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The note of sadness in the latter part of Jerry’s remark struck sharply on Bob’s ears. It flashed on him that there was possibly a reason for his comrade’s fits of silence and grouchiness. This might very well be mixed up with his former life. He made an effort to find out.,

In the lofty, echoing rooms everything had been left undisturbed: the furniture with its silken upholstery, the mirrors reaching from floor to ceiling, the great paintings that filled the walls, and the art treasures, gathered from every corner of the world. Many of these tapestries and vases and statues were extremely rare, but to Johnny Blossom they were only queer, especially a certain Indian idol with an ugly face made of gold. Why should any one want that?,

CHAPTER X,

As he was revolving these things in his mind they came to an opening in the thick brush. It lay right on the edge of the river, close to which they had been traveling. Evidently it was the place that had been decided upon as his prison, for, almost screened by the encroaching scrub oaks, was an adobe hut. Bob could not imagine what it had been used for. As they approached it in the gathering gloom of night, it did not seem to have any opening except a door. No windows were visible from the direction in which they came and Bob doubted if there were any on the other side.

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For a long moment both boys eyed each other without flinching. Then in a flash Bob’s anger fled and he thought clearly. Jerry must not be let out to do more damage. He was too dangerous. He must be caught and put away until the crisis was over. No sooner had the thought flashed through his mind than he acted. Jerry was nearest the door, which was still open, so a leaping tackle was the only thing that would work.,

Bob’s first impulse was to jump in after Jerry, but in a flash he realized he could help him a lot more if he could save the boat and pull him to shore. Grabbing the oars, he made a vain effort to stem the boat’s headway by pulling against the stream. He was too late. The current had the frail craft in its grip.,

“But what?” encouraged Bob.,

Thus lovely, and thus veiled in obscurity, were the daughters of the noble Mazzini. But they were happy, for they knew not enough of the world seriously to regret the want of its enjoyments, though Julia would sometimes sigh for the airy image which her fancies painted, and a painful curiosity would arise concerning the busy scenes from which she was excluded. A return to her customary amusements, however, would chase the ideal image from her mind, and restore her usual happy complacency. Books, music, and painting, divided the hours of her leisure, and many beautiful summer-evenings were spent in the pavilion, where the refined conversation of madame, the poetry of Tasso, the lute of Julia, and the friendship of Emilia, combined to form a species of happiness, such as elevated and highly susceptible minds are alone capable of receiving or communicating. Madame understood and practised all the graces of conversation, and her young pupils perceived its value, and caught the spirit of its character.