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“Sort of gets me,” was Jerry’s enthusiastic comment. “Somehow the thought of shady woods sounds mighty attractive after the dose of sun and desert I’ve had the last couple of years. How about you, Bob?”,

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“It’s all right then,” he muttered and stood up to reassure the crowd.,

Everything was as usual. He could scarcely bear to look at the tree he had gathered the fruit from, but finding two apples on the ground under the other tree, he picked them up and took them into the house. He certainly wasn’t going to eat any more of Aunt Grenertsen’s apples.

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The noise increased, and they could distinguish voices. Hippolitus believed the murderers were returned; that they had traced his retreat, and were coming towards the vault by some way unknown to him. He prepared for the worst—and drawing his sword, resolved to defend Julia to the last. Their apprehension, however, was soon dissipated by a trampling of horses, which sound had occasioned his alarm, and which now seemed to come from a courtyard above, extremely near the vault. He distinctly heard the voices of the banditti, together with the moans and supplications of some person, whom it was evident they were about to plunder. The sound appeared so very near, that Hippolitus was both shocked and surprised; and looking round the vault, he perceived a small grated window placed very high in the wall, which he concluded overlooked the place where the robbers were assembled. He recollected that his light might betray him; and horrible as was the alternative, he was compelled to extinguish it. He now attempted to climb to the grate, through which he might obtain a view of what was passing without. This at length he effected, for the ruggedness of the wall afforded him a footing. He beheld in a ruinous court, which was partially illuminated by the glare of torches, a group of banditti surrounding two persons who were bound on horseback, and who were supplicating for mercy.,

“The poor beggar has sure been punished,” said the soldier.,

Zing! A sharp report and a whistle through the air by his ear told him that Miguel had caught sight of him and hoped to stop him by means of a bullet. But Bob had to go on. Again came a shot, but this time farther from him. “Rotten shooting!” panted Bob for the wind to hear. Now he was almost at his goal. He saw that there was still a length of fuse to be burned before it got to the explosive but the smoke was moving rapidly towards him. Another bullet came. He would not have time to get to the end of the fuse before it exploded. Despairing, he was almost ready to give up.,

The Abate felt the full force of this reproof; but disdaining to appear sensible to it, restrained his resentment. His wounded pride thus exasperated, and all the malignant passions of his nature thus called into action, he was prompted to that cruel surrender which he had never before seriously intended. The offence which Madame de Menon had unintentionally given his haughty spirit urged him to retaliate in punishment. He had, therefore, pleased himself with exciting a terror which he never meant to confirm, and he resolved to be further solicited for that protection which he had already determined to grant. But this reproof of Julia touched him where he was most conscious of defect; and the temporary triumph which he imagined it afforded her, kindled his resentment into flame. He mused in his chair, in a fixed attitude.—She saw in his countenance the deep workings of his mind—she revolved the fate preparing for her, and stood in trembling anxiety to receive her sentence. The Abate considered each aggravating circumstance of the marquis's menace, and each sentence of Julia's speech; and his mind experienced that vice is not only inconsistent with virtue, but with itself—for to gratify his malignity, he now discovered that it would be necessary to sacrifice his pride—since it would be impossible to punish the object of the first without denying himself the gratification of the latter. This reflection suspended his mind in a state of torture, and he sat wrapt in gloomy silence.