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After his writing, he went to the wharf and fished for a while. As it happened he caught nothing, but it was fun enough just to put out the rod and draw it in again.,

“He’s mean, he is. It’s mine!”,

There they stood, and the executioners were preparing to fling them into the copper, when the King, who was not expected back so soon, entered the courtyard on horseback. He had ridden post-haste, and in great astonishment asked what was the meaning of this horrible spectacle? No one dared tell him, when the ogress, enraged at what she saw, flung herself head foremost into the copper, where she was instantly devoured by the horrid reptiles, with which she had herself caused it to be filled. The King could not help being sorry for it; she was his mother; but he quickly consoled himself with his beautiful wife and children.,

There was no time in which to gather his nerves together. He must act and act at once. So, pulling himself up with as little noise as possible, he peered over. No Miguel was in sight. But a hundred feet down the dam was a tiny thread of white smoke shining gray in the moonlight. With a despairing sob he leaped towards it as fast as his soaked clothes would let him.

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He now for the first time stopped to listen—the sounds of pursuit were ceased, and all was silent! Continuing to wander on in effectual endeavours to escape, his hands at length touched cold iron, and he quickly perceived it belonged to a door. The door, however, was fastened, and resisted all his efforts to open it. He was giving up the attempt in despair, when a loud scream from within, followed by a dead and heavy noise, roused all his attention. Silence ensued. He listened for a considerable time at the door, his imagination filled with images of horror, and expecting to hear the sound repeated. He then sought for a decayed part of the door, through which he might discover what was beyond; but he could find none; and after waiting some time without hearing any farther noise, he was quitting the spot, when in passing his arm over the door, it struck against something hard. On examination he perceived, to his extreme surprize, that the key was in the lock. For a moment he hesitated what to do; but curiosity overcame other considerations, and with a trembling hand he turned the key. The door opened into a large and desolate apartment, dimly lighted by a lamp that stood on a table, which was almost the only furniture of the place. The Count had advanced several steps before he perceived an object, which fixed all his attention. This was the figure of a young woman lying on the floor apparently dead. Her face was concealed in her robe; and the long auburn tresses which fell in beautiful luxuriance over her bosom, served to veil a part of the glowing beauty which the disorder of her dress would have revealed.,

The next morning Johnny awoke early and was wide awake at once. That fishing rod from Uncle Isaac—out on the veranda—suppose some one had taken it! He put on his clothes in the greatest haste. Later he would wash himself and dress properly, but the only thing now was to see whether the fishing rod was safe. Yes, wonderfully enough, there it was. No one had touched it, so far as he could see.,

This maneuver was executed without mishap and the only person who saw him go in was the Mexican cook, who paid little attention.,

“I guess he thinks the Gringo got mixed up with a charge of dynamite!” was the boy’s reflection as he scuttled up to his room.