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The Duke de Luovo was of a character very similar to that of the marquis. The love of power was his ruling passion;—with him no gentle or generous sentiment meliorated the harshness of authority, or directed it to acts of beneficence. He delighted in simple undisguised tyranny. He had been twice married, and the unfortunate women subjected to his power, had fallen victims to the slow but corroding hand of sorrow. He had one son, who some years before had escaped the tyranny of his father, and had not been since heard of. At the late festival the duke had seen Julia; and her beauty made so strong an impression upon him, that he had been induced now to solicit her hand. The marquis, delighted with the prospect of a connection so flattering to his favorite passion, readily granted his consent, and immediately sealed it with a promise.,

As he swam nearer to the object which was swirling around in the water, it constantly eluded his grasp, but he saw that it was Jerry. It was as if the river was playing tag with him, snatching the thing he wanted out of his reach. Reason told him that Jerry was dead. What was the use of his trying to keep up this endeavor when it was all so useless? But something kept him striving, held him to his aim. He couldn’t give up. With a last despairing lunge, he shot into the eddy and caught his comrade’s shoulder. With infinite pains he swam with his prize to the bank. Safely there, he had only strength to pull it halfway out of the water.,

So Jerry had not come back. It did not surprise Bob much, but it meant that Jerry had now openly allied himself with the other faction. The fight was to be in the open, from now on. Coming back to himself, he asked: “Where’s Mr. Taylor then?”,

Johnny Blossom took instant alarm. Should he be obliged to live at Kingthorpe in these big, solemn rooms?

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The breeze wafted the ship gently along for some hours, when it gradually sunk into a calm. The glassy surface of the waters was not curled by the lightest air, and the vessel floated heavily on the bosom of the deep. Sicily was yet in view, and the present delay agitated Julia with wild apprehension. Towards the close of day a light breeze sprang up, but it blew from Italy, and a train of dark vapours emerged from the verge of the horizon, which gradually accumulating, the heavens became entirely overcast. The evening shut in suddenly; the rising wind, the heavy clouds that loaded the atmosphere, and the thunder which murmured afar off terrified Julia, and threatened a violent storm.,

While she gazed, she heard a distant chanting rise through the aisles; the sounds swelled in low murmurs on the ear, and drew nearer and nearer, till a sudden blaze of light issued from one of the portals, and the procession entered. The organ instantly sounded a high and solemn peal, and the voices rising altogether swelled the sacred strain. In front appeared the Padre Abate, with slow and measured steps, bearing the holy cross. Immediately followed a litter, on which lay the dying person covered with a white veil, borne along and surrounded by nuns veiled in white, each carrying in her hand a lighted taper. Last came the friars, two and two, cloathed in black, and each bearing a light.,

They unbound the boy and pulled him off the horse. They went rapidly through his pockets and relieved him of everything they could find—his watch, small change, and the jackknife he always carried. Then, before he had a moment to limber up his cramped muscles, he was dumped unceremoniously into the hut and the door was pulled to.,

The group was a little uncomfortable under the direct praise and welcomed the diversion made by Feather-in-the-Wind’s rejoining them, bringing with him a newcomer.