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It was the first blow in the Mexican campaign and at all hazards it must be stopped. Bob knew this and the Indian at his side knew it. Miguel went farther and farther from them towards the center of the river. They could follow him with their eyes as his movements were clearly outlined in the white moonlight. There was no watchman on the coffer dam. There seemed no reason for one; yet Bob realized that a watchman was needed everywhere with this plot seething.,“That’s tough luck,” said Bob, thinking that if he sympathized Jerry might let something fall which would be useful. But his ruse did not work, for Jerry merely said:,A stretch of good going gave them time for a little reflection. Bob busied himself with thoughts of a possible dam site. It seemed queer to him that Jerry had appeared to take no interest in the canyon for this purpose.,It lit, flashing a glare into his eyes so accustomed to the utter darkness. But his gesture had been so violent that the stick broke and the flaming head flew off and fell on the floor.,“All right then, Bob,” encouraged Mr. Whitney. “Start from the beginning and tell us everything that’s happened.”,His mind busy with these thoughts, he found that the long climb to the top did not bother him. After a wash-up he had supper and went out on the hotel piazza. The sun had gone but its last banners of light were flung up against the sky behind the farthest horizon. The depths of the Canyon were black. Out of this rose myriad pinnacles, dim in outline, rich in deep colors. Just at the opposite rim a strip of color spun along, tipping the horizon with a golden glow.,“Ugh! boy!” said Tellef.,Johnny Blossom stood and stared. For his part he would rather have his own mug at home with “For a Good Boy” upon it than all these fine antiques that so many old mouths had drunk from!,“My uncle the Admiral made a speech about me, too,” continued Johnny Blossom.,It was as if the sun were an artist, who, not satisfied with his efforts, changed and changed again the colors on his canvas, for each moment the tints and hues would fade or grow more intense as the shadows grew deeper, and the scene would seem quite different.,Meanwhile Julia, sheltered in the obscure recesses of St Augustin, endeavoured to attain a degree of that tranquillity which so strikingly characterized the scenes around her. The abbey of St Augustin was a large magnificent mass of Gothic architecture, whose gloomy battlements, and majestic towers arose in proud sublimity from amid the darkness of the surrounding shades. It was founded in the twelfth century, and stood a proud monument of monkish superstition and princely magnificence. In the times when Italy was agitated by internal commotions, and persecuted by foreign invaders, this edifice afforded an asylum to many noble Italian emigrants, who here consecrated the rest of their days to religion. At their death they enriched the monastery with the treasures which it had enabled them to secure.,CHAPTER XIV THE UNMASKING OF JERRY.