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Tears of utter exhaustion streamed down Bob’s face. But he kept on. Up and down, up and down, he pulled the other’s arms. Just as he was about to give in to the utter refusal of his body to go on, he thought he heard a faint sigh from his comrade. This put new strength in his arms and new ability to continue. He was not mistaken. After another moment Jerry again heaved a long sigh and started breathing, jerkily at first, yet breathing. When Bob was sure that there was no mistake, that Jerry was again in the land of the living, he rolled to one side, absolutely all in.,

Late in the afternoon of the next day the two boys dropped off the train at a little station in the desert. There was no hotel among the houses scattered along the track but they were lucky enough to find a room over the general store in which to sleep.,

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.,

Madame de Menon, whose generous attachment to the marchioness had been fully proved, found in the restoration of her friend a living witness of her marriage, and thus recovered those estates which had been unjustly withheld from her. But the marchioness and her family, grateful to her friendship, and attached to her virtues, prevailed upon her to spend the remainder of her life at the palace of Mazzini.

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“Yes, I know that.”,

“That new treaty clears up the biggest trouble, then, doesn’t it?” said Bob. “But in the early days of settlement I wouldn’t have thought that the Mexicans would have enforced the old treaty.”,

THE FAIRIES,

Ferdinand, in the stillness and solitude of his dungeon, brooded over the late calamity in gloomy ineffectual lamentation. The idea of Hippolitus—of Hippolitus murdered—arose to his imagination in busy intrusion, and subdued the strongest efforts of his fortitude. Julia too, his beloved sister—unprotected—unfriended—might, even at the moment he lamented her, be sinking under sufferings dreadful to humanity. The airy schemes he once formed of future felicity, resulting from the union of two persons so justly dear to him—with the gay visions of past happiness—floated upon his fancy, and the lustre they reflected served only to heighten, by contrast, the obscurity and gloom of his present views. He had, however, a new subject of astonishment, which often withdrew his thoughts from their accustomed object, and substituted a sensation less painful, though scarcely less powerful. One night as he lay ruminating on the past, in melancholy dejection, the stillness of the place was suddenly interrupted by a low and dismal sound. It returned at intervals in hollow sighings, and seemed to come from some person in deep distress. So much did fear operate upon his mind, that he was uncertain whether it arose from within or from without. He looked around his dungeon, but could distinguish no object through the impenetrable darkness. As he listened in deep amazement, the sound was repeated in moans more hollow. Terror now occupied his mind, and disturbed his reason; he started from his posture, and, determined to be satisfied whether any person beside himself was in the dungeon, groped, with arms extended, along the walls. The place was empty; but coming to a particular spot, the sound suddenly arose more distinctly to his ear. He called aloud, and asked who was there; but received no answer. Soon after all was still; and after listening for some time without hearing the sounds renewed, he laid himself down to sleep. On the following day he mentioned to the man who brought him food what he had heard, and enquired concerning the noise. The servant appeared very much terrified, but could give no information that might in the least account for the circumstance, till he mentioned the vicinity of the dungeon to the southern buildings. The dreadful relation formerly given by the marquis instantly recurred to the mind of Ferdinand, who did not hesitate to believe that the moans he heard came from the restless spirit of the murdered Della Campo. At this conviction, horror thrilled his nerves; but he remembered his oath, and was silent. His courage, however, yielded to the idea of passing another night alone in his prison, where, if the vengeful spirit of the murdered should appear, he might even die of the horror which its appearance would inspire.