THE SEARCHER FOR THE DEAD.

LOVED Wolfgang, loved Wolfgang, where art thou lying now, With the red gore on thy breast, and the turf upon thy brow; Sick and sore at heart I seek thee all this lone and awful night, Midst the shadowy graves that rise in the misty faint moonlight.

Ah, my brother, have I found thee? up I tear each trampled turf,
As the stones are upward hurled by the maddened ocean surf ;
Back I drag the blood-stained earth as I toil and toil away,
And then on bended knee I mark the breaking of the day.

Oh, my brother, I have found thee cold and death-like as thou art,
I clasp thee, oh, my Wolfgang, I clasp thee to my heart;

I look into thy lifeless eyes; I know that thou art dead;
And I think of poor old mother with a strange and sickly dread.

One single lock I take from thy curling rich brown hair,
And I kiss thy marble brow with the love that is despair;
Then so gently and so lovingly upon thy silent breast,
I lay the gore-stained sods, and leave thee to thy rest.

CONTENTS.

CHAP.

I. THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER,

II. THE EARTHQUAKE,

III. THE DRUMMER OF ONEGLIA,

IV. THE EVANGELIST OF THE PLACE DOMINIQUE,

V. HOW I WAS ARRESTED IN GENOESE WATERS,

VI. MOBLOT LE BRAVE!

XXXV. THE BLIND MAIDEN OF CASTLE-CUILLÉ,

264

LA DEBONA DO.

CHAPTER I.

THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER.

"AND so you really are going to Würtemburg? I am afraid you will find it well-nigh impossible to get on," said the German, drawing a huge cloud of smoke from his lips as he lowered his cherry-wood pipe, and blinked solemnly through his spectacles at me, while he ejaculated, “Unmöglich—unmöglich -unmöglich" over and over again.

"Stay," cried he at last, "I will aid you, I shall give thee letters to a true friend of mine, who lives in Stutgardt, and he will direct thee;" and so saying he called the waiter for pen and paper, and leisurely set to work to compose an epistle.

"What dost thou say thou goest to Würtemburg for? and thou dost go by France ?" and the spectacles glowered upon me. I sipped my cafe-noir leisurely, and the German as leisurely wrote on; but every now and then he stole a long look at me, and then wrote down a few words more.

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