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Hippolitus, who had languished under a long and dangerous illness occasioned by his wounds, but heightened and prolonged by the distress of his mind, was detained in a small town in the coast of Calabria, and was yet ignorant of the death of Cornelia. He scarcely doubted that Julia was now devoted to the duke, and this thought was at times poison to his heart. After his arrival in Calabria, immediately on the recovery of his senses, he dispatched a servant back to the castle of Mazzini, to gain secret intelligence of what had passed after his departure. The eagerness with which we endeavour to escape from misery, taught him to encourage a remote and romantic hope that Julia yet lived for him. Yet even this hope at length languished into despair, as the time elapsed which should have brought his servant from Sicily. Days and weeks passed away in the utmost anxiety to Hippolitus, for still his emissary did not appear; and at last, concluding that he had been either seized by robbers, or discovered and detained by the marquis, the Count sent off a second emissary to the castle of Mazzini. By him he learned the news of Julia's flight, and his heart dilated with joy; but it was suddenly checked when he heard the marquis had discovered her retreat in the abbey of St Augustin. The wounds which still detained him in confinement, now became intolerable. Julia might yet be lost to him for ever. But even his present state of fear and uncertainty was bliss compared with the anguish of despair, which his mind had long endured. CHAPTER XVI [218]The day and night passed quietly, but the next morning the mess room of the Quarter-house was in a turmoil. News had come in that a gang of Mexican bandits had made a raid on Columbus, killing and wounding many Americans. This report was unconfirmed but rumors flew thick and fast. Some had it that it was the army of Carranza and others that it was merely an unorganized deed of a rash bandit. Most of the men thought it was Villa..

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They decided they might just as well find out if there was any news from Whiskers before they made any move, so they telegraphed to the Grand Canyon, asking that any telegram that had come be forwarded on to them. Then they proceeded to loaf until the answer arrived. "Ah! what have I done?" he exclaimed. "The young wretches shall pay for it, and that at once." He threw a jugful of water in his wife's face, and having brought her to, said, "Quick! fetch me my seven-league boots, that I may go after them and catch them." He set out, and after running in every direction, came at last upon the track of the poor children, who were not more than a hundred yards from their father's house. They saw the ogre striding from hill to hill, and stepping over rivers as easily as if they were the smallest brooks. Little Thumbling, who caught sight of a hollow rock close by where they were, hid his brothers in it, and crept in after them, keeping his eye on the ogre all the while. The ogre, feeling very tired with his long journey to no purpose—for seven-league boots are very fatiguing to the wearer—thought he should like to rest, and, by chance, sat down on the very rock in which the little boys had concealed themselves. As he was quite worn out, he had not rested long before he fell asleep, and began to snore so dreadfully, that the poor children were not less frightened than they were when he took up the great knife to cut their throats. “Sorry,” sympathized Bob, “but I guess they found I’d got out and that scared ’em.” “What the dickens do you mean by not reporting this morning? Just because Mr. Whitney is away, do you think you can take a vacation when you feel like it? And King, too; wait till I get hold of him! But what have you got to say for yourself, young man?”.