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“Why in the world should Nils lend you his blouse?”,Surprise and fury sparkled in the eyes of the ruffian, and he turned with a savage desperation upon the count; who, relinquishing Julia, snatched up the sword of the dead ruffian, which lay upon the floor, and defended himself. The combat was furious, but Hippolitus laid his antagonist senseless at his feet. He flew to Julia, who now revived, but who for some time could speak only by her tears. The transitions of various and rapid sensations, which her heart experienced, and the strangely mingled emotions of joy and terror that agitated Hippolitus, can only be understood by experience. He raised her from the floor, and endeavoured to soothe her to composure, when she called wildly upon Ferdinand. At his name the count started, and he instantly remembered the dying cavalier, whose countenance the glooms had concealed from his view. His heart thrilled with secret agony, yet he resolved to withhold his terrible conjectures from Julia, of whom he learned that Ferdinand, with herself, had been taken by banditti in the way from the villa which had offered them so hospitable a reception after the shipwreck. They were on the road to a port whence they designed again to embark for Italy, when this misfortune overtook them. Julia added, that Ferdinand had been immediately separated from her; and that, for some hours, she had been confined in the apartment where Hippolitus found her.,When the first violence of the emotions excited by the late scenes was subsided, he enquired concerning Maria de Vellorno.,When on a dead run he reached the foot of the hill, all the Mexicans had gone, fleeing from what they supposed was a trap.,After having gone deep into the pool, Bob came to the surface, his lungs bursting. One side of his body was numb from the impact of his fall on the surface of the water. Aside from this, he was little the worse for his experience.,“Would you like to hear it again?” asked Johnny, radiant.,“Hold it still, why don’t you?” shouted John. Asta struggled and strove, but without success.,Though jealous, he is still pacific,,“But I haven’t any fine clothes,” said Madame Bakke.,“Haven’t you anything to say for yourself?” snapped the man. “Is Bob right?”,Finally it got too much for Bob and one day, taking his courage in both hands, he blurted forth, “Say, Whisk—Mr. Whitney, what’s gone wrong? Is it anything money won’t cure?” He held his breath awaiting the answer. It was a cheeky, nervy thing to do and if his boss did not take it the right way, he would be perfectly justified in sending him back to the horrible punishment of the draughting room. But he need not have worried. Mr. Whitney was too much of a big boy himself and had too much understanding not to realize that the question had been asked because anything that troubled him meant so much to the boy.,"Who is there?".