Enterea According to Act of Congress, tn the Fear 1874 SD) »_by Street & Smith tn the Office of the Librarian of Conaress. Washington, D, C. Vou. XXX, STREET w& SMITH Proprietors. THE HAUNTED MILL. BY NATHAN D. URNER. Tt stands, as it stood in the ancient time, At the feot of Ramoth Hill; The walis are broken and stained with grime, And the wheeis have long stood still; And the river that lent it its rushing race Hath dwindled away to a rill, And the grim rocks frown severely down On the old and Haunted Mill. But at night, when the stroke of twelve.resounds From the village church: afar, Strange lite awakes in the old mill’s bounds And throbs on till the Morning Star. The river brims to its olden banks, Tlie mighty wheels go round, The main-belt snaps, the ring-bolt clanks, With hollow and ghastly sound. The miller and bis men awake, ” The phantom work begins, The wheels turn round, the hoppers shake, The flour falls into the bins; And in and out through the moldy doors The sacks are carried with care, And to and fro o’er the dusty floors Move the phantom figures there. And the work goes on with rattle and rout Till the hour of darkness wanes, When stillness falls, and the light goes out From the meal-dulled window-panes. All is dead as before till the farm-fow! crows, When a shriek through the stillness rings; There echo the sounds of oaths and blows, And a shape from the old mill springs. A woman’s shape, all a-fluttering its white robe stained with blood, Wringing its hands, hke a hunted thing, And rushing toward the flood, Into which it springs, with a parting yell, While a hoarse laugh sounds from the mili— A terrible laugh, as from utter hell— And all once more is still. These are the sights that have oft teen seen, if the gossips’ tales be true, And whatever of long-gone crime they may mean, Dear reader, I leave to you. I only know that it stands, as of yore, At the foot of Ramoth Hill, And the grim rocks beetle in blackness o’er The old and Haunted Mill, > ©-+4+——__ -— Mezzoni The Brigand; ~— OR, —— KING OF THE MOUNTAINS. By Lieutenant Murray, Author of RED RUPERT THE ARKANSAS RANGER; SPANISH MUSKETEER; SCAR- LET FLAG; ITALIAN CONTRABANDIST; CHILD OF THE SEA; BUCCANEERS, etc. [‘‘Mezzoni the Brigand’’ was commenced in No. 3. Back num- bers cun be obtained of any News Agent in the United States.] CHAPTER VIII. A WOMAN’S HONOR. Within twenty-four hours of the circumstance detailed in the last chapter, Beppo, the man-servant of Alberto Corrello, was summoned to the entrance of his. master’s palace by avery different person from the old woman wilh the parrot story, aud whose real character was un- suspected. Tuis time it was a lady, closely vailed, yet showing enough of her face to exhibit its remarkable beauty, who demanded, in decided, but courteous terms, entrance to his master’s apartment. “But, madame, I have no right to admit any one, and my master is not at home,’’ said the servant, dreading to make another mistake. “I Know that he is absent. I meet him by appointment.”’ “He has left no instructions,’’ said Beppo, much puzzled as to what he should do. ‘Jt is all right,” responded the lady, crowding past the servant and quietly directing him to close the door behind her. ‘*You may cost me my place,’’ said Beppo. “Jf 1 do,” she answered, “you shall have a better one,” at the same time placing a gold piece in his hand. There seemed nothing to be doue on the part of the ser- vant but toshow the stranger to his master’s sitting- room, where she seated herself and said she would await Afberto’s return. She had thrown back her vail as she became seated, displaying a face of youth and beauty with an eager and nervous expression, which lighted up her deep biack eyes and higlteued the rich color of her com- plexion. To the servant’s announcement thata lady awaited him in his sitting-room, his master replied sternly, upbraiding bim for admilting any one, saying: “This is the second time within twenty-four hours that you have disobeyed my orders. Beware of the third and Jast time!” Then turning away from the trembling Beppo, he sought his own apartment. He could not imagine what lady should cali on hin. As he entered tiie room the lady turned her beautiful face upon him, covered with blushes! The astonishment of Alberto Corrello was plainly depicted upon his face—in- deed, for a moment, he could not speak for the surprise which mastered him. _At last he said, almost in a whis- per, as he leaned upon a chair for support: “Signora Amadea, what does this mean ?’? ‘‘Alberio!l’’ she sighed, with downcast eyes and burning cheeks. “Is it possible that you have run such a risk as this?” ‘JT woukl dare anything, Alberto, for you,’ she said without lifting her eyes to his face. ‘You cannot have been observed—your absence from home is not yet noticed. Hasten, I pray you, hasten away.” “Do you dismiss me thus, Alberto, you for whom I have risked everything in order to oblain this interview ?’’ “Signora, thiuk of the count, of yourown honor. This is Madness.’ “Alberto, [love you!’ “Hush! No more,” he said, nervously. part instantly.’ “It is too jate to turn back now, after such a step as I have taken,” “No one but my servant has seen you, and he does not know your face. Besides,’ he added, ‘I control the fel- low’s Longue,” “Are you made of stone, Alberto Corrello? Have you forgotten those early vows??? she asked, gazing into his face with her luminous eyes. “Nay, nay, signora, speak not of the past. Ket us lose notime. Hasten away, I beg of you. Your secret is safe With me.” : “Ail then is in vain,’ she sighed, covering her face with 1€Y Vail. He took her arm and hurried her down the broad mar- ble stairs to the entrance, and bade her not pause for one instant at the front, but to go with the speed of the wind to her own door, which was near at hand. Strange fatality ! Just as Alberto opened the door for the signora to de- part, he saw distinctly her husband, the Count Amadeo, passing, Who regarded him with Keen scrutiny, though ev- idently at the moment not recognizing that the woman just making her exit from the Correilo palace was his own wile 1 To the American reader such an intrigue would seeem to be alinost impossible, but it is the normal condition among a certain Class of fashionable French and Italian men and women, Thesin of such unfaithfulness is not He will soon be in again. “You must de- bth wean Nos. 27, 29, 31 Rose St., P.O. Box 4896, New York. Three Dollars Per Two Copies Five Dollars. Sree Year. NEW YORK, DECEMB thd sfaniona altnoes screa wed. ER 7, 1874. —— —~ —+-—- 4 Signora Amadeo, young, handsome, romantic, was mar- ried by her parents to the rich old count whose name she bore, but for whom she cared not the least in the way of affection. It was useless to disguise the fact. No real domestic tie bound them to each other. She had been fascinated by the handsome face and per- son of Alberto Corrello. The stories of his duels, and his extravagauice at play, also, to her romantic nature proved a singular attraction. She remembered, too, that they had been children together, and had whispered love tales into each other’s ears; and she remembered also, that but for his presumed poverty in those days he might have been her husband. All these thoughts had been brooded upon until in one mad moment she had adopted a reck- less plan to surprise him within his own paluce, as we have described. We will not attempt to analyze the reason of Alberto’s coolness toward the Signora Amadeo. So daring a man was not deterred from an intimacy by any such draw- back as fear of personal harm, and we may suppose that he was in some degree governed by a lingering sense of honor. Possibly there came before his mind’s eye, also, the recollection of that-past to which she had referred. AS we shall have occasion to see before the elose of the present chapter, this notorious gambler, this degenerate scion of a once noble house, this reckless duelist, was not entirely selfish and without a seuse of honor left. He was, let his accumulated sins be what they might, still capable of truly chivalrous conduct. Thus, whatever baseness may control the human instincts at times, there will still remain upon the most.abandoned soul the half-effaced image of its Maker. The Count Amadeo thought that he discovered some- thing very familiar to himin the form and movement of the lady whom he had just seen quitting the Corrello pal- ace. lt was very odd. He therefore kept his eye npon the lady until, to his profound amazement, he saw her, after hastening with all possible speed, finally enter his own doors. Could it be his wife whom he had thus detected stealing from the gates of that notorious gambler? Was he in his right senses? he asked himself. He-had never suspected his wife of disloyalty since, ten years and more ago, he had led her, a mere girl, to the sacred marriage altar. It is true that this marriage, like nine-tenths of those which take place aluong his class of society, had been one of mu- tual convenience between her parents and himself, the lady’s predilections being quite a secondary consideration in the affair. She had never pretended to love the count. Indeed, she had scarcely seen him twice when she was informed by her mother of the proposed alliance. She was a woman, and therefore was to be married; she belonged to a titled family, and therefore must marry in her own rank; the family were poor, therefore she must make a rich connection. This was the whole story. Count Amadeo rusiied after his wife, in a frame of mind which rendered him forthe moment quite frantic with rage. He was too much @ man of the world, however, to desire any publicity as to his domestic relations. He did not forget, on this trying occasion, that he was compara- tively an old man, and that his wife was young enough to be his daughter, a feature which the gossips were al- ways sure to seize upon. He even paused, excited as he was, to anticipate the scandal which any indiscretion on his part would be sure to arouse among the busy public, the Keenest of which seemed to be, with the count, the possible anc usual re- mark: “Served him right for marrying a young girl!’ All these thougiits ran in rapid succession through his mind, and led him to enter his house quietly, as though nothing unusual had occurred. He went, however, im- mediately to his wife’s apartment, and broached the sub- ject atonce. He could not have remained silent a mo- ment. “Signora.”’ “Well, count.’’ “Il saw you but a moment since,” he began, ‘‘coming from the door of the Correilo Palace.” ‘Very possibly,’ she replied, after a moment’s pause, ‘as L have just come from there.’? “You own it umbiushingly ?” “I do,’ she answered, boldly; ‘for the very reason that [ have done nothing to blush for.” ‘Do you dare to assert this?” “Unhesitatingly.”’ “Wiiy, signora, [saw that Alberto Corrello let you out of the door himself.’ “True, he would protect me from scandal, and so did not call a servant.”’ ' “That was very considerate on his part, certainly,’’ sneered the husband. “I thought so,” said the countess, as she quietly threw off her vail and mantle. The count retired fora moment to his private cabinet, and almost instantly returned, locking the door as he did 80, and et the same lime taking a pistol from his pocket and cocking it, he said: “Signora, if you do not speak the truth I wiil kill you!” As he spoke he stepped immediately before her. She Was a timid woman, and at once was almost frightened ont of her senses. Whiat could she do? What excuse offer for her shameful conduct? Sle had never seen her husband look so fierce and so much in earnest before. His angry words and expression drove all reason out of her mind, She would do anything to purchase her safety for the moment. With them in its commission, but in its discovery. The “] will. I will!’ she almost screamed, and fell upon her Knees, “Are you guilty with that man?! “As I hope for Heaven, no.”? “Why were you there then ?? “He enticed me to come, but——’’ she sfammered, and could hardly finish the lie. “But you did not yield to his allurements. you would say ?”’ “It is,’ she replied; ‘‘andin the name of Heaven! swear there is no guilt between us.’? “Enough,” said the count, replacing his pisto}] in his pocket. ‘I believe you.”’ “And forgive me ?”’ “For this first step, yes.” “It shall be the last,!? she said, earnestly, rising from her humble position. *[ will trust so,” said the connt, deliberately. ‘But as for that smooth-faced gamester, thit duelist, he shall give an account of himself, and be metwith the weapon lie is 80 fond of using ?’’ *You would not fight him??? “We shall see.’? The trembling wife, who had liedso shamefully to screen herself from the violence and jus! anger of ker husband, was left alone at last. Now stepped in the inevitabl: Nemesis, for crime, wrong, and falsehood, are sure tcentail misery, whether openly denounced or only acknoviedged in secret. The Signora Amadeo despised lerself for charging that man with the endeavor to ruin he, or intimating that by some subterfuge hie had: induced her to visit his palace. The last words of her enraged hisband still rung in her ears. She knew only too well tat a duel must follow. In the wickedness of her heart me even wondered if in case they should fight, the countvould not be the most likely to fall, and Aiberto be spard to her! But if Alberto were to fall, ais! he whom she now loved, would she not be his muderess? She felt that already she was being fearfully pnished for her wicked- ness. She paced resilessly up axl down in the narrow apartment, like a caged wild anmal, pausing now and then to wring her hands in nervas agony of mind. In a splendidly-lighted and spzious apartment on the Strada di Chiaja, the same nigh that the scene just de- scribed took piace, Alberto Corrdo might have been seen at the gaming table, stakihg his zold with all his accus- tomed recklessness, winning an losing with apparently the same heedlessness. : It was a gay and profligate scne, of which he was the center, for none pixyed so contiuously and heavily as he. Alberto was watched by manycurious eyes, but he re- garded them not at all, his dle attention being ab- sorbed by the game before hil. He would pass hours thus, night after night; it seemd to be his only recrea- tion. When the game was at its hint, the Count Amedeo en- ! tered the brilliant hall; and wiked at once tothe side nearest to Alberto Corrello. Wthout the least ceremony he touched him upon the sbulder with -his hand, and said: “A word with you in private’ “In a moment,’’ was the rey. Alberto staked another sunin gold, lost it, and then turned and said coolly: “T am at your service.’’ “This way,’ said the count. The two men sought a priate room of the establish- ment, and after the door ld been closed, the count said: “IT saw my wife leaving youhis evening.” “Well?” “Hurrying secretly from yor palace.” *“*Well?”? “Ay, but it is not well. want at your palace?’ “You had better ask the lay.’? **T have done so.”’ ‘“‘What did she say ?’! “She said that you enticedher there to ruin her, but that slie tinally succeeded ineaving your palace without being dishonored.’ As the count said theserords he struggled to keep calm, compressing his fingewo fiercely as to nearly drive the nails through the flesh. “Did the Signora Amadesay that?” asked the other, firmly, but quietly, while heegarded the count with his keenest look, “She did.” “Of course the lady couldpeak naught but the truth,”’ Said Alberto, bilterly, thous he would not betray the falsehood of the woman wi) had cast her honor at his feet. “Oan you confirm her oatof innocence ?"’ “In any way you may gest,’ responded Alberto, firmly. “The signora Ameo is a8 innocent as an angel, so far as 1 am concerned.’? “I beiieve both my wile al you speak truly,” said the count. “Now, Alberto Corllo, we must meet and settie this matter at ouce.”’ “You have the right to dnand this, when and where you please.*? “Let it ve to-morrow the at noon, behind the park of Capodimonte.’ “it is well.*? The two men then separed, after each had agreed to appoint secouds as their preseutatives, to arrange the usual detaiis In such eucoiters. Is that what Wat did the Signora Amadeo losing his life. However, he could not hesitate to take this course under the circumstances of the case. In con- nection with the code of honor which existed among his Class, and under which he had lived from his birth, he would be counted a very poltroon and coward were heto do otherwise. The whole affair presented, as we have before said, a singular anomaly in the character of Alberto Corrello. He had shrewdly drawn out from the husband the position Which his wife took in the matter, and though it con- demned himself, his chivalric instinct was quite sufficient to sustain the lady’s story and toaver her innocence, sustaining it at the risk of his own life. We are accustomed to associate such delicacy and manliness—for this it was on his part—with other excel- lencies of a noble character, in those who exhibit them. But here was a man with but few virtues, yet who would not save himself by telling even the truth at the lady’s expense? We should not have been led to believe him capable of such magnanimity, yet who has not, at times, been surprised by just such contradictions in character? The seconds duly held their meeting and arranged all preliminaries, The weapons pistols, the distance thirty paces, the two principals to turn and fire at the word “‘three,’? the count being, one, two, three.’”? The seconds even, were not permitted to know the cause of the quarrel, so the lady’s honor, in any iustance, was carefully preserved. This last idea was at the suggestion of Alberto, and gladly received by the count, who, as we have seen, was peers sensitive about publicity regarding his domestic affairs, At the time appointed the two men faced each other in the rear grounds of the park at Capodimonte. -They were draped in black, and each quietly and soberly saluted the other as he took the place assigned to him by the seconds. One of the seconds was selected to give the count by which they were to fire. All being clearly understood, the weapons were now loaded and put into the hands of the combatants, There was a few moments’ pause, very solemn and very silent. Then came the words: “Gentlemen, are you ready ?”? Yes,’ was the united answer. Another pause. Tien: “One—two—three!’’ At the word “two,’? Count Amadeo’s pistol was heard and Alberto Corrello was seen to start involuntarily, but to instantly compose himself again. Then he quietly un- cocked the pistol, which he had not fired, and returned it to his second as he said: “T have no desire for the count’s life.” “Tam ready for your fire,’ said his antagonist, still standing in his place, ‘‘Are you satisfied ?’? said Alberto. “1 am. “It is sufficient then,’? said Alberto. . “Are you wounded ?"’ asked the surgeon, approaching his side. ‘Il saw you start.’ “Slightly in the shoulder,’ he replied. quiring your skill, I think.” “T must see at all events.”? And at the urgent demand of the physician, he took off his coat and showed a flesh wound, but not of a danger- ous character, in the left shoulder. This being properly bandaged, he sought his horse near by, and rode back alone to the city. Signora Amadeo knew by some means of all this, and that Alberto had corroborated her false story in order to screen her honor. With womanly persistency, from that hour she hated her husband, aud loved Alberto all the more earnestly. ‘Hardly re- OHAPTER IX. A SPY IN THE CAMP. We will return with the reader to the robbers’ cave in the mountains, where we left Marion Bray impatiently awaitiug her deliverance. This stronghold in the nearly inaccessible hills had been well chosen, for the locality was a hidden mystery to those who did not Know the secret paths among the rocks and the volcanic soil which formed the mountains, The cave, as we have already signified, was formed partly by nature and partly by the hand of man. It was sufficiently spacious to afford various rooms or divisions for domestic purposes—for the storage of such booty as it was desirable to Keep here, and also affording safe keeping for the confinement of prisoners held for ransom, as in the case of the English girl. The stewardess, of whom We have had occasion to speak as waiting upon Marion Bray, had charge of inside mat- ters, aud it was surprising to see low very neat and clean every thing was kept. This was so obvious that Marion had more than once complimented the patient and indus- trious womans The cave was not floored, all lived upon ihe stones or earth, as chanced to be the case, and it was all the more difficult to keep them cleanly. There were a irst and second lieutenant in charge of the cuve and the men, and the respect paid to their orders and position was a narked feature of their mutual inter- course. A plain sort of undress uniform was worn by all, and the two officers bore a simple insignia of their rank on their left breasts, besides which, unlike the other men, they wore at all times ashort, serviceable sword at the side. They unswered every morning at roll call, and puraded at given hours like a regular military corps. A heavy rock was so poised that wilh litthe exertion it could be thrown across the opening or entrance to the The count knew very wi that Atberto Corrello was a ‘*Will you tell me the truth ??? famous slot, and therefe that he ran a great risk of cave, While loop-holes appeared through interstices of the ; FRANCIS 8S. STREET, FRANCIS S. SMITH. without themselves being in danger. The plateau in front of the stronghold had been cleared of rocks and everything that might afford shelter to an attacking party, thus showipg that every precaution had been taken. There were always two men on guard, night and day, one being placed ner the entrance to the cave, and another down the only path leading to the plateau, some dozen rods, and at special times still another was added farther down the mountain within hailing distance of the last. There was no drinking or carousing; the men played games, practiced feats of strength, aud amused themselves in a quiet, ratiouai Manner, when not out on actual service. Undoubtedly it was owing to the excelient organization of these banditti that they had been enabled for years to defy the government, aud tocarry on such a successful career of public plunder in Neapolitan territory. The stranger who had been brought in, aud who was found straggling in the hills, he who had. so thoroughly beaten Vecchio in the stand-up-fight, had made friends with one and all since that day. Tie leader of the gang had not yet made his appearance among them, so that the Levanter, as he was ealled, had not regularly joined the banditti. He entered into all their pastimes, however, and was allowed entire liberty in and about the cave, though he was not permitted to carry any arms about his person. This showed a little distrust, or at least not entire confi- dence in the new comer, but he had not yet been accépted by the captain, which acceptance was a needed endorse- ment to-fit him for full confidence.’ If the officer in charge had not believed in the honesty of the Levanter, or if he had found any cause to distrust him, his life would atonce have been the sacrifice. These people had no court-martial to resort to; their judgment was quick and decisive. There was no scarcity of guns and pistols in the maga- zine of the cave, one whole apartment being used as a sort of arsenal, Its walls being hung around in a fantastic manner-with various kinds of weapons, daggers, long knives, with sheaths, short sabers, ranged in star shape upon the sides, and plenty of powder and ball. The place could have endured a prostrated seige if required. Marion Bray, as she had written to her father, was made as comfortable as possible under the cireumstances, and save the one great wrong of her abduction, she had very littie to complain of against the banditti. No great degree of surveillance was deemed to be necessary in hér case, for were she to attempt to escape, what could a girl do, unaided, in that most desolate and pathless region ? Still she was not aliowed to leave the cave, and at nigix. was securely locked within her apartment. One evening, after sie had been thus locked in for the: night, she was suddenly startled by hearing her name: repeated: ‘‘Marion—under the door!’ On hearing these words she looked down at her feet, and’saw a folded bit of paper, which she seized an@ in- stantly concealed with jealous care. What could it mean? There was not sufficient light for her to read whatever might be written upon that scrap of paper. Who could have placed it there? She was compietely at a loss to | arrive at any plausibieconjecture. Al any rate there must be some friend near her, that wag plain enough. It did bot seem possible for her to wait jor dayltighs to examine the paper; Sat she did so, weakine ap a Hoe Wie ee the hight, and longing impatiently fur the co: dawn. It came at last, for there is an end to the longest night, though it hardly seemed so to the over-auxious girl. As te as the daylight was sufficient inside her prison, she read: MARION:—Be of good cheer. anything you may see or hear. Be prepared at any and all times for instant flight. Save a little food in. your pocket at each meal. 1] am disguised and carefully wateh- ed, so I have to be extremely cantious. Destroy this in- Stantly by chewing it up toa pulp, and secreting it amoug the crevices in your apartment. Be cautious! W. H. Marion’s heart seemed to be in her throat—it beat so aed as almost to stop her breath. She trembled like a eal. “Was it possible ?? she asked herself. The English girl’s own feelings told her who was the friend near to her in this critical moment, and yet she was extremely puzzled, for her father had written to her that Waiter Hammond had been suddenly called home by a cabletelegram. Butshe already knew his handwriting, and though these lies were only penciled, she recognized them at once. She feit-a confidence spring up in her bosom. Tle stout arm that had saved her life amid the waves of the sea on that fearful day of the catastrophe at Capri, was equal to bringing about her deliveratice from the banditti. Pressing her hands nervously upon her heart, she said to herself: “I will strive to be patient, and to be prepared for what- ever may occur, as he directs, and above ali to be careful. A word or look might betray him. How can he be here undiscovered by these desperate people ?”” The reader has doubtiess already penetrated the suc- cessful disguise of the Levanter. To deceive those robbers required.a skill and patience which Walter Hammond at first found to be very difficult, but favored by good fuck, and aided by his own indomitable perseverance, he finally succeeded even better than he had hoped to do. Some coup de main was, of course, necessary to interest the brigands in him, otherwise he knew that if they were to tolerate his presence for a day, they would be sure to get rid of him in some way. Chance aided him in impressing the gang with his prowess as we have seen. His college training in alt manner of athletic sports now served him in carrying out the character which he assumed. He had been long enough accustomed to the sea to make his pretended escape from the Euglish man-of-war appear exceedingly probable, and there was not any part of his masquerade which he had not carefully weighed before adopting it, hence his success with the robbers. Fearing the bare possibility of betrayal by some unlucky means, he had kept his hazardous purpose a seeret even from Qolonel Bray, and that cable telegram was answered on the day it was received by a respouse that he wonld unavoidably be detained for a period of some weeks. He then wrote a letter to follow, giving some plausible ex- cuse for his delay, which should be quite Salisfuctory to the family at home. His arrangements for the dangerous experiment which he had resoived to try, were soon perfected, and at once put in practice. Assuming the dilapidated dress of a sailor, and taking nothing with him except a couple of American revolvers and &@ keen dirk-knile, he picked up incidentally such in- formation as he could obiain, without betraying his de- sign, and then dashed boldly into the mountains, Here he wandered on and on, euduring for some days great hardship from hunger aud want of rest, until one night he got upon a point overlooking the rebbers’ cave to which his vision was directed by a moving light. He rightly conjectured that he had at last diseowered the head- quarters of the brigands, He markedthe spot carefully, tien approached as hear as he thought to be safe, and secreting his pistols and knife, together with a small flask of brandy, which he had carefully preserved for ‘special, purposes, he lay down and slept until morning. Then his wish was to be seized by. the guard and brought into their quarters as a straggier, atLo£ which had occurred, as he designed. He had carried his: ingenious plau to so hice an extreme as to nearly starve himself, and when brought to the cave he had not tasted food for twenty-four hours, All this, of course, added to the plausbbility ef his story. He had carefully stained his Mesh to leok like that of one accustomed to great exposure, and had freeiy added a oat of dirt over all. His success was complete. “You are growing fat and hearty,” said the heutenant of the gang to him one day. “Ah! we were overworked on board ship and half. starved,’*? was the reply. ‘‘And here you have nothing to do, and all day to do it in,’? jaughingiy replied the other, “One mends rapidly in the mountain airs it is better than at sea.” ; “You were a very sorry sight when you first came in,”’ said the lieutenant, “Yes, | was nearly starved, and had been lost for days in the mountains,” “You were hungry enough, and ate ten men’s ratiens on that first meal.’ The officers and men chatted familiarly with him now. There was no longer any restraint between them. He made himself pleasant company bg the stories which he told and was really a growing favorite, “Where is your captain?” he asked of the lieatenant, who had just been talking with him. “He doesn’t appear among us unless there is business bg of The d Do not be surprised at walls, where the garrison could pick off an outside foe on hand."’ eee rte Reena “Mezzoni they call hin?” “Yes. “Where does he live?” “No one asks’ questions about Mezzoni. None know anything about him. It is nota safe subject to talk about, Levauter.”’ : “One would like to know his captain, especially in so peculiar.a service.” y “You will never know Mezzoni, even if you were with us for years.”? *Queer.”? ‘It is hig will, and he knows best. He keeps us all like princes, and whatever he inaugurates always proves a -puccess,’? “Are you often 80 long idle as you have been lately?! asked the Levantery).. ist nas tact ee tT Raita long vacation ‘gince wer “No; Wwe have he that girl yonder tO the cave.’ “She’s to be ransomed ??’ my ves.’? a r j “Do the friends always pay?” ‘+A Lways,”? ae “Supposing they refuse ?”? j 7 “We have had one such instance. The gravels just over the hill,” was hig significant answer. ‘‘We made an ex- ample of.the man for the/bénefit ef others,” “Was that yey Me #4 “Four years ago.” “Rather rough,’? said the Levanter, “It was necessary.’? «Of course, ‘Walter Hammond dared not evince the least interest.in theease of the English girl, and he had strenu- ously avoided ever mentioning her name among the gang, or referring in the most distant manner to there being a prisoner atthe cave. When the lieutenant referred to her he passed the matter over lightly, and was careful not to awellupon it, He had thus far succeeded even better than he would have dared to hope, and he did not propose Lo lnar the consummation of his plans by avy indiscretion. About this time the prisoner received another penciled scrap, thrust under her door in the same mauner as be- fore, as follows: MARION:—-Get by some means a pair of the woman’s bootees and wear them. Say that your shoes pain your feet—say something, but get them. Your slippers are too frail for attempting the rocky paths of these mountaius, J am more and more trusted every day. Be ready! Destroy this as usual, . Marion read this over several times, then she destroyed it as she:had done before, at once entering into negotia- tions with her attendant for obtaining a pair of her strong and serviceable laced boots. ‘She realized what this pre- caution signified, aud she felt sure that Walter was quiet- ‘ly biding his time. She determined to be ready to respond at any hour when called upon, night or day. The young girl could hardly say which thought most strongly dwelt in her mind, the devotion and gallantry of the young American or the possibility of escape. She certainly felt that escape would be undesirable without him. ‘Walter Haminond, it must not be supposed, was ad- mitted to the councils of the gang. Such confidence would have been unreasonable at this juncture of his con- nection with them. He was enabled to observe, however, that something was going on different from usual, and that the men seemed to be prepariug for some expedition of more than ordinary importance, Their arms were carelully ipspected, and they were paraded and exercised twice each. day, until his curiosity Was tlloroughly aroused. He dared not appear curious, however, aud would not permit himself to ask any ques- ‘tions relative to these movements, He quietly looked on with assumed indifference at everythiug he saw. CHAPTER X. POISONED! Count Amaceo's secret, with regard to the cause of his late duel, was well kept, 80 much so that his most inti- mate friends never fora moment suspected its real im- portance. A singular depression seemed to take possession of the count, however, and he grew:more sober and taciturn. He had thought in -secret very intently upon the duel and :its canse, and had been more and more impressed with the arkable behavior of. Alberto.Corrello. 46 . y ‘Gallty men do not.conduct themselves in that man- ner,’ he said to himself, Asto Signora Amadeo, she too seemed tobe greatly changed of late. She brooded over her disgrace with her husband, though not because she honestly repented of her -guilty love for the roué of the .Corrello family. She dreamed of him still; indeed her passion, though now more guarded, had taken the form of mania, and was the more dangerous from its smoldering .charagter. She watched him, herself unseen, in a thensand different Ways, and said to herself, ‘Since he has risked his life and has been wounded rather than.to expose me, I. will un- hesitatingly risk all aud everything for him.” She meant ail.she declared. Count Amadeo was over sixty years Of age,.and either naturally decaying powers, or the mental trouble this sub- ject had caused him, seemed, as we have intimated, to seriously wearupon him, He grew languid, remained muuch at home, slept alarge portion of the time, two- thirds at least of the twenty-four hours, and in short was plainly asick man. His physician vas called Lo see him, but beyond a few simple suggestions, recommended notht- ing, declaring to some of his anxious friends that the Count was growing old, and there was no disguising so Plain a fact. The physician being more closely .questioned saidjthat he thought he would soon be better, and in the meantime ie would give him tonics, Let her intidelity of heart be as,earnest agit might, nora Amadeo seemed to make up for it inj her cha of nurse/for she pgrmitted no want of havali wever trifiMig it might.be, to go y voting many hours Of the day and night tovhis care, made nu parade ofihis, but. simply seemed to be doing the conscientious duty of a devoted wife. Lhe oid count himself.was manifestly touched by this unusual attention, and the self-abnegation which it entailed. It needed not the hints of his friends to lead him to observe this charac- teristic of his wife. He wasa tender and appreciative husband after all; a gentleman at heart jn all things. The count spoke very kiudly to his wife upon all matters, intimated tliat he had entirely forgiven her for that little piece of youthful indiscretion, as he was pleased to term it, relating to her visit to the Corrello palace, and promised as soon. as his own health should be sufficieutly tinproyed, to consult her wishes more closely in ail things. They would go to Paris, where she had So long desired to pass a season, and she should have her own special carriage, a light and graceful toy which should be imported especially from America tor her. He appeared to enjoy laying out plans for. her future enjoyment as he lay there invalided. “Yon are only too good to me,” she would reply, with assumed tenderness. “Well, my dear, it.is because you are s0.very,good to me,’”’ he wonld reply. ; And then she would leave him, and 2 hypocrisy, would.sit gloomily alone, an passion for Alberto, _ ” ‘The days passed rapidly on, and the count grew worse ‘and worse, watil his physician began to shake his head and talk about,rapid consumption, to intimate that the patient was a very sick man, in short that his symptoms indicated rapid and fatal decay of vital powers. The wife heard this with well-affected sadness, and thought that it was by no meaus best to tell the count of his true con- dition, uniess it might render him fatally nervous, With this view of the Siguora Amedeo concerning lier hus- band, the physician and one of his professional brethren called in for mere form’s sake, entirely agreed, and there- fore the sick man sank gradually without himself being aware tliat le was so seriously ill, or so absolutely near to his end. Perliaps the possibility of his sickness proving fatal dawned upon him; if so, however, it must have been go faint a8 to make littie impression. But the old man faded rapidly, day by day, so that there could be no doubt of his real condition. Friends began to look grave. Finally the physician’s sense of professional duty com- petled hima to intimate to the count, very gently, that it was always best to be prepared, but still not to look on the dark side. He said that he thought all people who lay sick were more at ease, and more likely to get well, if the mind was eontented, andif he (the count) thought of any business arrangement, looking to the possibility of death which required adjustment, perliaps it would be best to have the matter attended to, : “[ am entirely prepared in that respect,’? said the sick an. “Anh, that is well,” said the doctor. you know, but safe.” ea : ; “J have le{t everything to my good wife here,’’ he con- tinued, aud as he said so he stretched out his hand feebly to Siguora Amadeo, ; . “How. hot your hands are!’? she exclaimed with a shud- der, as he touched her own. ae “Yes, I feel as though there was a fire inside of me,” he replied. , “He is feverish to-day,” said the doctor, some cooling drops.”’ el aitte E : «Please to do so, doctor, and write Gown the directions as to giving them,” said the wife. “Ol give them freely, they are innocent and cannot do any hari.” jhe Signora Amadeo, asshe stood there, was the per- sonification of striking womanly beauty. She was tall for one of her sex, her figure superbly rounded, her eyes large, black aud lustrous, and her mauner exquisitely graceful. The physician paused for a moment to note her majestic loveliness as she stood beside the sick man’s pil- jow. She might be twenty-eight or nine years of age, not more, and was, he thought to himself, as perfect a style of female beauty as he hhad ever seen. ‘ The wife appeared lost for a few moments in a waking dream, from which slie was aroused by her husband’s voice: “Did he not leave some cooling drops?’ asked the rest- less invalid, $68.77 “Give them to me, my dear, for I feel consumed by in- ward fever.” “| will in one moment,’ she replied. She retired from the sick room, but soon returned with a vial of colorless liquid, which she dropped in a wine- glass of water, and holding it to his lips bade him drink, He swallowed the potion and sank back quite Overcome, even by so slight an exertion. She watched him for a few moments intenily. He fell asleep then, but murmured in his slumbers, talking unconsciously of his wife, His “tender and kind wife!” A few moments later he gpened his eyes, and said: ‘More air—I choke.’? “J will open the window.” “These drops burn me like fire; can they be really cool- ing medicine?” “The doctor said so.’? “An, well, he knows, of course,” sighed the sick man, with parched lips. ; utting aside her brood over her “Not imperative, “T will leave ‘| little, mm { She » | loyall } It beat.no m } Yenlional ceremonies lp ca pains gr “My dear,”? he said, after a moment more, ‘good night. I think I am going to sleep.”? “Good-night,” she said, “Will you kiss me??? She beut over his pillow, quietly, and touched his fore- head with her lips. “Thank you, my dear, good-night!”? r he ier pleasure, | THE NEW YORK WEEKLY. pe entation Cont on ata moe But thére was no solution of the enigma. The morning wore on, bringing Eric and Crystal—Eric handsome and debonaire as ever, Crystal clinging to his arm, pale, silent, shadowy.’ And Lady Dynely alone was their companion in the day’s pleasuring at Saint Cloud. ‘IT wish you were coming, France,” Crystal said, ina wistful whisper. Somehow, in France’s strength and sunny brightness, even this little wilted lily seemed to revive. s Wot.to-da , darling,” France answered, kissing er, “It will not do to leave grandmamma quite alone, / Besides, Saint Cloud is an old story to me, and rathera tiresome one,. We will all meet at din- ner and 06 the Opera I together.” . “Has C ete SOC prevail in his langbid Way, saumter was ty e The Count Amadeo was deadl .. It was the last flicker of the lamp of life.'y Courteous and tender to the very last, the husband had parted with the companion of his bosom, as he had always done, gently and uncomplaining. “Good-night!? j en ge The history of Lucrezia Borgia is no myth in oar story, and the subtle poisons used in hem@ay are by ho means 0 in onr own-times. 7, | ra » The Si had. poisoned the confiding old count, mOvby one fatal doge,but by piecemeal, little by sapping his life away and leaving no trace, ie Vher ear to his hedrt, which had ever beat so forgiving her misdeeds and ministering to) dlistened, Sue looked up pale but fir Pi a * wy . “Fre@iat last!’ she said. | i ee | Afewmore honrs of hypocrisy on her part, afew con lace, the slienttomb, % xf NS sg ‘ ~The widow of Count Amadeo had punctiliously complied with all that propriety demanded of her, and no one had areproach to utter, sofar as her name was concerned, | She was even envied by the fashionable Neapolitan world, though they might not give utterance to such thoughts, Was she not young, beautiful, and very rich. On her part she cared very littie what the gossips said of her, she was as much consumed with an inward passion, as the count had been by that more tangible, but scarcely less fatal poison. What a sacrifice she had made to the god of her mad idolatry! She asked herseif what she should do next?