Badly, ma! Hist! hist! guarda, guarda!' said the man. 'Look to the door. I saw some movement, I am sure.'

Beppo looked towards his officer for orders.

'Aspettate,' said the sergeant, 'sling your guns, and go and fetch as many of the faggots you brought from the wood as you can carry. We'll see if we can't smoke that rat out of his hole,-quick! I meant in the first instance to have roasted the whole of them; but they have disappointed me. This ladrone shan't escape.'

During the few moments that passed before the faggots were brought, the sergeant had time for one glimpse of reflection. The recollection of the heavy loss of his little party struck him, and he said to himself, Dio buono, there has been too much blood spilt to-night. I should like, too, to take that ruffian alive, if it is he whom I suspect it is, and, unless I blunder confoundedly, I saw one among that band to-night whose figure I and many others have good reason to remember. What if I challenge that desperate devil to surrender, before I surround him with his own element? Why, he won't that's certain. Sicuramente, there is something very puzzling in his remaining quiet so long. He can have no fire-arms or ammunition, that is quite certain. Is he dead, or has he escaped? A curse on that vile bullet which has disabled me! I can't move, mala.-Go fetch the rest,' said he to Beppo and the shepherd, as they brought in the first bundles of wood: fate presto ;' and when the remainder were brought, they were in a moment piled against the door, which was well secured from within, and strongly made.

To fire the dry wood was but the work of a minute, and in a few more it was blazing furiously, and the flame attaching itself to the door. Beppo was ordered to look to the roof, although, from its not having been attempted already, there was but little reason to suppose the robber would escape by that means; but the moment had arrived when he must either attempt to escape, die, or surrender. The door was by this time thoroughly ignited, cracking and burning fiercely, and in a few minutes more the lower part fell away, leaving a large opening.

6

Try it with the butt-end of your musket, Beppo, and stand on the alert, shepherd, to fire.' Beppo struck the door, and more of it gave way. Throw in some lighted sticks, and pull the rest of the fire a little on one side of the doorway. Have a care, Beppo, and remember that the fellow within has a long arm, and no doubt a knife at the end of it. Look to yourself, Beppo-look to your gun, shepherd.'

'Andrea, caro mio, come lo va.'

"Eh così così,' said the poor fellow, still keeping his hand and eye applied to his musket.

Throw in more wood, Beppo, so as to get a peep at what is going on inside.'

Beppo did as he was desired. and as the few bits which remained outside burnt more dimly, the interior of the building could be very plainly seen; still near the door, on either side, there was quite room enough for a man to conceal himself. The sergeant hesitated about ordering Beppo to enter. The idea of sacrificing his life, a very probable result, touched him closely, particularly after what had so recently passed. He hit his lip, pressed his hand to his forehead, and then turning to the shepherd, as if he expected him to volunteer, exclaimed,

Which of you will go in and bring that ruffian out?' Beppo, without speaking, made a sign to the shepherd to keep back, and instantly started forward towards the door of the casale. 'No, no, Beppo-caro mio, no-fermate !-stop, via.'

But at this moment some movement appeared to have been made within; for Andrea, who, as has been said, was watching at the side of the sergeant, directly fired his gun, as at the next instant did the shepherd. Immediately the hat of the brigand was seen in the doorway in the midst of the smoke: the two muskets of the sergeant and the Buffalo were instantly fired, and the brigand disappeared. Quick as thought Beppo was within the casale. There was quite light enough to see the bare walls around, but the brigand was not within them! Beppo gave a sort of grunt expressive of surprise, while the shepherd indulged in certain exclamations expressive of what he thought and felt. Is he killed?' demanded the sergeant.

'Maladetto, no; he has fled he has escaped!'

'A thousand curses upon him,' said the sergeant, and upon you all! Follow him, Beppo-after him, shepherd-he can't be far. Search for him-don't lose him. Sangue di Dio, don't let him escape! Madonna mia, che disgrazia!"

No time was lost in pursuing the fugitive. Beppo started on one side of the casale, and the shepherd on the other, and in a moment they were lost sight of in the darkness. The sergeant continued to lament and curse; then turning to his wounded companion, he said, 'Andrea, caro mio, come si fa? What's to be done?"

'Eh,' responded the poor fellow, uffiziale mio, chi sa? Who can tell what is to be done?' And here both ceased to speak, as if from exhaustion.

The night was now far advanced, and some symptoms of the morning might be seen languidly rising over the distant mountain tops. It was not a scene for the sun to look upon; night suited it better, and her dark and thickly-bespangled pall, as if heedless of day's cheerful summons, hung still over it, sullenly keeping its place. In the east a few stars had begun to pale their fires, but one still held out triumphantly effulgent and bright beyond all the rest; whilst in the opposite hemisphere Night kept up her starry sway with obstinate dignity, burning her thousand lamps with undiminished splendour. There was one long luminous track, reaching from one side of heaven to the other, of cold pale lustre, which here and there was brightened with the infusion of innumerable luminous specks; and then there came a point more bright, that glistened like a diamond, and came and went in alternating loveliness. Others again shone out with mild and steady light, burning sedately in their quiet spheres, and keeping up their harmony and concord with their old and bright companions, which countless ages had never changed nor interrupted. Over the Mediterranean sea (the smooth mirror into which these mountains look) there hung the same mass of clouds, now dense and dark, that had followed the sun at his departure, lingering in gloom, as if still they mourned his loss. The tideless and pacific sea broke with a murmuring sound upon the shore, and the night-wind, as it swept over the heights, came with chilly touch and mournful cadence. A melancholy stillness hung upon every object round, broken only by the howl of the wolf and the cry of the long-winged owl. Nothing could surpass the dreariness of the situation and the scene. A few bits of the burnt faggots still continued

to sparkle with a low and ruddy light, and once, when some dry leaf or straw got fanned into a momentary blaze, the sad and silent heap of the dead could be distinguished as they lay with unclosed eyes, vacantly looking upwards among those celestial fires they saw not, or could ever see again. The last of these fitful illuminations had just subsided into darkness, and a long and dreary interval had passed in which no sound was heard. At length the sergeant thus spoke in a low voice to his fellow-sufferer: 'Have you slept, comrade?'

• Madonna mia, I almost fear I have, but I know not.'

'Andrea,' said the sergeant, tell me, caro mio, tell me if you think you could walk to the door of the casale?'

'Cristo santo,' replied the poor fellow, I fear it is impossible, but I'll try. I managed to crawl here from the rock where I was wounded, after I recovered from fainting with the pain of my wounds; but I fear I am now so benumbed I cannot move."

'Well, take your time,' said the sergeant. As for me, I can neither go myself nor assist you; so if you cannot go, Andrea, I must wait.' No, no, ufficiale mio, it shall be done subito, vado.'

The wounded soldier, with many a groan, and with great pain and difficulty, raised himself, and stood tottering upon his feet, his left arm hanging shattered and useless by his side, waiting for orders.

'I am certain, Andrea,' said the sergeant, 'that when that little blaze sprung up just now, I saw a hat lying close to the door of the casale. Go, and if you find it, bring it here to me.'

Andrea hobbled towards the object, which, as the sergeant suggested, proved to be one of the pointed hats worn by the brigands, and ornamented with bands and ribands. Andrea stopped, and took it up just as it lay, with one end of a stick in the inside of it. Poising it upon the end of the stick just as he had taken it up, he managed, after much difficulty, to return with it to the sergeant. The moment it came within sight the sergeant exclaimed,

Accidentaccio! siama propriamente ingannati, we have been properly cheated. Maladetto, that cunning scoundrel put his hat out of the door upon the end of that stick; we shot at it, and as soon as our guns were discharged, he escaped. Cospetto di Dio! here are two bulletholes in it.'

GILES CHAWBACON ;

OR, THE ADVENTURES OF A MOON-RAKER.

BY PAUL PINDAR.

[WITH AN ILLUSTRATION BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.]

CHAPTER THE FIRST.

In which Giles's penchant for bread and cheese is illustrated, and in which he eschews the discipline of the mop.

OTHER!' cried young Giles Chawbacon, with his mouth crammed full, a huge hunk of bread and cheese in his left hand, and a clasp-knife in the other, -mother, cut I 'nother bit 'g'in I done thick!"

Mistress Chawbacon was a vixen, as her red-tipped and sharp nose plainly indicated; and being at the moment busily engaged in her household duties, she gave no heed to the supplication of her hopeful

'Mother!' cried Giles again; but ere he could articulate another word, his amiable parent seized the mop, and vibrating it in his face, threatened to annihilate him, accompanying the action with a torrent of abuse.

"Od drattle the greedy wosbird!' cried the dame. 'Thee bist the very spit o' thee vather, and 'll come to the gallus as zhure 's death.'

Giles received this maternal address with great fortitude, continuing the demolition of the bread and cheese. The fact was, that he had long been used to such harangues, and had become hardened. His mamma continued to lecture him upon his voracity.

'Ha'f a dozen varment like thee, 'ou'd breed a vamin',' said the dame, again shaking the mop. 'Thee bist a yeatin' all day.'

'I'm zhure I be n't, mother,' replied the boy. I dwon't yeat ha'f as much as Jonas.'

'Dwon't 'e be peart, ye young twoad!' cried Mistress Chawbacon, reddening like a turkey-cock, or I'll break thee mazzard vor thee!'

There was an audible silence for some minutes, interrupted only by the silence of Giles's molares; at length he ventured to speak again.

Mother,' said he, 'gie I a piece more bread; I yeats a good deal o' bread wi' my cheese.'

'Ah! and a plaguy deal o' cheese wi' thee bread,' cried his affectionate parent, cutting him a slice, with a grudging air.

'Thank 'e, mother, thank 'e,' said Giles, perceiving that his ruse had taken; now a piece o' cheese, mother.'

'Now, upon my zowl!' cried Mistress Chawbacon, 'I do think thee bist a mind to yeat us out o' house and whome.'

'Lor', mother!' replied Giles; 'dwon't 'e be aveard on 't-such a cheese as thuck be n't yeat zo vast.'

He pointed to the diminished disc as he spoke with his clasped knife, just as a general would show the damaged wall of an outwork after an assault. The effect was to rouse the ire of his parent to its highest pitch.

If th'

'Dal thee body!' cried the dame at the top of her voice. doesn't get out o' the house, I'll break every bwone in thee skin!' With these words she again flourished her household weapon so menacingly that Giles, finding the place had really become too hot to hold him, beat a retreat, and bolted out at the door.

Our chopstick didn't venture to look behind him until he had cleared the little garden in front of the cottage; but, when he did look, he saw his mamma's angry visage at the door, her long skinny fingers grasping the mop, and her sharp hazel eyes looking pitchforks. He felt that he had decamped just in time to save a broken head, and the rumpling of his clean smock frock, which he had that morning put on to go to Highworth Mop, as the annual fairs where servants are hired are called by the good people of Wiltshire and Gloucestershire.

'What a caddle th' ould body's makin',' said Giles to himself, finding that he was out of ear-shot; how a 'll gi' it vather when a comes whome!'

With these reflections, Giles finished the crust, of which he still retained possession, and trudged on his way to Highworth, singing lustily snatches of a west country ditty.*

Allegro

поп

Troppo.

f 3

4

My neam is Dick Brad - ley, A bwoy as loves
P

In which Giles Chawbacon, eschewing one mop, betakes himself to another. Он, ye dwellers in the land of Cockaigne, who fancy that the sun rises at Barking, and sets at Putney! who twice a week catch, perchance, a glimpse of that glorious luminary when on the meridian, but who find consolation in a galaxy of gas-lights at midnight! how shall we describe to you the appearance of a country market-place on the day of a Mop! Permit us to attempt the sketch, but assist our feeble pen by drawing a little on your imaginations. Fancy, then, rows of men and women decked in their best, all standing in the market-place,

.

Happening to remember the airs of some of these ditties, which we have often heard in our youth, we are tempted to give the score of them here, that they may not be utterly lost to posterity. Though we cannot entirely coincide in opinion with our inestimable friend, Ralph Rustyfusty, Esq., F.S. A., that some of them are as old as Moses'-yet that they were known in England when NormanFrench was not the polite larguage of this island, seems very probable. That songs to such tunes were sung in the halls of the Saxon Thanes, before the Nor man invasion, may be inferred from their evident primitive character, and from the fact of their being preserved among a people in whose language many purely Anglo-Saxon words may yet be discovered.