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CHAPTER IV Aunt Grenertsen’s Apples,

“They’re coming!”,

Just before sundown next day they came to an obstacle which at first sight rather daunted them. As they rounded a bend, the most surprising bit of scenery they had so far encountered flashed before their eyes. The canyon seemed to stop, to have no outlet. It was as if they had come into an amphitheater from which there was no escape. Even the way they had come in was not visible. The point of rocks which had made the bend in the river merged into the sides of the canyon in such a way as to make it seem that there was no opening at all.

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This incident occasioned Julia much alarm. She could not but believe that the men whom she had seen were spies of the marquis;—if so, her asylum was discovered, and she had every thing to apprehend. Madame now judged it necessary to the safety of Julia, that the Abate should be informed of her story, and of the sanctuary she had sought in his monastery, and also that he should be solicited to protect her from parental tyranny. This was a hazardous, but a necessary step, to provide against the certain danger which must ensue, should the marquis, if he demanded his daughter of the Abate, be the first to acquaint him with her story. If she acted otherwise, she feared that the Abate, in whose generosity she had not confided, and whose pity she had not solicited, would, in the pride of his resentment, deliver her up, and thus would she become a certain victim to the Duke de Luovo.,

'Soon after my noviciation, I had the misfortune to lose my dear father. In the tranquillity of this monastery, however, in the soothing kindness of my companions, and in devotional exercises, my sorrows found relief, and the sting of grief was blunted. My repose was of short continuance. A circumstance occurred that renewed the misery, which, can now never quit me but in the grave, to which I look with no fearful apprehension, but as a refuge from calamity, trusting that the power who has seen good to afflict me, will pardon the imperfectness of my devotion, and the too frequent wandering of my thoughts to the object once so dear to me.',

Fill the red bowls,,

“Would you like to hear it again?” asked Johnny, radiant.