The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1854-08-05
an european Talt.
THE HAUNTED GARDEN.

|
the Col dc Viso. He was descending towards
the city of Saluzzo as fast as was possible
under the weight ola heavy PEASANTS blouse.
heavy cavalry sword bulging out under it,
Il heavy knapsack, very heavy boots, and one
of those heavy cooked hats which the Pied.
montcse still persist in wearing.
The young man whom he had ovcltalcn,
and to whom he addressed those abrupt words
walked on silently. lie either did not wish
for any company, or did not like that of the
rough wayiarcr who had got abreast of him.
But there was no escape.
Il say again" repeated the old man, ''God
bless the Marquis of Saluzzo -
"Wcll say it," answered the Youth gruf1ly;
81 don't hinder you. Though don't see the
use Of wasting prayers upon bcggarly Mar
quis.'
"Beggarly! Diln't he cut the wonderful
road across the Alps, that shortcns my march
from Luccrna-and, for the matter of that.
yours, too z"
~ don t come from Lucerna, was the sulky
answered
"Wcll wherever You do come from, you
ought to be thankful to the old noblcman,
who in past time, cut such capital road"
81 have other things to think about" re-
turned the gloomy young man. besides, if
you have any prayers TO spare, offer them up
for our beloved exile, Charles Albert, whom
God preserved
"Take care" said the old soldier, looking
round cautiously, ''mind what you are talk
ing about. Who knows?-that waysidc cross,
that rest and be- thankful that boulder, may
be ambuscadcs Yon may he Il white-livcrcd
Austr ian spy for aught know"
"Don't provoke me, old fellow"
'Not L.. The old man stopped TO look
iixedly at his new friend IL don't care
pinch of gunpowder what you arc, Int if you
are an honest man-there! take it," lie
thrust out llish hand The young man graspcd
it. If you are spy, denouncc me as soon as
you get into the town-for here goes plump
into your trap Gf you are setting one)--may
| God, in his mercy, preserve our dear master
Charles Albert, i'll his checrlcss exile" They
both stood in the road, right hand in right
hand; and lifting their hats, jointly Offered
up fcrvcnt prayer to heaven. Alas history
if events of yesterday may be deemed his
tory attcsts that their prayer was not heard.
| There were no more reserves after this, cs-
pecially when the young peasant showed un-
dcrhis lrock part of an infantry uniform. The
Older pedestrian never kept secrets, and was
very fond of talking. Like most individuals
| of his class, his own affairs formed the staple
| of his talk; because, what interested him was
| pleasing as he thought TO his listeners.
Gas for me-" he began, IL was born, to
the best of my belief at Turin though as both
my parents were in the army (my mother was
a vivandicrcl, ! cannot be sure of my birth
place to within hundred miles. Twas bred
with Il sword in my hGnds, and was hardly
able to toddlc, when they cappcd me on horse
back. That's few years ago; yet, l may
sa..', I've only just dismountcd.
"On the retired list, suppose" said the
| youth.
Right" replied the veteran, Furnishing
hiswalking stick like drummajor on parade
He added, ''our Royal master Charles Albert
God bless him, rclui ted me also with the
highest rank it is possible TO attain"
"lndced !" The younger pedestrian looked
at the humble attire and heavy knapsack Of
his companion with some surprise
"lou seem astonishcd, young man: but
know that in me you behold an cx.troop full
sergeant ma jor Of the King of Sardinia
Second Dragon Guards. Don't be dllidcnt
for though you arc only private, | am not
proud"
Being now put at his ease, the youth joined
more freely in the conversation. lie narrated
in turn, his private history. His native vii
lagc lay on the other side of the Alps: and
after the rising at Milan he had taken up rms
with the rest. alas" he continued sin
vain; the Austrians beat us at Novarra. Our
independence is, for awhile, destroyed; and
our King is a miserable exile. shall never
bear to sec my home again"
Then you do not intend to return to it."
Never. The city of Saluzzo is my adopted
abiding place: mean to die there"
The troop-sergcant looked towards his COM
panion, and saw thst he covered his eyes with
his sleeve as if to hide tears. "Ilalt,' he cy
claimed whats this? soldier, and snivell-
ing! But forgot, you are only a Prorinciale
IT mere militiaman."
i cannot help it, replied the stranger, "and
would not help it if | could. 1t is not for
myself, but for others, that feel. If you
had had everybody you cared for dragged
away from you, besides being yourself beg
CARED perhaps you would find tear in your
eye, Monsieur cx-troop sergeant major"
"Pcrhaps should" returned the old troop
or, burning printing in an old pocket pistol to
light his pipe. 81 have had my troubles too.
By-thc-by, whereabouts on the other side of
the Alps were you born?"
"At Banoglo. My father was farmer. lie
died when was ten years old. Two years
after my mother was taken from me, and
!