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Offß WILLY.
Near me now our Willy knreleth,
O'er my soul, devotion stealeth,
As his blue eyes, calm and holy,
Turn from earth to Heaven slowly;
Set m he like an angel praising,
Angels bright are on him gazing,
And his Savior smi es from Heaven,
On the little child of seven,
Softly is the silence broken,
By the sacred words out-spoken;
Low and sweet in meek beseeching,
’Tis the prayer of Jesus’ teaching ;
Filled with praise and resignation,
Asking grace against temptation,
Heard am'd the stars of Heaven,
From the lips of tender seven.
Brother,dear, in Life’syoung morning,
0 »and with grace thy soul’s adorning;
0, let him lie grateful ever,
Weary in thy'pleadings never;
Trust him, serveliim, love, adore him,
Humbly bow thy will before him,
And when “dust to dust’ is given,
Thou will sing his praise in Heaven.
THE WINE-SELLER’S DAUGHTER,
OR
THE NIGHT BEFORE THE
BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS.
RY WILLIAM HENRY TY.CH.
Author of 11 Tht Brothers Vengeance," “ Vir
•ginia Glencetiri “ Saul, the Renegade ,”
“ The .I {octoroon," l > The Red Dn arf s .‘
“The Family Doom” "Tht
Jilack Phantom,'’ “ The
Co’dean f “ Dlobef
<£•<•., <te., die.
COPYHIOHT SECURED.
CHAPTER V.
THE WIZARD.
-As Paul left the house of the for
tune-teller, Mario allowed the two
veiled ladies to enter, and leaving the
door open said: “Pause here for a
moment,” then returned to the small
apartment, wltence he re-appeared
hearing; a lamp.
“I wish to examine the door,” he
remarked as he raised the light above j
his head. One glance satisfied him.
Near the bra Zen knocker was the
mysterious inscription, “ B. & B.
“Follow me, ladies,” he continued,!
after closing the door; and led Ids
visitors into the “ chamber of oracles"
as he termed the small apartment.
This room, we have omitted to
State, was hung in deep black, thickly
carpeted, and contained a single
round taJble, fantastically painted, a
couch and a few chairs.
“Be seated, lady and lady’s ser
vant,” said Mario. “You have hid
den your faces, but your hands are
ungloved,”
Oite of the visitors uttered a cry of
surprise arid hid her fat and scorched
hands in the folds of her dress. The
other sti'U farther revealed her snowy,
tiny himds r and s&id boldly:
“Yaui; are very'wise, sir wizard.—
Can vou; t,eH names of your
visitors ?’.'’ .’>
“Such trifles are unimportant in
the workings of the noble science of
astrology, young lady.”
“ Why young lady ?”
“ Your voice is net disguised,” said
Mario.
“You are shpewd; but not wise
enough to tell memy name,” observed
the lady.
“Perhaps,” replied Mario, striking
the table.
- An invisible bell sounded thrice.—
The black curtain again arose, and the
dismal looking recess was seen.
“Gaze into that gloom,” said Ma
rio, in solemn tones, “ and if those
who serve me deem you worthy they
will declare your name.”
The ladies turned their eyps upon
the recess and a banner, brilliantly il
luminated seemed to float from the
dark distance until both read this in
scription, in deep scarlet letters:
“Rosetta.the Wine-Seller s Daughter."
“Ah, this is sorcery,” exclaimed
the lady.
“ We are in a den of devils !” cried
the other, trembling violently.
The curtain fell suddenly and Mario
said :
“Are you satisfied!”
“No,” exclaimed Rosetta, whose
strong nerves were only stimulated to
further inquiry. “ Tell me the natne
of my attendant.”
The carta in rose again, and the.
banner again floated into view, bear*
gritftfb to §ont|ern pKfoit, |te, anti dheral Information.
ing the words: “Lena, of Stras
bourg!”
“False!” exclaimed Rosetta. “It
is Annette.”
But Annette screamed and sank
into a chair crying:
“ Save my soul, all good angels ! I
haVe not borhe that name for many
years! It was to serve your father,
my child, that I changed my name—
but I defy this sorcerer to say that I
am not an honest woman With nothing
upon my conscience.”
Again the eurtainrose and the ban
ner floated into view. As Annette
read the Inscription she screamed
louder thafl ever. Bhe read the name
of Pierre Rivart.
“ Let us go home ! I feel sick ! In
fact lam disgusted!” cried Annette.
Then changing her mind she exclaim
ed. “ But since you know that I have
sometimes thought of that yduhg man,
tell me if he will make a worthy hus
band !”
Another banner floated into sight
upon which was written: “He will
die as he was born—a traitor.”
“ I knew it,” said Annette.—
“ Doubtless he knows what has become
of my spoons.” Mario made a ges
ture and the curtain fell.
“Now, young lady,” said he, “re
turn home. I divine the object of
your visit. Your father will not in
jure Victor St. John.
Rosetta, despite her natural hardi
hood, trembled violently and ex
claimed : “ Are you a man or a
demon ?”
“ A man,” said Mario, sternly.—-*
“Beware of Victor St. John, Rosetta,
and, if you should ever see him again,
shun him. Better take the head of
an adder in your naked hand than
give ear to the love of Victor St.
John !”
“Do you know him?” gasped Ro
setta. “Ishe so very, very bad ? Can
not a love like mine change his heart ?
Ah, old man, you who are so powerful,
you who have so much wisdom—can
you not aid me in saving him from his
evil nature —if indeed he is so wicked ?
But it is faisq—■false, old man !, Yictyr
is true and noble. This is some plot
to force me to think him vile and
base! I will not believe it! 1 love
him—and I will love him—yes,
though he were thrice as bad as you
would force me to believe !”
Raving in a tempest of passion the
furious girl became incoherent in her
cries, and Annette threw her arms
around her and struggled to calm
her.
“ She is lost —unless the cause of
this madness is crushed,” thought
Mario, as he calmly viewed the sceno.
Suddenly Rosetta, with a passionate
gesture, tore off her veil and facing
Mario cried: “Tell me! Does he
love Viola Hartly V”
But Mario recoiled from the white
and quivering face, with a loud and
sharp cry of terror, dismay and horror
pealing front his lips, llis eyes glared
wildly, his grizzled hair seemed to rise
with the agony of sudden dread and
his very beard to bristle with wild
wonder.
“Saints alive !” screamed Annette,
clinging to Rosetta. “ lie is going
mad—see how he claws at the air with
his hands—and snaps his teeth.”
And in truth Mario’s visage pre
sented a terrific spectacle. lie seem
ed suffocating with some word that
rattled in his throat and foamed upon
his lips. He strode with outstretched
arms towards Ros’etta. She retreat
ed, appalled at his glaring eyes and
glistening teeth ; with her beautiful
but terrified face turned towards him,
as white as the lace of her collar,
while Annette, true to her love for
her foster-child sprang between.
Mario gasped, threw up his arras,
cried again that loud sharp cry and
fell headlong backwards to the floor.
“ Ah! he is dead! Bendiito is
dead 1” exclaimed Annette ; but
glancing towards the black curtain,
which rustled as it rose, she saw the
real Benditto, the living counterpart
of him upon the floor, peering from
the recess, his eyes flashing with as
tonishment.
“Look! See!” cried Annette,
“ there are two Benditto’s ! Mercy !
Come, my child 1 We are in the lair
of Satan !” and g“asping the waist of
the bewildered Rosetta she dragged
her from the room into the hall, then
to the street door—unlocked it and
rushed into the street with a speed now
rivaled by that of Rosetta, who fled
with her, hand in hand until the house
! of the fortune-teller was many squares
behind them.
“I must catch breath, my dear
child,” gasped Annette, as she sank
exhausted upon a gate-step. “ Ah,
what an adventure.”
Rosetta made no reply, but upheld
till now by the strength of fear, drop
ped upon the pavement as senseless as
the stones beneath her.
j “Saints of Heaven?” cried Aft*
' nette, springing the proMrate form,
! and striving to raise it in her mwm-
GREENVILLE, GEORGIA. WEDNESDAY, MAY 1. 1861.
But her recent' race of terror had
made the strong woman as weak as a
child.
Tearing off her cloak, rolling it in
to a pillow, and placing it under the
head of the unhappy girl, Annette
tried to open the gate of the flower
garden that barred her approach to
the house to which it belonged.
The gate was locked ; and the deep
growl of a monstrous dog, guardian of
the place, warned Annette of the
presence of the savage beast within.
But the noble hearted woman fcurged
all her weight against the gate, sprung
its hinges loose, and darttyrßup -the
shelly walk, nor paused until site clam
ored at the house-door.
The occupants were slow in respond
ing, and the dog, excited to fury by
the invasion made ferocious leaps to,
break the chain which bound him in
his kennel.
“ Open! In the name of Heaven
open 1” screamed Annette, striking
the door with hands and feet.
At length the door flew open, and
Annette found herself confronted by
a beautiful young lady; whose firm eye
and resolute face proved her able and
ready to use the carbine she grasped
in her steady hands.
“Pardon!” cried Annette. “Oil
come did my child ! She is dead or
dying at your gate ! come quickly.’*
By this time several female servants
and one or two aged negro men, had '
hurried to the spot, staring in open
mouthed wonder at the intruder.
“Bring lights,” said the young
lady to the servants, in acalrn andmel
odious voice. “ Good woman, calm
yourself—we will do all in our power.
Hasten, Jane—give me that candle
come with me, John and Robin—
lead us to your child, good woman.”
“Ah, she is not my child in truth,”
said Annette, as all followed her, “but
my foster-child, the only child of
Paul Ainar, the wine-seller. Perhaps
she has simply swooned.
“Carry her into the house,” said
the lady, as the servants gathered
around the unconscious Rosetta. —
“ Rite lives
her into the saloon and place her upon
the nearest sofa.
These orders Were delivered rapidly,
but with admirablc-.jcoolness, though
the young lady w-as pale-and her eyes
flashed with exciternent,’ -*
Her commands were’quickly, ohfeyed
and the lady asked,: • '• *•.. :
“How did this happen?”
“ It is too long a story’ toHell now,"
replied Annette, chafing Rosetta’s
hands and temples. We have been
terribly frightened by ar hideous old
man.”
“ She is exceedingly lovely,” said
the lady, as she aided Annette, “ and
very young. Ah, she opens her eyes
—what beautiful eyes.”
Rosetta recovered her senses almost
as quickly as she had lost them, and
her eyes glanced from face to face,
until they paused in sudden wonder
upon the angelic beauty of the yo.urrg
lady near her. . ' -
The lady was in full flush .of young;
womanhood, not more than twenty
years of age ; tall, dignified and su
perbly developed; with grand blue
eyes, gentle and brilliant-; massy
locks of a deep brown that seemed jet
black by the fire light, and a face and
form of rare and dazzling loveliness,
pervaded by an expression of the
purest ingenuousness and benevo
lence.
Rosetta gazed for an instant iipon -
this vision of heavenly beauty as.'if
entranced, and then springing tojhpfr
feet exclaimed:
“Viola Hartly !” •*
“lam Viola Hartly,” said the lady,
in a tone of softened wonder at being.
addressed by name by a stranger. —
I am happy to have been of service
to you, my dear friend. You are too
weak to go home —remain here till
morning.”
“Is this your house?” asked Ro
setta, in a trembling voice.
“No —but the Jiouse of a dear
friend, Miss Allison, who will rejoice,
as I do, to be of service to you,” re
plied Viola.
“Os service to me /" exclaimed
the haughty and mortified Rosetta. —
“ Viola Hartly can never be of any
service to Rosetta Amar. I would
rather have died upon the street than
have had this mortification. Come,
Annette, let us go home, or I shall go
mad with shame.”
“My dear child,” began Annette,
as Viola drew back from Rosetta’s
flashing eyesand contemptuous gesture.
“ I say come, before 1 die of shame !
To be found in the street at night is
bad enough—but to be found by Viola
Hartly ! Come!” said Rosetta, drag
ging Annette away, and flashing back
Viola’s astonishment with glances of
jealous hate.
“ I know not, young lady, why you
address such words and looks to me.”
Said Viola, growing cold arid Stately
as hr insulted queens “but hope
ther* is some greet mistake.” u
“There is no mistake ib my feel
ings towards you , Viola llartly. For
all your wealth and station, I think
myself not at all happy m having
madeyour acquaintance.”
“You have not made my acquain
tance,” retorted the insulted Viola,
with calm dignity, as Rosetta left the
house with the bewildered Annette,
who began to expect that the end of
the night's adventures would he a vol
cano or an earthquake—perhaps a
deluge*.
’ her tSrtgue would Itave rattled all
ttye way home, if Rosetta had opened
her lips, but Rosetta said not a word,
isid honest Annette was one of those
Juniable dames who become muter
<P&n migfljc-.when no one replies to
jhem. ,
vUpon reaching her father’s house,
Rtfcetta dismissed Annette to bed, and
retiring to her room locked herself in.
But not to sleep for she had not
watned Victor St. John of the im
pending danger, and her resolution
stronger as obstacles rose to
oppise her. 7.
Annette retired to her bed, mutter
ing k> her uneasy pillow :
“After air, I have discovered noth-
those spoons.”
Chapter vt.
W-.SIIE PORTRAITS.
-” As tfoor clanged alter the pre
cipitate- departure of Annette and Ro
setta; -Iftjiiihto sprang from the necro
mantic recess and hurrfed to the pros
trate aijd senseless Mario, who lay as
he had fiflobi Apparently in the rigid
embrace-#f death.
“ Mario !”' Cried Benditto, raising
the ghastly head, and staring upon
the half-opened eyes. “Mario! speak !
What means this?”
But Mario remained in the death
like stupor, until Benditto, alarmed by
the obstinacy.-of the fit, and knowing j
the great age of the sufferer, sprang
into the h ill and struck a gong sus
pended against the wall.
Even white, its blare of dissonance
erful iftan“mtjfently of Oriental ex
traction, w’ljth strongly m irked fea
tures, rtito the Chamber of
Oracles; where he found Benditto
supporting Mario’s head upbn his bos*,
otn, and pressing kisses 6f unmistaka
ble affection upon the pallid brow and
withered cheeks.
Benditto made a few rapid gestures
and the servant, for si C v t was his sta
tion, lifted Mario in his stout arms and
bore him to- the portrait chamber.
There he placed the el 1 man upon a
luxurious divan, and hastened away.
He returned immediately with a small
chest of medicines which he presented
to
BVuditto selected a diminutive vial
containing ;in umber colored liquid,
from’which he lpt fall a few drops
upon Mario’s lips.
The effect was almost instantaneous.
Mario heaved a deep drawn sigh and
said i • :.
“ Enough! My* body and not my
’mind hds'heen paralyzed, Benditto. it
was a terrible shock, Benditto, and
my heart became *as ice as I gazed
upon her;”
“A ad wherefore, Mario? Why
should the face of- Rosetta, the wine
seller’s, daughter,, so appall you?”
“ Because it was. as cue sudden see
. ing of'ffneliving \vi««S%e have thought
rieudripiriiy years ago, and believed
hurie,d- : m the earth,” replied Mario,
;srweeplqg his hands, which.still trem
lriedf“»ci 083 his eyes. “ Yes, it was
Ih«r living image.”
t “Os whom do you speak ?” asked
Benditto, in a tone of profound res
pect which did not conceal his wonder.
■; “ Let me whisper it to you—but no
—we have rio listener, for Yadak has
retired. She is the living image of
that portrait at the same age.”
Mario pointed to the portrait of the
Italian girl, which was still unveiled.
Benditto started quickly but recover
ing said:
“1 cannot think but your imagina
tion lias led you astray. Surely I
would have noticed it, for 1 have of
ten gazed admiringly upon the beauty
of the wine-seller's daughter. I cau
trace no lesemblance.”
“It is very natural, Benditto. I
was the lather of the Italian girl and
saw muqh more of her, and every ex
pression of the .face, than you could
have done.”
“ That is very tTue,” replied Benditto,
moodily. “ why uie J cU st '*l so
powerfully excited by a mere resem
blance?”
Because 1 believe,” said Mario,
ristn of and placing his hand upon the
portrait of the child, “ that Rusetta is
the original of this portrait, grown al
most to womanhood !”
Benditto daggered as if he had sud- |
denly received a heavy blow upon his
“I reptSf’lt,” exclaimed Mario,
firmly- “i-assert that Rosetta is my
gran<l-child'.r>
“ Impossible!’’ cried Benditto, With
an expression that seemed to doubt
Mario’s sanity. “ Remember how
Paul, the wine-seller, worships her.
“And did not every body worship
her t" cried Mario, pointing again at
the Italian girl’s picture. “ Wasthere
not a time when no man, woman or
child could pass her without a word of
admiration—without murmuring bles
sings upon- her glorious beauty ?”
“ Say ho more ! Or you will drivw
me ntwd,” cried Benditto. “Who Can
appreciate what she wat with greater
anguish than I?”
“ Pardon me, my Benditto,” said
Mario, gently. “ You have lost more
than I.” •
“ Not so, Mario—but it is folly to
attempt to sum up our individual mis
eries. Hark !—the clock strikes nine
—in another hour Victor St. John
will be here. Shall he pass from here
again, Mario ?”
“If he proves not to he Henri Le
Grand, our vehgeance must not fall
upon him, and unless such proof shall
be as clear to my mind as established
fact, Benditto, we must not harm him.”
“ The proof will be clearly set
forth,” said Benditto; “unless he is
a demon so heartless and inhuman, so
Utterly depraved that his sins of youth
shill seem as virtues to him. Yet, if
it should so happen that your mind
remained unsatisfied, Mario, will you
suffer him, though a stranger to us, to
to go free to destroy the happiness of
Rosetta ?”
Mario's eyes flashed fire, and he
grasped Benditto’s hand eagerly, say
ing;
“ His fate is sealed, Benditto ! For
if he is not Henri Le Grand he is as
great a villain, let him bear what name
he may. Can you believe that I shall
sufi'er him to injure Rosetta, whom I
firmly believe to be my lost grand
child ?”
“ And if Rosetta should prove to be
that grand child—what then ?”
“ The question staggers, Benditto,’’ ;
The,old men-gazed into each otber'sV
e :*
a 'LT"sn?T¥roves to be your grand
child, and Victor St. John proves to*|
be Henri Le Grand our vengeance 1
will deprive her of lover and father at i
one blow !”
“ Sttch a father ! Such a lover !” (
exclaimed Mario fiercely. “He must j
die here this night. You do notspeak,
Benditto?”
Behditto was plunged in gloomy
thought, and paced the floor uneasily.
“ Speak Benditto. You are hesi
tating. Have I not often told you,
that when the time should come to
strike this blow, you would be found
wanting.”
“ Not from any p’.ty to him,” ex
claimed Benditto, with a vehemence
so sjai tling that Mario recoiled. “ I
pause not for pity for him but from
pity for her , if either your or my be
lief should be true.”
“ Ah, I was wrong to allow you to
know of my belief,” said Mario.
“ Though she will suffer no loss in ei
ther case.”
Benditto gazed mournfully upon
the picture of the Italian girl and said:
“ Rosetta is a woman and loves.
She whose image is there could tell
you, and her destiny must teach you
that when such a woman loves, her
love is a frenzy which makes the lover
a god until his perfidy proves him a
demon. Mario, whoever that girl may
be—rand I caunot dream that she is
your grand-child—l pity her if she
shall live, thinking she has lost a noble
heart by cruel fate ; or if she shall
live, to be crushed by learning his
baseness ”
“ lie shall never harm her,” ex
claimed Mario, “and I shall teach
her how black a villain lie was and so
lead her to hate him and rejoice to
learn that he is dead. But that Vic
tor St. John is her father I do not be
lieve ; and if he is, she shall never
know it.”
“ You are too hasty is believing
that she is your grand child, Mario.
You have leaped to the conclusion with
no grounds to go upon, save what
seems to you a most extraordinary re
semblance —a resemblance which I
cannot trace, and surely I should find
such resemblance by instinct—for if
she is your grand child, am I not of
closer kin ?”
Mario rang a small hand-bell, and
the attendant, Yadak appeared.
“ Bring me my box of water-col
ors,” said Mario.
“ It is here,” said Yadak, who was
taught to reply in words when words
were spoken, though in the profession
of fortune-telfiug it was ever his part
to play the mute.
lie went to a small secretary and
opening it gave Mario a box of paints.
Mario prepared a brush for use, and
then said to Benditto,as be approached
the picture of the Italian girl:
“ Avert? your eyes for a moment un
til I shall have-made a change in this
portrait-**
“ Willingly,” said Benditto, as he
paced the floor.
“ Now look,” cried Mario, after
working upon the picture for several
moments, during which he had changed
the entire expression of the features
by a skillful use of the painter’s art.
Benditto raised his eyes to the pic
ture. The features were distorted
with passion, the complexion pale as
paper, the locks disheveled, the brews
drawn from their delicate arching into
a frown.
“It is Rosetta—as she looked when
she cried, ‘ Tell toe! Does be love
Viola !’ ” exclaimed Benditto, recoil
ing in dismay. “ Great Heaven, Ro
setta is—”
“My grandchild!” Cried Mario,
ere Benditto could articulate another
word. “ I have seen the Italian girl
in the same paroxysm of passion—it
was not many years ago when I
threatened her with a Convent, and
her lover with death if I should hear
they met again- And is it not strange
that I have never seen that lover?”
“ You have seen him, but ignor
antly,” said Benditto. “ You will see
him to-night, and I will prove Victor
St, John to be he. But erase that
resemblance—l do not like to see the
portrait so disfigured.”
Mario shook nis head mournfully,
and asked;
“ You cannot love Rosetta ?”
“ I can love nothing—have I not
lost all ?—Rosetta can be nothing to
me unless— ’’ lie paused,
“ Go on,” said Mario.
“ Unless Paul Amar should say to
you, ‘ Rosetta is not ray child ’—and
that is an impossibility, for Paul Amar
lives in the light of her eyes.”
Benditto was playing a difficult
part, for his breast heaved, and his
breath was short and thick as he spoke.
Mario took a sponge from Yadak’s
hand and quickly restored the beauty
of the disfigured portrait.
“ For the time,” said he, after veil* .
ting the three pictures, “ let tis drop
this paiafal subject, and speak of the
'must confess that I know nothing of it.”
Before Benditto could reply, the
clamor of the braeenknocker sounded
through the house.
“ Go show the Visitor to the ohdm
ber of oracles,” said Mario to Yadak.
The attendant departed and Mario
continued:
“ This inscription puzzles toe Ben
ditto. We must learn its meaning,
and why it is inscribed upon our door.
For we, who pretend to read hidden
things, should know if aught threat
ens us.”
* ‘ Very true, Mario. I have noticed
the mysterious inscription during the
last few days* and the thoiight now
occurs to me that ‘ B. £ is not in
scribed upon the houses of the poor.”
“Ah ! Then why upon ours ?” ask
ed Mario.
“ Because Benditto is believed to be
a very rich miser as well as a cunning
fortune-teller.”
“ So-so. But why is the inscrip
tion found in the drinking saloon of
Paul Amar, who cap not be very rich,
Benditto?"
“If not in gold, he is very wealthy
in the beauty «f Rosetta,” replied
Benditto.
Mario leaped to his feet, with a sti
fled cry of horror. -
“ Then,” said he, in a deep whisper,
“ you think the inscription cannot be
fouud upon houses which do not be
long to the rich, or to those who have
beautiful daughters?”
“ You have said it. I believe it,”
replied Benditto, gravely. “ When a
plague rages in a city men mark the
doors of infected houses that passers-by
may avoid their contaminating vicin
ity. When a great plot is growing
to bloody completion the conspirators
ecretly mark their intended booty and
victims.
The street door grated upon its
hinges, and Mario made a gesture
which warned Benditto to listen.
Both approached the door of the
portrait chamber and leaned forward ,
into the hall so ns to harken to the
voice of the visitor below.
“Is this the house of Benditto, the
fortune-teller ?” were the first words.
No doubt Yadak, playing the part
of a mute, signified in gesture that it
was; for he was immediately heard
leading the visitor into the chamber of
oracl^R.
“It is Pierre Rivart,” whispered
Benditto. “ Paul Amar Jpst -hats
returned to the salogg. ana given InS
bar-tender an' hour of leisure. I will
attend to him. Like most villains? he
is superstitious.”
Benditto left the apartment as Ya
dak appeared from below, and was
soon in the presence of Pierre Rivart.
“ He is frightened,” thought Ben
ditto, as he noticed the ill-eoneealed
agitation of ‘ the young man. “Be
seated," said he aloud, “ Speak
boldly* what do JOH e ?”
[to be dowuuata at os» Vsxz.]
NO. 13.