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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.,
Every day at home he had a great gymnastic performance, holding a dining-room chair at arm’s length. He could do it splendidly now, so lately he had thought he would practise holding his sisters up that way. If he began with the littlest sister he might by degrees work up to the biggest. Perhaps even so he might not be able to manage Asta—she was so fat. But they were all tiresome. They screamed if he merely touched them. Just think what happened in the dining room only yesterday?,
“Yes. They rowed me ashore from the steamer.”,
With that he disappeared into the house.
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“Cowboy?” said Bob, at once interested by the two magic words “riding range.” He had met them in many books of adventure. They brought up thoughts of bucking bronchos, fights with Indians, and all the rest of the romance of the West. That this boy of about his own age could be a cowboy was really exciting. But he missed the woolly chaps and the sombrero. The boy was simply dressed in overalls, went barefooted and wore a heavy slouch hat.,
They did. Bob realized they were approaching the ranch by the sight of broad green fields which were watered by orderly ditches and laterals spreading out from the main canals like the branches of a tree. Here and there were gates which could be used to direct the water down any given canal or ditch.,
It was morning when he landed at a small port of Sicily, and proceeded towards the abbey of St Augustin. As he travelled, his imagination revolved the scenes of his early love, the distress of Julia, and the sufferings of Ferdinand, and his heart melted at the retrospect. He considered the probabilities of Julia having found protection from her father in the pity of the Padre Abate; and even ventured to indulge himself in a flattering, fond anticipation of the moment when Julia should again be restored to his sight.
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The marquis made a sudden spring upwards, and fell lifeless on the bed; the attendants were called in, but he was gone for ever. His last words struck with the force of lightning upon the mind of Ferdinand; they seemed to say that his mother might yet exist. He took the keys, and ordering some of the servants to follow, hastened to the southern building; he proceeded to the tower, and the trapdoor beneath the stair-case was lifted. They all descended into a dark passage, which conducted them through several intricacies to the door of the cell. Ferdinand, in trembling horrible expectation, applied the key; the door opened, and he entered; but what was his surprize when he found no person in the cell! He concluded that he had mistaken the place, and quitted it for further search; but having followed the windings of the passage, by which he entered, without discovering any other door, he returned to a more exact examination of the cell. He now observed the door, which led to the cavern, and he entered upon the avenue, but no person was found there and no voice answered to his call. Having reached the door of the cavern, which was fastened, he returned lost in grief, and meditating upon the last words of the marquis. He now thought that he had mistaken their import, and that the words ''tis possible,' were not meant to apply to the life of the marchioness, he concluded, that the murder had been committed at a distant period; and he resolved, therefore, to have the ground of the cell dug up, and the remains of his mother sought for.
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