SAXIIEL WRIGHT, Editor and Proprietor VOLUME XXVIII, NUAIBER, 37.1 PUBLISHED EVERY SITURDAY MORNING. Office in Northern Central Railroad Com trany's Building, north-west corner Front and Walnut streets. Terms of Subscription , Eerie Copy per annum,if paid in advance •• 11 not paid within three months from commencement of they en r, 200 41, Coats n. Copy. No •übseription received for a lei.+ time than six ono/atlas; and no paper will lie di-continued mini all 'avrearages are paid, unless at the option of the pub • ialler. [l:7sloney may be remitted by mail at the publish er's risk. Rates of Advertising. 1 square [6 lines] one week, •. three weeks, .4 each .ulmequent insertion, 10 1 " [l2lines] one week, 50 0 three weeks, t 00 0 each .ulmequent insertion, 25 Largeradvertisemeat in proportion. A liberal discount will be made to quarterly, hall. yearly or yearlyadvertisers,who are swell) euuhaed to their busirse.ii. loony. A Woman's Question. Before 1 trust my fate to Uwe, Or place 1111 y hand in thine, Before I let thy future give Color and form to nune— Before I peril all for thee. Question thy soul to-night. far me I break all slighter hood v, nor feel One shadow of regret: Is there one link within the pact That holds thy spirit yet? Or is thy faith as clear and free As that which I can pledge to thee? Does there within thy dimmest dreams A possible future shine, 'Wherein thy life could henceforth breathe Untouched, unsbared by mine? If so, at any pain or coi , t, 0 toll me before all to 10,t Look deeper still. If thou eunst feel Within thy inmost soul. That thou host L ept u portion buck-, While I have &naked the whoe, Let no raise pity spare the blow, But in true mercy tell toe so. Is there within thy heart a need That mine can not fulfdl ' One chord that any other Lund Could better wake or still Speak now, 1,4 at some future day, My whole life wither and decay. Liven there, within thy nature hid, The demon-spirit. Change, Shedding a passing glory still On all things new and strange? It may not be thy fault :dune But shield my heart :tgainst thy own Could thou withdraw thy hand one day, And answer to toy That fate, and that to-tlay's mistake, Not thou, had been to blame' Some soothe, their CollieleliCe thus; but thou— Oh, surely thou, will warn Inc tow grtEttirrito. The Pariah's Revenge I was once acquainted with a Frenchman who could smoke any two Germans down. Ire was an artist, and, when I knew him, an exile, having got mixed up in some of the conspiracies against Louis Phillippe; but he always declared that his uncommon skill in the art of consuming tobacco hail been acquired during his residence in British In dia, where he was employed for years in copying scriptures and inscriptions from the ancient tombs and temples for the Institute of France. Of his other experience in the land of the Brahmins, he was not inclined to talk much on English ground; but one evening when we sat together, and his long pipe was•in full play—my friend was gen erally most fluent then—our conversation happened to turn on the extent of empire England had obtained in the east. "A curious study they are," he said. "the 'Endo° and his ruler. Nature never in tended the two races to occupy one country; suppose they were willing, it is an absolute impossibility that they could ever under stand each other. The oriented character and that of the Anglo-Saxon are the oppo site poles of mankind; hence the rule of England in India has bad no moral result. It has familiarized the natives with Euro pean commerce, and, to a certain extent, with European science too; but the Ilindoo and the Musselmam remain as far from Britain as their ancestors." My response was about missions, and schools, and time. "Well," said my friend, "we would never agree, and it's no matter; but I'll tell you an adventure which rather enlightened me .9n the subject when I was new in India." 'This he did as follows: "It was at Agra, the ancient capital, -where the sultans of the Persian dynasty reigned and built before the days of the `Mogul. The modern city is still of great .importance. There are holy places within ;its walls for Ilindoo and Mohammedan, an nglish garrison, and a considerable trade; but all around stood witnesses of earlier power and splendor—temples and palaces, and regal tombs—scattere I for miles over ,the country, and interspersed with palm groves, native hamlets, and the bungalows ,of the English residents. I had a full twelve months work among them; and, among other acquaintances made in my perigrina- Cons, was that of an English family named Jackson. They had what might be termed a strong position in Modest:tn. Mr. Jack son was a high law officer for the province ; Mrs. Jackson's brother was at the head of the Agra custom-house; their son was a captain in one of the regiments of that native army by which England keeps her hold on India, and their daughter was married to one of the company's judges in Calcutta.— With their family interest so well represent ed, and tit7ed connections in one of the mid land counties of England, where they were born, you may believe that the Jacksons were rich and important people. They had a house in the City of Agra, chiefly for the transaction of business, and nn extensive bungalow on the outskirts, situated on the banks of a rivulet. surrounded by a garden full of Indian flowers, shaded from the south ern sun by tall elms, and commanding a glorious prospect of splendid ruins and eastern vegetation. There they lived in a degree of material luxury known only to the Anglo-Indian. Nothing was wanted that wealth could purchase, and they possessed the love for elegance and taste; so the great law yer and his lady were considered the elite of Agra society, and my acquaintance with them could only be accounted fur on the ground that Europeans out of uniform were rather scarce, that life is somewhat dull in the company's territory, that the Jacksons wanted their portraits, and that I was want ed to paint them. "They had resided almost thirty years in India, and believed themselves thoroughly acquainted with it and its people. So they might have been as regarded time and op portunity; but unfortunately the Jacksons had brought the English midland counties with them, and never could get rid of the burthen. They reasoned on the dwellers by the Jumnm exactly as they would have done on those beside the,Trent,and applied the rules of conduct laid down for Jim and Bill, in all the rigor of their Angloism, to Ali and Ila nou. Mr. Jackson was an upright, honora ble man, with little depth and much narrow ness of mind. Of his spouse I will only premise that she did not pretend to be inter esting, and the only part of her conversation I recollect is a lament over the inferiority of meat in India, and a wonder that the Hin doos did not leave off worshiping idols when they were told it was wrong. Their son—of whom I saw a good deal, his regiment being I then in garrison at Agra—was a handsome young man, with very red whiskers, and a great though silent esteem of himself; and of their daughter I only know that she was a young married lady of remarkable propri ety, and had two really beautiful children, twin boys, around whom the whole family's affection, and much of its pride, was gath ered. "The letters from Calcutta were full of them —their saying., their doings, and their general progress. They were the theme to which Mrs. Jackson returned from the two leading subjects I have mentioned—the topic to which the lawyer came down from his official dignity, and on which the captain condescended to unbend his mind. The twins were now in their fourth year, but the old people had not seen them since their first summer. The distance between Agra and Calcutta made the visit of the judge's lady to her parents rather rare. However, in the third quarter of my7acquaintance with the Jacksons, it was publicly announced that Mrs. Lester was coming with the dear children, and I was engaged to paint their portraits. DM *0 19 "Like most families of distinction in British India, the Jacksons kept a consider able retinue. The requisitions of caste, which always limit the Ifindoo's labor, and the indolence superinduced by a tropical climate, contribute to augment the number of these household troops. My friends had servants of all sorts and sizes; but among them there was none in more esteem and trust than a native girl who acted as Mrs. Jackson's own maid, and held besides sun dry important offices, such as the charge of the household linen and the dealing out of the spices. They called her %elle; and when her good mistress was in a hurry it became Sally sometimes, but I believe her proper name was Zellaya. She was a Pariah—at least she did not oltiect to do or touch any thing; but her appearance had something of high caste in it, for that peculiar institu tion of India has the advantage of making the classes known without the help of dress or equipage. "Zelle had the tall, slender figure, the fea tures of that fine mould which might be termed the classical of Ifindostan—the up right carriage and elastic grace, the long, shining hair and pure olive complexion, which distinguish the Brahmin's daughter. She was young, too—l think no more than seventeen. By the way, that is not counted extreme youth in the east; but there was a cold glitter in her black eye, which, in spite of so mach 'beauty, would not have charmed me. I thought Captain Jackson had come to a different conclusion. The near neigh borhood of his garrison made him almost s resident with his parents, and my frequent visits, in the double capacity of artist and friend, to the family, enabled me to observe that Zelle's dress, which was a tasteful com- ' promise between the costumes of Europe and India, was always more studied, and her black hair more carefully braided, when the captain was at home. Of course, it was by accident; but I once espied something very like an assignation in the garden, though, from circumstances too minute to be so long remembered, I believe that the siege did not advance as rapidly as the gallant captain could have wished; and Mrs. Jockson had a mighty opinion of her maid. It was not easy to make an impression on the heart of that very respectable lady; but Zelle had achieved it, for the girl was clever and han dy. I was told she could mend and clear starch, mark and cut out as well as any maid from England ; that she had never been known ..co tell a fib, black Or white; might be trusted with any-body's wardrobe or jew el-case, and give no trouble on the score of "NO ENTERTAINMENT IS SO MEAL' AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING." • COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, MARCH 20, 1858. caste. Mrs. Jackson also said that the girl was sincerely attached to her family; and with good reason, for they had been great benefactors to her and all her relations; and the good woman was accustomed to relate how Zelle's life, as well as that of her four sisters, had been saved in their infancy by the attorney-general's interference with that peculiar institution which, in some parts of Hingoston saves the higher castes the trou ble of providing trousseau and wedding feasts: how her mother had been prevented from becoming a suttee by Mrs. Jackson's cousin, then in the Agra mission, '•though the poor creature was scorned for it by her heathen people. and somehow fell into the Jumna afterwards;" how her three brothers got advice and assistance from every branch of the Jacksons to take up honest trades, when the company dispossessed them of some land to which they had no right in law; how, in consequence, one had a place in the custom-house, one had become a soldier in the captain's regiment, and one a small mer chant at Agra; Mrs. Jackson always wound up that recital of benefits by stating that %elle had been three years at the school for native girls; that she could real English as well as Ilindostanee; that she bad never refused a tract, and the missionaries had great hopes of her. "Mrs. Lester's visit was expected to take place in the cool and pleasant season of the Indian year which the English residents persist in calling the winter, because it ex tends from October to March, and their Christmas dinners come off in the midst of it. Intervening between the time of rain and the fierce heat, it seems the natural sea son for travelling; but by those many casu alties which beset the goings forth of ladies —who will take everything with them as well as maids and children—the judge's spouse, for he himself, good man, stayed at home in hot Calcutta, found it impossible to set out as early as she had intended; but, as she travelled in the most expeditious man lier, by boat and palanquin, it was hoped the family would reach Agra before the reg ular deluge set in. Meantime, my commis sion to paint the children had widened into a family group. Somebody had suggested that the moment of arrival would be the most striking scene; and as it was necessa ry to witness the ceremony before transfer ring it to canvas, I was bound to be at the Jackson's bungalow in good time on the day the visitors were expected. Having English patrons to deal with, I was punctual. Mrs. Lester and company were due early in the afternoon, and the house was on the qui vire fur hours; but there was no arrival. To wards evening, the rain, which had fallen in occasional showers for some days, as it does at the beginning of its season, conic down in good earnest, with a fag-end of a thunder storm, which we heard raging far to the southward, and the Jacksons comforted themselves with the hope that the travelers had taken refuge in some tomb or ruin, of which there was no lack on the way, mid would come on as soon as the storm passed and the moon rose. It had been arranged I I that I should remain until the picture was finished, and a painting room was assigned me accordingly, situated in a sort of wing which Mr. Jackson's predecessor had built for a ball-room; but the Jacksons being quiet people, who gave no balls, had divided it into three, by partitions of Indian matting. The central division was any painting-room. rather better lighted than any artist would desire by two windows looking into the gar den; to the right was my bedroom, and on the left a spare apartment, considered the coolest in the house, and therefore intended for the much regarded twins. Partitions of Indiap,matting, though cheap and movable. have two great faults—namely: that they allow sounds to pass readily, and are apt to show minute crevices when they get dry.— , I was standing close by the one which di vided mine from the children's room, putting the color-box in order by the last light of day—and the Indian night gives short warn ing—when, through the heavy rain, which was coming down in water-spouts, there came la sort of half hiss, half whisper—the queer est sound thatever struck my ear. I was born in France; and there was a crevice within reach of my eye. What need of fur ther apology? There was Zella alone, and all wet, as if she had just crept in through the window, which stood open, taking out l of her little grass basket something like a large green ball, which she carefully tucked in under the bolster of the bed. Which of her duties the trusted maid land come to perform so stealthily, I could not guess; but she stepped out of the window and closed it behind her so swiftly and silently, that I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw her glide away into the verandah. "The rain continued, and the travelers did not come. Mrs. Jackson hoped they had stopped for that day with some of the many friends they had on the road, and the family retired to rest at the usual hour. But the dry season makes crevices in roofs as well as in partitions; the rain had found one just above my bed, and poured in such a torrent, that, before it was discovered, the chamber was perfectly uninhabitable. My good hos tess, however, requested that I would occupy the children's room for the night; and I had installed myself there with candle and writing-case, in order to write letters which were justly duo to sundry correspondents, for I was not inclined to sleep. "The whole house was silent. It was near midnight; and I was half-way in a letter to Armandine—we were friends then—when a slight rustle made me look up, and there stood Zelle, as erect and composed as if she had come for one of the oft-mentioned tracts. " 'Saib,' said she, 'there's a cobra in a your bed ; I smelled it a I passed your door,-for my family were serpent-charmers. What will you give me if I take it away?' "'How did it come there?" said I, pre tending to write on, though my pen was making cobras on the paper, fur the green ball I had seen taken out of the barket re curred to my memory, and I knew the said serpent to be the most deadly of its kind.— The Portugese settlers call it the eapella, or hooded-snake, by which name it is known in Europe; but it had obviously no t been placed under the bed for me, and as Zelle replied quite innocently, 'ldon't know, Sail); my resolution was taken, though it was cer tainly not the best policy. 'l'll give you half a rupee,' said I, and with a quiet ges ture of assent to the bargain, Zelle approach ed the bed, turned up the bolster, and, without haste or fear, lifted out the deadly thing, coiled up exactly as she had laid it in; and, may I be forgiven, bat I half wished it might bite her. Nothing of the kind happened to Mrs. Jackson's maid; she laid the cobra carefully in her muslin apron opened the window, and stepped out into the garden. The rain had ceased and the moon was shining. I saw her go down the walk straight to the outer gate. She opened it too, and I followed her, but long before I could reach the gate it was locked behind her and the girl was out of sight. I re turned to my writing-table, certain that she would come back for the half-rupee; and in less than half an hour back %elle came by the very way she went, and closed the win dow saying: "'Now, Seib, the cobra's at home with his friends, and has promised never to come near your bed again.' "'Very well, %elle,' said I, getting be tween her and the door, 'I have promised you a half-rupee, and 1 will give it to you, but I saw you put the cobra in the bed this evening. If you tell me why you did so I will not mention it to any of the family till you arc two (lays safe out of the house; and if you do not, I will rouse them atl, and tell them this instant.' "%elle looked to see whether there was any way of escape; but I had my eye on the window; then her face took the fixed, stony look of the eastern, who knows his destiny is not propitious. "'Sail),' said she, 'I put it there to kill the judge's children. My mother sent it to me, to lie revenged on this family fur all the evil they have done to ours. Listen, and I will tell you the truth, for you do not come from England. My father was a Brahmin and Zemindar, he inherited his land by adoption into the family of our an cient neighbor Guzroo, and the Sail) Lester, who then gave law in Agra, took it from him, saying he haul no right, and it belonged to the company. It had always been the custom to rear but one daughter in our house, and in due time that daughter was NI edded, with a marriage-feast becoming n family of high caste; but the Sail) Jackson found out this custom, and so frightened our people with his law that all the girls grew up. When my father's soul departed, my mother determined to become a suttee, ac- J cording to the custom of her ancestors, that the family might have honor in this world and in Paradise; but the preaching, Sail), who is also one of the Jacksons, talked so much, that fear came upon her when the pile was ready, and she could not perform ' the ceremony. Now, see what the doings of these hogs, who eat everything, hat e brought upon my people. By the loss of this land, my father could not make the accustomed offerings, he therefore lost his standing in I the temples and in the favor of the gods.— By the loss of their inheritance my brothers 1 1 were brought down to trades beneath their 1 castes. There were no means to make mar -1 riage feasts fur five daughters: all my sis ters are therefore married to low•caste men, I and I am a Pariah, drinking out 9S common vessels. and going abroad with an unveiled face. My mother was so despised by her neighbors at the holy places, that she would not live, but throw herself in the Jumna, an offering to the goddess Purge, who will not refuse even the polluted. By her favor, she has reached the transmigration of the ser pent, and sent the cobra to me that we might be avenged on this family, who worship nothing but rupees, and think to buy heaven and earth with them. Now, Saib, give me my wages, for I have taken away the cobra and told you the truth.' "I did not venture to reason with the maid of whom the missionaries had hopes. She took her half-rupee, and glided away to her own room. My own sleep was not sound that night, and in the morning Zelie was no where to be found. Neither mistress nor servants could give any account of her, but that she had performed her accustomed du ties and retired to rest as usual ; that her room was all in order, and her trunks and best clothes gone with her. I resolved to keep my promise and let the two days elapse; but, in the interim, I could not resist telling the story to a countryman and confidential friend of n.ine, who bad been for fifteen years a silk merchant in Agra. "'Take my advice.' said be, 'and say nothing about it. I know something of the English; they'll wonder why you did not immediately tell her master—whatbusiness you had to look through chinks—in short. they won't believe you; and if the girl's disappearance has no worse effect on your reputation, you will be set down as a jesmit in disguise, and I understand the Jacksous arc stiff Protestants; yet it might be as well to warn the family by an anonymous letter.' "I took his advice, and the letter was sent; but not being in their confidence, the Jacksons never mentioned it to me. "The lady deeply regretted the absence of her handy maid. Mr. Jackson made dili gent inquiries after her, but all to no pur pose; but sometime after, the part of her doings which mo.t puzzled me was cleared up. Why, do you think, did she come to remove the cobra? Not for the half-rupee :done; but her brother, the merchant at Agra, happened to be the very man from whom I was in the habit of purchasing trifles for myself and presents for toy friend. at home, and the bill I owed him just then saved my life. "The children arrived a week after, and I painted the family group. I saw Zelle dancing as a nautch-girl at one of the festi vals at Delhi. I heard the following sum. mer that the twins had died from the bite of a serpent received in the garden of their father's country houQe near Calcutta: and since then I never went to bed in India without first looking narrowly under the bolster. Twice Hanged FROM TOE runsuit. Have you ever been to La Piroche? "Nu!" no more Intro I. Consequently, I shall take no unfair advantage of my know ledge of the place to inflict upon you a de scription of it, more especially as, between us be it said, nothing is more tiresome than descriptions are. Consequently, I have only to state that, at the moment when the tale I am about to tell commences, it is noon, that the month is May, that the road on which we are en tering is bounded to the right by heath and broom, to the left by the sea, and you know I at once what I do not tell you,—namely. that the broom is green, that the sea is blus tering, that the sky is blue, that the sun is hot, and the road is dusty. 1 have only to add, that this same road, which winds along the coast of Brittany, goes front La Puteri to La Piroche; that Le Piroche is a village I have never seen, but which must be just like every other village; that we are fairly afloat in the fifteenth cen tury, in 1418; and that two men, one elder than the other, one the father and the other the son, both peasants, arc jogging along the road, mounted on a couple of ponies, which trot at a pace sufficiently agreeable, consid ering they arc only ponies bestrode by pea sants. "Shall we get there in time?" asked the "Yes: it won't take place before two o'clock," answered the father. "and it is only a quarter past noon, b the sun." - "It is s hat 1 am very curious to see." hai c no doubt you are." "And so he is to be hung iu the armor he stole?" ' "Yes." "Was the armor handsome?" "Magnificent, they say, embossed all over with gold." "And he was caught as lie was making away with it?" "Yes: you can comprehend that the armor was not to he carried on' without making a horrible clanking and rattling. The people in the chateau were awakened by the j they heard." "And they arrested the fellow?" "Not immediately; they were in a fright at first." afraid of whom?" "Of a ghost. This wretched thief, of un common strength, held the armor in front of him, in such a way that his bead was at about the level of the waist of the said ar mor, so that it appeared to be of gigantic proportions in the corridor along which he passed. All to that a harsh noise which the cunning rascal made behind him. and you can fancy what a terror the valets were in. Unfortunately- for him, they went and roused the Seigneur of La Piroche, who cares a straw for no man, either living or dead, who simply, and without any one's assistance, stopped the thief, and delivered him up, bound hand and foot, to his own proper justice." "And his own proper justice?" "Condemned him to be hanged, clad in the armor." "Wherefore that clause in the sentence?" "Because the Seigneur of La Piroche is not only a brave captain, but a man of sense and spirit, who wants to obtain from this just condemnation both an example for others and a benefit fur himself. Well, don't you know that whatever has touched a hanged man becomes a talisman fur its possessor? The Seigneur of La Piroche, therefore, ordered the criminal to be clad i n his armor, that he might take it back after he was dead, and so have a talisman in our coining wars." "That's a very clever stroke!" "I should think so. indeed!" "Let us push on, then: for I particularly want to see this poor wretch hanged." The father and son continued their jour ney, chatting as they went, and half an hour afterwards they reached La Piroche. There was an immense concourse of peo ple in the grand square in front of the cha teau, for there the seaffhid was erected—a very hand.otne gallows, in truth, made of superb oak wood. The two companions got as near as pos- $1,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; 82,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE Bible to the scaffold, in order to lose nothing of the events that were about to take place; and like everybody else, they awaited the spectacle, with the advantage of being mounted on pony back, and of seeing better with less fatigue. There suspense was not of long duration. At a quarter to two the gate of the cha teau was opened; and the condemned man appeared, preceded by the guards of the Seigneur of La Piroche, and followed by the executioner. The thief was clad in the ar mor he had stolen, and was riding back wards on an an ass without a saddle. Ills visor was down and he hung his head. He was led close to the, scaffold, and a picture that must hare be - 6n anything but agreeable to his feelings began to be sketched in upon the azure background. The hangman bad just set his ladder lean ing against the gallows, and the chaplain of the Seigneur of La Piroche, mounted on a platform purposely prepared, was reading the sentence. The condemned man did not stir. You would have said that he had l lased the spectators the scurvy, trick of dying before there was time to hang lihn. They called out to hint to get off his ass, and give himself up to the hangman. llc did not budge an inch. We can un derstand his hesitation. Then the hangman seized him by the el bows, lifted him off the ass' back, and set him down upright on the ground. When we say that he set him down up right, we speak the truth. But we should tell a falsehood in saying that he remained in the same position in which he was depos ited. In two minutes he ran through two thirds of the alphabet—that is to say, in vulgar parlance, instead of remaining straight as an I, lie became crooked as a Z. During the change of attitude, the chap plain had finished reading the Eentnn oe. "Ilave you any request to make?" he in quired of the patient. "Yes," replied the wretched man, in a sorrowful and scarcely audible voice. "What is it?" "I request fly pardon!" I do not know• whether the joke was in vented on that occasion, but then or never was the time to conceive and utter it. The Seigneur of La Piroche shrugged his shoulders, and ordered the hangman to do his office. That official personage prepared to mount the ladder, leaning against the gibbet, which, impassible, with outstretched arm, was about to tear a soul out of a living body, and he tried to make the criminal mount before him; but the thing was not ea , y. It is &carcely credible what an amount of diffi culties condemned Inca in general make. The executioner and his present client appeared to be engaged in a contest of po liteness. The puiut at issue was, who should go first. The hangman, to make him mount the ladder, had recourse to the same means which he had employed to make him get off the ns•; he took bins by the waist, set him on the third stave of the ladder, and then pushed him up behind. "Bravo!" shouted the crowd. There was no help for it, except to mount. Then the executioner adroitly slipped round the patient's neck the running noo,e which ornamented the end of the rope, and, giving him a violent kick in the back, sent him swinging into open space. An immense clamor followed this expect ed denouement, and a shudder ran through out the crowd. Of whatever crime he may be guilty. a dying man is always, for an instant, greater than those who come to see him die. The hanged man swung two or three minutes at the end of his rope. as be had a right to do, kicked, writhed, and then re ulined motionless and stiff. They stared a few minutes longer at the sufferer, whose gilded armor glittered in the sunshine; the spectators gradually formed into groups, and then went their several ways homewards, discoursing on the late event. 1:fl}11 The next morning, at break of day, a couple of guards walked out of the chateau of La Piroche, to take down the body of the criminal, and to strip it of the armor belong ing to their lord ; but they found what they were very far from expecting—namely, that the gallows and the rope still remained in their places, but that the hanged man was nowhere to be seen. The two guards rubbed their eyes, in doubt whether they were dreaming or not: but such was the fact. No body, and, as a natural consequence. no armor. The most extraordinary circumstance was: that the rope was neither broken nor cut, but exactly in the state in which it was be ' fore receiving the criminal. The guards went to announce the news to the Seigneur of La Piroche. lie would not believe them, but insisted on ascertain ing the truth with his own eyes. So pussi ant was this same seigneur, that he felt as sured the body would be found in its place, in obedience to his wishes: but he only saw what others had b een. What had become of the dead man? For the condemned thief was certainly dead the day before, as the whole population had beheld with their eyes. ILO another thief taken advantage of the night to take possession of the armor which covered the body? [WHOLE NUMBER, 1,442. Perhaps so; hut, while taking the armor, he would evidently have left the body; fur which he had no occasion. Had the friends or relations of the sufferer determined to give him a Christian burial? The ease Wa9 far from impossible, except that the sufferer had neither friends nor relations: and people acting under religious motives would have taken the body and left the armor, That supposition, therefore, wns not to be entertained. What, then, were they to sup- pose? The Seigneur of La Piroche was in des pair! Ile was mad about his suit of armor. Ile offered a reward of ten golden crowns to whoever would deliver up the criminal, attired as he was :It the time of his death. They searched the houses; nothing :wam Cound. Nobody came to claim the reward. They sent for a learned man from the city of Rennes, and put this question to him: - How can a loan who is hanged to death contrive to escape from the rope which sus pends him in the air 1•;ii the neck?" The wise man demmAded a week's time to think the matter mer. At the end of the week, he replied: '•11e cannot manage it." Then they put a second question a thief, who did not succeed in a theft during his lifetime, and who hat been condemed to death for thieving—can he thieve after death?" The wise man replied. "Yes." They asked him how that could be man aged. Ile answered that he had not the slightest idea. Ile was the most learned man of the time. They sent him home ngaiu, and were obliged to be content to believe (for those were the days of sorcery) that the thief was MIME@ Then masses were said to exorcise the evil ,pirit, who doubtless intended to avenge himself of the seigneur i%ho had sentenced him to death, and of the peeple who came to see him die. A month was spent in the fruitless search The gallows still remained in its place, humiliated, downcast, and despised. Never had a gibbet committed so disgraceful a breach of confidence. The Seigneur of La Pirocho continued to demand the restitution of his armor from men, angels, and the infernal powers. Nothing came of it. At last he was doubtless on the point of making up his mind to this strange event, and the loss resulting-from it, when one mor ning, on awakening, he heard a great noisc , in the square where the execution had taken place. He was going to inquire what was the matter, when the chaplain entered his cham ber. "Monseigneur," said ,he, "do you know what has happened?" "No, but I will inquire directly." "I can tell you. I" "What is it, then?'' "A miracle!" "Really!" "The man who was hanged"— "Well?" "Is there." "Where?" "On the ,gallon-q," "Hanging?" "Yes, monseigneur." "With his armor?" "With your armor." "Exactly so; because it butane; to me.— And is he dead ?" "Perfectly dead. Only"— "Only what?•• "1 lad lie spurs when lie was hanged?" "No." "Well, monseigneur, he has spurs on now; and instead of wearing the helmet on his head, he carefully laid it at the foot of the gallows, so as to be found banging uncov ered." "Let us go and see Messire Chaplain; let us go and see at once." The Seigneur of La Piroche ran into the square, which was crowded with inquisitive spectators. The neck of the hanged man was replaced in the running noose, the body was really at the end of the rope, and the armor was really on the body. It was prodigious. So they shouted, "A miracle:" "He 111,§ repented," said one, "and has come back to rehang himself." "Ile has 'been there till the time," said another. "only we could not see him." "But why has he put on spurs?" inquired a third "Doubtle s because be has come from a distance. and was anxious to get back quick." "For my part, whether far or near, I , houbl have had no occasion whatever for spurs., because I would have taken good care to remain where I was," And then they laughed, and then they looked at the ugly grimace on the dead man's countenance As for the Seigneur of La Piroche, his only thought was to make sure that the thief was really lead, and to take_repossession of his suit of armor They took down the body and stripped it, and then, when stripped, they hung it up again. and the crows .et to work with such effect that in a couple of days it was strip ped to the hone, inn week it was like a tat terdemalion. in a fortnight it had the ap pearance of nothing at all. Eventually the mystery was explained.— It apparel that our two peasants, returning home by night. and pas.ing close to the gib- Effil
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