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“But what difference does that make?” insisted Bob. “He ought to be glad to see the dam built!”,Spirits are laid,The next thing to decide was whether the time had come to tell Mr. Whitney what he had learned. This was easy. He did not have a complete case yet and would not until Ted came back with some sort of report.,Little Thumbling brought news that very evening, and this first journey having made him well known, he got whatever he chose to ask, for the King paid him most liberally for carrying his orders to the army; a great number of ladies also gave him whatever he wished, in return for news of their lovers, and this brought him in the greatest gain.,“But isn’t your shirt wet?”,“Don’t bother about the oars,” said Bob, his voice echoing from the walls of the passage. “It’s too dark for ’em. Try to get a hold on the roof.”,The Indian came as near to chuckling as he was able.,“I couldn’t help it—”,Having determined which way to pursue, he pushed his horse into a gallop, and entered the forest as the last rays of the sun trembled on the mountains. The thick foliage of the trees threw a gloom around, which was every moment deepened by the shades of evening. The path was uninterrupted, and the count continued to follow it till all distinction was confounded in the veil of night. Total darkness now made it impossible for him to pursue his way. He dismounted, and fastening his horse to a tree, climbed among the branches, purposing to remain there till morning.,They had pursued for some time the way which they judged led to the monastery, when the note of the bell returned upon the wind, and discovered to them that they had mistaken their route. After much wandering and difficulty they arrived, overcome with weariness, at the gates of a large and gloomy fabric. The bell had ceased, and all was still. By the moonlight, which through broken clouds now streamed upon the building, they became convinced it was the monastery they had sought, and the duke himself struck loudly upon the gate.,Bob watched him for a moment and then said softly, “But if you can talk about it p’r’aps it will help. Don’t you think so?”,At last he found her, in a big rocking chair, reading some stupid girls’ book. They rushed over to Jensen’s Wharf, for that was where Jeremias the wood-cutter kept his boat, and they had a standing permission to use it whenever they wished..