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SANCUSL •WILIGHT, Editor and Proprietor.
VOLUME XXVII, NUMBEII 28.]
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Muttg.
Loss and Gain.
BP ADELAIDE A. PROCTOR.
Thou halt done well. to 'kneel and say:
Since He who gave can' take stWay•'
And - hid me suffer—l obey. ,
And also well:to tell thy heart
That good lies in the bitterest
And thou wiltpro li t by her. smart.
But bitter hours came to all;
When even truths like these Will pall,
Sick beartstor huinbler cal l.
Then I would have thee strive tosee
That good and evil come to thee
Al one .ot a great finally.
And as material life is planned,
That even' the loneliest one must stand,
Dependent on Ins brother's hand,
So links more Wide and more fide
Bind every, other soul to thine,
In one great brotherhOod divine. ,
Nor with thy share of work b e hexed;'''
Thoughineotnritete, and 'o'ett perltlat, '-
It fits exactly to the ucx.:.
• .
What seems so dark to thy aim sight
May be a shadow, seen origin,
Making some brightness doubly bright
Tho dash that struck thy tree—no more
To shelter then—let Heaven's blue Roar
Shine where lt.never shone before..
Thy life t. at has been dropped aside
Into Time's stream, may stir the tide
In rippled circles spreading wide.
Thy cry wrung from thy spirit's pain
ALLY echo ou some far-ogplain,
And guide a wanderer home again.
Vail—yet rejoice. Because no less
The fsilure that makes thy distress
Ding teach another full success.
It may be that in come great need
Thy life'c poor fragment4hre decreed
To help build up a lofty deed.
Thy heart might throb in vast content,
Thus knowmg that it was but meant
As chord in one great instrunseim
That even the discord tut thy soul
May make tromp later uni.le roil
Front out the great hartnottious whole
It may be. that when ull
Deep act within that dee delight ei
Will be to know why all was right;
To hear life's perfect inu-ic rise,
Ana whilrn flood, lieppy
Thy feeble voice to recognize.
Then strive more gladly to fulfill
riy little part. This darkele's Bull
Is.light to every loving will.
And trust—rts if already plain
How just thy chore of !OAS and pain
- do for another fuller gam.
I dare not limit time or place
Touched by thy,life; noadare I trace
Its far vibrations into space.
Otta only knows.. Yet if the fret
Of thy weak heart, In weak regret,
Needs a. more tender comfort yet,
Then thou marst take thy loneliest fears,
The bitterest drops of all thy tears,
The dreariest hours of all thy years,
And, through thy anguish there 'outspread,
May ask that God's great love would shed
Blessings en one beloved head.
And thus thy soul shall learn to draw
Sweetness from opt that loving law,
That see,' no failure and no Ilaw,
Where an is good. And life is good,
Were the (=lesson understood
Or Its most sacred brotherhood.
gflittirm.
Howthe Duel Began; And How it Ended.
raox TUE RUSSIAN OF rouscuanr
Our reglnient was quartered in a small
and miserably retired place. There was,no
scliotY, no enjoyment, no open house; we
were left to our own resources; nothing re
' inairied but to collect together at - each other's
lodgings; where; eiCept our uniforms, there
was nothing to be' seen:
r 'lheraWaa . .onlY one„person that joined,us
who did not belong loathe army. Ile was a
"man of about thirty-five years, an age'whiCh,
we -felt, fully justified us in considering him
an old man. his years and experience in
duced us to loolt'en him with no, little def
. erenctef'Whfle his . ordinary Anoccisenels,ans!-
.tere manner, and.lbittur sarcasm, vorked a
powerful. itiffidencer on ode' yott ag . minds.
certairt - jitiiferi,"tOo;was miieduP,with his
fate; he appeared to be a Russian,;but :had
- a-foreign name. At one time he had served
in a regiment of hussars, but it was evident
that he did'init regard his term of service,
or sortte'-eireitustancee -connected with it,
'any, degree of ,satisfaction:
'know the reasons which had induced him to
give up ltis-nom - mission, and settle in tech a
.
miserable place as this which hellad chosen.
Here he 4 lived, at the same -thee, wretchedly
and prodigallyilwalwayerwentorifoot, ,, elicl
- in - sin old worn - out overcoat, yet' ke pt an
open s table for all the officers in our regk.
meat. It is true,-his dinners consisted only
of two or three dishes cooked by an old dis
charged soldier; but cuampagne flowed like
water. No one knew his circumstances, or
the source of his income, nor did guy of us
ever venture to question him on the subject.
His library consisted of a number of vol
umes, mostly on military subjects, and nos
, els. - Ile willingly lent them, and never ex
pressed any wish, to have them returned.—
His chief amusement consisted in exercising
with pistols, and the walls of his house bore
sufficient evidence of his partiality for this
exercise, for they were completely covered
with the marks of bullets. The skill to
which he had attained in this his favorite
occupation was incredible, and if he had of
fered to shoot an apple from the cap of any
of us, none would have shrunk from expos
ing his head to his unerring aim.
Our conversation often fell on duelling.—
Silvio (for that was his name) never joined
with us on those occasions. To the question
if ever it had fallen to his lot' to be engaged
in one be would simply answer that it had;
but with that he ended, .he never entered
into any details, and it was evident the sub
ject was diiiWigreeable to him. We supposed
that'thero were on his mind. anapleasant re
collections of some victim of his deadly skill.
With regard to hii courage, it never entered
into our heads to suspect him of, anything
approaching to timidity. There are some
people whose appearance alone forbids our
entertaining such suspicions.
It inippened that one day tempi our offi
cers dined with Silvid; we draniVery deeply
as usual, and after dinner used all - our en
deavours to induce the-host to play a game
at bank. For a long while he refused, for
he very seldom played; at length he gave
way, to our entreaties, .and produced the
cards; he then stressed on the table fifty
ducats, - and Set aown 'to throw. We ar
ranged ourselves around him, and play be-,
gait. While playing, Silvio al ways observed
the most strict silence; he never engaged in
any disputes or explanations. We knew
his peculiarities, and therefore never dis
turbed him in any of his arrangements. Oa
this occasion, it happened that among our
numbers was a young officer who had lately
joined the regiment. While playing he had
unwittingly made . a..felsei calculation; Silvio
took the chalk and squared the account ac
count according.to his own reckoning. The
officer, thinking ho had madea mistake, en
deavored to explain it to him. Silvio, disre
garding the interruption, continued to throw.
The officer, losing his patience, took the
chalk and altered Silvio's account; thinking
it to be an intentional miscalculation. Sil
vio evidently did not approve of the conduct
of the lieutenant, and immediately replaced
the original figures. The officer, boated with
wine, excited by the game, and provoked by
the laughter of his companions, considered
himself violently insulted, and in the height
of his passion, seized a brass candlestick
which was near .him, and hurled it at Silvio
who barely succeeded in escaping the dan
gerous missle. Silvio rose up, his counte
nance grew pale with rage, and with flash
ing eyes he said: "Sir, oblige me by leaving
this place, and thank God this has occurred
in my own, house."
The officer departed, but not before he had
acquainted the host that he was ready at
any time to answer fur the affront he had
given. We did not dbubt the cansequenee
of such an affair, and already looked upon
our companion as a dead man. The play
continued for a short time; but feeling that,
after what had, passed, Silvio could not be
in much humor for play, we dispersed, each
one to his quarters, wirer° 'we occupied our
selves in reflecting on the evening, and on
the changes that would ensure from a va
cancy. The next morning, at the mange
we were already speculating on the proba
bility of our comrade's existence, when be
himself. tippeared among us; we were all
eager to know by what lucky stroke of for
tune he had escaped. To our, ,questions ,ho
answered that ho had not, as yet, received
any communication from Silvio: This very
much astonished us. We went to him soon
after, and found him in the yard, sending
ball after baU into a card which he had
nailed to the groat doors at -the entrance of
the yard. Ile received us in his usual man
ner, but did ,not.mention a word-of the oc
currence of the proceeding evening. Three
days passed by, and the lieutenant was still
alive. We asked one another with aston
ishment: is it possible that Silvio will not
fight? Silvio did not fight; ho contented
himself with a slight explanation, and made
friends.
51 30
The termination of this quarrel produced
an immense effect on our yotihg
The want of courage is excused by, young
people less than the lack of any other of
these qualities which excite theiradmiration;
for courage they consider the most worthy
of human virtue's, and even a ,Aralliation, for
nll possible failings. However, by degrees,
the wholn'tiffilr; was allowed to pass by;'atid
Silvio once more acquired hie former as
cenda nay.
For my own :part, I could no longer Ap
proach him with 'the same feelings of cohh,-
deuce and :pleasure with which T holti
bith
erta done. Naturally of a romantic ,dispe
sition, I, at Stet, felt an irresistible inclina
tion towards'thil man, whose life was sash
a riddle, and whom I believed to be the
hero of sOmetrecret and tragical tale. Ile
liked tne,lat leiet I thought se, for :I alone
was free fron s tthe attacks of his iiiiver4ll-
ips sareasin,And he often Aoniireed with
me on vatiotrivltubjects with great fresdlin
and extraordinary gaiety. But lifter' that
"NO ENTERTATNNENTIS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING."
COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 8, 1862.
unfortunate evening, the idea that his honor
had been compromised, and that he had
taken no steps to retrieve it, I could not
shako off, and it prevented me from behav
ing towards him as I bad formerly done.—
Silvio was too keen and experienced not to
observe the change in my behavior, and also
to guess the cause. of it; and it evidently
vexed and pained him.
The inhabitants of tho capital and the
other great cities have no idea of the many
trifling circumstances which produce an in
credible influence on the minds of those
far removed from the more civilized world,
as, for instance, the anxiety and excitement
attendant on post days. On Tuesdays and
Fridays our office was filled with officers,
some expecting letters, some money, others
newspapers. The fortunate recipient of a
packet of these last generally opened it on
the spot, and communicated the principal
news to an eager audience. The office at
such times presented a picture of the most
enlivening and exciting character. Silvio
was generally found among us, for he re
ceived his letters through our regiment.—
One day ho received a packet, with the great
est impatience he tore it open; his eyes
beamed with delight as he began to run
over its contents. All the officers, being
engaged in devouring the contents of their
respective letters, did not observe the influ
ence which Silvio's correspondence had pro
duced on him. le was not long before he
drew our attention by suddenly exclaiming:
"Sirs, circumstances have, rendered my
speedy departure necessary. I set off to
night; consequently, I hope you will not re
"fuse-to dine with -ma for the list time. I
shall expect you without fail," said he turn
ing to me. With these words, he hastily
retired, and we, having all agreed to meet
at his house, returned to our several duties.
, I ariived at Silvio's at the appointed hour,
and found almost the whole regiment as
sembled. Ho had already packed up all
valuables; these remained scarcely anything
but the bare perforated walls. We sat down
to the table. The host was in extraordinary
spirits, and his good humor soon extended
itself to all his goosts. The corks were fly
ing constantly, the glasses were frothing and
hissing inceSsantly. We drank to his suc
cess times out of number, and showered over
him our good wishes.
It was late in the evening when we rose
from the table. When Silvio had taken
leave of sill, and we were preparing to de
part, he took me by the hand and led me
aside, and said quietly: "I wish to speak to
you."
The guests left, and we remained alone.—
We sat opposite each other, and for a long
time smoked our pipes in silence. Silvio
was much embarrassed; already all traces of
his; convulsive merriment had disappeared.
A deadly paleness, glistening eyes, and the
thick clouds ofsmuke issuing from his mouth,
gave hint the appearance of a perfect fiend.
At last Silvio interrupted the silence. "Per
haps," ho said, "we shall never see each
other again. Before we separate, I wished
to unburthen myself oh a subject of which
the particulars are well known to you. You
have no doubt observed that I care very lit
tle for the opinion of others; but you I love
and respect; and it would be very painful to
me to leave on your mind any wrong im
pressions as to my conduct on the occasion,
to the particulars of which I have just re
ferred."
lle stopped, and began to fill his pipe,
which had gone out. Meanwhile, 1 sat per
fectly silent; with my oyes cast on the
ground.
"It seemed strange," he continued, "that
did, not demand satisfaction from that
drunken, insolent lieutenant, Bodolf. You
agree that, having by right the choice of
weapons, his life was in my hands, while I
was comparatively free from danger. 1
could ascribe my moderation to generosity,
but I do not wish to deceive you. If I
could have punished him without exposing
myself to the slightest injury, I would not,
on any consideration, have allowed the mat
ter to pass by so easily."
I looked at Silvio with astonishment.—
Such a confession utterly confounded me.—
Ide continued: "I really mean what I have
said. Indeed, I should not be justified in
exposing ''my life.' to any danger, for, six
years ago, ,I received an insult, and my
enemy is still alive."
My curiosity was excited to the utmost.
"Then you did not fight with him?" inquir
ed I. "Circumstances must have prevented
you?"
"I did fight with him; and here is some
thing which will be witness of the affair,"
he answered.
Silvio rose, opened a small box, and took
from it a red•cap. It was ornamented with
a tassel made of gold fringe, and trimmed
with galloon. Ile put it on, and I observed
that it had been shot through at about an
inch and a half from the forehead.
"You know," he said, "that I served in
the Hussars; you know also'my char
acter. •In whatever society I have ever been
thrown I have always iron' the ge
nies. From my youth sip, it has alWays been
my ruling s ' passion to be - pre-cininent. Io
my younger days, extravagance of conduct
was in vogue; irregnlariti_ and wildness of
behavior was the rule; Ma in this I was
second to none in the army. We Wasted of
drunkenness. I drank deeper than Bacchus
himself. Duels were. constantly taking
place in our regiment, and on every occasion
I acted either as second or principal. My
companimits :idolized me, and Although my
proceedings were not openly countenanced
by the commanders, I was looked on as a
necessary evil.
'•I was revelling, with a feeling of undis
puted security, in the enjoyment of my ac
quired reputation, when a young man of
very rich and celebrated family was ap
pointed to a vacancy in the regiment.—
Never before or since have I met with such
a brilliant, prodigy of fortune. Imagine to
yourself a young man in the flower of youth,
intelligent, possessing a most handsome ex
terior, unbounded gaiety, courage the most
daring, a high-sounding name, and riches of
which ho himself did nO know the extant,
and you may form some idea of the feelings
with which I regarded a rival who possess
ed such preponderating advantages. It was
not long before I began to feel that my fan
cied security was only a. delusion; my pop
ularity began to decline. Influenced by the
high opinion entertained of me, the new ar
rival at first sought to cultivate my acquilin
tance; but as I received him coldly, he had,
without any apparent regret, left me to my
self. I thoroughly bated him; his success
in the regiment, and especially in the so
ciety of the ladies, drove me to desperation.
I endeavored to find a quarrel with him. I
wrote epigrams: to these he replied with
epigrams which always appeared to me
more unexpected and much sharper than
my own, and which were certainly incom
parably livelier. Ho jested; I retorted with
an irritation which I amid not control.
"At last, we both happened to bo at a ball
given by a Polish gentleman. Here I saw
him the centre of attraction of the whole of
the ladies, and, above all, I saw the hostess
assiduous in her attentions towards him:
all seemed to render him homage; all atten-,
tion seemed directed to him alone. A corn-
parison of my present position with what it
had been not long ago was sufficient. My
resolution was taken; and meeting with him
afterwards in a side-room, I whispered into
his ear some meditated insult. He flew into
a rage, and struck me a blow in the face;
we drew our swords; then followed a scene
of confusion; the ladies fainted, the gentle
men separated us, and we hastened that
very night to settle the dispute in a more
satisfactory manner.
"It was nt day-break that I arrived at the
appointed spot, with my three seconds.—
With the utmost impatience, I awaited the
appearance of my opponent. The sun was
risen, and was already getting hot, when I,
saw him in the distance. He was coming
on foot, n ccompanied by one assistant. We
hastened to meet him, and as we approach
ed, I saw that his cap, which he held in his
hand, was filled with cherries. The seconds
measured twelve paces. It was my place to
fire first; but I was so agitated with the de
sire• of revenge that I felt there was no de
pendence on the accuracy of my RIM; so in
order to gain time enough to cool ray fevered
brain, I proposed that he should take the
first shot; to this ho would not agree; we
were therefore obliged to cast lots. Ile, the
ever-fortunate, drew the lucky number. We
resumed our places; he took Isis aim, fired,
and sent the bullet through my cap. It
was now my turn:. his life was nt last in my
hands. I gloated over my victim with a
fiendish delight, and eagerly looked at him,
endeavoring to catch if only a shadow of
agitation; but there ho stood, stoically in
different, helping himself to the ripe cher
ries which he hnd brought with him, and
spitting the stones from his mouth with such
force that several of them reached the place
where I was standing.
"His equanimity perplexed and enraged
me. Of what use is it, thought I, to try to
punish a man who dues not care a pin wheth
er he is dead or alive? I reflected a moment,
and lowering my pistol, said; 'lt appears
that you are very unconcerned about death
just now; perhaps you would like to take
breakfast first; if so, I have not the slight
est wish to disturb you.'
"'You do not disturb me in the least,'
said he. 'Fire, if you please; and if you
do not wish to fire now you can reserve it
for any future occasion. I shall hold my
self at any time at your service.'
"I turned to my seconds, explained to
them the uselessness of revenging myself on
an individual so indifferent to life as lay op
ponent, and with that the duel ended.
"I left the service and then found my
way to this place. From the time I came
here, not a day has passed in which I have
not thought of vengeance; and now my hour
has cattle."
Silvio took from his pocket the letter
which he had received in the morning, and
gave it to me to read. Some one—it Up
pentad to be an agent of his—had written
from Moscow to inform him that a certain
person whom he knew was soon about to
marry a young and beautiful lady.
"You guess," Bali Silvio, "who that cer
tain person is who is about r to marry. lam
going to Moscow; and we shall see whether
he will regard death with such indifference,
on the eve of his wedding day, as ho did on
former occasion, when feasting on those
cherries."
With' those words Silvio rose,, flung his
cap on the floor,. and began to pace the floor
backwirds and for otards like a ' tiger in his
cage. During the time he had been speak
ing I eat quite motionless, while strange and
conflicting emotions violently agitated me.
The servant entered, and announced that
the horses were ready. Silvio very warmly
pressed my hand, and we tookleave of one
another very .affectionately. Ile jumped
into the teiega—a. small 'Green without
wheels—in which were deposited two boxes,
one contaning his whole collection of pis
tols, and the other all his moveables. We
bade adieu once more, and he was soon far
away on his long journey.
A few years had passed away, when do-
mestic circumstances compelled me to settle
in a miserable country residence in the dis
trict of Dolova. This kind of life was not
at all suited to my tastes; and rhile initia
ting myself in my new duties, I cast many
a lingering look on my former boisterous
and careless life; but tho most difficult task
of all was to accustom myself to spend the
long winter evenings in complete solitude.
I generally managed, in some way or other,
to employ myself until my dinner-hour. I
chatted with the old people who lived near
me; I rode about, inspecting new works
which had been set on foot; but, with the
daylight, those resources failed me; nothing
remained for me but to sit idle for the re
mainder of the evening. A. small number
of books, which I found in a cupboard and
in the storehouse, I read so many times,
that at last I knew them pretty well by
heart. When these sources of intellectual
enjoyment were exhausted, I had recourse
to the services of my housekeeper, who re
lated to me all the tales she could remem
ber. Although well stocked, she could not
last forever; when she did fail, my weari
ness and vexation became so insupportable,
that I resolved to drown my cares in the
less innocent bottle. This only increased
my wretchedness, by adding to it the weight
of bodily suffering. I confess, also, that I
was afraid of becoming an habitual drunk
ard, of which I saw many deplorable in
stances in our district.
About three miles from me was a fine es
tate belonging to the Countess B—: but
the beautiful mansion on it was occupied
only by a steward. The Countess had only
visited it on one occasion, and that was with
her husband, directly after their marriages
and then had only remained a month. How
ever, in the second spring after I had taken
up my residence in my solitary abode, a re
port became current that the Countess with
her husband intended to pass the summer
there; and in the beginning of June, the re
port was verified by their appearance.
The arrival of a rich neighbor is an epoch
of great importance to people who live in
the country.'-,lt is the talk of• the neigh
borhood for some months beforehand, and
it furnishes the principal topic of conversa
tion for at least three years after. .1 longed
with the greatest impatience to see them,
and, on the first Sunday after their arrival,
I set out immediately after dinner, to pity
my best respects to their excellencies, as
tncir nearest neighbor and most obedient
servant.
The servant showed me to the Count's
cabinet, and went to announce my arrival.
The immense cabinet was fitted up most
sumptuously; around the walls stood cup
boards filled with books, and on each cup
board was it bronze bust; on the marble
mantlepiece was a splendid mirror; the floor
was covered with green cloth, and on the
cloth were placed several small rich carpets.
Living as I had for so long a time in such
an insignificant dwelling, I was quite un
prepared for such a sudden change. I be
gan to feel very ill at ease, and awaited the
appearance of the Count with just as much
diffidence as a country solicitor would the
arrival of a great man of state. The door
opened, and the Count, a fine, handsome
man of about thirty-two years of age, en
tered. HO approached me with a look full
of candor and affability. I began to take
courage, and was beginning to recommend
myself, when the Count interrupted me,
and prevented any further apologies. We.
sat down, and I found his conversation so
free and perfectly unconstrained, that in a
a short time I conquered my uneasiness, and
had just recovered my ordinary self-posses
sion, when the Countess entered, and all
my embarrasment returned whip/renewed
force. The Count perceived the state of
my feelings, and in order to give me time to
recover myself, began to speak to his wife,
thus treating me as though he wished to lay
aside all ceremony, and regard me as a re
spected neighbor. In the meantime, I moved
about hero and there, examining the books
and pictures. I an no connoisseur of pie,
tures, but ono attracted my attention; - it
represented a scene in Switzerland. I was
not struck with beauty of the scene, or with
the skill of the painter, but my attention
was riveted by seeing the marks of two balls
which had been shot through it, the mark
of one ball very nearly corresponding with
the mark of the other. "This is a good
shot," said I, turning to the Count.
"Yes," he answered, "that is a celebrated
shot. Do you shoot well?"
"Pretty well," I answered, delighted that
the conversation had fallen on a subject
with which I felt perfectly at home. "At
thirty paces from a card, I will not miss,
provided I have a trustworthy weapon."
"Really," said the Countess, with a look
of great attention. "And you," said she,
turning to the Count, "could not you shoot
with equal accuracy at thirty paces?"
"Some day
.we will try," he replied.—
"lon ago, I did not shoot badly; but four
years' have passed since I took a pistol in
my hand."
"Oh, if that be the case," I observed, "I
will. lay your excellency a wager that yon
will not hit a card even at twenty paces, for
the pistol requires daily practice. This I
knew from experience, for I was reckoned
one of the bostethots .in our regiment, and
$1,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE
on one occasion I bad not fired for a month,
as my pistols were undergoing repairs.—
What do you think was the consequence?
The first time I tried, I missed a bottle at
twenty-five paces, four times running. No,
your excellency, to attain to perfection in
the use of the pistol, one must not neglect to
practice. The best shot whom it has ever
been my lot to meet practiced every day at
least three times before dinner. His prac
tice seemed as natural to him as the gloss
of wodky which he drank to sharpen his
appetite."
Tho Count and Countess were pleased
that I had al last got in a humor far talking.
"And at what did lie fire?" inquired the
Count.
"I will tell your excellency. Whenever
he hapFened to se a fly on the wall—you
may laugh, Countess, but I can assure you
it is true—whenever he saw a fly on the
wall, lie called out: 'Couzea, my pistol!'
Couzea always brought him a loaded one.
lie took his aim—bang! end the remains of
the fly found a resting place in the wall."
"That is extraordinary," said the Cuunt.
"And what was the name of this prodigy."
"Silvio, your excellency."
"Silvio!" shrieked the Count, jumping
out of his seat. "Is it possible that you
know Silvio?"
"And how should I not know him, your
excellency? Wo wore all on terms of in
timacy with him: in our regiment he was
treated as a brother officer, but for five years
I have had no intelligence of him. From
your manner, I suppose your excellency
also knows him?"
"I know bira very well. Did he never
mention anything of a very strange occur
rence?"
"Do you refer to an insult ho received
from some hair-brained young-officer?"
"I do. But did ho mention to you the
name of that hair-brained young officer?"
"Ile did not, your excellency. Ohl" I
continued, as the truth began to dawn upon
me, "pray excuse me —I had not the
slightest idea—ls it possible that you are
the person?"
"I urn the very person," said the Count,
with a look of great embarrassment; "and
that picture, which has excited your curi
osity, bears witness to our last meeting."
"Oh my dear," interrupted:the Countess,
"do not on any account enter into the details
of the affair. It would be very dreadful for
me to be obliged to listen 'to the particulars
of that distressing event."
"It cannot be helped," replied the Count.
"I shall relate the whole occurrence: he
knows hoe- I offended his friend; now let
him know how be revenged himself."
The Count drew his chair towards me,
and with the most excited curiosity I heard
the following account:
"About five years ngn, I married. The
honey-moon I spent here, on this estate. In
this house I have passed some of the hap
piest moments of my life; but it has been
also the scene of an event of the most pain
ful remembrance. One evening we went
for a ride on horseback; the horse on which
my wife rode became restive, and she, being
alarmed, gave me the reins, and having dis
mounted walked home alone. On reaching
the yard, I saw a traveling telega. My ser
vant informed me that there was a man in
my cabinet who wished to see me, he re
fused to give his name, saying simply that
he had some business of importance of trans
act With me. I hastened to the room, and
saw in the gloomy tight a man covered with
dust whose outward appearance gave evi
dent tokens of carelessness and neglect.—
Ile stood here, by the chimney-piece. I
went up to him, and endeavored to recog
nize him. 'You do not know me, Count?'
said ho with trembling voice, which I well
remembered. I was struck motionless, and
my hair seemed to stand on end. With an
effort, I exclaimed, 'Silvio!' lam Silvio,'
he replied. 'I am come to settle an account
which has long been standing between us.
Are you ready?' I measured twelve paces,
placed myself at that corner, and begged
him to fire quickly, before my wife returned.
lle lingered, and, after some he,itation,
asked me for a light. I procured him a
candle, and shut the doors again, after or
dering that no one should disturb us. I
once more begged him to fire. lie took out
his pistol, and aimed it. I counted the see
onds—l thought of her-0 the terrible ag
ony of those moments! Silvio dropped his
hand. 'I am sorry,' he said, •that my pis
tol is not loaded with cherry stones, you
will find this bullet very hard. But it ap
pears to me that this is not a duel, but a
mere assassination. Where is your pistol?
I am not accustomed to fight an opponent
who is unarmed. Let us begin from the'
beginning; ice will cast lots for the first
shut.' I was giddy with excitement, and at
first refused; but dreading to prolong the
harrowing scone, i at last loaded another
pistol, tore off two bits of paper, and threw
them into his cap, which I remember having
shot through on n previous occasion. On
drawing, I found that I had again the first
number. 'Yon are still as lucky as ever,
Count,' observed Silvio with a smile, which
I shall never forget. My excitement was so
great, that I know not how I did it, bet I
fired, and hit that picture" The Count
pointed to the picture in question, his face
burning with excitement caused by the re
cital of this most momentous circumstance.
The Countess was paler than the white
handkerchief which she was holding in her
band, and I could not refrain from giving
vent to my feelings of astonishment.
[WHOLE NUMBER 1,64 g.
"I fired," continued the Count, "and,
thank God, I missed.. Silvio was taking his
aim, when, on a sudden, the door opened,
my wife rushed in, and with a shriek fell
on my neck. With her presence, all my
former courage returned. 'My dear,' I said.
'do you not see that we are only jesting.—
Why aro you so alarmed? Go drink a lit
tle Ovate:; calm yourself, and return, and
then I will introduce you to this gentleman,
who is an old friend and companion of mine.'
My wife scarcely credited all this, and turn
ing to Silvio, whose stern and rigid counte
nance was not calculated to produce a very
favorable impression, sho said: 'Tell me,
is it really true that you are only joking?'
'lle always jukes, Countess,' answered Sil
vio. 'On one occasion, he gave me a blow
on the cheek—a juke; in another joke ho
sent a bullet through this cap which I wear;
and in a joke he has just now fired at me
and missed; and now it is my turn to joke.'
With this, he was about to take his aim,
when my wife threw herself at his feet.---
Masha; disgraceful, disgraceful!' .- I
roared, in the madness of my rage. 'And
you, sir, cease your trifling with the feel
ings of this afflicted and terrified woman.—
Will you fire or not?' I will not,' an
swered Silvio. 'I am satisfied; for now I
have seen your agitation, your dread of ray
presence, and your lack of courage. This
is enough.' With that he turned, and was
going out; but stopped in the doorway, ho
cast his eye on the picture through which I
had shot, and.almost without taking an•aim,
be put a bullet through the same bale I had
made just before. lie immediately disup
peered. My wife lay in a swoon; the peo
ple of the house were filled with horror, and
none dared to interrupt his retreat. lie
went out on the steps, called for his driver
and was on his journey before I had sot
seeded in recovering my senses."
Thus I heard the end of a story, the tr . -
ginning of which had so moved Ines on'a
former occasion. With the hero I never
metafterwards; but I have heard that, tw
ins the rebellion of Alexander Ipsilanti, he
re entered the army, held the command of a
detachment, and was killed in a battle near
Scoolani.
The Baron's Beer.
In the little Dutch town of Braschal,-Ba
den, they have lately enjoyed a -first-class
"sensation," arrising from the triad of the
pretty Baroness Baumbache, who was ac
cused of attempting to steal away the phleg
matic life of the fat little barren, her hus
band. Singular to relate, he intended Tic
tim was not at all her accuserin fact, he
was the lending witness in her behalf: * The
person preferring the awful charge was 0110
of her household servants, named John
Fritsch, who told his story in a vaguely
spiteful manner. According to the narra
tive of this • horrified individual, he found.
about the first of May, at the bottom of the
beer can from which the baron took his
daily "nip," two small lumps of some sub
stance, of a bluish yellow color. le bad
dreadful suspicions that they wore poison,
and confided as much to Amelia Leist,
another servant, who shared fondly ia , his
horror. The pair took no steps in the mat
ter, however, until the 20th of the month,
when they submitted the lumps of supposed
poison to Dr. Benchezzer, a chemist of the
village. The doctor pronounced the sub
stance to be phosphorus, when his visitors
informed him that they had found it in the
baron's beer just after her grace, the -ba
roness, bad sweetened it with sugar. !badly
knowing to think of their story; the doctor
advised them to communicate with their
family physician or pastor on the suljedt.
To the physician the man went with the tale,
and the physician carried it to the police; so
that one bright spring day, the pretty ba
roness had a couple of gees d'annes among
her morning callers, and was firmly but
courteously escorted to the presence of a
magistrate. Oa being informed of the charge
against her, she displayed not the least dis
composure, but denied its truth with quiet
dignity, at the same time desiring that the
baron should be informed of her arrest.—
This last request was promptly complied
with, and very soon the illustrious Baum
beetle was in the court-room protesting his
wife's innocence with divers three-cornered
Dutch oaths, and overwhelming the virtuous
John Fritch with savage epithets. As nut
even the protestations of the intended victim.
however, were sufficient to clear his wife of
the heinous charge of seasoning his lager
with phosphorus, the baroness was arraign
ed at the bar, and the trial proceeded. The
maid-servant, Amelia Leist, deposed that it
was her business, as a general thing, to
sweeten the baron's beer with pounded su
gar candy, and warm the decoction over the
fire. Just as it had commenced to boil on
the day in question, the baroness 'entered
the room and shook it up, but was not seen
to put anything into it. After she had left
the room, however, the witness and - John
Fritsch discovered that the beer tasted (?)
strangely. The baroness took a hearty swig
of the mixture when it was ready, as well
as the baron, and it was after both -had
drank that John Fritsch discovered thaphps
phorus in the bottom of the can, and told
witness about it. The same evening, Serena
pieces of toast spread with phosphorus were
found on the floor; but as they hist been so
prepared and placed by order of the .baron
himself, to kill the rats, of course that feet
went for nothing.
The baron being called upon to 'testify,
most idignantly repelled the idea that his
wife had intended or ever wished to poison
him, and indulged in the most touching de
piction of the unmitigated bliss of his 'hur
ried life. Being rather hard up fur the
time being, the baroness had given a number
of the servants notice that she could no
longt.r pay their wages, and uudoubtedty
this accusation of John and Amelia was
made by way of revenge. To substantiate
the principle of their charge, the steeneers
proved that the baron and baroness. had oc
casional "spats," and that the baron r. heal
made his lady murderously jealous 14:og
ling another pretty wuman. The 'latter
story was strenuously denied by the noble
pair. Their counsel and the publicepreseee
tor having addressed the jury, the latter de
liberated for five minutes and then unani
mously acquitted the prisoner. The verdlit
was received with loud applause: and the
baron testified his delight by warmllrean
bracing his wife in the presence .ofjudge
and jury. The scene is said to Lae° been
very affecting: We should "