Martinsburg gazette. [volume] (Martinsburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1833-1855, 1836-06-16

chef was taken from my eyes, found
myself in the presence of the dreaded
brigand, MICHAEL BARossINI. He
was man of herculean proportions,
with large dark eys, and matted locks
thickly falling over his sun burnt
cheeks. He eyed me with savage fe.
rocity, but there was something noble
in his appearance, which led me to ex-
pect that my appeal to his mercy
would not be Intellectual. But the
death OF his brother was too young in
his memory, and all my words wore of
no avail. The Engishman's blood
must be she'd" he CRIED, "to satisfy
my murdered brother"
Entreaties were ofno avail he was
firm and resolute, and having given
me few moments for preparation, he
turned away to fondle his child, boy
of about three years old, who came
running towards him. | thought it
strange that after deciding upon such
an attrocious act, and with the cxpec-
tation distinguishing fellow creature
in his mind, he could caress his child,
and display so much of human emo
ton. At length, putting the little boy
from him, he turned savagely towards
me, and ordered his men to conduct
me to the place OF execution.
This was the brink of a precipice,
which it was fearful to look down.
Gracious Heaven +" cried, you
are not going to dash me down this
precipice?"
"Not alive" growled one Of the
banditti: "you will fall down, when
the Captain has nicked you, and spare
us the trouble"
The few moments that ensued were
solemn and awful: | stood upon the
brink of eternity; the savage hercu-
lean brigand was preparing his rifle for
the death-shot, and the brigands were
gathering around him, anxious for the
horrid sight that was to ensue. AT
length, every thing was ready; Mi
chael Barossini took up his position,
and ordered his men to stand away
from him; the rifle was uplifled, and
the savage eyes of the brigand were
taking aim at my heart; at that mo-
ment the brigand's child, who had no
knowledge of the dreadful proceedings
that were going on, came dancing up
towards me. A thought struck me
that this child might be made the in.
strument Of my preservation. darted
forward, snatched the boy in my arms,
and then cried out to the brigand to
fire !
The rifle fell from Barossni's hand,
and he was coming towards me as if
for the purpose of tearing the child
from my breast. But drew towards
the precipice, and holding the boy
stretched over it, | demanded my life
as the condition of the safety Of the
| boy.
Barossni, stung to the quick, seized
up his rifle, and was presenting it again,
when his wife rushed upon him, held
his arm, and besought him to save her
child.
The scene was solemn and striking.
The natural feelings of the man were
combating with the savage ferocity of
the brigand. Barossin remained with
| his eyes fixed upon me, and his child,
who still remained suspended over the
precipice, and crying aloud for his fa-
Their to save him. The mother hung
upon the brigand's arm, and endeavor
ed to move him from his purpose. Ma
ture triumphe1, and he cried, "Give
me my child and CO."
"And what security shall have for
my safety 2" enquired.
"The brigand's honor" was Barros
sini's reply.
Seeing that hesitated, he continu-
ed, you do not know me. You have
not heard of Michael Barossini, or you
would have known that, brigand tho
he be, his word. has never yet been
broken. But here stranger" he con-
tinued, throwing dagger towards me
stake that and the boy with you, till
my men have placed you in safety
The nobleness Of this action was in
striking contrast with his previous con-
duct. | took the dagger, and gave
my honor that the boy should be re.
turned in safety. 81 expect it," Baro-
ssini replied, $50 long as the boy is
safe, you are safe also," He looking
at the boy as if wishing to embrace
| him, but evidently thinking that the
action might make me suspicious, he
mastered his feelings. But the mother
could not assume such heroism. She
saw the boy in my one hand, while
the other held the brigand's dagger,
and she came towards me beseechlng
me that | would permit her to kiss her
child.
The look, the tone, the action of the
woman were all so touching, that what
ever little heroism may have possess