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On the following morning Peter returned to the dungeon, scarcely knowing what to expect, yet expecting something very strange, perhaps the murder, perhaps the supernatural disappearance of his young lord. Full of these wild apprehensions, he dared not venture thither alone, but persuaded some of the servants, to whom he had communicated his terrors, to accompany him to the door. As they passed along he recollected, that in the terror of the preceding night he had forgot to fasten the door, and he now feared that his prisoner had made his escape without a miracle. He hurried to the door; and his surprize was extreme to find it fastened. It instantly struck him that this was the work of a supernatural power, when on calling aloud, he was answered by a voice from within. His absurd fear did not suffer him to recognize the voice of Ferdinand, neither did he suppose that Ferdinand had failed to escape, he, therefore, attributed the voice to the being he had heard on the preceding night; and starting back from the door, fled with his companions to the great hall. There the uproar occasioned by their entrance called together a number of persons, amongst whom was the marquis, who was soon informed of the cause of alarm, with a long history of the circumstances of the foregoing night. At this information, the marquis assumed a very stern look, and severely reprimanded Peter for his imprudence, at the same time reproaching the other servants with their undutifulness in thus disturbing his peace. He reminded them of the condescension he had practised to dissipate their former terrors, and of the result of their examination. He then assured them, that since indulgence had only encouraged intrusion, he would for the future be severe; and concluded with declaring, that the first man who should disturb him with a repetition of such ridiculous apprehensions, or should attempt to disturb the peace of the castle by circulating these idle notions, should be rigorously punished, and banished his dominions. They shrunk back at his reproof, and were silent. 'Bring a torch,' said the marquis, 'and shew me to the dungeon. I will once more condescend to confute you.' To this point in his meditations had Johnny Blossom come just as he reached the telephone pole whence he could see the big entrance gates to Kingthorpe Park; and there was the handsome new carriage rolling out through the gates that very moment! Carlstrom sat on the box. My! How stylish he looked today! His moustache ends stood out in the air more stiffly than usual, and he never once glanced at Johnny Blossom standing below in the dusty road. Back in the carriage sat Miss Melling, Uncle Isaac’s housekeeper, with a white feather in her hat waving up and down. At her side lay a queer package of many yellow sticks tied together. What in the world could that be? “I just telephoned the marshal to come up as we were talking,” explained Mr. Taylor. “I want him to get those two cowboys if he can.”.

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Carlstrom was a Swede, with a big black moustache whose ends stuck straight out in the air. He looked exactly like a stylish colonel to say the least—a very cross colonel though! No, there was no use going to the stable. Pshaw! There stood Miss Melling, Uncle Isaac’s housekeeper. “Why! Is it you, John? Is there anything particular wanted?” The duke approached her with an air of proud condescension; and taking her hand, placed himself beside her. Having paid some formal and general compliments to her beauty, he proceeded to profess himself her admirer. She listened for some time to his professions, and when he appeared willing to hear her, she addressed him—'I am justly sensible, my lord, of the distinction you offer me, and must lament that respectful gratitude is the only sentiment I can return. Nothing can more strongly prove my confidence in your generosity, than when I confess to you, that parental authority urges me to give my hand whither my heart cannot accompany it.' “I couldn’t help it—”.