A Night on the Borders of the Black Forest

ollowing the first Sunday in Advent, and still quite early. None were reading, or attempting to read. The newspape

ill bestir itself in earnest this time," said a bald-

est neighbour. "When you have lived in Rome as long as myself, you will cease

e of this e

ally when the sufferers are in a humble station of

er gentleman. "There is nothing like public spirit to be found

seem, unless one can pay for

re was that case of the young bride who was murdered last Winter in the Palazzo Bardello. Her husband o

agic affair," said the bald-headed English

ept over his face, and he broke

"I feel as if I were on t

dear fellow," laughed S

these murders had been co

, I should thi

mprobable," a

smothered the princes in

s: they are almost identical. In each case the victim is stabbed to the heart; in each case the wound is almost imperceptibly small. There is no effusi

at the further end of the room with his back to the speakers; "but will you have t

of the narrow lanes near

tim is a Rom

d of Roma

chi

only eleven years of age, and th

took out hi

arcellus," he said, sc

shocking and mys

mmaseo. Many than

strode from the room, and v

fellow," said the first sp

rribly ill,"

t the name has altogether escaped my memory. Good heavens! it is Mr. Girdles

tico of Octavia and the Theatre of Marcellus. There was a crowd before the door, and a dismounted dragoon pacing up and down with his sabre under his arm. Over the shop window was suspended a board, on which were inscribed, in faded re

ouse, and our hearts leaped for joy to hear it. We shall never hear that voice again-never, never more, till we hear it in heaven! He is dead! He is dead, and the blessed Virgin has him in her care. But his murderer lives. Oh Dio, hear it! Hear it, O blessed mother of God! Hear it, th

," said the dragoon, interposing his per

ertain slip of paper signed by the chief of the police. It was at

laid out upon a narrow pallet strewn with immortelles and set round with lighted candles. The father, a sickly-looking man, with eyes red and swollen from weeping, was sitting upon a low stoo

d sympathy. The woman never stirred. The man took his pipe from his mouth, rose re

eard. This Padre Lorenzo had taken an especial affection for the little Stefanino, and had himself prepared the boy for his first communion. And he took it only yesterday morning-took it at the church of Il Gesù, from the hands of Monsignore di Montalto. It was a long ceremony. There were six hundred children present, and their Stefanino wa

ad promised to listen if he should wake or call for anything; and she was a good soul, and had children of her own. Ebbene, they stayed out somewhat late-later than usual, for the neighbour in the Via Fiumara had her married daughter spending the evening with her, and they stayed gossiping till past ten o'clock. Then they came home. The

d after a few minutes they went to look at him. He was very pale; but then he had gone through a day of great fatigue and excitement, and was unusually tired. They never dreamed, a

ative, the poor baker fairly broke dow

he sobbed. "He was

od," said Hug

, a worldly, a careless, perhaps even a somewhat hard man; and he had no words of ready co

im so much as we wanted h

e floor, apparently unconscious of all that was

our when I brought him into the world, and he is not more theirs in heaven than he was theirs on earth. B

red the wound-just such a tiny puncture, with just such a ghastly hal

k upon it. He shuddered

anyone whom you sus

on

you an

r shook

ied. "I am at peace wi

to enter the hous

e, Sig

maker's wife

what

e been robbe

value of a

med doubly impenetrable, and his double task doubly hopeless. He turned again to the little be

white silk scarf fringed with gold which

t up, and covered it

zo gave it to him. Alas! alas! how beautiful he looked, dressed in all his best, with new buckles in his shoes

rdlestone. "He taught the child, you

he kno

woman had sunk down again upon

en to see

ning to pray for the repos

um

detected the shade of disap

," he said, eagerly. "All Rom

e to be fou

nt of the Ges

a Jes

so young-so young! A holier man does not live. Though his bo

these Jesuits are keen and far-sighted; at all events, it is worth the effort.

ore!" exclaimed the poor father, humbly attempting to kiss

hman snatched

"I have my own motive-my own

e, half deprecation, ha