\ ‘ “J.-‘bloolter’-3 market, where he intends to kee TVVO DOLLARS PER ANNUM, P_AYAiBLE IN ADVANCE. OFFICE WEST SIDE THE BjRIDG,E——0VER Hovrts STORE. .13‘:- Volnme XXIII. NORWALK, (ET. WEDNESDAY;.-OCTOBER 21,-,-,__1s4o. %t_..._ '7. Number 49. . THE NORWALK GAZETTE ' Is Published ‘ Evi-my. WEDNESDAY MORNING. .81’ JAMES ‘REED. In. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTON. Villageantl Mail Subscribers $2 per annum, payable in advance. Subscribers who live out of the Carrier’sdistrir.-t andcallatthe Office fortheirpapers,$1 50 in advance-—at the end of the year. $2 00 Companies of six. or more, receiving their pa- pers by mail, $1 50, payable in advance. RATES OF ADVERTISING. For one square, or 16 lines, 3 weeks, 81 00 Each following insertion. 185 Executor’s and Ad ministrator’s Notices. 1 00 Corrimissioner's notices, I 25 Guardians’ Notices, and Notices of Divorce, by the square. Yearly advertisers. one square. $10 per annum, payable quarterly in advance. The priv- ilege ofyearly advertisers is limited to their own immediate business. All casual advertisements sent to this Ofiice must, to insure insertion, be ac-coinpanied hv the cash. Job Printing, or ALL_KiNi>s, vtmtv EXECUTED AT THE GAZETTE orncr. DENTAL NOTICE. OCT. A. HILL, tliamkful forthe patronage . he has received in his profession during 12 months past, in Norwalk, begs leave to in- form tne public, that he still continues a, few doors west of the Bridge, in Burrt_ill’s Buildings, where he will be happy at any time to see his friends, and answer all their calls in Dental Surgery. Incorruptible teeth inserted from one to ii. full set. Also, teeth cleansed, separated. ex- uacted, &.c., and all those diseases ofthe teeth attended to, which, if suffered to continue, are productive of so much mischief. Rcferences.—-Emery Bissell,,. M. D.; J. D. M‘Lean, M. D.; Hon. Thomas B. Bttler; Hon. Benjamin Isaacs, Norwalk. Nehemiah Perry, M. D. Ridgefield. R. B. Botsford. M. D.; Doct. D. P. Knapp, Danbury. Duct. Howell Rodgers, Colchester, Ct. _ William Witter, M. D. Williamantic, Ct. November 20. 1839. - 1 WARD’S VEGETABLE HAIR OIL. V V HIS Oil possesses the peculiar property St long, but vainly sought for in other vege: able oils, that of reproducing a new growth or hair on heads totally bald. So great are it:- nourishing properties, which it readily impar.'s to the roots of the hair, that it requires btit a sbort time to produce a new growth,'and but few applications to cliiick that falling of the hair, which so often occurs, especially after sickness. It prevents the hair turning grey, and when it begins to turn. may be easily checked and re- stored to its natural beauty by applying the oil. This oil gives an agreeable fragrance, and is preferable to any other for performing, curling and glossing the hair. Ladies and gentlemen of the highest rank have patronized this oil very extensively ; and such has been its effects in every country where it has been introduced, that it receives the "decided preference. From the Royal College qf Physicians. HAVANA, Feb. 20, 1833. Dr. E. A. Ward, having proved to this Royal Tribunal that the Vegetable Oil, of his compo- sition. has the property ofcausing the growth of ‘hair, and preventing its fall, by fortilying the decayed part. (the effect ofaromatic ingredients ‘which have been found in its composition by the chemist Don Francisco Suarez) we hereby re- commend its use, not as a specific, but as a good and tiseful remedy for persons repuiring it, whose hair is in a state of decay from sickness or other causes. ' Jose Bernal, M. D. Simon De Hevia, M. D. Witness—Cayitano Ponlon, Notary Public. The above testimonial oftlte efficacy and val- ,ne of Ward's Vegetable Hair Oil, was given the proprietor by the Royal Academy of Physicians in Havana; tothose who are acquainted with the extreme rigidness of the medical police of Ha- vana, it speaks voluines—it is conclusive. Cautz'on.—None is genuine unless it has a treatise of 32 pages round each bottle, by E. A. ‘ Ward, M. D. New York. Sold by Join: A. WEED, Agent for Norwalk. Norwalk. Sept. 3, 1840. " 42 .CABINET FURNITURE. THE subscriber, grateful for past favors, would solicit a continuance of the same. Heiis constantly manufacturing Furnitureof all kinds. of the best materials, and will keep on hand a good assortment, not to be excelled by any country establishment for cheapness, dura- bility, or workmanship. A good assortment ofCHAIRS constantly on . hand, or furnished to order at the shortest notice for cash. _ The subscriber would also offer Cabinet Makers in this vicinity, and in the interior. an opportunity to purchase Mahogany Ltimber, such as Plank, Board. and Veneering, in ex- change for their Furniture. He will sell this '_ stock at New York prices, and give good prices for Cabinet Ware. -This arrangement offers to many, who do not wish to purchase to a great amount, a first rate opportunity of getting their stock, and saving expense in time and money. Call at the Cabinet Ware Room. a few rods ‘east of the Bridge. . VIM. A.‘ BARLOW. .Norwallt. May 16. 1840. 27 CABINET FURNITURE. ‘ AMES A. TINDALL would respectfully inform the inhabitants of Norwalk and its vicinity. that he has recently opened a CABI- NET WARE ROOM in few doors north of pr; ‘hand a general assortment of FURNI- TUBE. manufactured ofthe best materials, and in the‘ most modern style, which he Will sell on reasonable terms. _ Norwalk. April 27,- 1849. M , listed while a youth-he considered him a ,possessed-—tind be it known thay were nei- "tlltlt it was more honorable to starve than to P excepting the knapsacks. as they were drop- ADV-ERl‘lSEMEN'l‘ FOR A WIFE. “Honesty is the best policy." I’m not a particular man, Tho’ I’ve passed thirty years ofmy life As a bachelor. gallant and gay- So. at last have resolved oti a wife ; A spin.-ter or widow will do, Butfui“ ones. one word in your ear, I can settle this matter of} liaud, With ajare ofthree thousand a year. I'm not a particular man, Will take any fairfairer than black, Can look over a cast in the eye. Or a trifling bump on the back. , I really have no choice in eyes. Be their color ofblack brown or blue, Can put up with a aooseberry green, Provided the fair one has two. I'm not a particular mati, As to thin, tall, to dumpy or fat. For l‘ni tired ofliviug alone, And of wearing a shocking bad hat. I should like to appear better dressed. Have a ca/2-cob, and cab at my call. Subscribe to some club--and at night Embellisli an opera stall. I‘m not a particular man, For my furoiture's going to rack. My socks and my scrvutits want mending. I've not a whole shirt to my back; So. ladies, I offer a home. With a husband l().c::ntfi)rt and cheer, Fnrl know I could jog on right well, VVith a wife and three tliousaud a year. MISCELLANY. From the Harrison Eagle. A N I N C I D E N T In the Life of Gen. Ilarrison. Mr. Chitin, of La. in his address at the Marlborough Chapel on the evening of the glorious 10th of Sept. gave an account oftin interesting and thrilling incident in the life of Gen. Harrison, of which he was an eye- witness. After making an eloquent and beautiful introduction. and delivering a glo- rious and patriotic address to the Whigs-be, at the suggestion of some of the audience, commenced speaking ofGen. Harrison. He stated that. he knew him well—-he was his old commander, under whose banner be en- statesman, a hero, and a scholar, qualified to fill any st2ition—equaled by few, and surpas- sed by none in honesty of sottl, integrity of purpose, and generosity of heart. Among other qualifications which the old General ther few nor small—-none surpassed his pow- er of eloquence. He did not believe that what he had heard fitll from the lips of Gen. And then one universal shout broke the never desert our brave General I _ day the supplies arrived, and: relieved the necessities and suflt-rings of't-be so,'_ldit:.rs. Fellow--:itizens——This is the tna,r_i,j,»tvliont the bireling scavengers of _a dt-sptjr':"t;t:‘jeé'& reck- less party, brand with the name of.--granny, imbecile-—-coward. Will you not brand such infamous and unprincipled desperadoes as vember? VVe know you will. Front the Ladies‘ Companion, for October. -T HE M lRR()R:, on, A woittAN’s REVENGE. IN the insulated principality of Mountbe- liard, on the Upper Rhine, is still to be seen the castle of Rhudeubt-ck. which, for five centuries, has bid defiance to the ravages of time. In a small chamber in the left tower is shown an ancient mirror, surrounded by a thick oaken frame, and inserted in the waln- scotting of the apartment, to which tradition has affixed a story of considerable interest. One ofthe lords of Rhudenbeck had united himselfto ayoungand lovely bride, thedau_qh- ter of the Iltlllltln house of Tassoni. She was every thing that imagination could cott- jure up. or lrmguage portray—pure in her bed was blessed with a sweet pledge oftlieir union. In a gorgeous autumn evening, in The vesper hymn of the minstrt-ls of nature was ascending to the portals of Heaven. and the-distant tinkling of the bells of the abbey canicswcetly upon the wings ofthe evening. like the voice of a mountain streumlet, j..~y- ing in its course of beauty and of song- From the town of Rhudeubeck floated the white banner with its cross of gold, scarce- ly moved by the gentle breeze which swept across the face of the landscape, scattering the treasures of autumn on the silver-breasted Rhine. The steel-clad warrior, as he kept his monotonous pace on the frowning battle- inents, gazed with silent admiration on the glorious scene that lay before him. In his heart, remembrance was touching the lute of vanished hours—-the forms of the home of his youth rose thickly around him. The blue hills which died away in the distance, recalled those days when, on their breasts, he roamed in the joyousness of youtb—mo- ments which come like the arrows of light- Hurrison, on the occasion to which he was- about to refer, had been surptisscd or equul-- ed since the days of St. Paul. The circum- stances were briefly as follows:—-The army had been worn down by fatigue, on a long and perilous march tlirnugh swamps and for- ests ; and had acttinlly been wit/tout meal se- ven clays, aml wit/tout water three days. In this critical situation they were joined by Gen. Harrison, who found them discourag- ed, starving, and in a state of revolt and des- peration-—sonie seven hundred had actually refused to march another step, and had l:ish- ed their knapsacks to their backs, shouldered their guns, and dctertnined, recklt-.-ss of the consequt-n.ces. to march to the first settlement and abandon the army at the point of the bay- onet, or by the use ofpowder and ball, if compelled so to do. Under these trying and pcrlious circum- stances, his action was prompt, energetic, disenterested, and characterised by the heart of a patriot, a soldier, and a christian. He ordered the men to be formed into a hollow square, and rode into the center, and com menced an address to his soldiers-——I-Ie told them that he expected to receive supplies within;two days-—that he believed they would arrive, butcould‘not promise to a certainty- that their sufferings were his sufferings- desert——that their country’s glory, fame, and honor, should be more precious in their eyes than anything else——that for the preserva- tion of that fame, glory, and honor,every true patriot and soldier should fearlessly brave death in every form. "Comrades and fellow-sufferers! I conjure you by your love of country, your attach- ment to her institutions, your prayers for her prosperity, power and perpetcity, your self-respect, your hatred of tyranny and op- pression, by everything sacred, sud as you value a soldier's honor, character and repu- tation, never to abandon your posts in dis- grace and ignominy. Every noble princi- ple of your natures, every chivalrous and pa- triotic aspiration of a soldier’s heart, every feeling of honor and magnanimity revolts at such a course. Be your motto, Jlly Coim- try, first, last, amrlforever. Stand by your General. fellow-soldiers, and his fare shall be your fare, until the last-—and ifthe worst mtistcome, let us meet the desperate emergen- cy with the courage of true soldiers ; and as we have lived and fought together for otir country, so let us remain at our posts, in the performance of our duties, ‘and slarrie togeth- er lor our country, it the God of battles will it. "Desert you must not,--will not—shall not. If after this, you still persist in your determination to leave, Come to my Quar- ters and an lranmble discharge shall be giv- en to every man, and then you can start for home with happy hearts and unstained repu- tatious—and meet your wives and children, neighbors, friends, and countrymen,’ without a blush upon your cheeks.” ' During this address, not a dry. eye was to be seen in that vast concourse——not a sound disturbed the brethless stillness and appalling solemnity of that scene in the wilderness. -ped one after another from the back of each soldier, and the hollowvecho of the ground. as each rnus'ket'was brought down from the ning through the gloom of the tempt-st thrilling and brightening the memory and mind. 'l‘he shrill blast of the bugle rang sud- denly upon the :tir—the prancing of horses was heard. The Countess rushed to the window. The pennon of her lord was seen fluttering above a small band of warriors in the midst of which from a glittering casqu-3 streamed a plume. of the brightest scar- let. Margaret knew that her Rhudenbcck was there. “ Gianetti," exclaimed the Countess to a young and lovely girl who sat in the corner of the apartment deeply engaged in the con- tents of a small volume. " Giant"-tti, look yonder-—’tis be--’ti_s my Rbudenbeck, that comes,” and kissing her beauteous boy and cltispiug him to her breast contiuued—" thy father, thou gem of his bosom.” The young girl rose slowly and looked from the wind- ow, but no joy appeared to impart its thrill to her heart, at the sound or sight of Rhuden- bcck’s approach—hut again retiring, she stood. before the mirror and mechanically, yet careful, seemed to arrange the long,dark tresses that flowed in luxurious thickness 0- ver a neck and shoulders of the fairest bus. The Countess sped from the apztrtmcnt, leav- ing the babe to the care of Gianetti, to the court of the castle to welcome her lord.- Gianetti gazed ititently upon the infant, her dark, deep eyes flashed with an unearthly brightness, the blood seemed to mount in tor- rents to her face and her bosom heaved with quick and heavy breathings. “Scorpion l” sue exclaimed as she seized the child with stillness of the liour—it was ll]lS-_-‘W9 will_,_ The nt-xt , her replies are ever short and sullen.” vile calurnniaters. at the ballot-box next No-. 'of artns will no longer strike upon the ear, known, of late, her mirthful spirits seem to ‘have forsaken her; for hours will she sit ‘in the silence of her apartment, lost to every sense of sound or sight, and when accosted, “Ah !” saidRhudcnbeckdaughingly. "some lover has entrapped her; we iuust find him out, and if he be worthy of her, Gianetti shall not want ti dower. Come, my loved one. the shadows of night are gathering- thickly around. I am weary and in need of rest; to morrow, with the dawn, I must a-' gain depart." "So socn, my lord ?” sorrowfully eqclaim- ed she. "Thou art ever absent; if it were not-for thy iriiage in the features ofthv child, Heaven knows but my home, would be a dreary one!’ _ — g. ‘ “ Come, come, ano; month will quick- ly pass away,’’- replie "he-, ahd then the din the f"own of ttrtingbhalfl be exchanged for the ;'y,~presence again glad- The coufiding creature. fell upon his bo- som, aud in the ecstacy of present bliss and anticipated joy, passed to the chamber of do- mcstic, love. But whither had Gianetti de- f.ith, and spotless in her beauty. The lighttol Rbudenbecli and his Wife. as they passcd of love fell brightly on their path, and their lbs? door, was the first Sound to rouse her lfrom her deep abstraction. She started as if the small chamber already mentioned, sat the kiss Of l0"9. “’lllCh. in their fondness. , the young Countess with her beautiful babe, lthcy fervently excliziugcd, fell on her heart The last beams of the departing sun were glancing througbthe narrow casement, and 3 fztiling, she clung to the door for support.—- fillingtbeaparrmentjwizhaflood ofliquid gold, l 'l"ne. t't-cedixig sounds of their footsteps died a fierce and sudden grasp. “ Thou art the barrier to my bliss, the curse of Gianetti’s wishgs,” the helpless innocentchecked in the to weep or smile; “ Yess! yes 1'’ she con- tinued, “the eye of Rhudenbeck is there- his brow ofbeauty is thlnel Imp! devil!” and her eyes filled with tears as she rudely displaced the info‘ upon the floor. The footsteps and happy -voices of Bhudcnbeck and his wife were now heard in the corri- dor—Gianetti wishing to avoid their pres- ence, was quitting the apartment when the Count and Countess oppeared at the door.- She started back. The smile of hypocrasy played upon her features. She curtseyed otvly to Rhudenbeck and snatching up the babe, placed it in the father’s arms “ Ah! Gianetti, my Spanish maid.” said Rliudenbeck, “thou art more beautiful than when we parted; by St Dennis, those eyes will win for thee a prince! what says my Margaret; is she not beautiful .7" and as he said so, he kissed his smiling boy, who, delighted with his warrior habiliments; was clinging and shouting with joy around his neck. “Yes, my Rhudenbeck,” replied the food- and guileless wfe, “she is indeed! Gian- etll, I shall grow jealous ofthee, if my Rhu denbeck is so lavish of ‘his praise.” Gianetti turned from the gaze of Rhuden- beck-—ber right hand seemed to seek for some- thing beneath the folds of her drapery, and suddenly quitting the apartment, faintly ar- ticulated, "Good night, my lord and lady !” " Is she not well. my Margaret ."’ inquir- ed Rhudenbeck. as Gianetti departed. ‘ " For aughtl know, my lord.” replied shoulder, Margaret, " but from some cause to gas un- ttiidst of its sunny iuirth knew not whether, l’)8.l'lt:‘(.l=?, In the deep twilight within her own ‘room, she stood alone. The footsteps :1 pool of thunder had burst upon her ear—-- like the bolt of death. Faint, and aluiost Q’rtt~:liinlly away,but the closing of the heavy oaken door of thccharnber of Rbudeubeck rung the knell of her distraction. Sense forsook her, andfalling on the floor, she lay cold and lifeless in the arms of oblivion.—— \Vhat art thou, love .7 Mysterious and inex- plicable-spii'i_t, art thou of Heaven or earth .7 Whegjisxthy dwelling’! Thy name is the music ofthe spheres-—-thy essence the adora- tion of Heaven. Like the light ofthe god of day, t?fiy._beatus arr felt in the breast of the pca§a'nfit,, as well as that of _ the prince. Rank finds in thy eye no favor, wealth no respect. The distant lover is hap- py under thy holy influence, Power and op- pression, at thy presence are forgotten. The Wurrior, on the bloody field, values life but for thy incstimable blessing, and the monarch in his crown and robes of ermine, regards them with digust, ifthy light fulls not upon him. Thou art the cynostire of all hearts —-the ba rque of beauty on the sea of hope.- Yct, beautiful as thou art in thy pni'ity-ter- tqigic art thou in thy‘ hate. Then thou know- cst no bounds of restraint, thou art guided by no rules ofart; philosophy, and its ped- ant laws, are, by thee, discovered; pity is turned to revenge, and like a demon, thou walkcst abroad, carrying blight and desola- tion in thy path. - She that is more lovely than the detv-ki-‘st-d lily of the morning, whose smile is mild as the beam ofinnoceuce, in whose eye dwells the light of mercy, let but the cloud of stispicion overshadow the sky ofher confidence, and her blood is turned to poison—-hersweetcst feelings to the bitter- cst gall. Midnight had now arrived. In the some room in which Gianetti had abruptly left the Count and Countess, she was again-standing —in her left hand she held a small lamp, her right was resting upon the handle ofthe door, to which she placed her ear as if listen- ing for some expected sound. “ VVill he come .7” said she “or is be sound in the arms of ” She could not speak the name——a strong shuddering came over her; it was the sltud- der of conscious guilt at the l'€‘flt‘Cl.lOII of the past, and the thought of what was to come. A step was at length heard lightly to ap- proach the door. Hurriedly she placed the lamp in the rcccss of the window, and re- tired to the farthest corner ofthe room. The door‘ opened slowely and rt figure, habited in the thick folds a martial cloak, was seen to enter. “Gianetti!” the figure exclaimed. She sprang forward. The mantle fell from the form, and the next moment Rhudenbeck and Gianetti were in each others arms In the confidence of heart—in the affection of love had the beautiful Margaret fallen into the deepest repose. The brightest visions of bliss were peopling the atmosphere of her_ happy slumbers, wliilcencircled in her arms lay a rosy infant in the balmy slcep of inno- cence. God! could the heart ofmau forsake’ the couch of virtue for the embrace of vice ? Yes, Rhudenbeck‘ could do this. In. the warm breath of passion, he could imprint a kiss upon the lips ofGianetti,laud tell her that the wife of his bosom was to hiinas nothing —-that she Gianetti was the idol of his soul that btit for the bond of wedlock, his Spanish angel,'t'1s he, in his passionate frenzy. was wont to cull her,would now be the lady ofhis h-.tll—-—-the sunbeam of his_ existence. Gian- etti,:,li;ke the daughters of the land of Spain, was endowed with the warm, passionate, and daiigerous feelings of her sex. She had been seen, by the Countess, in her own nu- tive vale, where, like a thing of light, she moved the centre of the village throng. At- tracted by her modest bearing, and her rus- tic beauty, the Countess extended to her the hand of protection, and rasietl her from ob- that she was fostering an asp in her very bo- som—-pu re in her own thoughts. she suspect- ed not crime in others, and at the --moment. when she looked upon her as a very sister, Gianetti could have placeda poighard in the heart of her beufactress. , ' I - ‘ From along sickness which followed, in giving birth to her babe, the‘ Countess had been closely confined ‘to his chamber, and the young Gianetti entrusted with the do- 41"“ capacity that she first attracted and seduced the heart of Rhpdenbeck; passion usurped hI§ throne of re=tson+he saw Gianetti with the eyes of admiration, and in the delirium of his hear-t,,l1e sacrificed the honor of his bed on the shrine of-cnime. Likea broken vaseof chrystal, which may be repaired, yet for ever must bear a blemish, so is it with the wedded houorgofthe busband,once parted Will’). it is forever stained. Cunning may conceal the wound, but never can restore it to its pristine beauty. -So is it with the wo- man who has given to the winds tbezone of virtue—the jewel of her life is gone. The strear-ulet of her mind is stained——crime fol- lows crime, ’till desperate and despairing she cares notwhat befals her-—sbe is ripe fortlie deadliest deed. So was it with Gianetti. She felt that while the Countess existed, she must ever be the debased creature of Rbudenbeck -—she loved him rnadly—-his very breath was, to her, life, his smile, to her, Heaven. What then must have been her feelings when, folded in his arms, he told her the Countess alone prevented him from making her his bride; was it to be wandered at ifftbe most fearful passions took possession of her soul-—and they did. From that moment, in the solitude of her heart, she vowed the des- truction ofthe Countess. We shall notdes-- cribe their meeting, their vows of passion, and their fearful loves. Let the"veil of pity be drawn over them. The hour of retribu- tion is at band. From the scene of crime Rhudenbeck again returned to his chamber, where still lay the beautiful Countess and her babe, in the arms of slumber. As he gazt-rd upon them the iron of remorse enter- ed deep into his soul; he stood ‘cl thing of guilt at the couch of his \\'(.'f.ld€’Cl love. 'l‘ears gushed from his eyes and in the coutrition ofhis soul hesnnk on his knees, and nudi- bly asked, the forgivness of heaven. The Countess, at the sound, awoke from her slumber. The beams of an autumn morn- ing were strugl.in.g through the silken cur- tains of the casement, and the memory of her lord's departure at once -took possession of her mind. “ Ah ! Rhudc.-nbcck said she. “ Yes, Margziret, the bell has sounded the morning watch——l can fihcar tho horsemen in the court of the castle.” The Countess arose and looking upon her babe with a mother's love, exclaimed, “ my boy, as thou tirtiu features like th fatht-r, may’st thou prove in honor and in fiiith the same." Rhu- denbeck turned away--the shaft had entered his heart. When equipped he kissed the beautiful creature who hung around his neck: "Let me see my lord,” she exclaimed “de- parttrom his castle in the pride of honorand of heart—Gnd’sblessing on theeRhudenbeck l" " Nay, ’tis impossible.” replied the warri- or, “the morning air will chill thy tender form——it cannot be,” and once moreembrac- mg her, he was about to take his leave—l‘.§ut the Countess insists-dthot she at least should gaze from the little chamber where the evening before, she had witnessed his ap- proach with her boy and Gianetti. Rhu- dcnbeck felt as if Providence hatl marked him for the victim of remorse. It was the veryspot from which but some few minutes before he parted from the embrace of guilt. ' 5 Hanging on the arm of her lord--they reached the little apartment. Gianetti had fallen into a deep slumber in the oztken chair. As they entered, she started from her sleep, exclaiming-—“ Ah! Rhudeubeck, is it you .7” The Countess, started back looked with arnnzement on the gii'l—the place, and l]Pl' presence, at so untimely an hour, for the first ttnie se_nt suspicion to her heart. . But the cloud,.;.was soon dispelled, for as guilt is ever tlie handmaid of falsehood-» Gianetti artfully zfvowed that it was the young Lord of Rhuderibeck to whom she referred, and of whom, in her slumbers she had been dreaming. VV-hile her appearance at so strange an hour was accounted for by the clamor of the warriors in the court yard who had disturbed her slumbers. The bu- gle at this moment souuded,and Rhudenbcck bade adieu to his wife. The Countess overcome by her feelings sank into the chair--she raised her eyes to heaven to ask its‘ blessing on her lord and husband Great God ! -what sight struck‘ upon her vision. Distinctly in thegmirror she b.-held reflected, the figures of Rhuden-- beck and Gianetti. In his arms he heldthe Spanish girl, while their lips uiet insilent and passionate fondness. Margaret's every feeling was frozen-—-she sat motionless as a stature, and it was only when Gianetti who now stood looking from the'_n'-1'-ttdotv told her to come and gaze u_pon her gallant Rhuden- bcck !—that the chain of oblivion was bro- ken. She started from her seat-—a‘nd her lims trembled beneath. her. “Not now, gll‘l,", she said, “not now,” and with an assumed step of firmness quilted the ‘apartment for her own chamber. She reached it, gazed wildly upon her beau- teous nursling—aud bursting into a flood of tears, exclaiming, "my childlmy child!” sank unconsciously upon the couch. "From the loophole of the lowest vault of the aisle, which the belltold out the hour of midnight, a faint light was seen to come.- While ‘followed. by four of -her. domestics; servants of-,her father’s housedevotcd to her scurity to splendor. , Alas! she dreamed not -interests, in her heart and soul, the Countess directed her steps to the chamber of Gianetti. Ont-her couch she lay in the deepest slum- ber, her cheek rested upon- one band and in the other was a small miniature, on which she had apparently-been gazing. .~Q.uietly did the Countess remove it, and held it to-the tapers‘. expiring flame. Conviction was now beyond .a. doubt. It was the likeness. of ‘Rhudeiibeck. Franticly she seized the help- less girl. byvths ,.throat. ' Gianetti starting mastic duties of the gastto. %It was t'utlii_s- from‘-her sleep and srsndereddesperate from the terror of the scene, with the energy of despair extricated herself from the gras of the infuriated Countess, and fled to the cop of the chamber-—-but she fled only from [ht-3 fangs ofthe wolfto those of the tiger. The domestics already instructed,secur’cd the help. less victim and stifling her cries conveyed her to the vault of the pastle—-where stood a monk and two dornestics by the side of 3 QTRVB. excavated in the rock. In vain did Shf appeal to_ the mercy of the Countess, Vt retclil viperll’ exclnimedtheinjured wo. mall--"letthy shrtvingbe brief, seek for mer. CY 1“ heaven 1” The monk advanced, bewil- dered and ”€'mlJll".g. Gianetti pressed the cross to her pa_llid lips, and the next moment the tomb received a llVlng'I€nanl—-Gianetti was no more. b When Rhudenbeck returned to the castle. 9 e‘12<‘-‘fly inquired for the Spanish girl.-— “Follow me.”said the Cotiutess who had ,r,eceived him with a well dissembled face. She has changed her apartment for it fitter and more welcome one.” She led the way to the vault. "Whither go you '3” said Rliudenbeck as- tonished at the direction in which she bras proceeding. "To the home of Gionetti 1'’ they passed Onewhen. suddenly, she paused. and] ex- claimed, There! at the same time pointed to the cavern tomb. Rhudcnbeck started back-—-on the covering was inscribed-—T/is Home of Dishonor! ‘ It It ' - _ . of mlilggpt, dead 2 he inquired in an agony “Ayl dead--knowest thou the cause 2‘? exclziimcd she, at the same moment present-. ed to his gaze the miniature she had snatch- ed from the hand ofGianetti. Rhudcnbecl: at once diviued the sequel of her fate. That night he left the castle, never again to return-. On the field he found 9. soldier's grave. Griefsettled on the soul of the Countess. Like a lily chilled by the breath of winter, slowly she withered, and departed, in the glory of her youth. The young heir of Rhudenbeck grow to manhood and fame. No blot stained the scutcheon of his hon- or, bright as his shield was the courage of his heart. In his life he was adored, in death regrctted—and his memory enshrined in the bosom of his people. POPPING THE QUESTION. To us, gentlemen, this Popping the Clues. tiou is often no easy matter. It drives, I. verily believe, fl.l‘JaSl]fl]l man almost into hys- terics. Many acold sweat, many a choak- ing in the throat, many a knocking ofthe knees together, have these poor rascals before they can summon courage to ask a girl to have them. But it isu’t so, egad, with all. Some do it with easy impudencc, some do it in a set speech—some do it because they can’t help it—and some never do it at all, but get married as it were by instinct. Oulv give two lovers fair play, kick your matcli-making aunts to the ducc, and—my life for it—the most demure will find a way of being un. derstood, even if, like old Sir Isaac Newton, they have tomake love with their foot. As they get cozter and cozier, they will sit si- lently gazing into each otber’s eyes, until at last, when they least expect it, perhaps, the question will pop out like it cork from a champagne bottle. It will pop itself.-It’s~ ull nonsense this lending young folks a help- ing hand —take my word ‘for it all they wish is to be let aloue,—and iftberc be anv con- founded youngsters about let them belput to bed or drownded, it don’t matter a ficr which. If lovers have no tongues, hav’nt thgy eyes, egad? and where is fhe simpleton that can’: tell whether a girl loves him without a word on her part? No one adores modesty more than I do, butthe most delicate angel oftbem all won’t disguise her little heart when you are alone with her. A blush-a sigh-—a stu- died avoidance of you in company-—nnd a low thrilling, trembling of the voice at times when no one else is by, tell more than the smiles of a thousand coquettes. Ahl vou need’nt, Amy, shake your head—you’ll no boubt be seen enough—-but ifyou fall in love as you will, my word on it—the very echo of one footstep will make your heart flutter ike a frightened bird.—.Te-remg/-»S'}tort. , ‘T/te Brz'de.—I know no sight more char- ming and touching than that ofa young and timidbridc, in her robes of virgin white, led up trembling to the altar. lVhen I thus be- hold a lovely girl in the tenderness of her years, forsak-ing the house of her fathers, and the home of her cbildhood—and, with the implicit confidence, and the sweet self-aban- donment, which belongto worran, giving up all the world for the man of her choice; when I hear her, in the good old language of the ritual, yielding herself to him “for bet- ter for worse, for richer for poorer, in"sick- ness and in health, to love, honor, and obey, till death do us part”—it brings to mind the beautiful and affecting devotion of Ruth; “VVhither thou goest I will go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge—thy people shall be my people, and thy_God my God. 4 Irving. How can he exalt his thoughts to any thing great and noble, who only believes that after a short turn on the stage of this world, he is to sink into oblivion, and to lose his cou- sciousness forever I For this reason I am of opinion, that conse- ful and elevated at contemplation as that ofthe soul‘s immortality, cannot be rasumed too of- ten. There is not a more improving exer- cise‘ to the human mind, than to be frequent- ly reviewing its own great privileges and en- dowments; _nor a more effectual meatis to awaken in us an ambition raised above low objects and little persuits, than to value our- selves as heirs of eternity.-—Hug/res. Very Important. A Mr. Hudson assures the Liverpool public that he is ‘nianufact,ur- or of milk punch to her Majesty.’
Norwalk Chronicler