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“Why do you think he will come here?” asked Bob, amazed at the Indian’s tactics. He didn’t for a moment doubt that Feather-in-the-Wind knew what he was about, yet it surprised him and he wanted an explanation.,

HOW impossible Father was to understand! Why couldn’t he decide about the little horse that Carlstrom had said “the young gentleman” might ride? Johnny Blossom had been out to the Kingthorpe stables a number of times to see the horse. My, oh, my! but it was a beauty! It was small and trim, dun-colored, with black mane; and oh, how swiftly and gracefully it could run on those slender legs! No, Father could have no idea how remarkable it was that Carlstrom had offered to let him ride—and such a horse as that!,

“What’s the rush?” asked Bob. “Found out something?”,

“Yes—it was as unlucky as it could be,” said Tellef. “Perhaps it is as well not to say anything about the umbrella just at first.”

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So Johnny Blossom repeated the little prayers he had said every night since he was two years old, and was soon sleeping peacefully.,

Ferdinand listened to this narrative in silent wonder! wonder not occasioned by the adventure described, but by the hardihood and rashness of the marquis, who had thus exposed to the inspection of his people, that dreadful spot which he knew from experience to be the haunt of an injured spirit; a spot which he had hitherto scrupulously concealed from human eye, and human curiosity; and which, for so many years, he had not dared even himself to enter. Peter went on, but was presently interrupted by a hollow moan, which seemed to come from beneath the ground. 'Blessed virgin!' exclaimed he: Ferdinand listened in awful expectation. A groan longer and more dreadful was repeated, when Peter started from his seat, and snatching up the lamp, rushed out of the dungeon. Ferdinand, who was left in total darkness, followed to the door, which the affrighted Peter had not stopped to fasten, but which had closed, and seemed held by a lock that could be opened only on the outside. The sensations of Ferdinand, thus compelled to remain in the dungeon, are not to be imagined. The horrors of the night, whatever they were to be, he was to endure alone. By degrees, however, he seemed to acquire the valour of despair. The sounds were repeated, at intervals, for near an hour, when silence returned, and remained undisturbed during the rest of the night. Ferdinand was alarmed by no appearance, and at length, overcome with anxiety and watching, he sunk to repose.,

The tumult had continued a considerable time, which the prisoners had passed in a state of horrible suspence, when they heard the uproar advancing towards the vault, and soon after a number of voices shouted down the avenue. The sound of steps quickened. Hippolitus again drew his sword, and placed himself opposite the entrance, where he had not stood long, when a violent push was made against the door; it flew open, and a party of men rushed into the vault.,

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