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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.,

“My uncle the Admiral made a speech about me, too,” continued Johnny Blossom.,

“I think you’re right,” put in Jerry. “There ought to be nothing but the United States between Canada and the Panama Canal. But I don’t think we’ll go into Mexico unless the Mexicans raid our territory and kill somebody.”,

Oh, they didn’t know anything about the trouble with Bob, and he didn’t dare to say a word about the racing or anything.

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“Interesting all right, but I wouldn’t swap the Service for it by a long shot!”,

As the first of September drew near, Johnny Blossom could scarcely sit still a minute, he was so full of joy. He asked if he might not go around and invite the guests himself, it would be so jolly.,

“Hurry up, Bob, I tell you!”,

But while remembering that we shall be none the worse tomorrow for having been happy today, we are not permitted to forget entirely the Blue-devil Sprite that awaits the dawn. The play-spell is over; the lights are out in Vanity Fair; and here in Mr. Dulac's drawing is the leader of our Christmas Chorus as he shuts up the box and the puppets—"for our play is played out."