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Riccardo solemnly swearing that he knew nothing of the persons described, the duke at length became convinced of the truth of the assertion, and departing from the cave, rejoined his people. All the impetuous passions of his nature were roused and inflamed by the discovery of his son in a situation so wretchedly disgraceful. Yet it was his pride rather than his virtue that was hurt; and when he wished him dead, it was rather to save himself from disgrace, than his son from the real indignity of vice. He had no means of reclaiming him; to have attempted it by force, would have been at this time the excess of temerity, for his attendants, though numerous, were undisciplined, and would have fallen certain victims to the power of a savage and dexterous banditti.,“No, sir, and I haven’t any idea what they’ll do. Anything is likely to happen!”,It was of no use; he must cry. With his head in his mother’s lap he cried hard. Mother stroked his head gently. “Uncle Isaac wished it so much himself, my boy. He was eager to go to God,” she whispered.,“But of course you were very careful how you picked them?”,“Throw some ashore,” suggested Johnny Blossom.,“I think we’d better go back to camp. The shooting over there sounds as if our part of the job is over. Think so?”,“Then that was what you meant when you told us that the laborers wouldn’t be any bother, was it?” asked Bob.,“I don’t know, but I am sure glad they’re here. Maybe they’ll catch those devils and then we won’t ever have any more trouble with ’em. But—listen!”,“I don’t reckon he ought myself,” was the laconic answer. “But he does and that’s about all there’s to it as far as I can figure.”,From which Bob gathered that a telegram had called the boss from the job and that it was his job to sit up alone with his troubles until the Chief chose to come back.,When the marchioness learned the fate of Hippolitus, the resentment of jealous passion yielded to emotions of pity. Revenge was satisfied, and she could now lament the sufferings of a youth whose personal charms had touched her heart as much as his virtues had disappointed her hopes. Still true to passion, and inaccessible to reason, she poured upon the defenceless Julia her anger for that calamity of which she herself was the unwilling cause. By a dextrous adaptation of her powers, she had worked upon the passions of the marquis so as to render him relentless in the pursuit of ambitious purposes, and insatiable in revenging his disappointment. But the effects of her artifices exceeded her intention in exerting them; and when she meant only to sacrifice a rival to her love, she found she had given up its object to revenge.,“The old dam can wait. You did a mighty fine thing for me and I want to know how you managed it.”.