chevaliers of the most remote period; but as the months and years. went on, and Minette, no longer gay and tuneful, crept silently about her house, or sat dreaming away her leisure in sad reverie-as she grew cold and silent toward her husband, and shy and conscious in her demeanor to her guest, both men read her heart even more truly than she herself knew it, and both pondered the knowledge deeply and silently. And now the crisis had come. Now Leon-le-Duc lay dying, or so near it, that, if help was delayed but for a day, his case was hopeless; and then-who could blame the comrade who was hastening for assistance, but had the ill fortune to return with it too late? And as the evil thought slowly stamped itself on his mind, Leander-leDoux stopped and wiped the sudden moisture from his forehead, and looked about him, as if even in that solitude some eye must be ready to read the guilty shame upon his brow.

At midday he reached the cabin, and, crossing the little clearing with noiseless feet, looked in at the open door.

Beside the hearth sat Minette, the firelight flickering over the braids of her nut-brown hair, and in the depths of her hazel eyes, as she sat idly staring at the blaze, her work lying forgotten upon her lap. She was very pale, and the dark rings beneath her eyes told of watching and weeping, of broken rest and unquiet heart.

As Leander's shadow fell upon the floor, she started and looked up, a torrent of blood rushing over her face and neck, and a glad light quenching the tears in her great eyes. She rose directly, and came to meet him. "Leander-le-Doux! You here so soon!" exclaimed she, hiding her real delight under an appearance of surprise.

"Yes, Minette."

"A few hours from now will do as well to start for Nolleton, and if Leon-le-Duc is dead when we get back to him, then you will be my wife; he said so himself, and I know that you love me," stammered the poor young man.

But Minette interrupted him :

"And you have planned out all this, Leander-le-Doux! You have left the man that befriended you, and trusted you, and never said a hard word, even when he saw how matters were going betwixt you and me—you have left him out in the wilderness to die all alone, and by inches, while you slunk home to make love to his wife! And you think I'll stop here, kissing and courting with you this afternoon, so that he shall be sure and be dead by the time you reach him with the help he sent you for? Leander-le-Doux, I wish the kiss you took just now had been poison, and blistered your lips! Anyway, it is the last you'll ever get from me."

"It isn't the first, then, nor they haven't all been on one side," said Leander, sullenly.

"That's true, and more's the shame to me that it is true," retorted Minette, coolly. "But now, once for all, I tell you, I never will have another word of love to say to you. You have just showed out what you are, and spoiled your own chance, whatever happens to Leon or me. Now tell me, are you going to Nolleton, or am I? for one of us is, and mighty quick, too!"

"I'm going," muttered Leander, turning toward the door.

"Stop, first, and tell me where you left my man. I'm going to him," commanded Minette; and Leander turned to look wistfully at her.

"I left him just where Stony Creek falls into Jones's Run, beyond the great pine tract; but, Minette, you can't go alone. Get yourself ready, and I'll be back from

"Nothing-Leon-Minette, do not look at me so !" "Speak, then! What has happened to Leon? You have killed him!"

"Minette! do you think of me like that? He is dead, but it was sickness, and not I, that killed him. It was the hand of God."

"Dead! Is Leon-le-Duc dead ?" asked Minette in a low voice, and pressing her hand upon her throbbing temples.

"Dead or dying. He could not live many hours as I saw him last," faltered Leander.

"And you left him dying?"

"He told me to. I came to get help-a doctor, or men to bring him into the settlement."

"Then, why don't you go? What are you staying here for? It is six miles to Nolleton, and no horse to help you over it. Start quick, for God's sake!"

"But, Minette, think a little. He is dying, and he said so himself. He said, too, that I-that you that when he was gone, you could marry me, and he wouldn't grudge us our happiness. Minette, say that you love me, for I know you do."

"And if I do, what then ?" asked the young woman, quickly.

thirty miles from here, if it's a step. Wait for me, that's a good girl; and, Minette, if you could forget, or at least forgive, what I said just now

"There, there, go along, Leander-le-Doux. After Leon is safe we'll talk of forgiving and forgetting."

And Minette, turning away from the handsome, pleading face of the man she had loved so well, began to make preparations for leaving the house. But there was relenting in her voice, and Leander called out:

66

'Good-by, Minette. Be ready when we get back, and-God bless you, girl."

She made no answer, but, as he went, stole softly to the door, and looked after him, until his figure was buried in the forest lying between the cabin and the settlement. Then she turned away with a long sigh, murmuring:

"Good-by, Leander-le-Doux; good-by for good and all. I have been wrong, but I haven't been wicked, and we have got to part while I can say that."

Then she hastily finished her preparations, put up a basket of such simple restoratives as she had at hand, left her house, and closing the door, wrote upon it with a bit of charcoal: "Gone to Leon-le-Duc."

"I've only to follow up the run, and I shall come to him sure," murmured she to herself, striking into the

forest in the direction of the river.

And with no better guide than this for her thirty miles' walk through a desolate wilderness, Minette set forth to seek her husband, perhaps with some idea of expiation for her almost infidelity urging her to the danger and fatigue she so willfully undertook.

At sound of the human voice the wolf drew back a little, although his green, glaring eyeballs and cruel fangs remained clearly visible through the leaves that concealed his gaunt body. Noticing this effect, the sick man raised himself slightly, and shouted twice or thrice with all his strength. Uttering a sullen howl, the wolf drew back for a moment, but presently a stealthy rustling at another point of the thicket told that he was again approaching.

"Have it your own way; I won't try any longer," muttered Leon-le-Duc, desperately, and fell back with closed eyes and clasped hands, trying to remember some words of prayer before he died.

The stealthy rustling increased, and the head of the monster again cautiously emerged from the bushes. Its prey lay motionless before it, and, with a low growl, the wolf crept forward step by step, until his whole lean length stood revealed, and his eagerly-protruded jaws were working and slavering within half a dozen feet of the defenseless man.

Another step, and another, and the fetid breath of the creature played upon his cheek, the click of his gnashing teeth sounded close upon his ear-the moment had come. Some remnant of the respect that even the most savage brute instinctively feels for man alone restrained the creature from his final spring, when Leon-le-Duc, despairing of the prayer, opened his eyes and moaned aloud :

"Minette, darling !-oh, Minette !" "Leon !"

She burst through the bushes in the very track of the wolf, and bounded toward her husband, answering to his call as if it had been a magic summons.

Then she saw the grisly creature who stood over him, and did not fly at her approach, but only snarled and growled defiance at this new foe, which instinct told him was less formidable than the other whom he had already dared.

The woman shrieked, sprang back, hesitated, trembled, and then rushing forward, with the desperate courage of a coward driven to bay, she snatched at the rifle lying at her husband's side, aimed it full at the glaring eyeballs, and fired. With a wild cry of astonishment, rage, terror and pain, the wolf leaped high in air, dropped, spun dizzily round, and fell dead, his quivering limbs touching those of Leon-le-Duc, who, raised upon one elbow, lay staring at the apparition of his wife, as if he must doubt his own eyes, in spite of the proof she had already given of her positive presence.

Flinging down the rifle, Minette rushed upon him, crying, laughing and kissing him all in a breath,

"Oh, Leon! how lucky that I came just that minute! And didn't I shoot him nice, and I always so afraid to fire a gun, though you taught me so carefully? Poor, poor Leon. You are dreadfully sick, dear, aren't you ?" "Why, Minette, how came you here? And where are the men, and Leander-le-Doux ?" asked Leon, all bewilderment.

"They are coming dear. Leander stopped at the shanty and told me, and then went on to Nolleton, and I started right off for you."

could; and then I heard you call my name, and so I rushed through the bushes, and-here I am."

But through all her hurry and demonstrativeness, Leon-le-Duc saw that something was working in his pretty Minette's heart more than she had yet spoken, and taking her hand in his, he said:

"Stop, Minette, and tell me something before we go any further. Had you rather be wife to me or to Leander-le-Duc? Speak the truth, woman!"

"I do. I had rather be yours, if you will forgive me, and love me as you did once, Leon," said Minette, her clear brown eyes full on his.

"I do, child; I do forgive and love you," said Leon, closing his heavy eyes.

When the doctor and the men arrived, a few minutes later, they found him thus-asleep upon Minette's bosom ; and very tenderly and carefully they placed both upon the litter they had brought, and took them home.

Leander-le-Doux walked beside it to the door of the cabin, and then he paused.

"Good-by, friends," said he, briefly; "I'm going West."

And toward the setting sun he turned his steps, and was seen no more for ever in that region.

ITALIAN BANDITS.

BRIGANDAGE seems to be the inalienable heritage of Greece, Italy and Spain-the three downward extremities of Europe and civilization. From piracy having been so rife in the Mediterranean, we might suppose the breezes of that sea to be somewhat overcharged with the spirit of liberty; but we should perhaps be more correct if we concluded that the radiance of southern suns enfeebles and demoralizes human nature.

The lands are spellbound, a sweet languor pervades the air, congenial rather to indolence and pleasure than to healthy and honest industry. The Celtic race, moreover, was never fond of toil, and, if a living must be made, would prefer to obtain it by some wild romantic enterprise than to undergo the drudgery of everyday work.

Add to such considerations that these countries are crossed by chains of mountains, offering natural advantages for concealment, and the existence of brigandage is easily intelligible. But, granting every inclination and facility for lawless adventure, it is necessary to its success that it should possess the sympathy of the population. If the people generally were unwilling to shelter the offenders, crime would be kept within due bounds; but where there is no just indignation against it, life and property will never be secure.

Under such circumstances the violator of the laws assumes an entirely different character from that he bears in a settled country. He is a sort of national representative and champion of liberty; he only robs and murders the rich, and has, perhaps, as many nice points of honor as a professed duellist.

"Yes. I came up the run, you know, and I suppose it took a little longer to go round the bends than if I had come straight through the woods; but then I couldn't do that, because I didn't know the way, and I couldn't wait. Then, when I came near I heard you holler, I suppose at the wolf, and so I set out and ran as fast as I

wood tree. The laws were then arbitrary and distasteful, the people were uncivilized, and young men of good family often took to the road even in that sober Saxon land.

Brigandage has, therefore, various aspects and forms, corresponding to the characters and positions of those who practice it, from the courteous chief to the vulgar

was

footpad. Many of these men, to do them justice, have had great temptations to crime. In Italy, for instance, the laws were, until lately, immoderately severe in their penalties against any who resisted the officers of justice; and sometimes when a young man called out as a conscript on the eve of his marriage, or the aged father of a family was about to be carried off to prison for a small debt, much sympathy would be awakened in the village, and some young men, of more courage than reflection, would offer resistance to the police. From that moment their fate was sealed; nothing remained for them but death or the gallows.

Under these circumstances they had little choice but andare in campagna-to betake themselves to the mountains, where they became bandits (outlaws), and avenged themselves by rendering the neighboring roads unsafe for, travelers.

A Sicilian lady told me lately, to my surprise, that she had never seen a bandit-they kept mostly to a few localities-but she admitted that none of her family ever ventured far from the house without an armed escort. She took that favorable view of brigandage which is held in the island.

"There is nothing extraordinary in it," she said; "the Government keep up a large army; every man has to serve seven years, and, as they dislike soldiering, they run away. They cannot then obtain employment, and

they become bandits. What would you have? They must live. Well, they are not so bad as the Irish." Some of the brigands, and especially some of their chiefs, are, or have been, clever and romantic fellows. They are fond of gay costumes, can sing good songs, and relish good jokes, principally such as are of a practical kind. A Piedmontese gentleman once gave me several instances of their indulging their humorous fancies, of which the following may serve as a specimen :

Two Italian counts (Pietro F and Giuseppe C) had been chamois-hunting in the Alps, some fifty miles from Turin. As is usual on such expeditions, they had lived some days in the mountains, sometimes sleeping in cottages, sometimes under temporary shelter prepared by their guides. In a few days, after enjoying a very satis

factory amount of sport and discomfort, they retraced their steps, and stopped on the way back at a small albergo at the foot of the mountains. Here they paid off the guides, and remained to await their carriage, which was to convey them in the cool of the evening to Turin.

Meanwhile, they ordered dinner, and entered the principal room, which was empty, or at least occupied by only one individual, who was sitting at a small table sipping some wine. His costume resembled that of the peasantry, but was of finer material, and from his superior mien and finely-cut features, the counts supposed him to be some enthusiastic sportsman, who had adopted the country