. Again he pulled it across the hard surface and a little flare spurted from the head and then died out.,

“If they did that,” exploded the rancher, “there’d be nothing to it. We would be obliged to go in. I could come mighty nigh wishing somebody a hurt if ’twould bring it about.”,

There was nothing to it. Evidently Jerry saw that Bob was determined to go and he was afraid that if he refused it would look funny. Bob saw the hesitancy and continued:,

CHAPTER I His Fighting