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“Well, fellows, what’d you do with yourselves while I was away? Must have been pretty tiresome up at the Canyon, wasn’t it?” It was Mr. Whitney talking. He had told them that his trip to Washington had been a great success. They had sent for him to put him in charge of finishing up the big Rio Grande project. Just think! There they sat, in the sunshine on the wharf, eating from their baskets and having such a good time; and here was he, alone, naked, and so frightfully cold. Boo-hoo-hoo! He wanted to go home to Mother. He might crawl home through the gutters—but what would Mother say if he went home without any clothes? Boo-hoo-hoo! “Gee, but he went quick,” said Bob to himself, “and I wanted to put him wise to Miguel! Well, he’s gone, so there’s no use bothering. Now to tell Mr. Whitney the dope Ted brought!”.

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The spirit which lately animated Julia had vanished with her words—each moment of silence increased her apprehension; the deep brooding of his thoughts confirmed her in the apprehension of evil, and with all the artless eloquence of sorrow she endeavoured to soften him to pity. He listened to her pleadings in sullen stillness. But each instant now cooled the fervour of his resentment to her, and increased his desire of opposing the marquis. At length the predominant feature of his character resumed its original influence, and overcame the workings of subordinate passion. Proud of his religious authority, he determined never to yield the prerogative of the church to that of the father, and resolved to oppose the violence of the marquis with equal force. In the afternoon the policeman called to talk with Father. Father was very serious and Mother looked frightfully worried. Sister Asta stared with open mouth. John had a bitter time of it while the matter was being settled, and afterward Asta’s teasing voice followed him everywhere as she kept calling out: “Credit to the scho-ol! Great credit! Wonderful credit! Credit to the scho-ol!” They disputed over this a long time. As she stood examining the place, vainly looking for Ferdinand, yet fearing to call, lest her voice should betray her, a hollow groan arose from apart of the church very near her. It chilled her heart, and she remained fixed to the spot. She turned her eyes a little to the left, and saw light appear through the chinks of a sepulchre at some distance. The groan was repeated—a low murmuring succeeded, and while she yet gazed, an old man issued from the vault with a lighted taper in his hand. Terror now subdued her, and she utterred an involuntary shriek. In the succeeding moment, a noise was heard in a remote part of the fabric; and Ferdinand rushing forth from his concealment, ran to her assistance. The old man, who appeared to be a friar, and who had been doing penance at the monument of a saint, now approached. His countenance expressed a degree of surprise and terror almost equal to that of Julia's, who knew him to be the confessor of Vincent. Ferdinand seized the father; and laying his hand upon his sword, threatened him with death if he did not instantly swear to conceal for ever his knowledge of what he then saw, and also assist them to escape from the abbey..