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The count Vereza lost his father in early childhood. He was now of age, and had just entered upon the possession of his estates. His person was graceful, yet manly; his mind accomplished, and his manners elegant; his countenance expressed a happy union of spirit, dignity, and benevolence, which formed the principal traits of his character. He had a sublimity of thought, which taught him to despise the voluptuous vices of the Neapolitans, and led him to higher pursuits. He was the chosen and early friend of young Ferdinand, the son of the marquis, and was a frequent visitor in the family. When the marchioness first saw him, she treated him with great distinction, and at length made such advances, as neither the honor nor the inclinations of the count permitted him to notice. He conducted himself toward her with frigid indifference, which served only to inflame the passion it was meant to chill. The favors of the marchioness had hitherto been sought with avidity, and accepted with rapture; and the repulsive insensibility which she now experienced, roused all her pride, and called into action every refinement of coquetry. Bob’s perch on the tower was far from comfortable, so he hoped the conference going on below him would last no great length of time. The thin iron rungs of the ladder cut into his legs and his arms had begun to ache from the strain of holding himself in place without making any noise that would give him away. To add to his discomfort, he soon realized that although he could overhear clearly every word that passed between the figures on the ground it would do him no good, as they were talking in Spanish, a language in which Bob remembered Jerry could at least make himself understood. Since his arrival at the dam, the Eastern boy had made some attempt to pick up a working knowledge of it, but his time had been so short that he had not got very far. Therefore, only a word here and there meant anything to him and as these were simple words, they gave no clue to what was being discussed. “That’s the only thing I’ll really be sorry for—and leaving you, old man. But after all, it was you who was responsible for the trip. I just went because you dared me into it. No, Bob, if Link will go North with me, I’ll have to pass up the Labyrinth.”.
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“Came so? What do you mean?” Many persons were standing around, all looking at Grandmother and Johnny Blossom. “Now you shall hear!” shouted Johnny, dashing into the arbor. “Just think! I was put up on the library table, and all the people came and shook hands with me; old Rolfsen began it, and he made a kind of speech for me; and Lars Berget wanted to shout ‘Hurrah!’ when we drove out. And if all this isn’t true, you may chop my head off.” Johnny Blossom’s eyes shone. He was tremendously in earnest. During these enquiries a new subject of disturbance broke out in the castle of Mazzini. On the night so fatal to the hopes of Hippolitus and Julia, when the tumult was subsided, and all was still, a light was observed by a servant as he passed by the window of the great stair-case in the way to his chamber, to glimmer through the casement before noticed in the southern buildings. While he stood observing it, it vanished, and presently reappeared. The former mysterious circumstances relative to these buildings rushed upon his mind; and fired with wonder, he roused some of his fellow servants to come and behold this phenomenon..
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