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She now held herself in readiness to depart at the moment in which Ferdinand and Hippolitus, for whose steps in the gallery she eagerly listened, should appear. The castle clock struck twelve. The sound seemed to shake the pile. Julia felt it thrill upon her heart. 'I hear you,' sighed she, 'for the last time.' The stillness of death succeeded. She continued to listen; but no sound met her ear. For a considerable time she sat in a state of anxious expectation not to be described. The clock chimed the successive quarters; and her fear rose to each additional sound. At length she heard it strike one. Hollow was that sound, and dreadful to her hopes; for neither Hippolitus nor Ferdinand appeared. She grew faint with fear and disappointment. Her mind, which for two hours had been kept upon the stretch of expectation, now resigned itself to despair. She gently opened the door of her closet, and looked upon the gallery; but all was lonely and silent. It appeared that Robert had refused to be accessary to their scheme; and it was probable that he had betrayed it to the marquis. Overwhelmed with bitter reflections, she threw herself upon the sopha in the first distraction of despair. Suddenly she thought she heard a noise in the gallery; and as she started from her posture to listen to the sound, the door of her closet was gently opened by Ferdinand. 'Come, my love,' said he, 'the keys are ours, and we have not a moment to lose; our delay has been unavoidable; but this is no time for explanation.' Julia, almost fainting, gave her hand to Ferdinand, and Hippolitus, after some short expression of his thankfulness, followed. They passed the door of madame's chamber; and treading the gallery with slow and silent steps, descended to the hall. This they crossed towards a door, after opening which, they were to find their way, through various passages, to a remote part of the castle, where a private door opened upon the walls. Ferdinand carried the several keys. They fastened the hall door after them, and proceeded through a narrow passage terminating in a stair-case.,

In one of the friars of the convent, madame was surprized to find the father who had confessed the dying Vincent. His appearance revived the remembrance of the scene she had witnessed at the castle of Mazzini; and the last words of Vincent, combined with the circumstances which had since occurred, renewed all her curiosity and astonishment. But his appearance excited more sensations than those of wonder. She dreaded lest he should be corrupted by the marquis, to whom he was known, and thus be induced to use his interest with the Abate for the restoration of Julia.,

“You’re whistling,” said Bob shortly.,

“No,” Bob gasped. “Mig—Miguel got away!”

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“Well,” Ted replied, “I hung around the house all day yesterday and worked like a dog. Dad was tickled to death when I got back. Thought that I’d proved by coming back that he was right. But he took good care to give me a bunch of stiff jobs all the same. I didn’t get onto anything yesterday until about ten o’clock. I had hit the hay but had not gone to sleep, when Dave Wesley and John Harper rode in. Both of ’em are cattlemen and they were some lit up, believe me. They had been down to Las Cruces and had mopped up all the liquor in sight. They had been around the ranch a lot recently but I had not paid much attention to them. When they came along before they had long confabs with Dad, but took care to have them where they could not be overheard. Last night they were not so careful and in spite of all my old man could do they talked and talked loud. The booze made ’em careless, I reckon, ’cause I heard them all right.”,

The trip passed quickly for Bob and his Chief. Mr. Whitney was on his way to the biggest job he had yet tackled, and Bob would taste for the first time the flavor of the work he felt he most wanted to do. To Jerry, however, the train was only bringing him to a new spell of hard labor.,

At the name of Vincent Julia started; the doubtful words he had uttered on his deathbed were now explained—the cloud of mystery which had so long involved the southern buildings broke at once away: and each particular circumstance that had excited her former terror, arose to her view entirely unveiled by the words of the marchioness.—The long and total desertion of this part of the fabric—the light that had appeared through the casement—the figure she had seen issue from the tower—the midnight noises she had heard—were circumstances evidently dependant on the imprisonment of the marchioness; the latter of which incidents were produced either by Vincent, or the marquis, in their attendance upon her.,

“This isn’t anything,” growled Jerry, and then they went on again in silence.