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rVi K . ' ?. ' . 4* . c *>. -/,? > *- ^r-^v-i fe\ # . .? ' ; ^ ' "'^" ' lewis m. aaisT, Proprietor.} An Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. j?2 pee aneum ih advabce. . ) ? -i ~ _ ~ ? ? " VOL. 6. YORKYILLB, S. O., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 25, I860. NO. 43. ??? i ????????? Original |3oefn. For the Vorkville Enquirer. TO IONE. BY JAS. WOOD DAVIDSON. My Beautiful!? I've sought through all the realms Of modern song; have conned each word and phrase Of Doble passion's purest prayer; have weighed Their richest gems, and sought the fairest flowers Fond Fancy ever laid within the fanes Of earth's most perfect loves. My Beautiful !? I've coursed the classic streams of ancient lore From her of Lesbos down till silence fell In later days on Greece, to gather all The pearls of love that Aphrodite won, The purest and the best. My Beautiful!? I've dreamed with Eastern bards in gorgeous bowers Of Imagery, ornate with Orient flowers, From roseate sighs of Jami's lyre to grand Hyperboles of Hatifi?those true Bold children of the sun. My Beautiful!? The modern, ancient orient?all?have told The all that human speech can sing or say. But not the best of those, nor all of them, Were all there fires at once fused in one jet Of living light and flame, could make a star? A tiny starlet?to compare with this The summer sun of love I bring thee now, My Beautiful. Nor yet, were all their wild And wondrous worship centered in one prayer, Condensed into a single word, that word Were not a title for the volumed love My soul would read thee now, my Beautiful! Columbia, S. C. Jn Original ^lorg. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. ST. PIERRE, THE MOUNTEBANK; OR, THE PREDICTION. , A Romance of the Empire, under Catharine, II. BY R. B. RUSSELL. THE MOUNTEBANK'S HISTORY. I was bom in April, 1734, just sixty-one years ago, in the city of St. Petersburg.? Of ray iofant days I need say nothing, save that being the eldest son of my father, I was treated with great distinction. I resided about forty miles from here on the old family estate; and then time passed monotonously enough until my sixteenth year. One warm day in August, as we, that is,! the family, were seated on the balcony, we1 heard the sound of music; and on looking up the road saw a party of mountebanks j approaching. As I expressed a great desire to see them perform, io which wish I no oKIn coftAuilnf] Ktt run KrntKnr onrl cie_l ttao auijf ctwuuvu uj uwvi 0*0ter, my father, who never refused me anything, sent one of the servants to invite them to the house. They come, pitched their tent on the green, and began their performances. I was astonished at their wonderful feats of strength and agility, delighted with their ciose fitting, bright spangled dresses, and heartily wished at length that I was one of thcui. When the performance was over, my father liberally rewarded them, and they went away. All that afternoon my brother and I talked of nothing but the mountebanks, and we endeavored to imitate their feats. As I was unusually strong and active for a boy of my age, I succeeded better than any of them; and my parents, who witnessed my gambols on the green, told me it would only take a c . o . n year or two or practice ior me to surpass an of the band. Ah ! these words! I pondered over them the whole evening; and, restless and uneasy, was unable to close my eyes with thinking of them. So passed the night; day dawned, and I formed the resolution?not strange, perhaps, in one so young?of leaving my father and mother, brother and sister, friends and servants, even that stately mansion, my own dear delightful home, in which I had passed so many happy hours, and which I knew would be mine some day, and all that I might become one of the merry brotherhood. The next evening unbeknowns to my parents, I left the house; and two days afterward, under another name, I was a member of the strolling band. Six years passed away. We travelled from place to place with varied success, mostly bad ; and one by one the band decreased through disease, intemperance, and death, and of the twelve but too remained, Gustave and myself. He was a young fellow of about my age, and I loved him dearly. I told him my name and history, and he advised me to return home.I did so, taking him with me as a friend and companion. How all was changed ! My parents were dead, my brother and sister separated; and, as all believed me dead, my brother Cozain was looked upon as the count. My return, so unexpected and sudden, was hailed with delight; and no one was more overjoyed to see me than my brother, who never for a moment thought that my return stripped him of the title i . . . xr __ o anu estate. ixo, no, ue uuu iuu muu ? heart for that! A few months after ray return he went to serve in the army as a soldier. "Rapidly he rose in his profession, aodat length became a general. The empress bestowed on him the title and estates of the deceased Prince de Radetsky, who had died without heirs; and this obliged him to assume the arms and family name ?Galetzon?of the former race. He married not long afterward ; his wife died in giving birth to Amy, and he survived her loss only twelve months, leaving Ranel, my eldestson, herguardian. This was several years after I had disappeared; but I must not anticipate. {I married at nineteen, and at twenty-one was the father of two boys. Two years afterward the countess died, and although I had passed many happy hours in her society, I resolved never to wed again. My boys now occupied all my care Fortunately a female relative took up her residence with me, and I found her of great assisttance. <As time hung heavily on my hands, I went to court and offered my services to the Empress. She received me with pleasure, for Cozain, who was then a colonel, and one of her favorites, had spoken to her of me; and being pleased with my appearance and address, she appointed me Paul's tutor, remaining such many years. But at length she suspected uie of conspiring against her, and I was ordered to return to my estate. I did so and found every body well and happy. 'One morning on inquiring for my sons, I was informed that they bad gone to hunt in a neighboring forest, and would not return till nightfall. I resolved to join them, and taking my gun I set out. On reaching the wood I heard voices; and on looking between the trees I saw Ranel and Thomas seated on the grass, and engaged in earnest conversation. Out of mere curiosity I listened, and, to my horror, learned the re ports of my disloyalty had been spread abroad by my sons in the hope that the Empress would either send me to Siberia, or hand me over to the executioner. As this wicked scheme had failed, they were now plotting my death. I hurried home, resolved to fly at once to the Empress and reveal every thing; but the violence of my feelings brought on a fever, which confined me to my bed and for many days I was insensible.? In my ravings I cursed my sons, and Gustave, who attended me, speedily gathered from my incoherent words what had happened. He was alarmed for mv safetv. and I ? ?J J > resolved to acquaint Paul with my situation. Accordingly he requested Demetrius to take charge of me; and at nightfall saddled a horse and rode to the city. One hour after his departure my wicked sons rushed into the room, and despite Demetrius' entreat ies, plunged their daggers iuto my breast; a moment afterward Pietro stabbed the poor servant. What followed is quickly 'told I was lifted up, carried to the cliff which overlooks the Neva, and flung into ! the river. It was dark as pitch, and I fell j beside the boat of a fisherman, who, astonJ ished at the sudden splash in the water and thinking some one had accidentally fallen off the cliff, caught me ere I sunk, and dragged me into the boat. Fortunately he had a lantern with him, and discovering my situation, he staunched my wounds with his shirt; and knowing that no time was to be lost, he immediately rowed across the river, landing at tne very moment a second [splash announced the fate of my poor ser[ vant. He took us to his hut, bound up my wounds, and gave me a cordial which revived me. As I had recovered my senses just a few minutes before my sons entered, I was well aware of what had occurred; and 1 after swearing my preserver to secrecy, I told him every thing, requesting him when i I finished, to send for a surgeou on whom I 1 could rely. He did so, and after many weary months I recovered. Gustave, as I afterward learned, od reaching the city, found that the imperial family was at Moscow; and knowing that nothing could be done he returned. On inquiring for me, Rauel informed him that I had been carried away the night before by a party of men acting under a warrant of the Empress, and that Demetrius, pitying my condition, had accompanied me The fellow guessed at once what had happened, but he never whispered his suspicions to any one; and as he appeared to be satisfied 1 with the explanation, he was suffered to re-1 main. His intention was to await the Em | press' return, and then accuse them of the murder. j 'One evening about sis months after my ! supposed death, as he was walking near the ; banks of the river, he was met by a fisherI man?no other than my preserver aud host j?who inquired his name, and on hearing it, told him that if he would accompany him i to his hut, he would learn some news of his former master. Eagerly he obeyed. I need not relate to you the joy of our meetiug, nor the horror he evinced on hearing the details of the attempted parricide. In reply to my inquiries, he told me the Empress was expected to return every day; and asked whether I intended to punish my sons for the murder of poor Demetrius.? After much thought I replied in the uega tive, resolving to leave their fate in the hands of heaven j for wicked thongh they were, I still loved them. The following week the Empress returned, and the very next day a decree was published, banishing myself and many others for life. This of j course changed whateverplans I had formed for the future, and at length I resolved to leave the country for awhile and pursue my old profession, which I still loved as fondly as ever. But i could not depart without seeing my former pupil, Paul; and Gustave, reading my thoughts, got him to visit me. At his advice I took up my residence in the imperial palace as his secreta: ry, meeting the Empress nearly every day; but the great change in my appearance detied every chance of recognition, for I was not only disguised, but ray long illness, as | well as the pernicious effects of the drug i which I coustautly used, would have made my own mother disown me, had she been living. It was nothing, however, to what I am now, for when I saw Paul three months since, eveu he did not know me. So I boldly met the gaze of my sons whenever I met them ; and went so far as to offer them my services, which they accepted; and I actually remained with them several months. When the imperial family went to Vienna, Paul pressed me to accompany him ; I did so, aud at his request was a witness of the marriage of the Duke de Leipsic to the Princess Maria. Here we remained some seven or eight months, and then the family returned to St. Petersburg. 'But time is passing, and I must hasten to conclude my tale. My son Thomas offered his services to the Empress about three years afterward, and she of late, having had her suspicion excited against her ' daughter?the Duke her husband, having 1 foolishly visited her almost openly, and ta- t ken very little pains to disguise himself, t was recognized by the servants?she set t him to watch her, and well did he fulfil her 1 commands. It was a long time before he found any proof to criminate her; but s Charles of Leipsic, who .was as rash as he was brave, again returned ; and, despite the Grand-Duke's remonstrance, persisted in 1 seeing the Princess; and even remained a ' concealed inmate of the palace for five days, c A few words which the Princess incautious1 Tf ^pnnnofl +r\ Ann nf f Vi offnn^nnfa in f.Ko T 'J presence of my son, set him on the track, s The Duke returned to Russia, Thomas re- v lated all he heard to the Empress; and Maria fled to Moscow, to which city I had ta- c ken her son, then a boy of two years.? Paul visited his sister several times bringing his son with him; and at length believing Catharine's suspicion's to be lulled, s he advised her to return. Alack! fatal 1 day ! would she had never gone or died on i the way! Charles returned ; and one week 1 afterward the unhappy lovers were no more ; ( Maria dying in prison, and her husband ) being assassinated. Gustave, who, at my advice, still remained with Ranel, over- 1 heard a conversation between the brothers, ( and soon learned that Thomas was the as- 1 sassin of the Duke and the gaoler of the 1 unhappy Princess. At Paul's advice I took 1 charge of the boy; and resuming my i mountebank profession, I wandered through ? the greater part of Europe, remaining about eleven years, receiving occasionally a letter from Gustave who noted faithfully every < thing that took place. He it was who, I when the Count told him to find a person t who could act the part of a fortune teller, bade him secure my services. And thus, < my friend, I have given you a rapid but < true sketch of the mouutebank's history." ; t Long and deep was the conversation < that now passed between Saint Pierre and 1 [van. When it was over, the former smil- t ed the smile of one who anticipated a speedy reward for all the sufferings he had un dergone; and stretching himself out on 1 his humble cot, in a few minutes was asleep. < Hours passed on. Two, three, four, halfpast four o'clock struck; and Ivan, who 1 had been sleeping soundly, awoke with a start for one moment his eyes swept 1 keenly round the room ; and then rising, he walked hurriedly to the bed on which the mountebank was lying. j 'My lord,' he said, touching him lightly on the shoulder, 'awake, awake ! the hour r has come.' Saint Pierre lay motionless for a moment, a as though he had half forgotten where he c was; and then slowly rose. r 'Is it so late ?' he asked. 'It is, my lord,' replied Ivan. The t clock has just struck half-past four, and? <j Hark! he is comiug.' Hist! Pretend to i sleep; and stepping lightly back to his j stool he again seated himself, and buried t his face in his hands. Soon the door was e opened and Pietro entered, bearing a lan- f tern, a gag, and a long black bag, iu which clunked an iron chain. t 'Hallo: Ivan ! sleeping I he exclaimed, a rousing him with his foot. 'A pretty way j to keep watch?this !' Ivan sprang up.? ? 'What will the couDt say when he hears of it? What are you looking at me for in s that threatening manner, fool? Sot down v the lantern and hold the bag for me; and t be quick about it. Here, take this gag.? Come, Saint Pierre,' he said, shaking the j cot with his foot, 'the time has expired.? Rouse up, man, rouse up! The carriage is! here and the headman's ready. What is J your answer?' 'This!' thundered Ivan, seizing the bag with both hands, and dealing him a tremen dous blow on the head, which felled him instantly to the floor. 'That settles you, I c hope,' he said, as be threw down the bag. ( 'Now, my lord, lock the door inside, while \ I take off his clothes; and do you throw off f yours. Be quick, for we have not a mo- v ment to lose!' Pictro groaned. D?n e you ! See if that will stop your noise !' he continued as he thrust the gag into his i mouth. And with great rapidity he di- c vested the unfortunate man of his clothes, c and replacing them with the mountebank's, g 'Well, you do look like him,' he said, y when Saint Pierre had fiuished attiring f himself. 'Draw the rim of your hat farther over your eyes. That will do. Now for our friend here.' And so quick was Ivan l about his task, that in less than five minutes Pietro was attired in the mountebank's d dress, and his arms tied tightly behind him; and all that remained for him to do c was to draw the bag over his head. This (j was quickly done; and then Ivan, after fc warning Saint Pierre not to utter a word, r grasped the lantern with one hand, and \ aided by the mountebank, carried the almost inanimate body through the landing ] and up the stone steps, through the court r yard, to a carriage, round which stood a (j number of mounted dragoons. Both step- t ped in ; the governor handed Ivan the war- r rant; the door was closed; the windows flung up; the coachman mounted nis box ; t the dragoons surrounded the carriage, and it drove off. s 'How lucky it is still raining,' whispered a Ivan to Saint Pierre. 'It ought to be light now, but the dark clouds keep back the c sun. Well, my dear Pietro, how do you t get along ?' i The man groaned. ? 'Ah ! that's the music I like to hear,' said Ivan. 'Listen to me Pietro, you are 1 about to die, you who were the cause of s iny Minnie's death ; and no power on earth ? can save you. Attempt to remove your t bands, and I'll plunge this dagger into your heart. 'Tis the same one which Min- i nie used, and which I have kept nine long 1 years for your sake. I have been very patient in waitiog so loDg, dear Pietro, have I not?' 'Silence !' whispered the mountebank.- ? 'The coachman may hear you.' I 'What if he does ?' said Ivan, ferociously. This man is my foe?mine?mine ! and !'ll not be debarred the pleasure of tornenting him. Curse you! be exclaimed, i vith a burst of passion, and grasping Piero by the throao; 'hell-hound what right lad you to touch her?' In heaven's name, Ivan !' will you be lilentl'said the inountekank fearfully alarmid at his loud tone. 'Silent! and my foe in my power?' said "van, as he grasped his knife tightly.? n i n.' i it t_ j t.i L;urse you; jrietro : ue cneu ueiweeu mo denched teeth, 'If I thought?' 'For my sake, Ivan !' cried Saint Piere, 'be calm. Remember he is but the :ervant, while the master still lives!? vould you be aveoged on him only ?' 'No, by heavens ! no!' said Ivan, more ;almly. 'One will not satisfy me. Both ?ay, both must die.' The carriage stopped. 'Ah, we are there at last,' said Ivan, ipeaking in his usual tone; and nought but lis eyes showing the fearful passion that aged withi n his breast. 'Come, my friend,' le said, as the carriage door opened as the :oachman appeared, 'come forth and meet four doom.' A gurgling sound burst from Pietrc's ips, and he struggled fearfully to burst the lords that bound him. It was in vain.? Ere he was aware of it, perhaps, he was lorne up the steps of the soatfold, and his lead laid on the block. At that very monent the gag fell from his lips, and he sprang to his feet. 'Hold !' fce exclaimed. This is a mis?' 'Strike him down !' cried the officer of iragoons, who had received orders from she Count not to permit the prisoner to speak. 'Down with him, I say !' 'Stand clear, all of you!' exclaimed the jxecutiouer, as he raised the heavy axe iver his head. Pietro sprang back and peiiea wnaiy. ine neaasman maae one itep forward?like lightning his axe cleavid the air, sinking deep into the brain of ;he unfortunate man?sending him in a iioment before his Maker, with "All his sins and imperfections on his head." 'This is terrible !' cried Saint Pierre, as ie beheld the scene and turning away with iigust. 'What would you have V said Ivan coldy. 'It wu9 either your life or his.' 'True.' was the reply, 'and he deserved lis fate. But what are we to do now ?' 'Whatever you may think best my lord.' The mountebank mused deeply for severil moments. 'You are sure that the body will not be ecognised V he asked. 'They will not take the trouble to exituinc it,' replied Ivan. 'In fact,' he adled, with a laugh, 'they have already buried it.' Tf iito n trim rrr Vi 11 ?\ f V\ tt knon ib wno wuc, jj?cu r/uuc tucj unu uccu alking, the executioner's assistants had lug a hole beneath the scaffold not two feet n depth, and into this the body had been >laced, the dirt shoveled around it; and hey were now engaged in stamping the >arth down and carrying away the superluous dirt. 'Well, I think on the whole I shall go o the palace, and see if Paul has returned,' aid the mountebank. 'Do you return to rour master and give him your report of the ixecution. 'Ay, and I'll give him something else ihortly,' muttered Ivan. 'I will do as you vish, my lord.' said he aloud; 'and so, for he present, adieu !' 'Adiou,' said Saint Pierre; and they jarted. CHAPTER XI. T II E TEMPTATION. " 'Tis much he dares ; And to the dauntless temper of his mind, He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valor To act in safety." Again we take the reader to the imperial :abinct, where we find Alexander and }ount de Motier seated at the same table at rhich we saw them before. The Count's eatures wore a triumphant expression, rhile the Duke's looked more hopeful than iver. 'Yes, my lord,'said the former, 'thetrain s well laid now j there is not the slightest ihanee of failure. You have only to wed ny ward, and I pledge you my word as a :entleman and Count of the empire, that rou, instead of your father, will succeed the impress.' 'Without bloodshed V 'Without bloodshed, on your part, as I lave often told you.' 'Yet you refuse to tell mo how it is to be lone.' 'Why should I ?' said the Count. 'Is it lot enough for you to know that all will be lone by the Empress herself? As to Amy,' le added, 'you must visit her again this 1 light. Indeed, she is most anxiously a- 1 raiting your appearance.' 'Yet the last time I visited her,' said the )uke, 'she did not appear pleased to see oe in the le:i3t. She did not smile once 1 luring the whole interview; and if I mis- 1 ake not, she hinted once or twice that my oora was better than my company.' The Count could not forbear smiling at ' he reply. 'That of course,' he said, shrugging his 1 houlders. 'You forget the girl is timid md needs encouragement.' 'Encouragement!' repeated the Duke, ipening his eyes. 'Good heavens! if that vas all she nseded, I gave her enough of 1 t.' De Moner laughed. 'She said she lever loved me.' 'Never loved you !' exclaimed the Count. Why, 'twas but this very day she told me i ihe loved you better than any one. But firls are so bard to read ! They say one hingand mean another.' 'Upon my soul, I believe you are deceivng me,' said Alexander. She told me Bhe oved another.' 'And you believed her?' 'Of course.' 'Well, even if she does, as you say, love mother; is that to interfere with the cerenony ?' 'You would not have me wed an unwilling bride ?' 'I would have you wed Amy, my lord,' said the Count, 'since by that marriage, you will gain a orown What if the lady does not love you ?' he enquired. What is that to you ? Love will come soon enough after marriage. Have you forgotten the mountebank's prediction ?' he said sternly. 'You mustmarry her, or Ishalltakeno further steps to secure the crown for you.' 'But what will the Empress say when she hears of it?' said Alexander dou'otingly. 'She will never know it.' 'Still I would like to know how you intend to proceed,' said the Duke, after a moment's pause. 'That the lady is beautiful, I cheerfully acknowledge; that she will make me a good, if not a happy wife, I do not doubt in the least; but as it is, we do not love each other. Yet I am willing to take her as my partner for life, providing I am assured that by so doing I shall gain the crown. I know, de Moner, he continued, seeing that the Count was about to speak, 'I know you are a man capable of accomplishing almost any thing; and I do not believe you would seek to entrap me into marrying your ward merely for the sake of having me as a relative. But I want proof ?I want to be assured that by making her my wife the crown will be mine?and yet you refuse to give me that proof. What am I to think of it then? Pshaw ! I need not ask the question.' 'And you refuse to wed my ward, unless you see or know these proofs?' inquired the Count. 'That is it exactly, but in fewer words ' wa9 the reply. 'Well, you shall hear them,' said de Moner, after a pauBC. 'I presume,' he continued, 'you have often heard the Empress speak of the Duke de Leipsic, formerly Prussian ambassador to the Court of Russia, and who was assassinated in this city many years ago ?' 'Often?that is, of late,' replied the Duke. 'Why it was only this morning she made my father swear that he would never erect a monument over his grave, nor that of the Princess Maria. 'Some three or four years before he came here,' continued the Count, 'the Empress, then on a visit to Vienna, with ber family, you an infant, among them, and traveling incognito, made his acquaintance. He was a very handsome man ; had a winuing voice and smile, and won the hearts of all who saw nim. Among tne gentlemen ne was renowned for his skill in the use of arms; among the ladies for his devotion to their sex. And yet the Duke was no libertine; his heart was too noble for that. Catharine, a woman of violent passions, old as she was, saw him and loved. She sought to win his heart; but the duke, who had disliked her from the first, avoided her. One night they met at a ball; she made overtures toward him. which he refused to accept. From that moment she hated him with a burning hatred which time, and even his death, have not quenched. He refused to accept the mother as his mistress, but he fell in love with the Princess Maria, ber daughter. After being absent eight months, the royal party returned to St. Petersburg. Several years passed, when it was reported to the empress that the Duke of Leipsic had entered the city in disguise, had remained for several days a concealed inmate of the imperial palace; and moreover, it was said, that that was not his first visit. Maria was summoned tn Vipp Tippflpnpp ?nrt nnpsfinnpf} hut hpp pp rm? t ?~; *w plies were so unsatisfactory, that the suspicions of Catharine were awakened ; and the princess, to escape her wrath, fled to Moscow, and remained with an humble merchant several months. Meantime, the duke, suspecting nothing, returned home and secured the post of ambassador to the Russian court. He had not been there more than a month ere Maria returned; and what followed is quickly told. The princess, consumptive and almost dying, was thrust into prison ; and the duke assassinated.' 'Well?' said Alexander, seeing that he paused. 'It has been said that Maria was poisoned,' continued the count; 'but it was not so. She died of consumption; and her death was hastened, no doubt by her flight, and the dampness of the dungeon. My poor brother knew the whole history of the affair?perhaps took a part in it.' fAh!' nripd -A lpTonrlor thinlrincr nf hia ? > b second meeting with the mountebank, 'this explained his agitation?' 'What?' 'Nothing. Go on.' 'Have you never heard the empress, when speaking of them, declare that if it should ever be proved there was a marriage, she would execute all who were concerned in it, both priest and witnesses V 'I have.' 'And do you believe that if the certificate of marriage were placed before her, she would keep her word V 'I do.' 'But if Paul was present?if he signed the certificate as a witness?what then ?' 'She would execute him as well as the rest.' 'And you would not seek to save him ?' 'Why should I ? It would be the empress' guilt, not mine.' 'Then you, his son, would succeed the empress V 4TV1 VlP Qtiro VAll CO X7 <1 say Paul was present at the coremony ?that he signed the certificate?that he gave the bride away.' 'But where?where is it ?' In a place where I can procure it at any time.' Then I shall beempeior after all!' cried Alexander exultingly. <Joy ! the mountebank was no false prophet! Yes, yes !' he continued, 'I will marry Amyl I will follow your advice! Do any thing with me youwishnow. Command me, I am yours !' The door opened and Remoul entered. <What is it ?' inquired the duke, who saw by his features that something serious had occurred. 'Bad news, my lord,' was the reply.? 'The empress is rapidly sinking, and will not live through the night. She is already insensible.' 'Perdition !' exclaimed tho count, thrusting his nails deep into his flesh, and starting to his feet. 'Dying and ere my plans are ripened !' 'All is lost, I'm afraid,' said Alexander, also rising. 'Lost at the very moment when success was about to crown our efforts" 'Lost!' repeated the count, that single word restoring him to himself. 'No, all is not lost! Alone?alone I'll cope singlehanded with the grim spectre, and, like the pilot, carry you safely through this storm! My wealth?my life?my soul? that I succeed ! Lost! while there is life there is hope ! Fool! follow my advice, til Ml . 11 TTT t A i.L!_ ana an win yet go wen. >vea Amy mis night?within the hoar?and I swear to do as I have promised. Qaick, my lord duke, not a moment is to be lost! Your answer V But?' 'Damnation !' roared the Count, furiously j 'will you decide or not? Every moment is preoious! Remember, you are playing with a crown now as a boy with air bubbles?once lost, and it can never be recovered !' 'Enough, de Moner, I consent, as?' 'No more ! Fly?get your hat and go with me to my house ! Minutes, ah, seconds, count now! To-morrow we shall kneel to you as the emperor. Now, Remoul,' be continued, as the Duke darted trom the room, and turning hurriedly to the physician?'now, Remoul, cannot you give the Empress some powerful rnedicai tnent or cordial, that will revive he* for an hour?' 'I can,' replied the physician, 'but for an hour only.' You are sure V 'Perfectly, my lord.' 'And your reward shall be a duke dom, if I succeed,' said the other ; 'When shall I give it?now ?' 'No, no, not till I return,' replied the vjouot. 'Are you sure sne win last tin morning ?' 'Not if the draught be given ner, my lord. She will live but one hour after it; but the sooner she takes it, the better it is for your purpose.' 'Have you seen Paul yet?' 'No; but I ara informed he is in bis room.' 'Do not call him for at least ten minutes,' said the Count. 'I will see Amy and the Duke on their way to the church, and then return. Go?or stay?send Henri to me i initantly !' ?I will, my lord,' and he disappeared. For a few minutes after his departure the Count paced up and down the room like a madman, bis teeth clenched, and breathing short and quick. Several times he dashed his clenched fist against his foreI.n.rl In th n orrrtnu nf i mnutianao Knf qq UV/UU iu tiitv pw v * ui uuw j www v*?v the boy entered, he grew more calm. 'Henri!' he exclaimed, seizing the lad , by the arm, and dragging him to the wini dow, 'my son is dead! That package? that certificate of marriage which I spoke ; to you about a few days ago?must be in ray?hands in less than hour;?do you heed me??in less than an hour. Iam childless?have no one save yourself to bequeath my possessions to. Bring it to me, and you shall be heir to my wealth and ti tie?everything ! I swear it before heaven ! Will you do it ?' 'I will!' replied Henri, eagerly, his eyes sparkling at the munificent reward promised. 'Stop at nothing to obtain it, Henry,' cried the Count; 'break the box to pieces, if there is no other way ! Paul is now in his room; but will be summoned thence directly. Go?quick?or stay! bring it to the door of the Empress' chamber when you procure it Go !' 'I fly, my lord !' said the lad exultingly. 'Count de Moner! I'd sell my sou! for the title !' and he dashed from the room. <He will procure it,' muttered the CouDt. 'The young stop at nothing; the aged pause and count the cost. Better the enthusiasm and headlong speed of the youth than the caution and slowness of the old 1 So, my lord,' he said, as Alexander entered, 'you are ready at last! Thanks for your haste ! Now for the church?the marriage?and then ho! for the empress 1' CHAPTER XII. THE MESSAGE. "I am, in my condition, A prince, Miranda ; I do think, a king; (I would not so) and would no more endure ib:j wooden slavery, than I would suffer The flesh-fly blow my mouth.' On leaving the Count, Henri hastily ascended the stairs to the Grand-Duke's pri vate apartments; and on reaching them knocked gently at the door A loud <oome in' from Paul was the reply, and he entered. It was strangely fitted up, that room, betraying at once the peculiar taste and eccentricity of the occupant. The walls were hung or rather ornamented with spears, shields, helmets, breast-plates, bows and arrows, slings, battle-axes, and other weapons of attack and defence of ancient warfare. There was also a number of guns and pistols, many of them several centuries old, curious and interesting to look at, but for service perfectly useless. In an inner room, the door of whioh stood wide open, was an iron cot, with a mattrass almost as hard as wood, Paul's bed; and the walls of this room were hung with murderous weapons, mostly of English manufacture.? Several standards, trophies of battle-fields, hung above the bed like mousquito nets; and on the mantel-piece stood the model of a ship supposed to have been made by that excellent workman, Peter the Great. Paul was seated near the window, busily engaged in writing; but on seeing Henri, he threw down his pen ; and, smiling pleasantly, held out his arms and bade him approach. 'So, roy little fellow,' he said, stroking i his hair, 'you have come to see me, eh ?? I So much the better, both for you and me, for your presence is always welcome? I doubly so at the present moment, when my t mind is filled with anxiety as to the future. Come, take your old place upon my knee, ( press your cheek against mine, and tell me i what I can do for you ! But what is this, < Henri? You do not smile as usual. Has < any one dared to offend you ?' and his brow grew dark as he asked the question. 'Why < are you sad V \ 'No one has offended me, my lord,' replied the lad. 'To tell you the truth? I do not feel very well to-day.' i 'Ha ! ill!' cried Paul. 'Remoul must 3ee you instantly. Yes, yes, Henri,' he i continued, gazing proudly into his face, nnr) KrnoMnrv Konlr fKu Ortff oillrnn Viaiv* fvnm uiuaiuu^ i/ova uiw uaai 4* his brow, 'you look pale; and methinks you are thinner than you were. How your i little heart does beat!' 'Nay, it is but a slight headaohe, uoy lord,' said Henri, almost crying, as he thought of the ingratitude that was to repay all this kindness. 'How I wish I were back to Italy,' he added \ 'it is always so pleasant there.' 'You shall go to-morrow, if you like,' said Paul, who waa really alarmed for bis health, it being the first complaint his protege bad ever made. 'Heaven,' he exclaimed, 'I am afraid my poor sisters disease?no, no! not that! not that! To die so young and so beautiful! Do you wish to go to Italy, Henri V he asked. 'Not till after the Empress' death, my lord.' 'Ay, ay, she will not last more than a week, Rewoul tells me,' said Paul, musingly. 'To say the least, she has not been a kind mother to me; indeed, sometimes I think she almost hated me; and yet I never gave her cause, except that unfortunate marriage, aud that she only suspects.? Well, well, Henri,' he added aloud, 'should she die, I trust wo may visit Italy and also Prussia, to look after vour es / w tates.' 'You joke, my lord,' said the astonished lad. 'No. I am serious, as you will see by and by,' said the Grand Duke, gayly, and pinching his cheek. 'But I must not tell ycu of it now. Ha! Remoul!' he exclaimed, as the physician appeared; 'you here ? What is the matter?' 'The Empress is dying,' was the solemn reply. 'You told me that a month ago,' said Paul, who had little or no love for his mother. Indeed, her conduct towards him had been such that it would have been strange if he had. 'Science has prolonged her life till now,' said the physician ; 'but even that has its limits She will not last through the night; and it would not look well, my lord, for you to be absent at the last moment.' 'Ycu are right,' said Paul; 'I will go to her at once. But see here, Remoul, examine this lad and let me know whether anything ails him. Is he not unusually pale?' 'A few day's exercise will bring the roses back to his cheek,' replied the physician, who was well aware of his reasons for belingthye. 'A glass of wine is all he re quires for the present.' 'Give him a drop from the bottle on the mantel-piece,' said Paul. The physician obeyed. Remain here, Henri,' he added, rising, and setting him gently on the floor. <Why you are as light as a featbsr! Kiss me. Pshaw ! don't cry ! You are only a little nervous. I will return shortly, if nothing happens;' and accompanied by the physcian, he left the room. 'And this is the man I am to?rob !' said Henri, gulping down the last word with a violent effort. 'Yes, rob; there is no other name for it. Would it were some one else !' he continued, as he passed into the inner room and looked under the bed.? 'But no?I cannot do it; so kind and con- i fiding to me ! Those estates he spoke of ?ah, he was but joking!' He paused and dashed the tear drops from his eyes. 'But the prize?the stake! I must have that !' and exerting all his strength he drew the i box from beneath the bed. It was not so very heavy, being filled with parchments i and papers; but Henri had neglected to i exercise in the open air of late, and was now weak and delicate. After examining the lock closely, he took down one of the ? spears and thrust the point under the lid. In his efforts to force it open the head broke off, and he cast it a side as useless, i Awnin hf> knspled down and pTominpd tho i ?o 1 lock, and?again he rose. 'I must break < it open/ he said at length. 'There is no other way / and taking down a battle-axe, a small, keeD, and very light weapon, which a warrior might have used with one hand, he turned the key in the lock of the outer door; and then taking off his cap and wiping his burning brow, he again entered the inner room. ****** It was with a cry of fear and a trembling heart, that Amy heard the bell ring, the usual signal of her guardian when he was about to visit her. That day he had been more than usually angry at her repeated declarations that she would not receive Alexander again in her room; and he bad threatened that his next visit would be to bear her to the church and make her the Duke's wife. She had scarce time to compose herself and dismiss her attendant, when he appeared, and at once addressed her. 'Amy/ he said, hurriedly, as if he wished to get over the disagreeable business as quick as possible, 'the hour has come.? Put on your things instantly, and prepare ( *1 J it. V, iu aucuiupauy ^lexanuer \aj tue uuuruu.? i He is below; the carriage is ready, and i there must be no delay. Where is your i auDt V < <1 will not be the wife of Alexander,' murmured the poor girl, pressing her hands < to her heart, and sinking into a chair.? But the Count heeded her not; for open- i W og the door of the adjoining room, he saw :he lady seated at the window. 'Come, Clotilde, and prepare the bride/ le said. 'The marriage is to take place :lfis night.' 'So soon !' cried the lady, with a cry of lelight; for it had long been her favorite wish to see Amy the wife of Alexander.? I will be with yon in a moment,' she ad* led. 'Ay, be as qniok as yon can,' said the Count. <1 am afraid,' he whispered, 'the B?irl will prove nnwilling. Should ebe re* fuse to go, drag her to the church by main # force, if there is no other way; for lam resolved the marriage shall take place. You _:n --- i .L. .i u j mil auuuuipuujr ucr iu tut) guurcu, buu mao at least a dozen servants with you. Has Pietro returned ?' 'I have not seen him.' 'Tie very strange where he has gone/ said the Count. 'But no matter. I have already notified the priest, and he will be there before you.' 'But are you not going ?' inquired the lady. 'No/ was the reply. <1 must return to the palace to finish the business I have told you of. Be sure they are married, he added. 'Should I fail, I shall have the satisfaction of knowing that she is Alexander's wife; and that alone will save me from Paul's wrath.' 'You are engaged in a desperate scheme, my lord.' <Ay, 'nothing ventures nothing have/ as the proverb says,' replied the Count, with a laugh. 'But we waste words.? Make haste ! Now, Amy/ be continued, as he entered her room and closed the door, 'are you ready ?' : The poor girl covered her face with her hands. 'My lord,' she said, at leogth, 'this sud den?' >, 'Yea, yes; I koow what you wonld say/ said de Moner, quickly. 'You woald tell me that this haste is unseemly, that yon want time to consider, and all that sort of thing; but let me tell you once again for all, I am resolved that you shall raary the Duke; so let me bear no more against it Come, your tears will not avail you 1 Prepare yourself. Your aur;t will accompany you to the church/ and withont another word, the Count left the room. 'No escape!' murmured Amy, wringing her hands and sobbing violently. 'No escape! Oh, Edgar! Edgar! wonld yon were here to save me!' 'Come, ray love!' cried the shrill voice of her aunt, 'are you nearly ready? Heloise,' she added, as the attendant entered, 1- J J I I_ I A. J 9 go to your jauy ana neip ner 10 aresa. Oa seeing the attendant a thoughtstraok Amy. Wby not inform Edgar of the bisty nuptials; perhaps he would save her.? The church was far off, but two squares from the imperial palace, and near it was the soldier's humble abode. Were he but present, she felt assured that nothing on earth dould make her pronounce the fatal word. With tearful eyes she turnfd to Heloise, who was gazing pityingly at her,, and whispered a few words in her ear.~ The attendant started, smiled, replied brief' ly, and pressing her hand encouragingly, left the room. Five minutes later the two ladies entered the carriage, in whiob AJe??L ander was already seated j and after a few complimentary remarks from him, whioh Amy little heeded, the door was closed and surrounded by a number of the Coani'r^1 servants bearing torches, the carriage1 drove off toward the church of St. Paul, that be- & " ing the place the Duke had selected for the> ceremony to take plaoe. ^ JlfcLt.[CONCLUSION NEXT WEEK J ,?* * v For the Yorkvllle Enquirer. PUBLIC MEETING. Pleasant Ridge, N. C., 1 - * October 13, 1860. j Messrs. Editors: In pursuance to previous notice, quite a number of citizensfromM the surroundiog country, assembled to day at Olney Church. ? >/ On motion of James Quion, Esq., the : 3 u_ u: t>,i L meeuug waa ur^auucu ujr uumug xvuuoit Wilson to the Obair, and requesting E. B. Wilson to act as Seoretary. The object of ? the meeting was then explained, and od motion of D. A. Jenkins, a committee of twelve persons were appointed to draft resolutions for the action of tbe meeting. r The Chairman appointed James Quinn, William M. Holland, Nathan Mendenhall, John F. Wilson, Thomas F. Qninn, Jobn H. Craig, Eli Mendenhall, John R. Falls, William R. Holland, D. A. Jenkins, Ze- ? aas S. Hill, and Andrew Detter, said ccmmittee, who retired, and after a short absence, reported the following preamble and resolutions, which were unanimously adopt3d: Whereas, late events have transpired at Harper's Ferry, in Texas, Alabama and slsewhere, tending to the disturbance of the peace and quietof the country; and where13 mischief has been done amongst us during our several meetings,?and it is suspected that mischief may be lurking in our midst again,?by persons who may be coniidered out-laws, so it has become us to prepare for any emergency that may arise, x) seoure our peace and safety. Therefore, Resolved, That a committee of Vigilance tnrnnfw.nno nopunna V?P onnni nfcpd hv the jhairman of this meeting, with a view to leteot any person or persons that may bo regarded as suspicions or dangerous oharicters. Resolved, That the committee appoint a Chairman out of said committee, who is hereby authorized to call the committee together at such time and plaoe as ocoasion nay require. Retched, That we recommend to the Chair, the propriety of appointing a Comnittee, consisting of three Magistrates, vhose bnsiness shall be to nominato,patrols for each particular section in the beat or district. Resolved, That slaves shall not be allowsd tc assemble in an improper manner at places of public worship, or elsewhere; and if the said committees shall find them so