“Trouble below, Billy!” gasped Bob as he came to the shed that protected the operator from the rays of the sun. “Need the Big Boss. He’s over at the spillway. Shoot me over?”,
The Indian stalked swiftly away and Bob turned towards his boarding house and sleep. It seemed a safe bet that there would be no further trouble that night. In all probability if an uprising amongst the Mexican laborers had been planned it would not come off to-night. Bob was sure that the blowing up of the dam would have been the signal for the starting of general hostilities. Since he had been able to prevent the signal being given, and at the same time had scared Miguel off, the chances were that all would remain quiet. Leaderless, the Mexicans were harmless, and Bob had a hunch that Miguel was the only one of them who was strong enough to direct the revolt.,
Meanwhile Julia, sheltered in the obscure recesses of St Augustin, endeavoured to attain a degree of that tranquillity which so strikingly characterized the scenes around her. The abbey of St Augustin was a large magnificent mass of Gothic architecture, whose gloomy battlements, and majestic towers arose in proud sublimity from amid the darkness of the surrounding shades. It was founded in the twelfth century, and stood a proud monument of monkish superstition and princely magnificence. In the times when Italy was agitated by internal commotions, and persecuted by foreign invaders, this edifice afforded an asylum to many noble Italian emigrants, who here consecrated the rest of their days to religion. At their death they enriched the monastery with the treasures which it had enabled them to secure..
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