fCEW OKUCAJMS BÜLLKTlft
RV ORLEANS, FE Bit OAKY 27, IK 6
o [ Written for the Bulletin.]
BT A LBX DALSHKIMM (XELA).
I hate the brow that wears a frown,
Because the venal owner knows
Of all the world there's bnt one clown
Who at her simple bidding throws
Himself in every foolish shape,
Whene'er her beauty's power would shape
The form in which she'd see her clown.
No woman ever should forget
That when she mocks the man that proves
How very like a gem she's aet
Within his soul ; then all the loves
Fade all away from out Ms life
And naught but awful bitter strife
ShsU struggle with her vain regret.
And through the years that some and go,
Though he forgets not what is past—
Yet not for her will ever glow
Again the glory that ones cast
A hallowed beauty o'er her brow
When what he was, he is not now
To her, who could his life o'erthrow.
And though a ruin maybe wrought
To him that's master of the crowd ;
Yet she he loves, should know how fraught
Of slavery, is the strong and proud
Bubjeotion that he given to her,
When site, of all the world could stir
Almost the drapery of his shroud.
But in the witchery of her power,
The graces of a queen should neve
Her to reepeot a trembling flower
ThatUvoe alone on wings of love;
And not a petal should be crushed
And every evil breath be hushed
nd every evil breath be bashed I
When trembles thus that suppliant .flower,
O A T 4 \T A AT 14 TU U IfAXTlT
ÔA1 AjN Ail U J 11 Ii MU il A.,
A CARNIVAL ADVENTURE IN VENICE.
. , I , • l t l a . .
of travel which I had experienced since
departure from Amenoa, six months prior.
It wee Carnival week in Venice.
I had been in that oity one month, haying
"1 found a refreshing rest after the exer
[am the» ion of a well to do Boston mer
and consequently my protracted so
a Vanina wau nwn/ln ntiva a F nanxbl knt
Venice was productive of naught bnt
to myaelt Before proceeding I
te that one of my leading character
1 stats that one or my leading
is—daring, even at times, perhaps, to
seas; and I am ever ready for an ad
e, while the more dangerous it is the
; is acceptable.
I Carnival week in Venioe.
noon, upon the second day, stand
Piazza San Maroo, my attention
ïx£L*5 e P 5T V? m " kB
habited m Satan the other as .
» onatltln a Ppfoaohlog me with the
t***. a ' . ____..
l W «îi thev d^ftîT tbnnlrht*r
LmLJ A 1
f«Kdtem«nL llUUler tbom mdioa *
, . ,_____... .
exclaimed to°hta oompaffion* 6
,, r . t » t•
^^ k ®t Ji 1 "" .v .
» th» fkîl!l-^ ey T m0Ted
»sînm I ü^ e fn St«»™?!« J ? T6r '
ln ra " or • sohdued tone,
, _ „ ___... ,1
• \ ^ n .. tbe ?,?
thi/ » 11 ma * 1 me ' d# "
i n .* » »V. a vi
Lfta5° l ïïfi S Ub u° pk0a SÜ Veaio ?
puM stiu dwelt npon them, and, ■
I two things. First, their hav
mistaken me for soma one !
a, as both their manner of ap
... ... ^
^ , j * exolamation
hi had ffi n en0 r «motion
ï , , I
t * >ta meaa [ simply one
,ua ""Bosfjobs in whioh
disoovered a mjltoéy^^rei '
yatery," like th -
read in romanoe t •
■ J? 6 * a '? ber
tbi . D K < ', and
.***r,,.f n a ? n J ,| rantnf *, to ® nd
* "»d before
I resolved to beeome a party to
meeting, and, whatever the
that way, sinoe none other
* —. '-----
• myste^^ real
those of whioh I
, gain soma solation to ths
at anto what ud this spirit of
I landing me.
from the clook-tower of San
' I appointed hour of midnight,
ha comer of a niehe on the
piano. I wore, more as k
I for any other purpose, for it was
> olonk whioh completely en
and my features were hid
: oIom about me, and. rest
the pedestal of a statue,
a the niehe, waited, I oan not
' the issue of events.
approached. It neared,
ï habit off the Monk. He
his eyes around as if in
they fell npon the spot
as I had
i thought, oonoealed.
brow hs seemed to strain
me, and a moment after
Is that yon f "
end, and there was bat
ï making a hasty retreat, and
> of the mystery. I chose
I It was Pistra
It—for so shall I call this
end striking me
hood with a (fortu
ite earned, began to
ring myself immediately
) character of Pietro, and,
) obliged to bear the abase
~ determined to do him
iwered simply that I was
! until I had first heard
ï are right !" exol&imed
.the signal completely,
ï bewildered me so. Here
»I beodr end so saying
ï of gold ooin.
i hers token the money,
ï plaoe, to do him no
1 to take it I did.
continued the Monk,
* yon are to do ? It
bnsiness; bn I then
thousand pieoes of j
Dfidenoe that I knew ex
- though of course I
lüHot the sHghteot Idsn of ft— «ad, that se
for the danger, I cared nothing for that, while
the reward, though acceptable, was not of
I such importance to me sa the honhr of being
employed by such " nobil segniors."
I "Nay ! Pietro, we have no time to listen to
your flatteries, for here oomas Signor-."lings.
The name esoaped my ear, for the Monk, as
he spoke, glided off to meet a figure, shroud-1
1 ed in a long cloak, who now approached from
the opposite side of the church.
By this time, I must confess, 1 began to
have some fairs for my personal safety, and
instinctively I felt for my revolver, when 11
I discovered that I had forgotten it—a piecs of I
I absentmindedness which had never happened |
to me before. Of
heighten my fears. TJ>ey
should my imposture
ance _____ _
tiuOnndCuul as a morning meal for the I
fishes. There was one thing, however, which
seemed in my favor. I had twice been mis -1
taken for Pietro—whoever that personage I
was -for after the conversation I had just had I
with the Monk I was assured that he did not
suspect my identity, and further, that it was I
this same Pietro for whom he had mistaken I
me in the morning. I
course, this served to
l>ey were at odds, and I
e be detected, a thing |
Now, had I wished to escape it was too late, I
for the Monk and his companion, having con-1
versed apart for a fewseconde, were approach
ing me. I determined to remain therefore, I
The two stood before me. The new-oomer I
eyed me closely from head to foot, and thon I
spoke : ...
"Are yon aware that you may lose your life
in this—affair ?
I was fully aware of that fact. It was be
oomingmore and more fully impressed upon
my mind every moment I was telling no un
truth then, when I replied in the affirmative.
"Here then is yonr money-one thousand
pieoes of silver—the amount agreed upon, I
and paid, aocorning to your demand, m ad
vanoe. Now follow ns." I
dlI îüL] ! ! ar üv" d I
started towards the Grand Canal, walking
I arm-in-arm with the Monk.
I followed —then I might have fled.
I lier sent his light craft swiftly over the ink)
wave to the stroke of a* muffled oar, in tht
I direction of—no matter where. Snffice it to
sa 7 'hat we did not pause until we had
reached the side entrance to a certain one of
the many palace-like mansions which, even in
At the water's edge was a small gondola.
I into which we entered, and then the gondo
this day, adorn the "mermaid city."
Here, leaping from the gondola, Satan, for
as suoh was the Monk's companion habited,
and by that name shall he be known, plac-d I
his Ups close to the door and imitated the low I
whistle of a canary bird. A pause, au d he I
was answered from within by a like sound. I
Then turning to me he bade me leave the I
gondola and ascend the steps where he stood. I
Agaiu he placed his lips to the door, and I
1 again whistled. This time he was answered I
from w i tb i n W (th t be wor j 8 : ..^U readv for
I Heaven and Hefl." J I
1 "-F^r Satanand the Monk!" rejoined Satan; I
and after a P aU9a th . edoor ?""»«a8ly opened
a man, masked, who bowed very low to
and i ighU y to ' me .
I ..p ietr0f tallow this gni
gnide. Ask him no
question, bnt do thy duty, and quickly."
"Yes, signor," Ï replied.
Tne masker led the way and I followed,
now, more than efer, fearful of being dis
covered, and yet not daring to ask my guide
for inatrnotions, as to what my dnty was, lest
my ignoranof might betray me.
Through a long ball—up a wide stair
then np a n5thér ftigh" then along a corridor
_ into a F nother long hall, and then to the end
of iti i foUowea m / 8i i e nt gnide.
Here btfatopped before a door whioh, after
I cautiously at it for a moment, he
1 h*g»n to slowly open. Presently when ajar
enough to admit of one's entering, yet not
I wide open, he entered the room.
After a short absence he returned, and,
' he door 7 idao P e . n - "otioned to me
to follow him in. I obeyed, and—paused at
I the scene which met my View.
Tlie room waa a lar 8® one . "»cl exquisitely
famished as a sleeping apartment Nothing
1 0 f (h e kind that I had ever seen seemed to
equal its riohness and taste. The very walls
I themselves, hang as they were with works
J from the hands of masters—not of one age,
but all—were beyond my feeble imagining; ,
tion*of works of art, mv eyes did not discover
■ - ~ - 1
that which held them most entranoed when
that which held them most entranoed when
my attention bad been oalled to it by the
masker at my side.
It was the conch, npon which lay the fair
woman it had ever been my lot to behold,
8udden;y B 8ense of "my dnty" fla-hed
I upon me, and my suspicion was confirmed
m y companion remarking in sotto voce,
not prooeed quickly the effeot
' P °' ioa wh '° b had been Beoretl7 gi ™ Q
• . .
not be answerable for my safety.
What oould I do? ,
If I did what my feelings most prompted—
r e( age d to abdact the girl, for sach was " my
pouon wmoQ naa oeen booreuy given 10 ner i
t Y»t evening, and which was only intended to
, ffeot her ? or a oertai n number of hours,
I might wear off, and in that event he would I
--------------- „ . -------
duty," and alarmed the honse the issue would I
be almost certain death for me, for there stood |
the moskmrho had led me hither, his dagger I
drawn anTalready measuring his distanoe, as |
dy began to fear I might prove
, should I escape him, what
if he had already
false. Besides, buvu.u * "**"> »*»»«. i
certainty had I that I would not be killed by
the other inmates of the house, who finding
me, a stranger, in a place where I surely had
no right to be, would naturally suspect me of
f_a__a!______ J ».J Ta.i:______j__I
Again, bow did I know bnt that this was
not all prearranged— à second Romeo and
Jnliet affair? And, if it was, would I not be
doing a terrible thing, in the eyes of Love, to
be the means of spoiling it all ? No ! I had
gone too far forward to retraot without any
eonsiderable danger, and ao I resolved to do
simply what waa expected of me in the charac
ter of Pietro, and, in the cnaracter of Pietro,
I approrohed the couoh, bent over the
lovely oreatore, and raised her np gently in
The mask was ready at my elbsw, with a
large cloak, whioh he threw around her, and
then leaving the room, he motioned me to
Spite the impatienoe whioh my companion
exhibited to get me palely out of the honse, I
was as slow as possible in doing so; for I was
truly loath to have to deliver my fair harden
to any one, and most of all to those without,
who I knew were anxiously waiting for me to
At the door stood Satan, who seeing me.
hurriedly exclaimed : "Quick, Pietro! Iato
the gondola, sately. So."
Then turning to the mask who still stood in
the doorway: "Here, felioar ! this pane
contains your seward. Take it." Tne mask
took it, bowed his thanks and closed the
Stten sprang into tbs gondo'a.
" Away now ! to the Piombii," be cried;
and again the light craft shot swittlv over
the waters. . .
"The Piombii !"
What reader does not know of them ? The
prison of which Byron spoke, in his memora
ble lines. *
I stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs,
A palace and a prison on each hand."
These prison*, of whioh Silvio Pellico g'ves
such a graphio description in the account of
ud «aoap« from thorn,
I on situated under the palooo roof, and oppo-1
se I hi«
I are siiaated under the nulnoe________
of laite to the trial chamber, with which they
I connect by m«ens of the " Bridge of Sighs"—
I a narrow and closed passage-way, or alley, I
to I over the canal which separates the two build-1
as I T had often, even in the short time I had
then been in Venice, visited these prisons, I
I now no longer in use, and had made myself I
I familiar with the history of many pbo had I
to I been confined in them. It was a place asso
and I ciated in my mind with all that was fearful
11 and inhuman in the history of Venice, and I
of I when I heard that command : " Away, to the]
| Piombii," my heart san^ within me. |
I ing their commands. Alas ! I could only con-1
tinue to act the £art of Pietro, and hold my
I I did not then dream that I should ever I
I cease to regret having been obliged to do so.
After what seemed to me a very short time
I from our leaving the plaoe, the gondolier I
I moved his craft, and springing ashore, an
I nounced that the Piombii had been reached,
frtllft tVO/1 KllllllfWV ma Kan * tkn «là 11 I
to What was next to follow; what was to be I
I the end of this adventure ? I
| I dared not hope now to prevent the carry-1
I Satan followed, bidding me bear the still
senseless girl—for sleeping a natural sleep I
knew ehe was not—after him. The Monk
I followed after me, to act perhaps as a rear* I
I The gondolier seemed to know his "duty,"
I for as soon as all had landed he whispered to I
Sata 5* Y 0 * 1 overheard him.
" By four, signor ?"
By four—upon the stroke. And mark, if
my man here ''-and Satan pointed to me
" should bring her—alone—yon understand?
see them safely back."
The boatman bowed, entered his craft, and
in a moment more waa out of sight
I "Pietro, said Satan, then, turning to me,
" one thing more before we proceed. Some
I accident may happen to me, bnt nothing
I ? 08t be ™ faer ' Nomember—-the gondolier
knows the palace remember, if need be, see
her safe y home; you heard the signal, the as
same will admit you."
Pietro swore that he would do all desired. I ?
That we were in the rear of the dneal palace I >
I knew, for I recognized the plaoe. A min- 1
ute's walk and Satan stopped before a small I
| door > wh ich was so well concealed by the)
ar ' ,fl ? e of 'he mason, that it might have passed
I 0 ®'y ^awhimsmalembelishmentto theother-1
I !* ,8e P,. " walls. This he unlocked, with a
"V*"™ " e drew * rom "f bosom, and open
I i"® î* vr u 6 en ,î er ' * obeyed, followed I an
1 by the Monk. He then entered, closed the I
I ? oor a " er .him and looked it, leaving the key, I
I however, in the lock. Then producing a wax I
I ' a P. er ho lighted it and showed us a narrow I
I J- er ^ 8 ' e ^P* This he bade me ascend, I self
I af , 7 ln l' « the same time charging me, on
I "f®> *° be careful and stumble not The 11
I *?*• M before, followed in iny rear. I
I P-* 1 ®P we went, a thousand steps, if my I
I aching bones might have been credited as
I .j 8 * ''P 11 * we reac *»ed a small landing, and
I before another door. Satan un ocked
thl8 ' M he had dono the first> and catering
I we stood in one of the cells of the Piombii.
I T ^ e room u was low and small-so small that
„ h Ä ,b f h . J a ™® d JI fea
to light it. It contained no furniture but a I
wooden etool, and, on the other side, what I
seemed to be a low conch over which was sent
thrown a black cloth.
Satan sitting the taper in a niche within the I slow
ill, took off his cloak, andepreading it upon
the floor bade me place my harden upon it.
I did, and for some moments both he and the
Monk stood gazing upon her in silence. At
gazing upon silence. At
leDgth the Monkspoke, addressing Satan:
" Is there no other way ?"
"None. I have tried all others—all others
. , . .
But think of the madness of yonr scheme; I
lta uncertainty. .... . „
.. v blDa °* no '^ ln 8 hnt testend. 1
" Yet panse awhile. Keason—
Reason ? I will not reason ! There is no |
reason for this; there is no reason for anything
I r do * 11 I *"*»»»» that my pl 'B is foolish; that it I
H tail of danger to myself—to yon. Bnt as j
you, my friend, have risked yonr life in this I
lor friendship s sake alone, think yon that I
fnr mvAVilInnt oAntnpaaa mnnlt_ na» O'* I
for love willnotventureas much—nay, more ?'
" Bnt, suppose we—fail ?"
" Then I coarge yon, by yonr friendship, to
see her safely home. She will never divulge
aught sbe shall witness here; trust me for
that" Then turning to me Satan con tinned:
And for thee, Pietro, take what is left of me
, "a ror tnee, rietro, taze wnat is lert ol me
Thrice the sum already given thee will then be
I most hearily wished he had given me
I leave to have carried him to the "fishes" at
once, and so have ended the matter, for I had
no heart in his doiDgs— whatever they were—
and wished myself well out of the business
ner i _ ' , 7 ' 7 „ —
to "W 1 t0 "»« situation ud my heart to
shnnJt from what waa 7 et to follow ' Whlt?
I 7 looked toward the door as the thought of
esoape entered my mind. It stood open, and
seemed to 10 vite an attempt; but the remem-1
brance of tne steep stair would alone have
banished that hope could I have consented to
I *® ive "7 tate Durden alone in the power of
| these two. ... . _
I I cast my eyes towards her, and marked,
as | already,_ signs of her reviving.^ Already a
blush began to show itaelf upon her
hitherto blanched cheeks, and her breathing,
i ----r ------------- —" "7 ------.- 6 .
by befoie hardly perceptible, now became die
tinet and measured.
Presently she moved, and as she did so,
of Satan turned to me and bade me remove the
onvamur frnm nff that niaon nf fnvnitn ra r\f I
rack, old and rusty from long disuse, bnt
which was now to be pat to what ose ?
Reader, yon can no more snrmise than 11
could at that moment.
"Pietro," aaked Satan, "Is the thing I
... , , ,
I had never before seen a rack, save re mu
seams, and was as ignorant of the question
asked as an American might proudly be. I |
answered, however in my character of Pietro.
that it was, and Satan, after takmg one long
look at the girl, advanced towards me. He
now stood beside the instrument of torture.
Again he bent his eye npon the girl, who was
now almost sensible, and then spoke to the |
"Remember," said he, "do not fail in
yonr duty, and be sure I shall not fail m
mine. See ! One moment more and she will
discover where ehe is—and, with whom !
Come, Pietro, oome! Do your du'y
Alas ! the dreaded moment had arrived.
What was my duty? Fool I had been, indeed,
to engege ia this adventure ! I felt that my
time had come, and quickly determined to
die as hard as possible. I had already nerved
myself preparatory to making an omlinght
npon Satan, when I was startled ont of my
Satan deliberately laid himself ont npon the
Fortune, to whose ready help, like Na
poleon, I had always trusted in my daring,
had not failed me now. I comprehended on
that instant, at least a part, if not all, of my
dnty, and I did not wait to be a second time
reminded of v, bnt immediately secured
Satan's limbs in the fastening intended for
them, and placed myself at the crank of the
mxebine and re sained silent.
What was to follow ?
The "sleeper" by this time had become so
far sensible as to raise her.,elf upon her .rm
and look abont At this the Monk dropped
suddenly upon his knee beside her, and, rais
ing his mask, yet not so as to dDolose tim
self to me, said something which I failed-to
thorn, I hear. She started,
oppo-1 fear and surprise, an
a ary of mingled
______ r-—* , ««. n —...... g _____r
they I around for a second, «ank unto the floor again!
I covering her fooe with her arm. ^
alley, I A pause, and the Monk «poke.
build-1 "Come," said be, " time flies, and webave
none to waste. You must rise." With this
had he motioned me towards him, intending as it
I seemed, with my aid, to foroe her up* but
I catching his meaning, she started up unaided
had I "No!"oried she, "off! you shall not
asso- touch me ! O, Heaven, had you no other
curse but this ? Well, then—thy will be
and I done."
the] " Then you consent_you will marry him ? *•
| eagerly exclaimed the Monk,
con-1 lay Satan,'perfectly motionless" and** silent
my She uttered a scream as her eye c jnfirmed the
truth of the Monk's words, and would have
I fallen had he not supported her.
so. "Yes, there he lies," continued he. " Shall
I bid the doomsman release his limbs or bid
I him tighten the screw ? Speak 1 "
an- She did not speak. Pale as death or the
white robe in wbioh she was enveloned and
11 I mktak - — IL — A _ V _ _ « .. . * . * _
be I " Him ? Who ? '' asked she starting.
I "He who loves yen, worships you.
carry-1 who would suffer death to gain yon: wh
which, in that gloomy and dimly lighted
I chamber formed a disagreeable contrast with
the black gown and co»l other suDDorter
I she stood more like a statue n»»*» a living
j being. Again the Monk spoke.
"Why do you pause? Think you that I
to I am not in earnest ? Then you shall be con
vinced otherwise. Pietro, do your duty "
Again -" do your duty ; " but this time I
if was aware of what my duty consisted ; and,
honestly, I was not sorry at being allowed thé
opportunity of giving Satan a stretch for I
thought he deserved it richly-ftdly as ' much
as the name belonging to his disguise I did
not hesitate, thereioie, at this command but
turned the crank. The engine groaned'and
the rusty teeth of its gearing chattered
The noise seemed to rouse the girl. She
raised her eyes and looked steadfastly at me.
as if to have questioned my face for sympa
questioned my race for sympa
thy, bnt my mask hiding all such expression,
I ? be turned her gaze upon Satan. He too, be
I > n g still masked, sbe tailed to disoover any
1 thing there, and again her head dropped upon
I her breast in silence.
"Pietro," spoke the Monk, after a short
pause; "Pietro, agaiu ; until I bid you hold. "
I obeyed as willingly as before, and, ere the
a Monk stopped me, had given Satan a pretty
clear idea of what he had to expect from such
I an instrument in suoh hands as mine. As I
I ceased he gave a slight groaD, hardly much
I more than a deep-drawn sigb, yet loud
I enough to reach the ears of the girL Sbe
I starte 1 as if about to speak, but checked her
I self and remained silent
"Again?" cried the Monk, and I thought
11 discovered a slight tremor in his voice.
I I turned the crank. S itan drew a deep
I breath and held it, but was silent. I turned
again; but neither Satan nor the girl uttered
fea . tnrea " ho ". e . d 'he agony of the moment
" Woman ! " cried the Monk, "do you con
No sound escaped her; bnt the paleness of
her cheeks now extended to her lips, and her
a I Again the Monk spoke:"
what I " Woman, again I ask you. Do you con
was sent ?"
Still was she silent; and now I noticed the
the I slow relaxation of the mnscles which precedes
fainting from nervous exhaustion. Her lips
trembled and her breathing was short and
quick. I saw that it would be but a few mo
ments, and sbe must c msent Yes; for what
else could she do ? She was completely iu
the power of these two, who, gentlemen
though they might be by birth, were devils
. at heart, and completely cut of my power, as
I far as rescuing her tient. I would that mo
ment have given all I possessed in the world
1 1 0 have had it in my power to save her. But
no | Again the Monk spoke, and ttÿs time his
_.. .U-» ^ y et 0 f
ft duty, and
tone was that of determination, r ,d yet of
it I shrinking; as of one eqnal unto hft
as j yet dreading to perform it.
I "Yet once again, and only once, woman,
I do I ask yon. Will yon consent?"
O'* I 0
There was no answer, but her he*d dropped
lower upon her breast, and her form gradually
sank under its own weight
" Speak !" cried the Monk, almost frant c
She was silent
"Then, Pietro, do to death !
I started to obey, feeling, I am sorry to con
fess, bnt little sympathy for the victim.
Once—twice round went the crank, when a
cry escaped the lips of Satan wbioh sent a
shudder through me and bronght an exclama
had ' i0 ° ff ° m l h ® t bUt lb ® gi ! 1 ', 1 by 1 ' hi8
having sunk unto her knees, was still silent
A2 * ln * turned, and again Satan uttered a
Swear it !" qnickly cried the Monk.
"I swear," was her whisper, as she fell
. back senseless npon the floor,
and .. Q aick> p ietro i undo the cnrsed en „ inef
ftn ^ may a n Heaven forsake me if ever I look
0 n such a thing again.
to As I obeyed the bell in the clock tower
of struck the hour of four. Satan moved not
_ I spoke not; he too had fainted from exhaus
a | The Monk was kneeliDg over the girl, fan
her ning her wit i 1 the gi ee ve of bis gown
Hastily I determined to sever my
6 . i uasuiy l aeierminea to sever my connec
ti on w j ttl t ne affair at once, and now was my
opportunity. Satan was still confined upon
the racki by the fining which I had not
loosened, and was, besides, senseless, while
r\f I .. . - ___' . . _ 9 w
instructions both to the gondolier and my
self, together with the hour jast struck, flashed
up betöre me, and at once decided my action.
The stool, of which I have spoken, was within
my reaoh. I grasped it. The blow was well
, aimed, and the Monk fell back stnnned.
QllioklyI 8eize d the girl in my arms and
wra ppi n g my eloak dose about her, descended
I | tbe 8ta j r M fl ee tly as possible. I reached the
gtlltmd flx>r in opened the outer doofi
and 8 t ood once more in the free air.
Ia a moment I was at the water's edge; the
gondolier wa8 trne t0 his trust.
.. Qaick ,» cried It enttring the craft> baok
| to lhe palftCe M >oa werd di ® eoted . h iste
And still once again the light crafc shot over
the waters to the stroke of a mnffisd oar.
The palace was reached.
I bade the gondolier moor at the main en
trance. I lande 1 with my burden still sense
less in my arms, and dismissed the boatman.
Five minutes later the palace was all astir.
A few minmes later still, and Signor -
the master, made his appearance. Into his
arms I transferred my burden, assuring him
in bnt few words of bnt this one fact, that I
bad rescued her (whoever she might be,) from
Before he conld recover from the stupor into
which the commingled emotions of l6ar, sur
prise and bewilderment had thrown him, I
was oat of bis reach of hearing ; tor some
thing, perhaps shame, or a stricken c m
sciecce, made me seek to hide my identity,
nor expose myself to thaoks, which I felt I
When I reached my hotel I made a dis
covery. T had forgotten my cloak, in whioh
my lair burden bad been wrapped. It was
no great loss, however.
The next morning, by snnrise, I bad left
Venice iar behind me on the road to Rome.
Reader, yon are not sati-fied—I feel it—
jadgirg joa by myself; as, three weeks after
Um occurrence of the events narrated above,
I was very much dissatisfied.
I wished—and I do not doubt but that you
at this moment have the same desire—to
know what bad befallen the persons with
whom I bad become acquainted in >o singu
lar a manner, and, above all—need I confess
it?—I wished to learn the fate of my "fair
It is almost unnecessary to sta'e that my
curiosity carried me back to Venice. I ar
rived there in the evening.
The next morning, at the breakfast table, I
noticed that many of the Italians present
seemed very much excited over their papers,
occasionally giving vtnt to exclamations, and
some instances even hurriedly leaving the
At length I inquired of my waiter the canse
of the oommotion.
Has signor not heard ? Has signor not
read the papers ? Signor has no idea of it !"
This was all that my inquiry elicited from
him, except that he presently captured a
paper which he handed to me, calling my at
tention to a particular column.
I took it and read the noted ar iole. As
it went far towards siti.-fying my curiosity,
both in regard to the cause of the txo.tement
and also as to the fate of the parties men
tioned in the above narrative. I hall append
a free translation, (it is as difficult to make a
literal translation of reporter's Dalian into
English as 1 suppose it is for an Indian to un
dertake the same with reporter's Eoglish,)
hoping, my kind reader, that it may be of the
same use to yon:
"The mysterious murder of the notorious I
Bravado Pietro, whose body was found in the I
Grand Canal, wi'h several stitleto wounds on
it, and the subsequent myster.ons death ofl
Count di--, and the disappearance of Big- I
nor Alberto Nosta, has at i ngth been all I
o'eared up by the confession of the last named |
person, who has just been arrested in-Genoa
on the charge of mnrd> r, brought against him I
by the Coant di — 's relatives. The affair I
is a singular one, and as it is not without in-1
terest, we shall present it to our readers in I
Count di -, it seems, was enamoured of I
a yonng girl, whose name for obvions reasons
is withheld, who repelled bis advances, till at
length, all other means having failed, the I
count determined to enforce his suit in an en- 1
tirely novel manner, at least so far as we are I
aware. With Nosta, his friend and adviser, I
and Pietro, he managed to abdnet Signora
-, on the night of the second day of the
carnival, '.torn her chamber, having first I
bribed one of the inmates of the palace to I
drug her and so prevent her resisting. Then
they bore her to one of the chambers of the I
Piombii, which was reached by a secret stair
from without, and by meins of forged keys!
which the Count di--had in some manner I
obtained. Here the count, who was masked I
and disguised, strange to say, as Satan,allowed
bimselt to be bound to a rack by Pietro, while
Nosta, also masked, and in the disguise of a
Monk, took charge of the lady.
plan was to iaave, or rather to foroe
her to decide between accepting Count di
as her husband, or then and there witness his
death upon the rack. The poor girl was at
length wrought upon as they dtsired, and
swearing to marry the Count, fainted.
this j-lecture, strange to say, Pietro, who had
beeu well paid in advance tor his share in the
proceeding, seemed to relent. The Coun.
bikini H° k ' an< *. M 0Sta Wa8
bending over the lady. He seized the oppor-1
tunity, stunned Nosta by a blow, and, to be
brief, carried the lady safely to her home, aDd
disappeared before be could be ques ioned.
For this show of humanity he should, at
leas', have met wi'.h a better end. Three
days after this occurrence, however, he was
stabbed and his body thrown into the canal,
by Nosta, as it had been expressly understood
between them that it should be, if he re
mained in Venice twenty-four hours after the
abduction. This Nosta confesses."
Alas ! poor Pietro. I shall never wholly
forgive myself for thy death.
"The Connt di--was so mach braised
and broken u t on the rack that upon tae
same night upon whioh Pietro was murdered f
he died, and that same night Nosta fled, and
by bis flight excited tho suspicions of the
count's relatives, who believed him to have
been murdered Dy Nosta. This suspicion is
proven false by Nos fa's confession, whioh,
however, convicts him in the other instance.
We shall give fall particulars of the trial when
it takes place, and nniil then shall leave the
subjeot, simply recording a rumor which has
just reached us. It is that bignora--is
aDout to enter the Convent of San Zaccaria."
I laid aside the paper. As I did so a gee-1
fifty and rather pre-1
tleman, somewhat over nity ana ratner pre
possessing in appearance, who, it seemed had
been watching me from a near table for some
moments, now rose, and approaching, ad
dressed me by name.
I started. Ha who addressed me was a
total stranger, so far as I knew. He noticed
. _ ■
it ?lfÀ 1I mnra'>w 1 | ulfi i° D - 7 ?®. Ived '° increase I
it the more by politely inviting me to follow I
Iudeed, Venioe was a city of adventure, at
least for me.
1 Yon have lost something," he said, " it is
in my possession. Allow me to invite you to
my honse and I shall restore to yon what is
I had lost nothing; he Was mistaken.
"Not at all, Signor. It bears yonr name-1
Üi'iSfS u " "s* °*
the second day of the carnival. '
• * * * * •
Two things moré remain to be said.
1. Nosta was punished by the law, after his
2. The rumor in regard to the lady's enter
ing a content never had the slightest founda
tion, and sbe bids me say, never shall have so
long as her husband—myself—lives.
Shoemakiog is of great antiquity. The in
Mi .»I___' _ L . 3 - _ . > 1 . .
An 01d*Fashioned Bnsiness.
strnment for cleaning hides, the shoemaker's
bnsde added to the yarn and his knife, were,
as early as the twelih century. He was ac
cr.stomed to hawk his goods, and it is coniec
.«„d «... ... .V~t. .rld«
nexing the soies. The R mans, in classical
times, wore cork soles in their shoes, to secure
the feet from water, especially in winter, and
as high heels were not introduced, the Roman
ladies who wished to appear taller put plenty
of cork under them. The streets of Rome,
in the time of Domitian, were blocked np by
cobblers stall, which he therefore caused to
be removed. In the middle ages shoes were
-----------—e»-— mswa wrio I
cleaned by washing with a sponge, and oil
Haokino d tTT WCre tb ® fcUb8 ' itntea for
blacking. Buckles were worn in shoes in the I
fourteenth century. In an Irish abbey a
human skeleton was found with marks of
backles on the shoes. In England they be
oame fashionable many years before the reign
of Q teen Miry; the laboring people wore them
of copper, other persons bad them of silver
or copper gilt; not long after, shoe-roses
came in. Buckles revived before the revolu
tion in 1789, and finally became extinct before
the close of the eighteenth century.
A country editor once received the follow
ing: " Dear 8ir—I have looked carefully and
patiently over yonr paper for six months for
the death of some individual I was acquainted
with, but as yet not a single soul I care any
thing about bas dropped off. Yon will please
to have my name erased.— Providence Jour
He was in a confidential mood when he went
home the other night on the ferryboat and
said to the gentlemen sitting by him: " I'm
happish man in New York. I donowe man
shent. I'm gonebome, an' if tholooiau's set
tin' np I'il licker, an' if she is gone to bed I'll
lioker any way. I'm bennthave shorne fan."
N. F. Evening MaiL
you rpn NEW ORLEANS INSURANCE COW
I * ____
Corner of Canal and Camp streets.
SIXTEENTH ANNUAL STATEMENT.
my I NEW ORIGANS, Jan. 15, 1876.
ar- I 1,1 conformity with the requirements of their
I charter, the NEW ORLEANS INSURANCE COM
I uany publish the following statement of their
I affairs for the yearending December 31. 1875:
I Rire prém unis ................. ft 55,3*28 93
and Marino......................... 62.839 56
the River............. 75 231 32
I Forunt nuina'ed. risks Decem
ber 31, 1875.................
I Return premiums..............
Net earn»<1 premiums.....................$420,859 45
Interest, salvages, etc.................... 30,631 13
I Reinsurances................... $26,345 83
Fiie losses..........$116.972 73
Maiinc.............. 16,824 69
I River................ 30,373 21
I Commissions to
- $47,716 36
I General expenses of
I agencies......... 7,739 12
General expenses of
ofl home otfice ...... 27^0000
I Contingent expenses
I Board of Under
| writers, etc...... 12,07724
I state and clt J taxes
in-1 ^ e ' profits...... 120,312 78
I Dividend pa d in Au
I 6 U8 '.............$ 25,000 00
Dividend declared... 25000 00
-- 7 -$50 000 00
I Reserved f^r unsettled claims.. 15 , 00000 —65,000 00
1 , Xrr 312 ~u
I _ *
I company have the following • assets, at their
market value :
Real estate...............................$ 104.911 as
I Pledge and mortgage notes...............238,501 91
I Stocks and bonds......................... 93,574 50
Bill* receivable........................... 22,387 6S
I Premiums in coarse of collection.......... 73,487 09
Agency premiums in course of transmis
sion................................... 10 216 45
I Due by insurance companies.............. 4,137 61
I Suspense acco.nt ..... 3 224 32
sundry debtors................... 7213 ™
United States securities; 5.20 bonds.....58922 61
I D^idééd déëtaréd
DiTM end uncollected
I "îvmend uncollected........
I Cash................................ft.___ 36,250 2«
Reserved for unterminated risks..........$137,568 14
.......... 25,000 00 »
.......... 10 086 25
Reserved fur unsettled claims............. 15.060 00
Wa8 I The foT ^oing is a true and correct transcript from
$ 1 ," v n.? ▼
be the b °° k8 ol the Äew 0nean * Iu8urance Com ' ,aliy '
J. TUYES, Preside
J. W. HINCKS, Secretary.
Sworn to and subscribed before me on this 17th da y
of January, 1876.
Third Justice of the Peace,
Parish of Orleans, La.
At a meeting oi the Board of Directors, held on the
13th inst., it was resolved to pay the semi-annual
interest dividend of five per cent on the capital stock
t > the stockholders or their legal representatives, i
tae alte r the FIRST MONDAY of Feoruary next,
f T W "*
J. W. HINCKS, Secretary.
T\|" BECHANTS' MUTUAL INSURANCE COM
W. Van Bonthuysen,
A. M. Bickham,
W. A. Bell,
D. D. Rogers.
PANY OF NEW ORLEANS,
104 Canal Street.
TWENTY-FIRST ANNUAL STATEMENT.
In conformity with the requirements of their char
ter, the Company publish the following statement:
■ wa, tuo vvuiuauv yuuiisu LUC l
I Premiums received during tho year ending May 31,
I 1875, including Unearned Pt
On Fire Risks.........................
On Mamie Risks:.......................
On River Risks..........................
Premiums ef the previ
0,1 i,ire BW"----'-........... »257,344 41
».nvJÄ::::::::::::: SS S
Total Premiums ....................... $678,160 23
Less Unearned Premiums............. 121,468 00
Net Earned Premiums31st May, 1875.... $556,692 23
Taxes........................ 35,009 98.
Reinsurance and Return Pre
miums...................... 26,849 72
Expenses and fifteen per cent
rebate less interest......... 54,930 07
The Company have the following assets :
Rjal Estate............................. $282,8X4 43
nL t 7ir B » n, '. a " '.T " "i * ' Y .................. 216,110 0«
Baok, Kaiiroad and other Stock*........ 7;^ n ^0
niîî 68 ."??^» by *"<1 pledge.. 79 t-5
I "018 1 f"'—' ' ~
Primi um 'in" c.'u^ of co'ii wtiën ! !" ! 7 ' »hol 73
I State Bonds.................... ' ' w
^»urance Stock..............Ill"""" 19,124 4 «
xEüir 01 v ?, el ! e S rv Dook Company... 10,400 00
tegg »ÄÄ"" S
Cash*« hand 1 Ä »
The above statement is a lost, trne
transcript from the books of the Company
A w „ P- FOURCHY/Pi
NoTT ' Sect o?K,w r>v m™,.
STATE OF LOUISIANA, »
Pansb of Orleans, city of New Orleans. I
Sworn to and subscribed before me the 15th dav '
JAMES FAHEY, N P.
°f,the Board of Directors held on the
" * Jsytotba
rate of 1«
I y , ------— 00101*© ID© til© I5tfa dtV
if' l875 '.- „ JAMES FAHEY, N. P.
14th day ÄL roÄto«v°tota2
I Stockholders, on demand, interest at the —
-------------------- * - -
per cent per annum on their stock.
£• Maspero, Ed. Toby,
M. W. Smith,
J. J. Fernandes,
J. M. Allen,
D. Fat jo,
8. Z. Reif .
L. F. Generee,
D. A. Chaffraix,
1*16 '75 ly
qiHE NEW ORLEANS INSURANCE COMPANY
OF NEW ORLEANS, T.a„
Corner ef Camp and Canal Streets,
ESTABLISHED Ol 1804.
Income for year 1874..................... ^ w
Aaaeta December 31,1874.......... . ...... »758,560 6S
The Company lärm* Fire, Martas and Btvw
Rieka. Issues Martas Policies, payable ta r^,a^
easeoMeas. J. W. HINCKS, Secretary.
A D. 8CHR KIBEB, Vies President
J. TUYES, President,
W. B. Schmidt,
xml | txt