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He stood behind her chair, looking eagerly over her shoulder at the stamp.,

The marquis was now not suffered to doubt her infidelity, but the passion which her conduct abused, her faithlessness could not subdue; he still doated with absurd fondness, and even regretted that uncertainty could no longer flatter him with hope. It seemed as if his desire of her affection increased with his knowledge of the loss of it; and the very circumstance which should have roused his aversion, by a strange perversity of disposition, appeared to heighten his passion, and to make him think it impossible he could exist without her.,

OH! Everything was so horrid! That stupid Tellef Olsen! Always boasting and bragging about his muscle as if he were the only one in the town who had muscle. Well, anyway, he wouldn’t be coming around here any more to brag about it.,

Bob was asleep almost as soon as he touched the pillow. The long trip on the train had tired him more than he had thought and he did not wake until a heavy pounding on the door broke into his slumbers. Jerry King came in when he at last answered.

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“Need you—quick—over at the east spillway—wall giving way—” But faster than the words could tremble out, the Chief was acting.,

Jerry saw that Bob must have some good reason for the maneuver and without a word took hold of the rope which was fastened to the bow of the light craft and slipped overboard at the first likely spot. Pressing himself against a rock, he held taut and let the action of the current, helped by Bob’s pulling strongly on one oar, turn the boat’s nose in the direction from which they had come. It was ticklish work in view of the position in which they were placed. But once around he saw what Bob had in mind when he had planned the stunt, for as soon as he was aboard again Bob began rowing against the current. This allowed the boat to go very slowly down stream. In this way he had much more control than merely backing water could give him. Besides he could see for himself what was coming, as in a rowing position he naturally faced the stern.,

“Come along,” he directed. “Talk as we go!”,

Ferdinand, in the stillness and solitude of his dungeon, brooded over the late calamity in gloomy ineffectual lamentation. The idea of Hippolitus—of Hippolitus murdered—arose to his imagination in busy intrusion, and subdued the strongest efforts of his fortitude. Julia too, his beloved sister—unprotected—unfriended—might, even at the moment he lamented her, be sinking under sufferings dreadful to humanity. The airy schemes he once formed of future felicity, resulting from the union of two persons so justly dear to him—with the gay visions of past happiness—floated upon his fancy, and the lustre they reflected served only to heighten, by contrast, the obscurity and gloom of his present views. He had, however, a new subject of astonishment, which often withdrew his thoughts from their accustomed object, and substituted a sensation less painful, though scarcely less powerful. One night as he lay ruminating on the past, in melancholy dejection, the stillness of the place was suddenly interrupted by a low and dismal sound. It returned at intervals in hollow sighings, and seemed to come from some person in deep distress. So much did fear operate upon his mind, that he was uncertain whether it arose from within or from without. He looked around his dungeon, but could distinguish no object through the impenetrable darkness. As he listened in deep amazement, the sound was repeated in moans more hollow. Terror now occupied his mind, and disturbed his reason; he started from his posture, and, determined to be satisfied whether any person beside himself was in the dungeon, groped, with arms extended, along the walls. The place was empty; but coming to a particular spot, the sound suddenly arose more distinctly to his ear. He called aloud, and asked who was there; but received no answer. Soon after all was still; and after listening for some time without hearing the sounds renewed, he laid himself down to sleep. On the following day he mentioned to the man who brought him food what he had heard, and enquired concerning the noise. The servant appeared very much terrified, but could give no information that might in the least account for the circumstance, till he mentioned the vicinity of the dungeon to the southern buildings. The dreadful relation formerly given by the marquis instantly recurred to the mind of Ferdinand, who did not hesitate to believe that the moans he heard came from the restless spirit of the murdered Della Campo. At this conviction, horror thrilled his nerves; but he remembered his oath, and was silent. His courage, however, yielded to the idea of passing another night alone in his prison, where, if the vengeful spirit of the murdered should appear, he might even die of the horror which its appearance would inspire.