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“So you want me to tell you something about the dam?” said Mr. Whitney, smiling at his rodman. The two were sitting on the side of a hill overlooking the construction work several days after Bob had been promoted from the office to the proud position of being the Chief’s aide. He had been on a message to the cofferdam gang and had returned to find the boss seemingly loafing. When he saw there might be a few free moments before he was set to work again he ventured some questions regarding the thing that was of most interest to him. They had finished their supper, when they heard a great noise, and the merchant, weeping, said farewell to his poor daughter, for he knew it was the Beast. Beauty could not help shuddering when she saw the dreadful shape approaching; but she did her best not to give way to her fear, and when the Beast asked her if it was of her own free will that she had come, she told him, trembling, that it was so. "You are very good, and I am much obliged to you," said the Beast. "Good man, to-morrow morning you will leave, and do not venture ever to come here again." "Good-bye, Beast," replied Beauty, and the Beast immediately retired. "Alas! my daughter," said the merchant, clasping Beauty in his arms, "I am half dead with fright. Listen to me, and leave me here." "No, my father," said Beauty, without faltering. "You will depart to-morrow morning, and you will leave me under Heaven's protection, maybe I shall find pity and help."[1They retired to rest, thinking that they would have no sleep that night; but no sooner were they in bed than their eyes closed. In her dreams there appeared to Beauty a lady, who said to her, "I have pleasure in the goodness of your heart, Beauty; your good action in giving your life to save that of your father will not be without its reward." Beauty told her father next morning of her dream, and although it afforded him some consolation, it did not prevent his loud cries of grief when at last he was forced to bid good-bye to his dear daughter. “Get up and look,” giggled Bob..
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Old Rolfsen reached out a gnarled, rough hand to Johnny and all the rest of the workmen came, one by one, and shook hands with him. It was queer, but it was pleasant, too, for he knew them all and he smiled at them as they greeted him. Lars Berget gripped his hand so hard that it really hurt. And just think! Even Carlstrom came and made a beautiful bow (My! how stiff his moustache ends were today!), and to crown all, Miss Melling pressed forward and actually courtesied! At this Johnny Blossom was so astounded that he had to look over at his mother. He descended into the same wild hall he had passed on the preceding night. He had scarcely reached the bottom of the stair-case, when a feeble light gleamed across the hall, and his eye caught the glimpse of a figure retiring through the low arched door which led to the south tower. He drew his sword and rushed on. A faint sound died away along the passage, the windings of which prevented his seeing the figure he pursued. Of this, indeed, he had obtained so slight a view, that he scarcely knew whether it bore the impression of a human form. The light quickly disappeared, and he heard the door that opened upon the tower suddenly close. He reached it, and forcing it open, sprang forward; but the place was dark and solitary, and there was no appearance of any person having passed along it. He looked up the tower, and the chasm which the stair-case exhibited, convinced him that no human being could have passed up. He stood silent and amazed; examining the place with an eye of strict enquiry, he perceived a door, which was partly concealed by hanging stairs, and which till now had escaped his notice. Hope invigorated curiosity, but his expectation was quickly disappointed, for this door also was fastened. He tried in vain to force it. He knocked, and a hollow sullen sound ran in echoes through the place, and died away at a distance. It was evident that beyond this door were chambers of considerable extent, but after long and various attempts to reach them, he was obliged to desist, and he quitted the tower as ignorant and more dissatisfied than he had entered it. He returned to the hall, which he now for the first time deliberately surveyed. It was a spacious and desolate apartment, whose lofty roof rose into arches supported by pillars of black marble. The same substance inlaid the floor, and formed the stair-case. The windows were high and gothic. An air of proud sublimity, united with singular wildness, characterized the place, at the extremity of which arose several gothic arches, whose dark shade veiled in obscurity the extent beyond. On the left hand appeared two doors, each of which was fastened, and on the right the grand entrance from the courts. Ferdinand determined to explore the dark recess which terminated his view, and as he traversed the hall, his imagination, affected by the surrounding scene, often multiplied the echoes of his footsteps into uncertain sounds of strange and fearful import. Indeed he wasn’t a rascal. The whole thing had just happened of itself. It was no plan of his, but it was just as unlucky as if it had been. The marquis made a sudden spring upwards, and fell lifeless on the bed; the attendants were called in, but he was gone for ever. His last words struck with the force of lightning upon the mind of Ferdinand; they seemed to say that his mother might yet exist. He took the keys, and ordering some of the servants to follow, hastened to the southern building; he proceeded to the tower, and the trapdoor beneath the stair-case was lifted. They all descended into a dark passage, which conducted them through several intricacies to the door of the cell. Ferdinand, in trembling horrible expectation, applied the key; the door opened, and he entered; but what was his surprize when he found no person in the cell! He concluded that he had mistaken the place, and quitted it for further search; but having followed the windings of the passage, by which he entered, without discovering any other door, he returned to a more exact examination of the cell. He now observed the door, which led to the cavern, and he entered upon the avenue, but no person was found there and no voice answered to his call. Having reached the door of the cavern, which was fastened, he returned lost in grief, and meditating upon the last words of the marquis. He now thought that he had mistaken their import, and that the words ''tis possible,' were not meant to apply to the life of the marchioness, he concluded, that the murder had been committed at a distant period; and he resolved, therefore, to have the ground of the cell dug up, and the remains of his mother sought for..
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