A CORSIOAN VENDETTA.

Auckland Star, Volume XVIII, Issue 279, 26 November 1887, Page 6

A CORSIOAN VENDETTA.

By C. A. QUNTER,

The Successful American Playwright;.

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS,

' This story commenced in last Tue3day's Star. To enable those who have not read the previous chapters to follow the story, we give a brief synopsis of the parts already published. Mr Barnes, of New York, a wealthy young gentleman, and the crack shot of the New York Rifle Club, is on a visit to Coant Musso Danella at his Corsican estates. During his stay, Barnes had been introduced by tho Count to his ward, a beautiful young lady named Marina Paoli, who was eagerly expecting the return of her only brother, a lieutenant in tho French, navy. On the day following his visit to the Paoli mansion, Barnes sets out for Ajaccio, his stay in Corsica being now at an end; and at the latter place he chances to witness a quarrel between Marina's brother and an English naval o nicer, which results in a challenge to a duel, and it was arranged that the meeting should tase place near an old inn on the seashore. Barnes resolves to do his utmost to prevent tho meetincr. and repairs to tb.e inn on the d a/.appointed" for the meeting. He also despatched an urgent letter to the sister. His mediation, however, is unavailing, for altnougn on Barnes's persuasion and the picture xie gave of the loving sister awaiting her brother s return, the Englishman tendered au expression of regret for having knocked the youn? Corsican down, the latter refused to accept it. The result was that the Corsican was mortally shot, and expired in Barnes's arms just as Marina arrives on the scene. The Englishman had left for his ship —which was on the point of sailing for Egyptdirectly after the duel. The chapter following describes tho arrival of Marina Paoli on the fatal ground. •

CHAPTER IV.

DEAD !

The extreme faintness of Paoli's voice had caught Barnes's attention the moment that he spoke ; it was in such noticeable contras to its power immediately before the duel. He springs to him and feels his pulse ; for, with a physician's instinct, he knows but one thing could produce so marked a change in so short a time. As he does so, his colour becomes as pale as that of the young Corsican's himself, who now reclines against fc he Cliff at his back, and whose head droops as if he had no longer the strength to hqld It upright. In an instant, Barnes, with his knife, has cut away from his patient's leg the blue naval trousers that have already become a deep crimson purple about the wound, ■ which is nearly as high up as the young man's hip. Using his finger as a probe he traces the bullet. As he feels its path he mutters to himself a low curse; and, at the same time, is conscious of thinking with what supreme will this man must have hated; to have stood, for even a short minute, waiting for the hope of a second shot, when the first had done him such an injury. For a moment he cannot understand how the bullet has taken its peculiar course ; but, as he sees the mutilated pistpl that lies by the man's side, he comprehends what has produced the extraordinary wound he has discovered. " Quick !" he cries to old Mateo, "bring me the strongest spirits, brandy, rum, anything you have—also some water! Move like lightning !" Then he folds his. coat and makes a pillow for the young Corsjcan's head, layshim gently on hisback and whispers to him tenderly : " Do you have any pain 1 Don't exert yourself to speak aloud, my ears are good !" Receiving the boy's answer, he rises and comes co de Belloc, who has been looking on, wifch, some interest at Barnes's quick movements, and taking him aside, says, hurriedly but decidedly, "I am a surgeon in all but a diploma, which I did not care to take," for he wishes the soldier to know that what he is about to tell him is as absolute truth as if it came from some celebrated physician. " Then you can tell me which way will he the best to move him to the city—by boat or by carriage ?" . "By neither ! He must stay here!" " Stay here ? Till when ?-"., • " Till all is over !" The military man stares in unbelief . »tthe civilian and says, shortly: "Pish! He's not going to die. I've seen hundreds wounded in the same place get well!" •■ " Bufc not so wounded ! Don't look inewcfazJous. Do I look as if / doubted ?" and there are tears in Barnes's eyes, and in hie voice too, "for that matter. . And the grim soldier, who is better in the field than in the hospital, gazes at him and knows that his companion believe? with all ' his heart what he says with his tongue. " But his wound is in his leg !" still dissents de Belloc—who won't believe, if poseible to doubt. "The ball entered his leg; but Antonie had fired a little the first, and his pistol being lowered, the bullet struck the barrel and glanced up into his body, coursing along the external iliac artery and tearing it to pieces. On my honour as a man, hell bleed to death, perhaps in five minutes." "And you can do'nothing?" " Even with instruments I could not save him—the artery is so destroyed !—Now will you tell him or shall I ?" "You!" says de Belloc, "for I might "have received the Englishman's apology and thi3 would not have happened. I feel as if his death was upon me !" He goes sadly to the boy upon whose forehead death has already placed his hand and made it white, aiid kisses him and says " Earewell!" then turns away and looks out on the water, though he can .hardly see—for the moment his eyes are dim with sorrow. Kicking the pistol away with his foot, Barnes places himself beside the now almost helpless sufferer; takes his head upon his lap, moistens his forehead with the spirits Mateo has brought, and pours ■water down his throat ;■ for the bi&y complains of thirst. Then bending , down to him he whispers that he is to die! And the dying murmurs back to flum : "I have guessed that I would Hot live, ever since Sis bullet struct me. That was the reason I tried to stand up for another ghot—l wished to kill Mm, that he might pass away with me, and I might leave no vengenceonmy sister and my but it. always comes to us—in the third. generation." " What comes?" whispers Barnes, -half leeqlleeting the wofds 6f ; . "The Vendetta! I have left my sister one !" and then he sighs, and after a gasp *>r two continues : " I had sooner she ipr-get me than £hat the memory of my death destroyed her life." His words are very faint now. The American suddenly thinks if ' he; can perhaps compress and hold the artery with his hand so as to partially stop the 4'earfal .flaw of 'blood, he may keep life'in him till his sister comes. But as lie stoops. 4own to do so, there isanbissolhorseß- and lof people dismounting in .haste, and the, sound of a voice in the curiously like the, on;e nrorJßurijigiin.Jbis par, now that it is subdued and sad. Whether lasfcjmoment upon earth tome Vcdult'power from the world w<? f, .Ksre-jfo,.#aser>»comes: us .and gives ; ps faculty to see and kn&ty "thinjpthat in the/Jfesfli'. ''yrauM.' voj~he.'. ! so?Bibl?, >- r tell us; but, as Barnes .'hears, the dying boy seems "tp -see through the olifffl.of eona- ■ fi[ fb%fc aM the white.Walls of ,- *md the .diiaage girovJe ; tbab Bb&nis between the owe Wβ lovee, >for J|e murmurs," MymtescA-rr-Shßia there—l se?, her JV—anA Aohi m^aclf her dressT and kisses fier flowers and smiles,, end then struggling %0- -feivesj £t one last-and-great--cry-of 1% MASHJMtft on the, % ki fiMwh,: „,. ; t ;;„ r? .., , :} ; ,c; ;

And from behind the inn comes her voice in happy return : " Antonio ! my brother ! I am here t" But as she speaks death comes and takes the boy, leaving the smile of welcome on his face.

De Belloc, with a hoarse voice,* after a muttered prayer or curse, says : " My God ! It is-his sister !" and tabes up the pistol to hide it from her. As he does so,she comes on the balcony above, turns with- a little laugh to Danella and Tomasso, who follow her, crying merrily, "He is here !—you heard his voice ?" while she looks eagerly about for him. From the place where Marina stands she cannot seethe body on the beach below for a projecting ledge of rocks ; and Barnes, hardly knowing what he does, covers with his handkerchief the face of her dead brother. But as he does so, she sees the American's head, and recognising, waves her hand gaily to him, then laughs and calls to him, "He's down there, I suppose?" and running to the stairs, in that moment of joy, forgetful of the fatigue of her long night and morning ride, she comes down foM'iew the sight the passions of men have prepared for her, As she descends, there is no brighter or fairer sight than this girl. The gay colours of her dress—for she now wears the native costume of .her country — embellish and develop the lithe grace and agilejbeauty of her form. Her tace is flushed with expectation, and though anxious, there is in her eyes a .flash of hope and love that makes them scintillate with happiness. She is utterly unoonscious of what is before her, for she laughs again, and says : " Your note frightened us ; but I've heard his voice, so he must be well—where is he ? —My brother !" Neither of the men attempt to answer her. The captain still looks at the sea, playing unconsciously with the broken pistol he has taken iv his hand. The American forces himself to turn to her. As he looks, she sees for the first time the silent form upon the shingle, and gazing at it for a moment she begins to pant and gasp, for she knows the uniform her brother wears. " Who is he ?—What is that ? Can ypu not speak ?" Unable to bear the suspense, she takes a step towards the figure, and says, "Let me see!" Thencriee, "Holy Virgin! You are afraid?"—for Barnes's hand in pity is pub out to stop her. But struggling with him she pulls away the handkerchief, and sees her dead brother's face. Barnes had hoped that she would faint, bub at first she does not seem to understand, and cries " He called to me—Marina! a cry of welcome ! This cannot be !" Then, stooping down, she whispers his name ; falls upon his face and kisses ib, and fondles ib as brutes do their young, thinking to pet them back to life. When she sees he does not answer or return her caresses, her hand goes straight to his heart and feels for the life that is gone ; and then she gives a long gasping moan of agony, for at last she believes, and slowly says, " You have brought me. here— for this!" and shudders and covers her face with her hands, and sways, and is about to fall. But suddenly another thought comes to her; she becomes a different being ; her eyes begin to flash and Bcintillate; she stands erect again—and cries: "Show me who has killed him!"— and seeing the Frenchman standing with the broken pistol in his hand— w Ah !—it was you !" and comes towards him with a look in her eyes thab makes him shudder. Andr de Belloc in his time had faced many a deadly fire and seen many a desperate deed done both in coolness and in anger; but he burns pale as he sees the insanity of rage that glitters in the girl's face; though he simply answere "No!" and she believes him and asks : " Who has done this thing ? You dared not tell me of my brother's death !—tell me who haskilled him !"

De Bolloc, pointing to the water, says, " An officer on the ship now leaving Corsica !"

Barnes follows his hand and sees the English gunboat has taken np the men who pursued it, and is now well under weigh down the harbour.

The girl's eyes rest upon the man-of-war that is now fast putting its hull below the horizon, and linger upon it is if she would draw the great ship back to her by the very power, of her will. Then she ■suddenly cries, " The flag is English! I shall find him! 1 will repay! lam a Corsican !" and begins to mutter wildly to herself.

Musso Danella and old Tomasso, who have stood behind her whilo she is doing this—for the affair has lasted but a minute —look gloomily at her; perhaps a slight smile of some cherished hope lights Danella's face as he gazes at her loveliness, for the girl is even more beautiful in her passion than she was before. Then she speaks aloud again—and now looks like the priestess of some heathen shrine that savages have dedicated to the god of Hate—"No one shall reproach me with letting my brother's murderer live t No one shall say the Rimbecco to me ! I will avenge, for I have sworn a Vendetta .'" At this the old Corsican, her fosterfather, kneeling reverently at her feet, says in his hate, " Responde .'" And the girl, looking down at the old man, sees her brother's corpse and moans— "It will not bring him back to me !"—and cries " Antonio i with a scream that cannot be described; then sinks senseless as her brother, upon whose cjay she falls.

A few weeks afterwards the English gunboat Sealark took part .in the bombardment of Alexandria, and under the Egyptian guns lost some officers and men.

(To be Continued.)