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n I NTH K DAYS. T) 1( > saddest of the year are these— Wh-'ii n utn re dies, The leaves crow brown, the flower’s low swoon Neath leaden skies. \"o ray ° r hope, no sun’s warm llfrht M n v rest decay ; l lonesome sadness wraps the air Of nil the day. •I, Christ! these days are sadi no thing Nlny spring or leave; T],e birds no longer chirp ; the days The soi l deceive. Car, far from all of these I’d fly. >;ot one thing mourn ; far unto the South, where fipWr* To life are born. v Konl, my soul, stands still, a dread ’ of nil that’s feared ; \ dread— a mist before a gale’s ‘ Too often steered. —Fred Lucca Squiehs. Kocbe ter 71s Mm oi kk li BY ALEXANDRE DUMAS* “No!” “No! no!” repeated all the others, “not after you have already lied to an entire people.” The lire of hatred showed in the viceroy’s eye. He contained himself.however,tremblingly seized the puper, and leaned back against the wall, in order, apparently, the better to peruse it. A moment of solemn silence followed. All that was heard was the confused mur mur of the crowd, and the noise made by the muskets and partisans on the stoue flooring of the palaca Suddenly c. panel of the wall yielded be hind the Duke of Arcos. He glanced at the crowd of men before him, gave a loud, sardonic yell, and disaj)- peared. Masaniello tried in vain to follow. A hun dred arms st ruck, in turn, at the secret door through which the viceroy passed. But the panel yielded not. The insurgents could but just perceive the joint, after they had torn down the Astrakhan leather with which the wall was covered. Cries of ‘ Treachery! To armsl” now re sponded on all sides. Masaniello leaped on the carved oak table which stood in the middle of the room. In one hand he held his poniard, and in the other the paper containing his decrees. “The Duke of Arcos has fled!” said he. "So much the better, for he only knew how to pillage, assassinate and betray. The peo ple are intelligent enough to govern for themselves, and strong enough to defend the independence they have conquered. I de clare that Philip the Fourth, king of Spain, has forfeited the throne of Naples, both he and his descendants! Ixuig live our Lady and our liberty 1” “Long live our leader! long live Masaui ello!” added the insurgents. Masaniello was carried in triumph to the terrace in front of the chamber in which the scene we have just related took place. The streets were filled with noisy and mot ley crowds of women, peasants, fishermen and lazaroni, who were rejoicing over their victory, and singing their national songs. The combat bad ceased, and not a soldier was to be seen anywhere. The}’’ had all taken refuge in the Castel-Nuovo, on tho towers of which they were already pointing their cannons against a people intoxicated with joy. An immense shout ran throughout the city when the Neapolitan flag was seen floating on the terrace of the Vicaria. But a greater one still was raised when he who had planted it there was recognized. It was Masaniello. He motioned the people to be silent. “No more Spaniards!” cried he “Long live Masaniello, the head of the people!” replied tho multitude. “No more taxes I” “Long live Masaniello!” “No more tyrants! Henceforth the motto of Naples shail bo ‘Christ and Liberty I’ ” “Christ and Liberty!” repeated tho enthu siastic people, in voices of thunder. The fisherman returned to tho council chamber, called around him the leaders of the revolt, ordered them to keep tho people under arms, to place sentinels at the corners of the streets, and to cut off the aqueducts leading to the Castel-Nuovo. Then he drew up a proclamation, in which the life and property of every one was pro claimed sacred, and in which those who com mitted the slightest uct of pillage were threatened with instant death. At this moment Dora Francesco entered. “He are victorious, father,” said Musa niello. “The treacherous Duke of Arcos has fled.” ‘‘Let him g#,” replied the monk, “and tell bis master that tli9 people of Naples will no ionger bear a foreign yoke, and that tkov have regained all their rights and liberty.” “Yes,” added Masaniello; “let him go, though he takes with him my last hope—my ouly love!” “You weep, my son!” exclaimed the monk, who was stiil ignorant of the dreadful secret vhich Salvator Rosa had divulged. “Francesco,” said Masaniello, “one day has sufficed to destroy all my happiness.” “What do you mean?” “This young girl I loved” “Well?” “For whom I would sacrifice all, my life, my liberty—is Isabella, the daughter of the Duke Of Areos!” “Unfortunate man!” exclaimed the monk. Abundant tears ran down the fisherman’s sunburned cheeks. “All is lost!” murmured the monk. “No! no!” exclaimed Masaniello. “Liberty is too precious a thing to be thus abandoned; it must be conquered by tears and suffering. Were it even to kill me, I would tear fron* my heart the love I have conceived—that monstrous passion which was to unite the man of tho people and the daughter of the tyrant.” “Will you have the strength to do this, my son ?” “Yes, father; the field of liberty must often be watered with our tears as well as with our blood.” “May heaven bless your efforts, Masa niello! Man is weak. Remember that the look of a woman may break tho sword grasped by the firmest hand. Isabella must leave without your seeing her again.” “Ohl there is nothing more in common with me and the despot’s daughter,” replied the fisherman. Then he added, in a voice choked with emotion: “But where could I see her? Who knows 'what has become of her? Perhaps * But no! 1 must have but one thought now, since such is the will of heaven. The enemy of the Duke of Arcos must be the enemy of his daughter. Adieu 1 father, adieu 1” CHAPTER XIII. TOTS ABEEV OF SANTA CHIARA. Dom Francesco had scarcely quitted tho palace when Pietro appeared. “What news of the Duke of Arcos?” asked Masaniello. “His standard is floating on the donjon of the Castel-Nuovo. But it is not there that soon arrived, and the hungry band fell upon them like so many wild l>easts. As soon as Corcelli had supjied he beckoned to his two lieutenants and led them into the adjoining room. ‘*We have, as you know,” said he, “been balked of the pillage we expected.” “Yes, duped!” interrupted a little old man of paternal appearance, and whose angular face was worn and haggard. This personage had been nicknamed II Boon Padre, on account of the simplicity of his gestures and his unctuous way of shak ing We need not add that II Buon Padre, was one of the most determined, avaricious and inexorable rascals of Corcelli’s band. “The Duke of Arcos,” continued Corcelli “though he had a certain love for hanging us, which, 1 believe, is traditional in his family, was yet a very generous viceroy, who intrusted us, from time to time, with a lucrative expedition. Then the lords and ladies of the court sometimes honored us with their confidence If they wanted to calm a jealous husband or to correct a faith less lover, it w as our poniards they employed in both cases. But this cursed revolution, which we, like fooh, helped to bring about, has deprived us of the best part of our reve nue.” “Then why did you lead us against tho Spaniards?” replied II Buon Padre. “Did you not know that every kind of industry suffers in time of riot? All confidence is de stroyed, monej r disappears, there is nothing to he done on the road, and, per Bacco, we condottieri die of hunger.” “11 Buon Padre is right,” added Marsupio, the second lieutenant. “A nobleman like tho Duke of Arcos, whose ancestors have inhab ited a castle on the top of a mountain for the last five centuries, and who have never had any occupation but that of slaughtering tho monks and plundering all travelers, can un derstand a business like ours. He has some respect for us gentlemen of the mountains, and makes sbirri of us when we grow old and when the sharp air of the Apennines no longer suits our health. But these fishermen and peasants have ueither pity nor consider ation for us.” After having allowed his lieutenants to give free course to their bud humor, Corcelli said: “Masaniello has promised to pay me twenty thousand ducats, but the humbug will be like enough to seud down here five or six hundred fishermen armed with boat hooks, and to have us harpooned like congers. What do you think, Marsupio?” “1 think that viceroys in hobnails are more dangerous than those in velvet doub lets,” replied the lieutenant, pouring himself out a glass of wine, which ho swallowed at one draught. “I have, therefore, determined,” continued Corcelli, “to leave this very night, but before doing so” Here his voice became nearly inaudible. “In a word, 1 kuow where to find a treas ure —two treasures —which I will carry off at any time.” “Ah!” said tho two lieutenants—and they drew nearer to Corcelli, and looked him anx iously in the face. “But these treasures are locked up in an impenetrable house and protected by a strong guard. ” “Corpo Santo I” cried II Buon Padre and Marsupio together. “In what house?” asked the latter. “In a convent.” “Aud of how many soldiers does the guard consist?” “Of three hundred—nuns ” The captain and his two lieutenants burst into a loud laugh. “Ah, Corcellil” said they, rubbing their hands, “what a jolly fellow you are! A convent to be stormed and three hundred nuns to be reduced to slavery 1 We shall keep the recollection of this night for a long time.” “Is the treasure heavy?” asked II Buon Padre. “Why, it is, and it isn’t; but let us get hold of it first, and we will count the ducats after ward. ” “You’re right.” “But I may as well tell you all,” added Cor celli. “You recollect that we took the daughter of the Duke of Arcos to the Abbey of Santa Ckiara this morning?” “Yes.” “1 know that Jeanne, the sister of Masa niello, is also staying in tho same retreat; I will carry off these women, and, whichever may be the party that triumphs, I shall be sure to receive a good ransom.” “What is the hour you have fixed on?” “Midnight.” “Good,” replied II Buon Padre. “"We will go aud direct our men to rub their arms up a little. For, suppose the nuns should resistl Hang it! wo must be prepared for every thing.” Corcelli and his two lieutenants remained some time longer in conversation, and then returned to the room in which their men were drinking, to give the signal to leave. The greatest confusion now prevailed among the banditti. The most intoxicated of them got up, uttering frightful oaths, as they tried to keep their equilibrium. Others sought after their arms, and when the ranks were at last formed it was discovered that Conrad, Salvator Rosa’s model, was still ly ing on tho floor, completely overcome with liquor. “Get up, you rascal,” said Corcelli, strik ing the ground with his foot. “I wand do ged indo de paggage vagons,” growled tho drunkard. “Good night, and good luck to you to-mor row morning!” said the captain. He placed himself at the head of his men, and soon arrived in the neighborhood of the Abbey of Santa Chiara. The banditti hid themselves in the masses of the surrounding houses, while their cap tain went to reconnoiter the convent. After examining the place for some time, he found a low chapel, with a slanting roof. He easily climbed up on tho edge that ran round the top of the chapel, and looked in at tho window in the roof. The abbess and several nuns were engaged in prayer around the altar. Corcelli gave his men the signal to advance, and a minute afterward the window was broken in, and the glass of it fell with a loud crash on the stone flooring of the choir. In spite of the rule which commanded the nuns to keep their ej'es constantly fixed on the ground, they could not hinder themselves from turning their affrighted looks toward the place the noise came from. A man appeared on tho edge of the win dow and jumped nimbly into the middle of tho choir; twenty others followed, and took up their station on each side of the altar. Tho nuns did not move. Their duty, at doubtless their fear, riveted them to theii places. They appeared as if under the influence of a frightful cireura. Corcelli advanced toward the abbess, and made her a mock obeisance. II Buon Padre and Marsupio placed sen tinels at every outlet, so that no one might escape. “Venerable mother,” said Corcelli to the abbess, “permit a repentant sinner to kiss your hand.” And he took her hand,'kissed a magnifi cent emerald which was on one of her fin gers, drew it and let it fall into the im mense pocket ot his tunic. “Help, sisters, help I” cried the abbess. “Prepare your arms,” roared Corcelli, in a voice of thunder, “and shoot the first of these women who stirs'or utters the least cry.” The nuns covered their faces with their veils; and then began a frightful scene of sacrilege and spoliation. The brigands had not half accomplished their work of pillage and destruction, when Corcelli, taking aide ten of his most de termined scoundrels, approached the abbess. “Have not two women taken refuge iu your convent today?” inquired he. “Two women!” stammered the abbess, whose head was now confused by fear. “Yes —certainly—but of whom are you talking?” “Of Isabella, the daughter of the Duke of Arcos, aud of Jeanne, the sister of Masani ello. You must deliver these two women up to us.” “Oh! never! never!” exclaimed the abbess, wringing her hands. “Obey instantly, old woman!” replied Cor celli, striking the ground with his musket. “Obey instantly, old woman!” “No! it shall never be said that I gave up two young girls who had sought refuge in the sanctuary of my convent!” An instant afterward she fell back, wounded in the arm by a trust from Cor celli’s poniard. . “Where are they?” roared Corcelli, foam ing with rage. The abbess answered nothing. “Nuns of hell,” exclaimed he, “will you de liver up to me Isabella, the daughter of the Duke of Arcos, and Jeanne, the sister of Ma saniellV?” No voice returned an answer. Corcelli repeated his question. Then an old sister advanced, and taking God to witness that she and her companions were acting under the influence of fear, she led the bandit into the cell occupied by the young girls. Jeanne arid Isabella were asleep in the sain e bed. The old nun awoke the sister and the affi anced of Maso niello. “Rise and dress yourselves, my dear chil dren,” said she. “Why so, good mother?” asked Isabella. “You will know but too soon. Hasten, then, and dress yourselves, and offer up a fervent prayer to heaven. Tho convent has been invaded. *’ “But where is my brother?” exclaimed Jeanne. “Masaniello is doubtless still ignorant of thy misfortune. Tho holy Madonna alone can save us.” The two girls put their clothes on hastily. Corcelli summoned Isabella to his pres ence. “Senora,” said he, “prepare to follow me. Your father, the Duke of Arcos, is waiting for you at the Castel-Nuovo, and I have or ders to take you to him.” “Has he given you any letter for me?” “Any letter!—ah! noble lady, can you think me silly enough to have such a thing about me? If these beggarly Neapolitans had stopped and searched mo, I should have been lost.” Isabella hesitated. “Your companion must also accompany you. The Duke of Arcos wills it so.” “But my father does not know Jeanne.” “It is I who have spoken to him of the sis ter of Masaniello.” “What can be my father’s object in wish ing Jeanne to accompany me to the Castel- Nuovo?” “Masaniello holds you os a hostage.” “Well?” “Corpo Santo! the Duke of Arcos v/ould not be sorry to have, in his turn, the sister of Masaniello in his power.” “It is false, villain!” exclaimed Isabella, with indignation. “My father is a Castil ian, my father is a nobleman, and he is in capable of having given you such an order.” “Less words, if you please,” cried Corcelli; and turning to his men, he added: “To your duty 1” Five or six brigands rushed into the cell, seized tho young girls, bound them in spite of their cries, and then gagged them both. Corcelli returned to the chapel, barricaded tho gates of the convent on the outside, and effected his l’etreat with his double prey without having ai’oused any one iu the whole neighborhood. CHAPTER XV. DOM FRANCESCO. Pietro had faithfully executed the orders of Masaniello; but, by a fatal series of cir cumstances, he had been able to save neither his affianced nor Isabella. The smuggler had followed them in their flight from the faubourg of Loretto to the Convent of IS ant a Chiara, and had hidden himself in an alley opposite, in order the better to observe their movements. Unfor tunaiely, the beginning - of this alley was oc cupied by four or five of Corcelli’s men, who hindered Pietro from seeing, forced as ho was to retreat to the end of the alley, what was going on. At last Corcelli and his men set off from the convent, but Pietro still remained ignor ant of what had taken place. He followed, and only learned his misfortune when, after walking some distance, he saw the banditti open the thick rank in which they were marching, wkilo Corcelli led the prisoners to a calessino which was waiting to receive them. The vehicle took the road to Calabria and the banditti formed themselves into a running escort by the side of it. Pietro still followed, for it was, above all, necessary that he should know to what place Corcelli conducted his victims. Cn, on lie ran, with the courage of despair, until he at lost fell down, worn out with fatigue and weeping with rage, in the middle of the road. The poor fellow managed to drag himself back to the faubourg of Loretto, where he arrived at break of day. He entered the tavern of II Cappucino, and found Conrad still asleep there. Pietro called up poor Cappucino. “You have had carousing here to-night?” said he to the tavern keeper. “Ah! signore mio carissimo! don’t speak of it,” replied II Cappucina; “but,” added he, in a plaintive voice, “do you know Masa niello?” “Yes.” “Well, then, this scoundrel here and his followers, who have consumed more olla podrida, hams and wine than would keep all the ki lg’s cavalry for a week„ have told me that Masaniello will pay for what they have had. Do you believe it?” “llow can 1 know? But listen,” added Pietx-o; “if \ou will o!>ey me, I promise you that you shall be paid.” “What must I do, then, Santa Maria del CarmiueT “One of these fellows is still heref” “Yes, signore mio. a horrid German, who eats like a boa constrictor, and drinks more than a fish.” “Keep him here till I return.” “Will that be soon? for if I have to keep him long” “Fear nothing. Let him have what he likes, and you shall be paid to the last penny.” And Pietro cast a glance or two at Conrad, in order to see with what sort of a rascal he had to deal, and then took his departure for the Vicaria. Naples had just awoke when Dom Fran cosco knocked at the gates of the Vicaria. He was immediately received by Masaniello, who led him into the council chamber. “You did not slt*ep last night, my son,” said the monk to Masaniello, whose cheeks wex*e pale and whose eyes were red with weeping. “No,” replied the young man; “tho load I now bear crushes me; yesterday I felt strong aud full of resolution, but t day I feel my weakness, and am ahnost sinking beneath de spair.” “Courage, Masaniello, courage! Woo be tide him who hesitates, after having let loose the gushing waters of promise!” “Yes, woe betide me! for my ambition will lose me!” “Can you regret your victory?” asked Dom Fi’ancesco, scrutinizing Masaniello’s coun tenance. “Tho future terrifiesyne.” “You are embarked in*, a good cause, and have accomplished a glorious revolution. Continue the work you have so well begun, and remain faithful to your principles; ac complish, without hesitation, the mission you have received to free the people of Naples, and heaven will direct 3’our acts, and will give you the force to triumph over every danger.” “Aid me, then, in my enrieavoi*s. Can yoVi not advise me as to what plan I ought to pur sue?” “On leaving you yesterday, Masaniello, I drew up the form of anew constitution. Listen to*it.” And the monk read as follows: “In the name of the Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, and conformably to the pi’inciples of tho Gospel, I, Masaniello, fisherman of Naples and head of the people, declare what follows: “The king of Spain and his descendants have forever forfeited the thr one of Naples. “The form of government will henceforth bo that of a republic founded on election.” Here Masaniello exhibited signs of impa tience. Dom Francesco, however, feigned not to perceive it, and continued: “Every three years a council of ten, charged with tho drawing up of the laws, will be chosen by tho Neapolitan people, all of whom, whatever may be their station or for tune, vr ill have a right to vote. Any Neapol itan is eligible to act in this council. “A chief magistrate, chosen in the same manner, will be charged to watch over the constitution, and to see that tho laws are exe cuted. He will be elected for two years and will take the title of Tribune. “Special laws will pi’ovide for the inde pendence and regularit}* of the elections. “Done, in the name of the Neapolitan peo ple, at the palace of the Vicaria, in the year of our Lord 1647.” “Good, father. But tell me, do you think £aat the king of Spain will allow us to estab lish our republic without defending his rights?” “By tho aid of the people we have van quished him, and by the aid of the people we will vanquish him again.” The fisherman shook his head incredu lously. “Have you not proclaimed from the ter race,” exclaimed tho monk, “that Philip the Fourth has forfeited the crown? You asserted it youi’scTf on the night I guided you to the catacombs, and you cannot now abandon the cause of the people without committing an act of cowardice and infamy.” “Time Is a good counselor, Dom Francesco. The Duke of Arcos occupies the Castel-Nxiovo, tho forti’ess of St. Elmo, and two or three other strongholds; in a few houx*s he could reduce Naples to a heap of ruins, while we have no means of defense.” “Are not the aqueducts cut ofl:? Will not the want of water force the viceroy to sur render?” “But we are without money. I had the Vicaria searched yesterday from top to bot tom, yet nothing was found. I owe Corcelli 20,000 ducats, but 1 do not possess a real. How, then, are we to raise troops, or to ob tain arms?” “Make an appeal to your brothers —the Neapolitans will not refuse to buy their ind - pendenoe with the sacrifice of a few ducats.” “So, then, the revolution, which was brought about through the enormous amount of taxes beneath which tho people groaned, would but double the sums of money hitherto exacted from them. No, no, father; this can not be.” “Everything appears impossible to those who have no longer any faith in their cause,” sorrowfully remarked the monk. “Our fathers wero formerly happy, when they possessed tho charter granted them by Charles the Fifth,” continued Masaniello. “They then loved Spain, and armed them selves in her defense; let us, therefore, insist on the restoration of tho rights which this act gave us, and of which we have been un justly deprived.” “In other terms, you are willing to treat with the viceroy I” “And to restore him that power, the weight of which is crushing me,” added the fisher man. Here the monk approached Masaniello, took the young man’s hand affectionately in his, and, looking him steadfastly in the face, said: “Swear that the recollection of Isabella has had no influence on your conduct. Masa niello, I fear the contrary.” A deep blush spread itself over the young man's face. He stammered out a few words, but Pietro, who entered at this moment, drew him from his embarrassment. The smuggler was; covered with dust and mud; his hair was in disorder, and his face flushed with excitement. His appearance made the monk and Masa niello tremble. “IVhat has happened?” cried the latter. “Brother, prepare your arms,” replied Pietro; “wo have all received a terrible blow r .” “Speak!” “Corcelli has fled, and has left us cause to remember him.” “How so?” “Ho has pillaged the convent ot Santa Chiara.” “But Jeanne—what has become of her?” “He has carried her off.” “Malediction!—and” Masaniello . dared not pronounce the name of Isabella. “The daughter *ol’ the Duke of Arcos has beeu carried off also.” our most formidable enetny is to be found. Corcelli ha-s assembled hi* men at the gate of the Manna, and demands an hour’s pil lage.” “Ah! II Signore Corcelli wants to pillage Naples,” murmured Masaniello. “He wants to recover on terra tirma the ducats swal lowed up by the ocean, but be has no longer to do with his old acquaintance the sbirri of the viceroy, rascals who were ever ready to effect a compromisa He shall leave Naples and her territory to-morrow or l will have him tracked like a wild beast. But are our comrades still in the palace, Pietro/” “Yes.” “Armed?” “To the teeth.” “Good. 1 will see Corcelli As for you, return to the abbey of Santa Cbiara, and tell my sister Jeanne that 1 am in perfect safety. You must not be seen with me, for I want you to keep a watch on these brigands ore night more, and they would mistrust you, if they knew we had l>een together.” “Is there no one else in Naples, Masaniello, who is dear to you/” asked Pietro. “Of whom would you speak/” “Of the young girl who repaired the harm done us by the Duke of Arcosf Masaniello turned pale, and said in a trem bling voice: “Has anything happened to her?” “The people surrounded her carriage and dispersed her escort,” replied Pietro, “at the moment she was leaving the palace. Cor eelli and 1 saved her, and, the Madonna be praised, Isabella is now out of danger, for I have taken her to” “Enough! enough! Pietro!” interrupted the fisherman; “1 neither wish to see this woman again nor to know the place of her retreat; return, therefore, to the abbey and let Isabella be restored to her family; I will join 3 T ou an hour hence.” Masaniello took up his musket, assembled his men, placed himself at their head and left the Vicaria. Ho was triumphantly re ceived by the crowd assembled without, every voice blessed him and every hand sought his. He passed slowly through the enthusiastic multitude, repeating at every step: “Brothel's! let us becalm and moderate in our victory, and show ourselves worthy of the liberty we have just gained. Let us even respect the property and persons of those who have so long devoured the fruits of our labor. Do not let us give our enemies the right to accuse us. Let all pillagers be seized and executed instautly. The power which the people have founded must be re spected.” “Death to all pillagers!” immediately re sounded on all sides. “Paolo,”continued Masaniello, turning to a lazaroni, “take five hundred of your most de termined comrades, and go and occupy the seashore between the harbor and the Marina; do not let a single one of Corcellrs brigands pass. 1 wdl march on them from the oppo site side. These men have some sinister pro ject in view.” While Paolo was executing these orders, Masaniello led an army of fishermen across the market place, passed with them through the gate of the Marina, and advanced toward Corcelli’s undisciplined horde of banditti. “Follow me,” said he to the captain, and he led him into a neighboring tavern. “Corcelli,” added ho to the condottiere, “you served us usefully this morning.” “Yes,” replied Corcelli, “1 do not think that, without me, you would have put the Spaniards to flight with your oranges, pome granates and watermelons.” “We must now think of restoring order among the people, whose worst passions are let loose.” “Halloo! why you’ve soon learned the lan guage of his excellency, Monsignore the Duke of Arcos. Per Bacco! With .your torn hose, red sash and dirty jacket, you.make a charm ing little viceroy!” “Laugh as much as you like, Corcelli, but rest assured that you will not leave Naples alive, unless you obey the orders of the little viceroy who so much delights you.” “Diavolo! if you want to be obe}'ed, you ought at least to pay, my fine fellow; but now that the galleon of Fernandez has blown up, where are all the ducats you promised us? To what blockhead did you intrust this ex pedition? Oh! if I had been there! But you mistrusted me, Masaniello.” “Your men will be paid.” “But how, mio caro?” “That concerns me.” “And what concerns me, carissimo, is to take care that the doublets of my men are riot riddled with balls, unless 1 see some means of being able to replace them.” “What do you propose doing, then?” “You are ignOrant of the laws of war, my dear Masaniello, for you have never waged it but against the doradoos and turbots of the bay. When a king, or a duke, or the smallest baron possible, has employed the services of a free company, and when he is unable to pay their captain, do you know what is the means the latter has recourse to in order to fill the bellies of his men?” “No.” “Well, then, he pillages the people of the said king, duke or baron. And, by St. Jan uarius, 1 will treat you as a viceroy, Masa niello.” “And, by the holy Madonna, I will have you hanged in the market place.” Corcelli burst into a loud laugh. “Sangue di Cristo!” exclaimed he, “the Neapolitans have done a fine thing. They have now got a ragged fisherman for their master, instead of a Spanish grandee in an embroidered doublet.” “Aud the will of the people shall be more respected than was that of the king in velvet doublet, aud whose *yoke we have just shaken oil,” said Masaniello. He here led tho brigand to the window of the tavern. “Look!” continued he; “the shore is cov ered with armed men. Your soldiers are PM f\— fj \ £ir&\ • "Look!” continued he; “the shor<f7s~cov cred with armed men” surrounded by a circle of iron. On a word or a sign from me you would all be mas sacred.” “Sacramento! we have been betrayed.” “Leave Naples instantly, and as soon as order is re-established I will pay you 20,000 ducats on your quitting the Neapolitan ter ritory.” Corcelli seemed to understand the danger which menaced him. for he immediately pre pared to obey Masaniello’s orders. As soon as the bandits had disappeared Masaniello set out for the abbey, where Pietro was waiting for him. When he arrived he found thenbbess ready to receive him. and he was immediately con ducted to his sister “Oh! welcome, welcome, my dear brother,” said Jeanne, “the Lord has chosen you r<> ac complish great things, and 1 am proud to be called your sister.” Masaniello smiled gently “Yes, we have accomplished great things,” said Masaniello, “but 1 feel myself almost unequal to the arduous du’.ies 1 have to ful fill” “Courage, brother, courage! Providence never abandons those engaged in a good cause, " added Jeanne, “but the daughter of the viceroy is here.” “Isabella herel” exclaimed Masaniello. “You must see and console her, for mis fortune has fallen o*Tier family and she is in the greatest despair.” [TO BK CONTINUE!!.] YOUR EARS Ought to have attention perhaps. If so, B. 11. B. will do you good, removing all ignorant matter, the direct cause of deafness. Witness the following testi monies: COULD HEAD A TICK CRAWL. Mr. C. E. Hall wrote from Shelby, Ala., Febuary 9, ISBT: “1 could not hear it thunder. I heard of B. B. 8.. used two bottles, and now can hear a tick crawl in the leaves. “i GAVE UP TO DIE.” Knoxville, Tenn., July 2, 1887 i had catarrh of the head for six years. I went to a noted doctor and he treated me for it, out could not cure me, he said. 1 w as over fifty years old and gave up to die. 1 had a distressing cough; my eyes were swollen apd I am confident 1 could not have lived without a change. I sent and got one bottle of your medicine, used it, and felt better. Then 1 got four more, and thank God! it cured me. Use this any way you may wish for the good of sufferers. Mas. Matilda Nichols, 22 Florida Street. A PREACHER CURED OF DYSPEPSIA.**??* Miccosukee, Fla., Leon Cos.. Jul.v 20, *BO I have been a sufferer from indigestion and.-dyspepsia for a long time, and have tried many remedies, but until 1 was in duced by my friends to try your B. 11. B. received no relief, but since using it have found more relief and comfort than from any other treatment I have used. Hop ing you will forward to my address your little 32-page book for prescription, also evidence of cures. Send at earliest date. llev. Roii’t C. A BOOK OF WONDERS, FREE. ZZZ All who desire full information about the cause and cure of Blood Poisons, Scrofula and Scrofulous Swellings, Fleers, Sores, Rheumatism, Kidney Complaints, Catarrh, etc., can secure by mail, free, a copy of our 82-page Illustrated Rook of Wonders, filled with the most wonderful and startling proof ever before known.. Address, Blood Balm Cos., 9 6-lm Atlanta, Ga. You will have no use for spectacles if you use I)r. J. IT. McLean’s Strengthen ing Eye Salve; it removes the film and scum which accumulates on the eyeballs, subdues inflammation, cools and soothes the irritated nerves, strengthens weak and failing sight. 2oc. a box. 96-3n If you suffer pricking pains on moving the eyes, or cannot bear bright light, and find your sight weak and failing, you should promptly use Dr. J. H. McLean’s Strengthening Eye Salve. 25 emits a box. G-8-3m Tlteir Jlusi. Booming. Probably no one thine has caused such a general revival of trade at Wikle’s Drug Store as their giying away to their custo mers of so many free trial bottles of Dr. King’s New Discovery for Consumption. Their trade is simply enormous in this very va liable article from the fret t hat it always cures and never disappoints. Coughs, Colds, Asthma,Bronchitis, Croup, and all throat and lung diseases quickly cured. You can test it before buying by getting a trial bottle free, large size sl. Every bottle warranted. 3 The First Symptom* of Death. Tired ieeliner, dull headache, pains in vaiious parts of the body, sinking at the pit of the stomach, loss ot appetite, fever ishness, pimples or sores, are all positive evidence of p< i3oned blood. N) matter how it become poisoned it must be puri fied to avoid death. Acker’s English Blood Elixir has never faikd to remove scrofulous or syphilitic poisons. Sold under positive guarantee by J. R. Wikle & Cos. e o a lilectrie Hitters. This remedy is becoming so well known and so popular as to need no special men tion. All who have used Electric Bitters sing ti e same song of praise.—A purer medicine docs not exist and it is guaran teed to do all that is claimed. Electric Bitters will cure all diseases of the Liver and Kidneys, will remove impure blood.— Will drive Malaria from the system and prevent as well as cure all Malarial fevers. —For cure . of Headache, Consumption and Indigestion try Electric Bdters— Entire satisfaction guaranteed, or money refunded. —Price 50 cts. and 00 per bo tie at Wikle’s Drug Store. 5 Children Cry For It. The pleasant taste and agreeable aro ma of Delectalave make its use attrac tive to children at well as to adults. Early impress the child with the impor tance of good teeth. Spare it the suffer ing of decayed teeth by proper care and attention. Keep its mouth clean and in a healthy state by using Delectalave. For sale by all Druggists, Parents Criminally Liable. More than half of all deaths occur be fore six years of age. An arrnv of inno cent, lovely children are swept needlessly away each year. Parents are criminally responsible for this. The death rate o children in England is less than half this Acker’s English Baby Soother has done more to bring this about than all other causes combined. Yofi cannot afford to be without it. Sold by J. R. Wikle & Cos. e o w Sick headache, wind on' the stomach, biliousness, nausea, are promptly and agreeably banished by Dr. J. H. McLean t s Little Liver and Kidney Pillets. 25c. a vial. ______ nl *^ For lame uaca, &iue or chest, use Shi loh’s Porous Plaster. Price 25 cents. For sale by J. R. Wikle & Cos., Carters ville, and j. M. Gray, Adairsvillle. n290ml