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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.,

Beauty dressed herself, and, meanwhile, news of her arrival was sent to her sisters, who came in haste with their husbands. They were both extremely unhappy. The eldest had married a young man who was as handsome as nature could make him, but he was so in love with his own face, that he could think of nothing else from morning to night, and cared nothing for the beauty of his wife. The second had married a very witty and clever man, but he only made use of his ability to put everybody in a bad temper, beginning with his wife.,

At last he was about to get up and go home when he saw a figure dodging from shadow to shadow and making up the hill in the general direction of his position.,

“And with honor to his family fill that responsible position in life which great wealth will oblige him to occupy.”

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The boys cooked some supper and made camp as best they could from the salvaged cargo of their boat. Afterwards they slipped out of their wet clothes and rolled up in the blankets before the comforting warmth of their fire.,

No amount of urging or surprise questions sufficed to break his silence and the little party came to the lower camp before he had opened his lips.,

Ferdinand, in the stillness and solitude of his dungeon, brooded over the late calamity in gloomy ineffectual lamentation. The idea of Hippolitus—of Hippolitus murdered—arose to his imagination in busy intrusion, and subdued the strongest efforts of his fortitude. Julia too, his beloved sister—unprotected—unfriended—might, even at the moment he lamented her, be sinking under sufferings dreadful to humanity. The airy schemes he once formed of future felicity, resulting from the union of two persons so justly dear to him—with the gay visions of past happiness—floated upon his fancy, and the lustre they reflected served only to heighten, by contrast, the obscurity and gloom of his present views. He had, however, a new subject of astonishment, which often withdrew his thoughts from their accustomed object, and substituted a sensation less painful, though scarcely less powerful. One night as he lay ruminating on the past, in melancholy dejection, the stillness of the place was suddenly interrupted by a low and dismal sound. It returned at intervals in hollow sighings, and seemed to come from some person in deep distress. So much did fear operate upon his mind, that he was uncertain whether it arose from within or from without. He looked around his dungeon, but could distinguish no object through the impenetrable darkness. As he listened in deep amazement, the sound was repeated in moans more hollow. Terror now occupied his mind, and disturbed his reason; he started from his posture, and, determined to be satisfied whether any person beside himself was in the dungeon, groped, with arms extended, along the walls. The place was empty; but coming to a particular spot, the sound suddenly arose more distinctly to his ear. He called aloud, and asked who was there; but received no answer. Soon after all was still; and after listening for some time without hearing the sounds renewed, he laid himself down to sleep. On the following day he mentioned to the man who brought him food what he had heard, and enquired concerning the noise. The servant appeared very much terrified, but could give no information that might in the least account for the circumstance, till he mentioned the vicinity of the dungeon to the southern buildings. The dreadful relation formerly given by the marquis instantly recurred to the mind of Ferdinand, who did not hesitate to believe that the moans he heard came from the restless spirit of the murdered Della Campo. At this conviction, horror thrilled his nerves; but he remembered his oath, and was silent. His courage, however, yielded to the idea of passing another night alone in his prison, where, if the vengeful spirit of the murdered should appear, he might even die of the horror which its appearance would inspire.,

“I declare if there isn’t the Kingthorpe heir himself, hiring out as boatman!” came a voice from the wharf.