Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

184

THE CONSCRIPT AND HIS DOG.

an inch long, which she carefully sheltered from the wind in a pocket lantern. The light had scarcely glimmered on the ground, when the pavement yawned, close by the feet of the two females. "Now, Zuleima, my child, the only care of my life!" said Fatima, "were you strong enough to draw me out of the vault where our treasure lies, I would not entreat you to hasten down by these small perpendicular steps, which you here see. Fear not, my love! there is nothing below but the gold and jewels deposited by my father," "Mother," answered the tremulous girl, "1 will not break the promise I have made you, though I feel as if my breathing would stop the moment I entered that horrible vault! Dear mother, tie the rope round my waist-my hands wants strength-you must support the whole weight of my body. Merciful Allah! my foot slips! Oh, mother, leave me not in the dark!"

The vault was much deeper than the girl's 1 ength and, upon slipping from one of the projecting stones, the clink of coins scattered by her feet restored the falling courage of the mother.--There, take the basket, child---quick! fill it up with gold---feel for the jewels. I must not move the lantern. Well done, my love! Another basket full, and no more. I would not expose you, my only child, for---yet the candle is long enough fear not, it will burn five minutes. Heavens! the wick begins to float in the melted wax: out, Zuleima!---the rope, the rope!--the steps are on this side?"

A faint groan was heard---Zuleima had dropped in a swoon over the remaining gold. At this moment all was dark again: the distracted mother scratched for the chasm; but it was closed.--

THE CONSCRIPT AND HIS DOG.

The sergeant and the priest advanced; the two friends embraced and kissed each other.-Reaumer retired to a spot where the other soldier was standing; and, kneeling on the knee, leant his face on his hands, still convulsively and unconsciously grasping the spade, as if for a support: the other twelve men had formed a double line, about fourteen paces to the front Jean, who was between them and the embankment, his white clothed figure thus set in relief by the dark ground beyond, presenting a clear aim to their muskets. He knelt down on his right knee, resting on the other his left arm: he said in a firm voice-'I am ready.' The priest was about to bind a handkerchief about his eyes; but he said, 'No-I pray I may be spared that:-let me see my death; I am not afraid of it.' The priest, after consulting with the sergeant's looks, withdrew the handkerchief. Colon retired to the place where Reaumer and the other soldier were; and the priest, after having received froin his penitent the assurance that he died 'in charity with all mankind, and having bestowed on him a last benediction, and laid on his lips the kiss of Christian love, also retired on one side. Colon gave the word of command-'Prepare:'-the twelve muskets were brought forward:-'Present:'-they were levelled. The sergeant was raising his cane as the last signal, to spare the victim even the short pang of hearing the fatal word 'Fire!' when Rolla, with a loud yell, sprang to his master's side. He had been startled from his slumber by the roll of the drum; and, looking up at what was going on, perceiving Jean left kneeling all alone, and all so silent, except Reaumer's faintly heard sobs, his instinct seemed

She beat the ground with her feet; and her agony to tell him his master was in some danger; his

became downright madness, on hearing the hol- whining was unheard, or unheeded; he felt this low sound returned from below. She now struck too, and ceased it, but made a desperate effort the flints of the pavement till her hands were to break the rope that held him, which, weakshapeless with wounds. Lying on the ground a ened as it was by his late gnawing and tugging short time, and having for a moment recovered at it when in the out house at Charolle, soon the power of conscious suffering, she heard her gave way, and, as above mentioned, he sprang daughter repeat the words, "Mother dear moth- with a yell to his master's side. But Jean's er, leave me not in the dark." The thick vault thoughts at that moment were too seriously enthrough which the words were heard, gave the gaged to heed even Rolla: he only raised his voice a heart freezing, thin, distant, yet silver right arm, and gently put the dog aside, his own tone. Fatima lay one instant as on the flints, mild unflinching gaze still fixed on the soldiers then raising herself upon her knees, dashed her before him. But the dog was not checked by head, with something like supernatural strength, the movement of his master; still whining, and against the stones. There she was found lifeless with his ears beseechingly laid back, he strugin the morning. gled hard to get nearer to him.-Colon felt for Jean's situation, and made a sign to Reaumer (who, wondering at the pause since the last word of command, had raised his eyes,) that he should try to coax the dog off. He did so by whistling and calling, but, of course, quite in vain. It will be at once seen that, though this has taken some time in telling, all that passed from the time of Rolla's arrival was little more than the transaction of a moment. Still it was a delay, and the men were ready to fire; and Colon, not thinking the incident of sufficient weight to authorise a suspension of the exесиtion, however temporary, muttered, 'Great pity -the poor fellow will die too'-he turned his face again to his men; and was again about to give the signal, when he was a second time interrupted by hearing loud shouts from behind

The tradition of this catastrophe led to report that the house was haunted; and it is still affirmed, that annually, in a certain night in December, Fatima, is seen between two black figures, who, in spite of her violent struggles to avoid the place where her daughter was buried alive, forced her to sit over the vault, with a basket full of gold at her feet. The efforts by which she now and then attempts to stop her ears, indicate that for an hour she is compelled to hear the unfortunate Zuleima crying, 'Mother, dear mother, leave me not in the dark!'

LOVE-Seizes on us suddenly, without giving us time to reflect: our disposition or our weakness favors the surprise: one look, one glance from the fair, fixes and determines us.

THE CONSCRPT AND HIS DOG-EXTRACTS.

185

him, accompanied by the discharge of a park of whimpered imploringly up to him-Jean looked cannon. He glanced towards the opposite hill for a moment in the emperor's face, but his gaze at his back, whereon the village stood, and there he saw all was confusion and bustle-officers galloping to and fro, and the men forming hurriedly into a line, he hastily gave the word, 'As you were;' for along a line of road to the north east of the hill he saw a thick cloud of dust, from which quickly plunged out a group of horsemen, evidently officers; the foremost not so tall as most of them, nor so graceful a rider as many of them, tho' he sat firmly too, was recognized by Colon and his men (long before he was near enough for them to distinguish a single feature of his face, by his grey frock coat, and small flat three cornered cocked hat.) Colon gave the word of command, the soldiers shouldered their muskets, and prepared to salute; and in another minute, Napoleon, at the head of his staff, reined up on the top of the hill. He had left the march of the grand army some leagues behind, and ridden on towards Labarre, in order, with his wonted watchfulness, to take the detachment by surprise, and see what they were about. His eagle-eye, whose glance saw every thing like another's gaze, had at once detected the party on the hill, and he had ridden from the road at full speed up the slope to discover what the object of the meeting was: a glance, too, told him that; and while he was yet returning the salute of the men and their sergeant, he said, in a voice panting after his hard gallop, 'Hey, what's this?-a desertion?' 'Yes, sire-no sire; not exexactly,' stammered Colon. 'Not exactly! what then?" asked Napoleon, in a rather peevish tone, his face assuming more than its usual sternness; for hardly any thing more provoked him than hesitation on the part of those he addressed. 'Absence against orders, sire,' replied Colon. Aha! for how long? Is that his dog?' 'Yes, sire: only a few hours. A few hours! who gave this order then?" 'General S, sire. What character does the man bear?' 'He is a brave man, sire. 'He is a Frenchman,' retorted Napoleon, proudly; 'but is he honest, and sober, and generally obedient?" 'Yes, sire, this is his first fault.' "M! how long has he served?'-'Three years last March, sire.'

A louder and higher toned 'M! escaped Napoleon; and his attention was at the same moment attracted by Reaumer, who, with a timid step, had approached the emperor, and kneeling on one knee, with clasped hands and broken voice, cried, 'Oh! sire, if you if you would spare his life-he is innocent of any intention to desert -that I can-' 'Are you his brother?' interrupted the emperor. 'No, sire,' answered Reaumer; 'his friend-his dear friend'-'And how know you what his intentions were?'-'He told them me, sire; he only went last night to see his friends, and would have returned the same night, but that I-I advised him to meet the regiment at Labarre; and I know-' 'And what business hadst thou to advise a comrade in a breach of duty? Stand back to thy place.' And Reau

mer

retired, covered with shame shame.-Napoleon beckoned Jean to him; he came, and Rolla with him; and the latter, as tho' understanding the power and authority of the man his master thus obeyed, put his forepaws against his stirrup, and

drooped, though without quailing, beneath that
of the piercing large gray eyes that were fixed
upon him. After a short pause, Napoleon asked,
'Thine age? Lie down-down good dog!' for
Rolla was getting importunate. 'Twenty-five
years, sire, Jean answered. 'Why hast thou
disobeyed orders?' 'I could not help it, sire.'
'Couldn't help it! How dost thou mean?' 'I
was so near my friends, and so longed to see
them, that indeed I could not help it, sire.' "Tis
a strange excuse. Down! I say, good brute!'
but at the same moment that he said so, he un-
gloved his hand, and gave it Rolla to lick: then,
after a short pause added, 'And thou sawest thy
parents?' 'Yes, sire, and I was returning to the
regiment, when-"Ah! this is true, sergeant?'
turning to Colon. 'Yes, sire, 'tis true,' answered
he; 'we met him about three quarters of a league
from-, I need not have asked, though, inter-
rupted Napoleon; 'the man's face looked true.
Thy name?' again addressing Jean. Jean Ga-
vard, sire. Down, Rolla! I fear he is trouble-
some to your highness.' Napoleon smiled-per-
haps at the title---and answered, 'No, no; poor
Rolla, he is a fine dog. dog. I shall inquire into this
affair, Gavard; for the present I respite thee.'
Jean knelt on his knee, and seized the empe-
ror's hand to kiss it; but Napoleon said, 'Stay,
stay; the dog has been licking it.' But this
made no difference to poor Jean, who kissed it
eagerly; and when Napoleon drew it away, it
was wet with tears. He looked on the back of
his hand a moment, and his lips compressed
themselves as he did so. 'They are tears of a
brave man, sir,' said he, turning to a young of-
ficer at his side, on whose features the emperor's
side glance had caught a nascent smile: For-
ward!' And at full gallop the party left the
ground. Jean's feelings at this sudden escape
from death, were like those of a man wakened
from a frightful dream, before his senses are yet
enough gathered together to remember all its cir-
cumstances. Jean had little time, however, to
gather them on this occasion, for Reaumer's
arms were, in a moment around his neck; and
the hands of his comrades-those very hands that
a minute before were about to deal him death--
were now gladly grasping his; and their many
congratulations on his escape ended in one loud
shout of 'Live the Emperor."

It is a short step from modesty to humility: but a shorter one from vanity to folly, and from weakness to falsehood.--Lavater.

Some men use no other means to acquire respect, than by insisting on it; and it sometimes answers their purpose, as it does a highwayman in regard to money.-Shenstone.

Look out of your door, take notice of that man: see what disquieting, intriguing and shifting, he is content to go through, merely to be thought a man of plain dealing: three grains of honesty would save him all this trouble-alas! he has them not.-Sterne.

Four things are grievously empty-a head without brains, a wit without judgment, a heart without honesty, and a purse without money.

186

AN INVITATION-MADAME D'ARBLAY.

Written for the Casket.

AN INVITATION. Spring, "to the heart inspires Vernal delight and joy, able to drive All sadness, but despair."-MILTON.

Come to the forest!

The spring-time is nigh;
The trees that were hoarest,
Are waving on high:

The young buds are swelling,
They sway to the breeze,

Whose music is dwelling
In numberless trees.

Come forth to the meadows!
Their tenderest green

In the sunlight and shadows
Of April is seen:
Refreshed by the showers
That fall from above,

The earliest flowers

Are smiling in love.

Yes, like youth, when the blossoms
Of feeling are gay,
When the fountains of pleasure
Incessantly play:

When the cheek wears its roses,
And grief flings no thorn,
Where fancy discloses
Her germs of the morn.

Come forth by the waters!
Their musical voice
Is balm to the spirit,
And bids it rejoice:
From the azure stream, leaping
Through woodland and lea,
To the proud river, sweeping
In light to the sea.

From these, and from fountains
That steal from the hills,
Or sing down the mountains,
A music distils:

'Tis soft as the nightingale,
Wooing at eve,

Where pomegranite branches
The sweet breeze receive.
Come forth to the hill-side!
The warm winds are there;
The glad birds are sailing
Aloft in the air:

The sun gilds their pinions,
Where gay clouds on high,
Seem like gorgeous dominions,
And isles in the sky.
Go out, from the city,
Where fair to the view,
The free brooks are rolling
Their volumes of blue;
Where the sails, on the river,
Are gilt by the sun,
And the sky and the ocean
Seem blended in one.

Oh come! 'tis the season
When hearts are renew'd;
When with visions of childhood

The soul is imbued:
When earth, in her garments
Of beauty and love,
Seems an eloquent emblem
Of heaven above.

April, 1833.

MORDAUNT.

MADAME D'ARBLAY.

The following is copied from a memorandum book of Dr. Burney's, written in the year 1808, at Bath:-"The literary history of my second daughter, Fanny, now Madame d'Arblay, is singular. She was wholly unnoticed in the nursery for any talents, or quickness of study; indeed, at eight years old, she did not know her letters; and her brother, the tar, who, in his boyhood, had a natural genius for hoaxing, used to pretend to teach her to read; and gave her a book topsyturvy, which, he said, she never found out? She had, however, a great deal of invention and humour in her childish sports, and used, after having seen a play in Mrs. Garrick's box, to take the actors off, and compose speeches for their characters, for she could not read them. But in company, or before strangers, she was silent, backward, and timid, even to sheepishness, and, from her shyness, had such profound gravity and composure of features, that those of my friends who came often to my house, and entered into the different humours of the children, never called Fanny by another name, from the time she had reached her eleventh year, than the Old Lady. Her first work, 'Evelina,' was written by stealth, in a closet up two pair of stairs that was appropriated to the younger children as a play-room. No one was let into the secret but my third daughter, afterwards Mrs. Phillips; though even to her it was never read till printed, from want of private opportunity. To me, nevertheless, she con. fidentially owned that she was going, through her brother Charles, to print a little work, but she besought me never to ask to see it. I laughed at her plan, but promised silent acquiescence; and the book had been six months published before I even heard its name; which I learned at last without her knowledge. But great, indeed, was then my surprise, to find that it was in general reading, and commended in no common manner in the several Reviews of the times. Of this she was unacquainted herself, as she was then ill, and in the country. When I knew its title, Í commissioned one of her sisters to procure it for me privately. I opened the first volume with fear and trembling; not having the least idea that, without the use of the press, or any practical knowledge of the world, she could write a book worth reading. The dedication to myself, however, brought tears into my eyes, and before I had read half the first volume I was much surprised, and 1 confess, delighted, and most especially with the letters of Mr. Villans. She had always had a great affection for me; had an excellent heart, and a natural simplicity and probity about her that wanted no teaching." (Extract from "Memoirs of Dr. Burney," arranged from his own manuscripts.)

SUGAR CANE-WILLIAM HOTMAN-THE VOICE OF SPRING.

The sugar cane is generally admitted to be a native of China. Marco Polo the traveller, revealed to the world the knowledge of this plant in the middle of the thirteenth century, though it was partially known much earlier. The plant was soon conveyed to America, Nubia, Egypt and Ethiopia, and early in the fifteenth century it appeared in Europe. Sicily took the lead in its cultivation, whence it passed to Spain, Madeira, and the Canary Islands. Shortly after the discovery by Columbus, this plant was conveyed to Hayti and Brasil, and soon spread through the

In new and moist land the sugar-cane attains sometimes the height of twenty feet. It is always propagated from cuttings. The hoeing of a cane-field is a most laborious operation when performed, as it must be, under the rays of a tropical sun. The plough has of late years in some places superseded this mode of cultivation. The planting of canes does not require to be renewed annually. When ripe they are cut close to the ground, divided into convenient lengths, tied in bundles, and conveyed to the mill, where the juice is expressed by passing twice between cylinders. This is collected in cisterns and immediately subjected to heat. Lime, or lime water is added to separate the grosser particles, which, rising to the top, are removed. Very rapid boiling evaporates the water, and brings the syrup to such a consistency that it will granulate on cooling. Five gallons of juice yield six pounds of sugar, this being the produce of about one hundred and ten well grown canes.

The sugar is put into hogsheads pierced with

187

[graphic]

holes, and the molasses runs out into cisterns, leaving the contents of the cask as we see it in our grocers shops; the casks are then filled up and shipped. The molasses and scummings of the coppers are collected, and after fermentation are distilled for the production of rum.

Sugar is now refined by the use of steam instead of the old process in which bullock's blood formed a disgusting ingredient. This refined sugar is pure and more elegant. There are several such refineries in Philadelphia and New Orleans, as well as other places.

At New London, Connecticut, the following inscription is found on a grave stone. "On the 20th of October, 1781, 4,000 English fell upon this town, with fire and sword-700 Americans defended the fort for a whole day; but in the evening, about 4 o'clock, it was taken. The commander of the besieged delivered up his sword to an Englishman, who immediately stabbed him; all his comrades were put to the sword. A line of powder was then laid from the magazine of the fort to the sea, then to be lighted, thus to blow the fort up into the air. William Hotman, who lay not far distant, wounded by three strokes of the bayonet in his body, beheld it, and said to one of his wounded friends who was still also alive, "we will endeavor to crawl to this line; we will completely wet the powder with our blood; thus will we, with the little life that remains to us, save the fort and the magazine, and perhaps a few of comrades, who are only He alone had strength to accomplish this noble design. In his thirtieth year he died on the powder which he overflowed with his blood. His friends, and seven of his wounded companions, by that means, had their lives preserved." (After this simple narrative, are the following words in large characters:) "Here rests William Hotman."

SONG-"FAREWELL TO MY DEAR NATIVE HILLS."

Music Composed for the Casket, by Erastus E. Marcy.
Andante.

Sym.

04

4b

SONG. Expressione.

Fare

well to my dear native hills, And my humble low - ly cot; The

[blocks in formation]
« ПредишнаНапред »