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YOL. I. &l)e Georgia tVJeekhj/ ! DEVOTED TO Literature and General Information, WM. HENRY PECK, Editor and Proprietor. PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY, BY PECK &_L INE S . TERMS, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE : One copy, per annum $2.00 Single copies 5 cents. ggyAdvertisements inserted at $1 a square of 12 lines, for one insertion, and 50 cents for each subsequent insertion. A liberal deduction made to tboso wlio Advertise T>y the year. ' TWO TRAVELLERS. . I. Many years ago, in a sunny land, Where beauty hath her abode, A traveler passed, who with generous hand Scattered fragrance where’er he trod. People smiled on him, and maidens young Bade him welcome to beauty’s bowers, And his heart was light as he passed along, Still strewing his way with flqwers. The sunshine blessed him where’er he went, And often where love reposes He stayed to toy—till the day was spent, And gone was his wealth of roses i *•’ Next morning, the maidens smiled no more, For they looked, and were filled with gloom That they saw the way with leaves sown o’er—' The debris of yesterday’s bloom. And the trav’lef sighed thathis flowers were gone, And would bloom again—ah, never! “’Twas a pleasant,dpy ; bnt its work is done J And my roses are dead forever!’’ ' ir. Another traveler passed that way, And 'the- maidens came out to n c?t him.j He said “Good morrow, sweet maidsbut they Saw not why they should warmly greet him. And he went his way. ajtd he strewed the ground With flower-seeds dry and black ; And by and by tbe maidens found That roses grew up in his track. Then the maidens blessed him, andsWthimlove, And grieved that itfey cold had been, And they woed him back to tbeir perfumed grove And wedded him to their Queen. • lir ; Ye may scatter your rOises all to day, And to-night your joys are past; Ye may sow good seed in your patient way, And be happy while life shall last. THE WINE-SELLER’S DAUGHTER, OR THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. nY WILLIAM HENRY FECK. Author of “ The Brother's Vengeance ,” “ T'tr ginia Glencairc," “Saul, the Renegade," “ The Moetoreon," “ The Red Dwarf,.’ “The Family Doom," “The Black Phantom," “ The Corsican, ” 1 ‘ Blobs," <be., dkc., rfco. COPYKIGHT SECURED. CHAPTER XI. THE JEWELS. St. John tossed aside his cloak and placed his hand upon the casket of jewels saying: “ You will recognise these jewels.” “I! Where have I seen them, Sig nor Captain?” “ I purchased them of my brother,” replied St. John, calmly, as he fitted a key in the lock. “ And he ?” asked Mario. “Received them from his wife, Clara Antelli,” replied St. John, opening the casket. “Ah !” cried Mario, as the light flashed and glittered upon a superb necklace of diamonds, a golden cross studded with rubies and sapphires, bracelets of antique carving set with pearls and emeralds, and golden rings of rare value gleaming with precious stones. Mario stared so fixedly upon this treasure that, for a moment, he forgot that the piercing blue eyes of his reckless visitor were watching him with an intensity almost painful. Neither did St. John know that a pair of eyes, as keen, as piercing as hiS, were flashing hate and vengeance Upon him from the gloom of the cur tained reoess—where crouched the real Benditto of this story. “ It seems you recognize them,” re marked St. John, as he drew his sabre hilt nearer to his hand, and fingered a pistol in his sash. “ They are the family jewels of the noble house of Antelli,” replied Ma rio—heaving a deep sigh. “ I have not seen them for many years. So you purchased them of your brother?” “ I am far from denying the truth of the honorable Captain’s assertion,” observed Mario, with a profound in clination of the head. “ Still, I beg leave to aver, with due respect, Signor, and not as a claim, that the jewels are rightfully mine. Henri Le Grand having learned from his wife—the day before he poisoned her—where Count .Mario kept the Antelli jewels, stole them!” '* “ That brother of mine was a rare scapegrace, ’ ’ laughed St John. “ But ‘'geboteMo mitftfS <1 m -'/ the robbery was his—the purchase js mine, friend Benditto. Were w^ 1 now in Florence you, as Count Ben ditto di Antelli, might force me to give them up to you at once. But we are in America. I am Victor St. John, and you my tradesman, my prince of money lenders. I will sell them.” “ This wretch,” thought Mario, as he noted the scornful bearing of the powerful Captain, “ believes me alone in this house, or by my soul he has his’ bravos within hearing of his war cry! I have a giant to deal Still,'he floes not suspect, that _ Count Mario. I will try him.” “Captain,” he said aloud, “as the heir of Count Mario I have a right to become possessor of these jewels without purchase.” “A right, friend Benditto, is a phantom—a mere nothing to me, when the right to maintain it is a trifle,” replied St. John, placing his hand upon the casket. “That I well know,” said Mario. “But if—a mere if—if I should say to you, ‘ Captain, these jewels are mine, for your worthy brother stole them from mine, who is dead, and I must take them, and then with a sin gle stroke of this little hammer sur round you with drawn swords and cocked pistols—ready at my beck to cut and blow yoiir head to atoms —- eh? What then?” A pallor swept over St. John’s haughty face, but he laughed scorn fully and replied : “ Alone I would not fear your sijprds and pistols. Would I fear them, when by placing this whistle to my lips I can summon a force able to tear your house to ruins, and you from a man to a thousand shreds. Lis ten !” lie blew a shrill, rattling whistle upon the silver tube he placed to his lips, and for an instant the street with out seemed alive with similar sounds. The peculiar signal was heard at the very doors of the house. “You hear,” said St. John. “If I whistle again my friends out there come in.” IR ureat TTeaVen T l ' “what a terrible man is this ! How" vigilant, how cunning. We thought him our helpless prey—and behold we may be his. Why does he not take the gold at once ? It is because he is not ready to begin, and knows, or hopes to get money now and to take the jeweels back by force to-morrow, or when the plot sweeps forth from its hiding places in open rapine.” “ Come, I am waiting on you, old man,” said St. John, sternly. “ What will you advance for the jewels?” He spread the gems upon the table, and swept them into a heap again with his strong, handsome hands. J “ How much do you desire ?” asked Mario, hoarsely. “ They are worth a great fortune, my dear Benditto. Take them for ten thousand dollars in gold, and your check upon the United States Branch Bank of New Orleans—say for thirty thousand.” “ The jewels are worth more, Sig nor Captain. See, this centre dia mond of the cross is alone worth ten thousand dollars—it was once a gem in the * coronet of the Duke of Venice.” “ You are no Jew, Benditto, or you would not find such a fault with my price,” remarked St. John. “Iname the sum I gave my brother —nothing more or less.” “ Why have you not sold them ere now, Captain ?” “ What is that to you, old man ?” demanded St. John, fiercely. “ Per haps because there was danger in try ing to sell diamonds when all Europe had heard of their loss. No matter for that.” “ How know you that my paper is valuable in the Bank you mention?” asked Mario. “ Perhaps I have a friend there,” replied St. John. “ Come, will you agree to my terms?” “ Ten thousand dollars in gold is a large sum—but I think I have it.” “ And I know you have it, Bendit to,” muttered St. John, as Mario left the apartment, and toying with the jewels; “ and before dawn I will pay your treasury another visit, Count Mario.” Mario hastened to room, where he met Bendittfc pale and fearfully excited. . 1 Satisfied, Mario?” “ I arm This % man is ifignri Le- Grand. His st ory of ji twin brother is a falsehood.” “ And he is a living lie,” Ben ditto with angry bitterness; 1 “He is a terrible enemy, and we have dangerous work before us. 'We must advance the gold. My*draft upon the Bank will be worthless—l have no funds there —and he knows it.” “ Then why does he ask for your draft?” . 0 GRElJNmfife, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, MAY -29, 1861. his cunning overreaches itself,Replied Mario. “He.is in greßßßl immediate need of gold — he must have i* to use this very night. He thinks ft *nofleyf lender, with the bad reputation 'of Beqdilto for greed and avarice, will junfp at a chance to* obtain such diamonds for a trifle of valuable consideration. in return, and_a worthless check. <w* reasons thus: 4 This old SJ»ylock> will give me the gold—for he must to gain the gems, and having given me a worthless draft will run away before morning. But • a *teT l -,Jrttenri to rogaiq the jewels byi can part With them fox » few' hours.’ You see ? He needs the gold now. For what ? To tempt, to bribe, to hire bravos and cut-throats. Come, let us count out the gold—it is easily done—for we will not count it —best weigh it—knowing there are so many dollars to the ounce.” “ I desire to see the effect of our phantoms upon him,” said Ben ditto. “ And then ?” “If he repents, Mario, let us be merciful,” whispered Benditto. • ‘There, I have said your heart Would fail you,” exclaimed Mario, quivering with rage. “No, he will not repent, he will mock, he will sneer ! He shall die —we have sworn it, Benditto.” “We have sworn it,” echoed Ben ditto; in a hollow voice of despair. “ Let not yoiir heart fail you,” con tined Mario, as he weighed out the gold. “It is done ! Now, he wilt de sire to see it weighed. Give me the scales—so; New sweep the g6ld into this sack —so, it is very heavy —but I could carry the world upon'tny'-shoul- ders to-night. Be ready.” So saying the old man returned to St. John, who was poring over a map of the city. . , ± He returned tli ernap to his pocket as MariO' entered, and said : . - “A pleasant lifting, friend Bendit-. to, you have the scales. Let me see the gold, Enough, you need not weigh it. I trust in your honesty. If there isa coin more or less it will be my. mv Iqbj , N°‘ vv lio ~You’ are the Prince of money lenders, and the King of for tune-tellers.” “ The honorable Captain has seen nothing of my powers as .a wizard,” remarked Mario, as he placed the jeivels in the casket and locked it. “If I had time —” said Str. John, glancing at his watch. “ Let’s see, half-past ten —well, I have a few min utes to spare—with what will you amuse me ?” “ Would you desire to see the phan tom of your brother as he appeared in Florence some sixteen years ago?” asked Mario, “ Good! Let us see him, my friend/’ Mario by some mechanical means filled the apartment with a steady rosy light, and then struck the table. He paced to and fro a few times, the Captain looking on contemptuous ly, and then crying, “Behold him!” struck the table again. The curtain arose from the recess and the image of Henri Le Grand, as in the portrait appeared. “Good! Enough!” cried St. John, after gazing upon the image. “He was a handsome youth. Can you show me the lady he married?” The curtain fell, rose again and the image of the Italian girl floated into view. “ Good heaven ! How true to life ! exclaimed St. John, as he gazed upon the lovely image.” “She was fair. Was it not a crime to ruin so lovely a being?” asked 1 Mario", in a deep voice. ' • “ Away with the image. Somehow it sends a chill through my soul. Away with it, old man, it is too much like life !” cried St. John. “ Like life ? The Captain has never seen Clara Antelli alive,” observed Mario. “I say enough of this, old man,” exclaimed St. John, staring wildly at the image. “Henri Le Grand should have loved so fair a wife, Captain.” “ She—” “ Was true to her husband—yet he murdered her!” said a female voice which seemed to issue from the lips of the image, and in softest Tuscan. . “ Ha! it speaks—your phantom speaks, Benditto!” ejaculated St.- John, growing ghastly palex “But [pshaw! I know its some trick!” r “Henri! Henri! Dear Henri!” [Jfcid the image in plaintive notes. Do you hear the Voice ?” cridn?mjohn, fiercely. “Lheijr no voices save yours and j Mario, coldly, i “Yoiplie, old man! You lie!” ex clainUed’ St. John quivering with pas ! thinking: “ I know this is all a juggle, but Great Heaven, how that voice appals me! The voice of the dead!” The image faded from view, and St. John.laughed to. hide hi a tejrpr. ■ N ' ~ . •' capital trick, BencTittp,.but all .lost upon me. L have seefi Enough.- This folly is fit only for fools.” “ Do you think Le Grand ever felt remorse for' his crime, Signor Cap tain?” demanded Mario, carelessly. “ Sgtnrnon him from the grave and ask.hrm,” implied St. John, sneering. “I will4tfipmon one from the grave to.-warn brother of Le Grand,” said Mario; again striking the table. The curtain rose and an aged , 4jl*d -in costly robes seamed to -Mr 3 .to the very edge oi-tne recess.™ “ Count Mario ! as I saw him in j the picture at Florence,” gasped St. John, with difficulty restraining a cry. “But this image is alive! its eyes flash and move—it raises its hand— ho! there is some sorcery here.” “Go not at midnight to meet Roset ta, the Wine-Seller’s Daughter,” said the image, pointing at St. John; who, as he heard these words, drew his sword, crying: “ This is too much, old man. Let me leave' this den of trickery .!” “ You are warned! Harm not Ro setta, or the deed, though it be but a seratch y will haunb’fejM in the hell t'o which all .such as are doomed,” said the man in the recess, who was none other than Benditto. Viclor St Jehn, though startled almost to,a panic, snatched a pistol fromjhis sash, and was in the act of raising It.tyjifire when the apartment was made, as dark as midnight in the ■ twinkling df an eye. “Hit or miss!” cried St. John, firing the pistol at random, >and then slashing around him with his sabre. “ Make light, old wizard ! or I’ll have your house torn down about your ears! Light I say!” The apartment was illuminated in an instant. Mario stood as calmly as •if npthing had happened, hut the cur tain -had fallen over the recess. . “ Old man,” said St. John, with his voice trembling with rage, “you have presumed too far upon your years. •B.efofcp. I leave you I will are score things yqm'do not-know, and which F sh'pil vtffagh/yftii ere long. What means this wa*P»hg\as regards Rosetta? Speak!” Signor .\oaptain, I calinot hear what is said'by-fhese phantoms. They address theifise'le's to the minds of those interested;.” said Mario, sol- J ettmly. . , I St. John grated the word “Liar!” from his set teeth, and tossing his sabre into tbe scabbard, threw on his cloak, grasped the sack of gold and strode into the hall. ’ “ Open your infamous door, Ben ditto,” said he fiercely. Then as Mario complied in silence and swung the door wide open, the stalwart-- conspirator pointed to three niaakflii&hd cloaked men, standing on .the payment, near the threshold, and .said.-mitt deep growling tone of me- oaceA ’ “ Count Mario di Antelli is no match for Henri Le Grand ! Good night.” ■ The-eyes of the two men met for an instant in a fierec and deadly stare, and then • St. John strode away fol lowed by his vigilant satellites. Mario closed the door and staggered back-into the chamber of oracles. Benditto sprang from the recess, clad in the rich dress of the Floren tine nobleman. “ lie has declared himself Benditto, and avowed his recognition of me,” said Mario. “-Benditto,' he is not a man; he is a demon. Ah, that my sen, Conrad, had lived. I am old, feeble —a weak old man—and you, ! Benditto — “ I will outwit this villain cy die at his feet,”" said fiercely. “ Yadak has returned.”*... J “ And Rivart ?” • “Is our prisoner. Yadak had no ! trouble in taking him, as Rivart is sued from the company of his friends i alone, just as Yadak returned to the spot. Yadak felled him with a single blow, gagged and, brought him here— entering from the rear. But Rivart recovered on the way and threw some thing far from him. By its clink as it struck upon the pavement Yadak thinks it-waS a coin.” “He fears detection as a conspira tor,” said Mario, “and sought to rid himself -of all proof of complicity. The loss can be remedied, as we have the same coin and of the same date. I will engrave the secret sign above its exergue. But now let ns visit our prisoner.” CHAPTER xit THE WINS-SELLEU< % While the Florentines examine their prisoner, the unprincipled Pierre Ri vart, let us return to Viola’s lover, the noble minded Henry Allison. Accompanied by the Sergeant and one follower, he rode at full speed to 'the mansion of Col. Hartly; and was there informed that the Colonel was visiting at Monsieur Valid’s—Henry’s grandfather. The party were soon at Valid’s hospitable home, and at the first summons the old French gentle man came to the door. “Ah, my son,” exclaimed Valid, “are you there! Ride on to your moth er—my daughter is very ill, but bet ter this evening. What news from the camp ? and where is the General, your fatb<«^” ~ left my mother, my ■kther,” said Ilenry.--- Ms with her. We fear she I is dying-*--■» “ Ha—dying! Jean ! Rupert! my carriage you rascals!” cried the alarmed grandfather. “ Make haste —everybody! Quick ! my dear Lau rette dying!” “Is Col. Hartly here?” asked Henry. “I am here, Captain,” said the Colonel advancing upon the piazza. “ You saw Viola then, did you not ?” “ She is not there now, sir,” replied Henry. “ Not there ?” exclaimed Hartly: “I and my friend Valid accompanied her there little more than an hour or so ago.” “ Where is your carriage to-night?” asked Henry. “In a stable on* Toulouse street, my dear boy. An accident compelled Viola to leave it in the street and Cuba, our black driver, placed it in empty stable or carriage-shed, the nearest at hand. One of the horses died in the street, the other Cuba led to my house.” “And Clarke, your white driver?” “ Has not left his bed thia week — from a sprained ancle, Henry. What do you mean by all these questions ? Good Heaven! has anything happened to Viola.” “ Something very dreadful, Col onel,” replied HCfiry v “ She has dis appeared under, very suspicious cir cumstances, i ** the story, and veteran bowed Jag Itjpkceping, Oh Lord! Jbld age! And lost!” | “Take hen 4 #?, my noble friend!” cried Vall6, as his carriage swept | around from the rear to the gate. : “ Come, we will hurry to our friend Paul, the wine-seller. Did you say ; Carlos the Spaniard ! Why, life of |my soul! that fellow is one of thjg (friends of.Victor St. John, have ever despised.” “Victor St. John!” excirlmed Henry. “Ride back Sergeant—find that gentleman—arrest Janos If my suspicions prove groundless I will give him any and every satisfaction.” “ Victor St. John !” thought Col. Hartly, as he entered Valle’s carriage. “ The man had vengeance in his eye when I forbade him to enter my house again. If my poor child is in his power she is l lost ! Guard her, God of Heaven!”, “ Drive, Rupert! drive like the wind to Monsieur Paul’s saloon i” shouted Valid. “ All—l forgot —my daughter is dying—yours is lost —but to the saloon first.” The carried rolled away rapidly, and Henry Allison spurred his wearied horse to keep pace with itx Within a very short time the party reached Jiaul’s saloon. “ Consult Paul, my friends,” said Valid. “He has much good sense as well as more bad wine. I must has ten to my dear Laurette. Rupert, are you awake, scoundrel! Take up Dr. Montavine on the way to Gen. AlHspnlfepr^V A 0 : vl rriage rolled away, while Ilenrv and Col. Hartly hurried into the saloon. Pauli Amar was standing behind the bar, for the number of his customers had not diminished, as the saloon was a kind of headquarters for news, and the general impression was that the British would attack on the morrow. The wine-seller, as he served his pa trons bestowed a continuous torrent of abuse upon his absent nephew, Pierre Rivart, who had slipped away the in stant Paul returned from the fortune teller’s. | . “ We wish to see you a moment in private,” said Henry, as he leaned over the counter. “Ho ! is it you Captain 1 Henry! Then - the British will not fight just yet, for I’ll bet my head against a pint of claret that you will be in the field. What news from the. camp, Captain ?” “All’s well, Paul; but step aside with us for a moment,” replied Henry. “ With pleasure, Captain—but I must call upon some of my friends to take my place—you see that rascally nephew of mine, Pierre Rivart, has gone sky-larking somewhere, and left me up to my eyes in trouble. The noble citizens are rarely thirsty to night. Karl—and you Pretal—please attend to the bar. Now Captain please to follow me—and you also Col. Hartly. I have a cozy little parlor above where we may .talk at ease.” He left the saloon in the eare of two of his humble patrons, and opening the door behind the bar preceded hi*** two friends up the stair-case, and into a Bmall but neatly furnished apart ment. “ Seat yourselves, gentlemen—now can'l be of any service to you!’^,^*' Col. Hartly related the strangexus "appearance of his daughter, and as he eonchided by mentioning his suspi cions of Victor St. John, the wine seller sprang to his feet almost shout >g; | “ True I Victor St. John is doubtless the rascal. Do you think? 'The ras ■ cal has attempted to gain a secret ! meeting this night with my daughter, Rosetta !” Paul had forgot that nothing but a thin and papered partition separated the little parlor from the bed room of h>s wakeful daughter, who had been sitting in an agony of thought ever since her return from the fortune teller’s. She had heard the heavy tramp of her father as he led his visitors up the stairs and into the parlor; but had given little heed to the indistinctly heard conversation, until the leathern lungs of the wrathful wine-seller ut tered the name of her lover, and coupled it with her own. “ They are talking of us,” thought Rosetta, gliding from her seat to thq partition, and placing her rosy little ear against a crack, from which the paper had parted in drying. “ A meeting with your daughter V* exclaimed Henry. “ The scoun drel!” “A Judas! a Herod! a-a-a-what shall I call him,” roared Paul, smiting his hands together. “But listen—l have put Benditto wpoh his track — Benditto will slay him before dawn.” “Oh my soul!” thought Rosetta. “He has been to the fortune-teller’s —they mean to kill Victor— -vw noble meTascal,” resumed shall look out for him. You seehe will prowl about the Place D’Armes at twelve to-night, hoping tor meet my crazy-brained has no more wit than an oyster. Now, I shall ! meet him there—” r“ Ah !” sighed Rosetta—“you will be there V 1 “And by the blood of my body, gentlemen, Paul Amar will give him such a drubbing that he shall send for my friend Dr. Burritt, to set ererv bone in his vile carcass/’ “But in the meantime we must rescue Viola,” said Col. Hartly. “What!” thought Rosetta, grow ing cold and terrified.” “ Has Victor possession of that proud Viola?” “ Yes, we must to the rescue of Miss Hartly,” said Paul, thoughtfully. “ But who can tell where St. John has concealed her ? It is my opinion that he will not injure Miss Hartly, at least, not to night, for he has too much business on hand —ha ! he has to meet my Roset ta ! Tbe rascal! • to carry off two girls in one night.” “I think Patti is right,” remarked Henry to Col. Hartly. “ Viola will suffer much in mind, but her person will be respected for a time.” “Be assured that he iptends to make Miss Hartly his wife,” said Paul. “He knows that the Captain there, not to speak of Col. Hartly and his sons—will kill him on sight, unless he Can say, * She is my wife, it is not a crime to marry !’ ” Rosetta bit her lip until it hied, to keep from crying out. If Victor St. John meant to marry Viola Hardy what were his intentions towards her ■ At that moment Rosetta couM/mve stabbed her pretended lover—and then herself. “ Nearly two hours must pass be fore we can capture St. John, even if he keepb the appointment with Roset ta,” remarked Col. Hartly, pacing the floor, in anguish of soul.” What outrages may not be committed in two hours!” “ Calm yourself, my dear Colonel,” said Henry. “ I shall not be idle in that time.” “ But what can you do ?” cried Col. Hartly. “ This St. John is a serpent whose hiding places are known to himself alone.” “This audacity,” remarked Paul, “ makes me think that the explosion of the rumored plot to sack the city, is much nearer than we imagine. Thunder! the blow will he struck be fore day-light, for St. John will not dare show his face in New Orleans after this crime, for no doubt he has done it—that Carlos is his shadow.” “ Carlos !” thought Rosetta. “ The black-bearded man who kisses his hand to me—a beast! Ah, this cannot be true!” [TO BE CON TIN LED IN OCR NO. 17.