"Nobile Conte d'Amalfi'-is that the name | more. of the owner of this place?" "No, it is the Chevalier Butler, formerly minister at Naples, lives here,-Sir Omerod Bramston Butler." Tell me of these people here all that you know of them; for they are my more immediate interest at present." "I will tell you everything, on the simple condition that you never speak to me nor of me again. Promise me but this, Miles M'Caskey, and I swear to you I will conceal nothing that I know of them." "You make hard terms, madam," said he, with mock courtesy. "It is no small privation to be denied the pleasure of your agreeable presence; but I comply." "And this shall be our last meeting? "Who is the countess-Countess of what, asked she, with a look of imploring meanand where?" "She is a Milanese; she was a Brancaleone." ing. "Alas, madam, if it must be ! " "Take care," cried she, suddenly, “you once by your mockery drove me to " "Brancaleone, Brancaleone! there were two of them. One went to Mexico with the Well, madam, your memory will perDuke of Sommariva-not his wife." haps record what followed. I shot the friend "This is the other; she is married to Sir who took up your cause. Do you chance to Omerod." "She must be Virginia Brancaleone," said M'Caskey, trying to remember," the same Lord Byron used to rave about.” She nodded an assent, and he continued. "Nini Brancaleone was a toast, I remember, with Wraxall and Trelawney, and the rest of us. She was the reason fair' of many a good glass of claret which Byron gave us, in those days before he became stingy.' "You had better keep your memories to yourself in case you meet her," said she, warningly. "Miles M'Caskey, madam, requires very little advice or admonition in a matter that touches tact or good-breeding." A sickly smile of more than half-derision curled the woman's lip; but she did not speak. "And now let us come back to this Count of Amalfi; who is he? where is he?" "I have told you already I do not know." "There was a time, madam, you would have required no second intimation that it was your duty to find out." know of another who would like to imitate his fortune?" "Gracious Heaven!" cried she, in an agony," has nothing the power to change your cruel nature; or are you to be hard-hearted and merciless to the end?” "I am proud to say, madam, that Miles M'Caskey comes of a house whose motto is Semper M'Caskey.' A scornful curl of the lip seemed to show what respect she felt for the heraldic allusion; but she recovered herself quickly, and said, “ I can stay no longer. It is the hour the countess requires me; but I will come back to-morrow, without you would let me buy off this meeting. Yes, Miles, I am in earnest; this misery is too much for me. I have saved a little sum, and I have it by me in gold. You must be more changed than I can believe, or you will be in want of money. You shall have it all, every ducat of it, if you only pledge me your word never to molest me,-never to follow me,-never to reeognize me again!" CHAPTER XL. THE MAJOR'S TRIALS. olate I ever tasted out of Paris. Found the menue for dinner on the table all right; the MAJOR MILES M'CASKEY is not a foreground wine is au choix, and I begin with La Rose figure in this our story, nor have we any and La Veuve Cliquot. A note from her rereason to suppose that he possesses any at- ferring to something said last night; she is tractions for our readers. When such men-ill and cannot see me, but encloses an order and there are such to be found on life's high-on Parodi of Genoa, in favor of the Nobile way-are met with, the world usually gives Signor il Maggiore M'Caskey, for three thouthem what sailors call a "wide berth, and sand seven hundred and forty-eight francs, ample room to swing in," sincerely trusting and a small tortoise-shell box, containing that they will soon trip their anchor and sail | eighty-six double ducats in gold, so that it off again. Seeing all this, I have no preten- would seem I have fallen into a 'vrai Calision, nor indeed any wish, to impose his company any more than is strictly indispensable, nor dwell on his sojourn at the Molo of Montanara. Indeed, his life at that place was so monotonous and weary to himself, it would be a needless cruelty to chronicle it. fornie' here. Reflected, and replied with a refusal; a M'Caskey cannot stoop to this. Reproved her for ignoring the character to whom she addressed such a proposal, and reiterated my remark of last night, that she never rose to the level at which she could rightly take in the native chivalry of my nature. 66 "Pigeons again for supper, with apology: quails had been sent for to Messina, and expected to-morrow. Shot at a champagneflask in the sea, and smoked. Sir O's. to The major, as we have once passingly seen, kept a sort of brief journal of his daily doings; and a few short extracts from this will Inquired if my presence had been antell us all that we need know of him. On a nounced to Sir O., and learned it had. Orpage of which the upper portion was torn ders given to treat me with distinguished away, we find the following: "Arrived at consideration, but nothing said of an auM- on the 6th at sunset. Ruined old rook-dience. ery. Open at land side, and sea defences all carried away; never could have been strong against artillery. Found Mrs. M'C. in the style of waiting-woman to a Countess Butler, formerly Nini Brancaleone. A warm inter-bacco exquisite, and the supply so ample, I view; difficult to persuade her that I was not in pursuit of herself,-a feminine delusion I tried to dissipate. She,"-henceforth it is thus he always designates Mrs. M'Caskey,— "she avers that she knows nothing of the Count d'Amalfi, nor has ever seen him. Went into a long story about Sir Omerod Butler, of whom I know more myself. She pretends that Nini is married to him,-le- A glorious capon for dinner, stuffed gally married; don't believe a word of it. with oysters,-veritable oysters. Drank Mrs. Have my own suspicions that the title of M'C.'s health in the impression that this was Amalfi has been conferred on B. himself; for a polite attention on her part. No message he lives estranged from England and Eng-from Sir. O. lishmen. Will learn all, however, before I leave. "Roast pigeons, with tomato, a strange fish, and omelette, with Capri to wash it down; a meagre supper; but they say it shall be better to-morrow. am making a petite provision for the future. "Thursday.-Gardener's boy, flesh-wound in the calf of the leg; hope Sir O. may hear of it and send for me. 66 "Friday.-A general fast; a lentil soup and a fish; good but meagre; took it out in wine and tobacco. Had the gardener's boy up, and introduced him to sherry-cobbler. The effect miraculous; danced Tarantella till the bandage came off and he fainted. "Saturday.-Rain and wind; maccaroni much smoked; cook lays it on the chim "Seventh, Wednesday.-Slept soundly and had a swim; took a sea view of the place, - but could see no one about. Capital break-ney that wont draw with a Levant wind. fast,- - Frutti di mare,' boiled in Rhine wine; fellow who waited said a favorite dish of his excellency's, meaning Sir O. B. Best choc Read over my instructions again and understand them as little as before: You will hold yourself at the orders of the Count d'Amalfi till further instructions from this department.' Vague enough all this; and for anything I see, or am likely to see, of this count, I may pass the autumn here. Tried to attract Sir O's attention by knocking off the oranges at top of his wall, and received intimation to fire in some other direction. "Sunday.-Don Luigi Something has come to say mass. Asked him to dinner, but find him engaged to the countess. A dry old cove, who evidently knows everything, but will tell nothing; has promised to lend me a guitar and a book or two, in return for which I have sent down three bottles of our host's champagne to his reverence. "Monday.-Lobsters. "Tuesday.Somebody ill apparently; much ringing of bells and disorder. My dinner an hour late. Another appeal from Mrs. M'C., repeating her former proposal with greater energy; this feminine insistance provokes me. I might tell her that of the three women who have borne my name none but herself would have so far presumed; but I forbear. Pity has ever been the weakness of my nature; I feel its workings even as I write this. It may not carry me to the length of forgiveness; but I can compassionate; I will send her this note : 666 MADAM,-Your prayers have succeeded; I yield. It would not be generous in me to say what the sacrifice has cost me. When a M'Caskey bends, it is an oak of the forest snaps in two. I make but one condition; I will have no gratitude. Keep the tears that you would shed at my feet for the hours of your solitary sorrow. You will see, therefore, that we are to meet no more. One of the ducats is clipped on the edge, and another discolored as by an acid; I am above requiring that they be exchanged. Nothing in this last act of our intercourse shall prevent you remembering me as "Semper M'Caskey." Your cheque should have specified Parodi & Co., not Parodi alone. To a man less known the omission might give inconvenience; this, too, however, I pardon. Farewell.'" men! When shall the world look upon our like again? Each in his own style, too, perfectly distinct, perfectly dissimilar; neither of them, however, had this; neither had this! " cried he, as he darted a look of catlike fierceness from his fiery gray eyes. "The Princess Metternich fainted when I gave her that glance. She had the temerity to say, 'Qui est ce Monsieur M'Caskey?' Why not ask who is Soult? who is Wellington? who is everybody? Such is the ignorance of a woman! Madame la Princess," added he, in a graver tone," if it be your fortune to turn your footsteps to Montpellier, walk into the churchyard there, and see the tomb of Jules de Besancon, late major of the 8th Cuirassiers, and whose inscription is in these few words: Tué par M'Caskey.' I put up the monument myself; for he was a brave soldier, and deserved his immortality." At last he arose, and went out on the terrace. It was a bright starlight night, one of those truly Italian nights when the planets streak the calm sea with long lines of light, and the very air seems weary with its burden of perfume. Of the voluptuous enervation that comes of such an hour, he neither knew nor asked to know. Stillness and ed movement, activity, excitement, life, in calm to him savored only of death; he wantfact,-life as he had always known and always liked it. Once or twice the suspicion had crossed his mind that he had been sent on this distant expedition to get rid of him when something of moment was being done elsewhere. His inordinate vanity could readily supply the reasons for such a course. He was one of those men that in times of trouble It was evident that the major felt he had become at once famous. "They call us dancompleted this task with befitting dignity; for gerous," said he, "just as Cromwell was he stood up before a large glass, and placing dangerous, Luther was dangerous, Napoleon one hand within his waistcoat, he gazed at was dangerous. But if we are dangerous, himself in a sort of rapturous veneration. it is because we are driven to it. Admit the "Yes," said he, thoughtfully," George Sey-superiority that you cannot oppose, yield to mour and D'Orsay and myself, we were the inherent greatness that you can only struggle against, and you will find that we are not dangerous,-we are salutary." upon his courage. "What an indignity," thought he," for a M'Caskey to have yielded to a causeless dread!" As thus he thought, he saw, or thought Is it possible," cried he aloud, "that this has been a plot,-that while I am here living this life of inglorious idleness the great he saw, a dark object at some short distance stake is on the table,-the game is begun, off on the sea. He strained his eyes, and and the king's crown being played for?" though long in doubt, at last assured himself M'Caskey knew that whether royalty conquered or was vanquished,―however the struggle ended,-there was to be a grand scene of pillage. The nobles or the merchants-it mattered very little which to him -were to pay for the coming convulsion. Often and often, as he walked the streets of Naples, had he stood before a magnificent palace, or a great country-house, and speculated on the time when it should be his prerogative to smash in that stout door, and proclaim all within it his own. Spolia di M'Caskey" was the inscription that he felt would defy the cupidity of the boldest. "I will stand on the balcony," said he, "and declare, with a wave of my hand, These are mine pass on to other pillage." 66 it was a boat that had drifted from her moorings; for the rope that had fastened her still hung over the stern, and trailed in the sea. By the slightly moving flow of the tide toward shore she came gradually nearer, till at last he was able to reach her with the crook of his riding-whip, and draw her up to the steps. Her light paddle-like oars were on board, and M'Caskey stepped in, determined to make a patient and careful study of the place on its sea-front, and see, if he could, whether it were more of château or jail. With a noiseless motion he stole smoothly along, till he passed a little ruined bastion on a rocky point, and saw himself at the entrance of a small bay, at the extremity of which a blaze of light poured forth, and illuminated the sea for some distance. As he got nearer, he saw that the light came from three large windows that opened on a terrace, thickly studded with orange-trees, under the cover of which he could steal on unseen, and take an observation of all within; for that the room was inhabited was plain enough, one figure continuing to cross and recross the windows as M'Caskey drew nigh. The horrible suspicion that he might be actually a prisoner all this time gained on him more and more, and he ransacked his mind to think of some great name in history whose fate resembled his own. "Could I only assure myself of this," said he, passionately," it is not these old walls would long confine me; I'd scale the highest of them in half an hour; or I'd take to the sea, and swim round that point yonder,-it's not two Stilly and softly, without a ripple behind miles off; and I remember there's a village him, he glided on till the light skiff stole unquite close to it." Though thus the pros-der the overhanging boughs of a large acacia, pect of escape presented itself so palpably over a branch of which he passed his rope to before him, he was deterred from it by the steady the boat, and then standing up he thought that if no intention of forcible de- looked into the room, now so close as alinost tention had ever existed, the fact of his to startle him. having feared it would be an indelible stain THE School Ship in London, had, at the be-attracted general attention. A paper read to a ginning of the year, one hundred and sixty-three learned society ascribes its origin to a wind blowboys on board. The receipts of the society that ing from some desert districts in Africa. has this institution in charge were, for the last year, nearly five thousand pounds, of which nearly four-fifths are a government allowance. On the night of the 21st of February last, there fell in Rome a large quantity of a fine dust, which A NEW kind of silkworm that feeds upon the leaves of the oak has just been introduced into France. It is a native of the table-lands of the Himalaya. From The Quarterly Review. and a number of them were located in the By 1. The Trans-Caucasian Campaign of the 3. Trans-Caucasia. By Baron von Hax- 4. Papers respecting the Settlement of Circassian Emigrants in Turkey. Presented to the House of Commons by command of Her Majesty. 1864. Next came the emigration of the Tatars of the Kouban in 1861-62, caused by an order given by the Russian Government. This order was one of unexampled and needless severity. A large population was compelled to leave the Russian territory at a fixed date. These unfortunate people were compelled to A GRIEVOUS calamity has befallen a brave abandon their homes, to travel with their nation little known to the British public, wives and children, and to land in a new but invested with that romantic interest country in midwinter. The fixing of a term which always attaches to deeds of daring, to at the expiration of which they were obliged an unstained cause, and to an unequal strug- to depart had the effect of depriving them of gle, maintained by a nation in defence of its all their property; for they could obtain no liberty and independence. "It is apparent," price, or but a vile price, for their cattle and Lord Napier writes on the 23d of May last, such things as their neighbors saw that they "that the Russian Government have long must abandon, since they could not transport taken an absolute resolution at any risk them. They landed at Constantinople and to remove the whole of the (Circassian) other parts of Turkey in the midst of snow, mountaineers still in arms from their native sleet, and rain, and the mortality among them places. The system pursued has been for was excessive. At that time it was not possible, two years past to move the troops and the to take a walk in the afternoon at ConstanCossack forts and settlements slowly but tinople without meeting numerous coffins of surely up the valleys which pour their waters little children. Those Turks who were fanorthward to the basin of the Kouban, dis- miliar with the exaggerated statements of possessing the indigenous inhabitants at every the Russian organ Le Nord, and with the step until at last the highest fastnesses have humanitarian cry so sedulously fostered by been reached, and the people inhabiting the Russian diplomacy, for edicts giving equality water-shed have been pushed over into the to the Rayahs, made bitter remarks upon the valleys sloping southward to the Black Sea, reciprocity shown by Russia, and upon the and have carried the savage * and sequesindifference of Europe, and asked if the hutered people of those regions in masses to manity of which they have heard so much the coast. From the coast, as we know, ought not to have interfered here. This ex they are flying by tens of thousands across pulsion of the Tatars was unnecessary; for the sea, to perish by famine and disease un- they were a harmless and pacific people. der the well-meant but clumsy and inadequate The pretext assigned by Russia for the measprotection of the Turkish Government. But, ure was that they maintained communicaalthough attention has now been for the tions with the mountaineers, and assisted first time generally called to what is passing in the Caucasus, it would be a mistake to suppose that the depopulation by Russia of the regions lying about those venerable mountains has only now begun. them in defying the imperial power; for these Tatars occupied the country to the north of the Caucasus, between it and the river Kouban, and their expulsion was a strategic measure taken with a view of circumscribing and hemming in the mountaineers of the Caucasus. Other Tatars, however, besides those of the Kouban, have been driven away or have followed their brethren, and the Muscovite proprietors of the Southern provinces of Russia complain of the loss of a sober and industrious agricultural population whom it is not easy to replace. These wholesale expulsions are traditional |