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“No, it is next Saturday.” “Too bad,” grunted the Indian as they walked on. “But you no tell him ’bout Miguel. Why not?” It was not long, however, before their strong constitutions asserted themselves. Soon both boys were able to sit up and take stock of what damage had been done. Jerry was first on his feet, pale and a little shaky, but again master of himself..
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“And I was too late,” put in the boy. “Bob had beaten me to it. I was sure some glad when I found the old wall was safe. It was the thing I feared most as I rode for the soldiers—that Miguel would give the signal before I could get back. I sort of had a hunch that it was Bob who had had a hand in it and I went to his room to tell him I was on his side. But you wouldn’t let me, Bob,” he finished. When the Queen heard this dreadful news, she uttered piercing cries, and clasped her child to her breast. "My life shall be taken," she said, "before my daughter shall be delivered up to that monster; let him rather take our kingdom and all that we possess. Unnatural father! can you possibly consent to such a cruel thing? What! my child made into a pie! The thought of it is intolerable! Send me this terrible ambassador, maybe the sight of my anguish may touch his heart." But it is now time to return to the King. While the enemy kept him shut up in his capital, he could not continually send messengers to the Queen. At last, however, after several sorties, he obliged the besiegers to retire, and he rejoiced at his success less on his own account, than on that of the Queen, whom he could now bring back in safety. He was in total ignorance of the disaster which had befallen her, for none of his officers had dared to tell him of it. They had been into the forest and found the remains of the chariot, the runaway horses, and the driving apparel which she had put on when going to find her husband. As they were fully persuaded that she was dead, and had been eaten by wild beasts, their only care was to make the King believe that she had died suddenly. On receiving this mournful intelligence, he thought he should die himself of grief; he tore his hair, he wept many tears, and gave vent to his bereavement in every imaginable expression of sorrow, cries, sobs, and sighs. For some days he would see no one, nor allow himself to be seen; he then returned to his capital, and entered on a long period of mourning, to which the sorrow of his heart testified more sincerely than even his sombre garments of grief. All the surrounding kings sent their ambassadors charged with messages of condolence; and when the ceremonies, indispensable to these occasions, were over, he granted his subjects a period of peace, exempting them from military service, and helping them, in every possible way, to improve their commerce. “What is it?” asked Grandmother..
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