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EVERY NUMBER EMBELLISHED WITH A STEEL ENGRAVING.

THREE DOLLARS A YEAR.

VOLUME III.

OFFICE OF PUBLICATION, ANN-STREET, NEAR BROADWAY.
NEW YORK, SATURDAY, APRIL 13, 1844.

THE BRIGAND'S WIFE,

WITH A BEAUTIFUL STEEL ENGRAVING.

BETWEEN the shores of the gulf of Venice and the seaboard of Rome and Naples, spread the forests-or rather what remains of them-so celebrated by Horace, as the

forests of Daunia and Apulia. There prowled of yore the wolf, the tutelary guardian of ancient Rome; and there, to this day, the wild boar of Apulia is a favourite object of chase to the sportsman.

But other prowlers than those wild denizens of the woods are there to be found; outcasts of society, reckless and ruthless brigands.

Those who have travelled in that part of Italy, know well the dangers to which they are exposed by the treachery of their guides, the faithlessness of their drivers, and their neighbourhood to those bands of marauders; and many have been the robberies, and frequent the murders that have desecrated those wild and beautiful regions of ancient

romance.

deeds of wrong were guiltless in her
enhanced her affection for the doer.
this man have been beloved, for her

PAYABLE IN ADVANCE.

NUMBER 2.

estimation, and even Deeply, fondly, must countenance beamed

into brilliancy, and her dark full eyes seemed to kindle into a lustre that could have been caused by naught but love, as

she narrated to us the simple incidents of her married life.

There is a spell about a devoted heart that creeps into and diffuses itself over every heart with which it chances to

communicate. No matter whether that devotion be to a

worthy or unworthy object; it is the devotion itself we ad.
ever aiming at
mire, the tenacem propositi, which keeps
one object, and renders it, as Horace says, audax omnia
perpeti in the obtaining of its end.

But when such devotion springs thus engrossingly in woman's heart, how doubly valuable, how priceless is the gem! The affection of Medora was such for Conrad; and how, amid the splendid villanies of the Corsair, did this one great virtue work its counterpart in his soul! But, to return to the brigand's wife. A few weeks before our interview a party of the Papal soldiery had been dispatched to the neighbourhood in quest of Gironomo and his comrades; and though diligent search was made, they had been unable to discover the bandits. Daily, from morn till night, had this woman watched, from the spot where we met her, prepared, on the slightest appearance of danger, to warn her husband and provide for his safety; and, doubtless, even while we conversed with her, the brigand himself was within hail. No punishment, nor torture, would have wrung from that devoted woman's lips the secret of her husband's lurking

place.

J. W. N.

It was my lot, some few years ago, to traverse the very dis. trict in question, in company with a friend. Travelling on horseback by easy stages, we had skirted the greater part of the Atlantic coast, and having reached Spalatro, towards its southern extremity, we resolved to strike across the country, in a westerly direction, for Naples. Towards the sunset of one of the brightest days of the journey, and amid the wildest scenery that can be imagined, our attention was arrested by the figures of a female and child seated on a rock at no great distance from the road. The dress of the Italian peasants,-particularly of those in the neighbourhood of Rome and Naples-is, perhaps, the prettiest of the many costumes of the European continent; and so often has it been described, and so often represented in fancy costumes, that it is needless to particularize it here. Suffice it that the wearer was young, and sufficiently beautiful to attract the attention of any one whose heart was not marbled with Ir was the hour when the sun in heaven is supposed to the stony coldness of indifference. One glance was enough be least promiscuous-the hour when the five hundred to perceive that the child was her own; not only from its fashionables of London West-End receive his visit in the likeness to herself, as from the anxious look of maternal fond-open air, to the entire exclusion (it is presumed) of the reness with which she watched its movements.

It was impossible, in such a spot, and at such an hour, to pass by one whose appearance was so interesting, without at least dropping a "good even" to the genius loci. Pleading ignorance of the route, we passed sometime in gaining information thereof from the unknown, and also learnt much about herself.

She was the daughter of a Contadino in the Campagna di Roma, and was now the wife of an outlawed brigand. In the disguise of a peasant, he had often been seen in the village where she lived, and devoutly kneeling at mass in the little chapel of the same; his tall and muscular figure and handsome countenance, attracted the attention, and soon won the heart of the young and ardent Italian girl, and loving only too well, though too unwisely, she fled from her home with Gironomo. A few days, and the peasant's disguise was changed for the brigand's less peaceful attire; and in a rudely constructed hovel, amid rocky fastnesses, and dense woods, did the unfortunate bride find a new home. Love, the all-powerful, made cheerful even the dreariness of her abode; her husband was her hero, her worship; his

DASHES AT LIFE WITH A FREE PENCIL.

THE PHANTOM-HEAD UPON THE TABLE.
CHAPTER II.

Showing a gentleman's need of a horse.

maining population of the globe. The cabs and jarveys, the vehicles of the despised public, rolled past the forbidden gate of Hyde Park, and the echo stationed in the arched portal announced the coroneted carriages as they nicely nibbled the pleased gravel in passing under. A plebeian or two stood outside to get a look at the superiour beings whose daily list of company to dine is the news most carefully furnished to the instructed public. The birds (having "fine feathers") flew over the iron railing unchallenged by the gate-keeper. Four o'clock went up to Heaven's gate with the souls of those who had died since three, and with the hour's report of the world's sins and good deeds; and at the same moment a chariot rolled into the Park, holding between its claret panels the embellished flesh and blood of Lady Aymar and her incomparable daughter.

A group of gay men on horseback stood at the bend of "Rotten Row," watching the comers-in; and within the inner railing of the Park, among the promenaders on foot, was distinguishable the slight figure of Count Pallardos, pacing to and fro with step somewhat irregular. As Lady Aymar's chariot went by, he bowed with a frank and ready

smile, but the smile was quickly banished by a flushed cheek and lowering brow, for, from the group of mounted dandies, dashed out Lord Frederick Beauchief, upon a horse of unparalleled beauty, and with a short gallop took and kept his place close at the chariot window.

Pallardos watched them till the turn of the ring took them from his sight. The fitness of the group-the evident suitableness of Lord Frederick's position at that chariot window, filled him with a jealousy he could no longer stifle. The contest was all unequal, it was too palpable to deny. He, himself, whatever his person or qualities, was, when on foot, in the place allotted to him by his fortunes-not only unnoticed by the contagious admiration of the crowd, but unable even to obey his mistress, though beckoned by her smile to follow her! That superb animal, the very type of pride and beauty, arching his glossy neck and tossing his spirited head before the eyes of Lady Angelica, was one of those un-analyzed, undisputed vouchers for the owner's superiority, which make wealth the devil's gift-irresistible but by the pene. trating and cold judgment of superiour beings. How should a woman, born with the susceptible weaknesses of her sex, most impressible by that which is most showy and beautifulhow should she be expected to reason coldly and with philosophic discrimination on this subject?-how separate from Lord Frederick, the mere man, his subservient accompaniments of wealth, attendance, homage from others, and infatuated presumption in himself! Nay-what presumption in Spiridion Pallardos-(so he felt, with his teeth set together in despair, as he walked rapidly along)—to suppose that he could contend successfully against this and a thou- | sand such advantages and opportunities, with only his unpriced, unproved love to offer her, with a hand of poverty! His heart ran drowningly over with the bitterness of con

viction!

After a few steps Pallardos turned back with an instinctive though inexplicable desire to hasten the pang of once more meeting them as they came round the ring of the Park. Coming towards him, was one of the Honourable officials of Downing-street, with whom he had been thrown in contact, a conceited and well-born diner-out, mounted on a handsome cob, but with his servant behind him on a blood hunter. Mr. Dallinger was walking his horse slowly along the fence, and, as he came opposite Pallardos, he drew rein.

"Count!" said he, in that patronizing tone which is tossed over the head of the patronized like a swan's neck over the worm about to be gobbled, "a-a-a-do you know Spanish?"

"Yes. Why?"

for you," said he quickly, springing over the railing, and
seizing the rein, to which the man still held, while the fright-
ed horse backed and reared towards his master.
"A-a-yes, if you like!"

Pallardos sprang into the saddle, loosened the rein and leaned forward, and with three or four powerful bounds, the horse was at the other window of the chariot. Away, with the bursted trammels of heart and brain, went all thoughts of the horse's owner, and all design, if any had flashed on his mind, of time or place for restoring him. Bred in a halfcivilized country, where the bold hand was often paramount to law, the Greek had no habit of mind likely to recognize in a moment of passion even stronger barriers of propriety than he was now violating; and, to control his countenance and his tongue, and summon his resources for an apparently careless and smiling contest of attraction with his untroubled rival, was work enough for the whole mind and memory, as well as for all the nerve and spirit of the excited Greek. He laid his hand on the chariot window, and thinking no more of the horse he was subduing than the air he breathed, broke up his powerful gallop to a pace that suited him, and played the lover to the best of his coolness and ability.

"We saw you walking just now, and were lamenting that you were not on horseback," said Lady Aymar, "for it is a sweet evening, and we thought of driving out for a stroll in old Sir John Chasteney's grounds at Bayswater. Will you come, Spiridion? Tell White to drive there!"

Lord Frederick kept his place, and with its double escort, the equipage of the Aymars sped on its way to Bayswater. Spiridion was the handsomer man and the more graceful rider, and, without forcing the difficult part of keeping up a conversation with those within the chariot, he soon found his uneasiness displaced by a glow of hope and happiness; for Lady Angelica, leaning far back in her seat, and completely hidden from Lord Frederick, kept her eyes watchfully and steadily upon the opposite side where rode her less confident lover. The evening was of summer's softest and richest glory, breezy and fragrant; and as the sun grew golden, the party alighted at the gates of Chasteney Park-in tune for love, it must needs be, if ever conspiring smiles in nature could compel accord in human affections.

Ah, happy Spiridion Pallardos! The Lady Angelica called him to disengage her dress from the step of the carriage, and her arm was in his when he arose, placed there as confidingly as a bride's, and with a gentle pressure that was half love and half mischief-for she quite comprehended that Lord Frederick's ride to Bayswater was not for the pleasure of a twilight stroll through Chasteney Park with her mother! That mother, fortunately, was no duenna. She

"A-a-I've a job for you! You know Moreno, the Spanish secretary-well, his wife-she will persist in dis-had pretensions of her own to admiration, and she was only guising her billet-doux in that stilted language, and-you know what I want-suppose you come and breakfast with me to-morrow morning!"

Pallardos was mentally crowding his contemptuous refusal into the smallest phrase that could convey repulse to insolence, when the high-stepping and foam-spattered forelegs of Lady Aymar's bays appeared under the drooping branch|| of the tree beyond him. The next instant, Lord Frederick's easily carried head danced into sight-a smile of perfect self-satisfaction on his face, and his magnificent horse, excited by the constant check, prancing at his proudest. At the moment they passed, Dallinger's groom, attempting to restrain the impatience of the spirited hunter he was upon, drew the curb a little too violently, and the man was thrown. The sight of the empty saddle sent a thought through the brain of Pallardos like a shaft.

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particular as to the quantity. Her daughter's division with her of the homage of their male acquaintances, was an evil she indolently submitted to, but she was pleased in proportion as it was not obtruded upon her notice. As Pallardos and the Lady Angelica turned into one of the winding alleys of the grounds, Lady Aymar bent her large eyes very fixedly upon another, and where such beautiful eyes went before, her small feet were very sure to follow. The twilight threw its first blur over the embowering foliage as the parties lost sight of each other, and, of the pair who are the hero and heroine of this story, it can only be disclosed that they found a Heaven, (embalmed, for their particular use, in the golden dusk of that evening's twilight,) and returned to the Park gate in the latest minute before dark, sworn lovers, let come what would! But meantime, the happy man's horse had disappeared, as well he might have been expected to do, his bridle having been thrown over a bush by the en

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