The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1867-01-19
THE EN- GINEER
ACURIOUs STORY.
rCoutinued from Last Monday. ]

lContinued from Last Monday.]
Iseryed with the feet, of course, while
the war lasted, and when it was over,
went wandering off again, rejoicing in
nv liberty. This time went to Cana
da, and, after working on q railway then
i'm progress near the American frontier,
/ presently passed over into the States;
iourneyed from north to south; crossed
the Rocky Mountains; tried month or
two of life in the gold country; and
then, being seized with sudden,
aching, unaccountable longing to revls-
it that solitary grave 30 far away on the
Italian coast, l turned my face once
more towards Europe.
Poor little grave! / found it rank
with weeds, the cross half shattered, the
inscription half effaced. 1t was as if no
one had loved him or remembered him.
| went back to the house in which we
had lodged together. The same people
were still living there, and made me
kindly welcome. l stayed with them
for some weeks. weeded, and planted,
and trimmed the grave with my own
hands, and set up fresh cross in pure
white marble. 1t was the first season OF
rest that had known since l laid him
there; and when ut last / shouldered
nv knapsack and set forth again to bat
tie with the world, promised myself
that, God willing, would creep beck to
Rocca, when my days drew near to end
ing, and be buried by his side.
From hence, being, perhaps, . little
less inclined than formerly for very dis
tant parts, and willing to keep within
reach of that grave, / went no farther
than Mantau, where I engaged myself
as an engine-driver on the line, then not
long completed, between that city and
Venice. Somehow, although l had
been trained to the working
engineering, I preferred in these
days to earn my bread by driv-
ing. l liked the excitement of it, the
sense of power, the rush of the air, the
roar of the fire, the fitting of the land
scape. Above all, enjoyed to drive
night express. The worse the weather,
the better it suited with my sullen tenn
per. For was as hard, and harder than
ever. The years had done nothing to
soften me. They had only confirmed all
that was blacklist and bitterest in my
heart.
1 continued pretty faithful to the
Mantua line, and had been working on
/ it steadily for more than seven months,
when that which AIN about to relate
took place., -...... ....
1t was in the month of March. The
weather had been unsettled for some
days past, and the nights stormy; and
at one point along the line, near Ponte
di Brenta, the waters had risen and
swept away some seventy yards OF em-
bankment. Since this accident, the
trains had all been obliged to stop ut n
certain spot between Padua and Ponte
di Brenta, and the passengers, with their
luggage, had thence to, be transported
in all kinds of vehicles, by circuitous
country road, to the nearest station on
the other side of the gap, where another
train and engine awaited them.
This, of course, caused great confu-
sion and annoyance, put all our time
tables wrong, and subjected the public
to q large amount of inconvenience. In
the mean while an army of navvies was
drafted to the spot, and worked day
and night to repair the damage. At
this time / was driving two through
trains each day; namely, one from Man
tua to Venice in the early morning, and
and a return train from Venice to Man.
tua in the afternOon,-a tolsrably full
days work, covering about one hundred
and ninety miles of ground, and occu-
pying between ten and eleven hours. l
was therefore not best pleased, when,
Oh the third or fourth day after the ac-
cident, was informed, that, in addition
to my regular allowance OF work, l
should that evening be required to drive
q special train to Venice. This special
train, consisting of an engine, o single
carriage, and break-van, was to leave
Mantua platform at eleven; at Padua
the passengers ~ere to alight and find
post-chaises waiting to. convey them to
Ponte di Brenta; ut Ponte di Brenta an
| other engine, carriage, and break-yan
were to he in readiness. was charged
to accompany them throughout.
"Corpo di Bacco," said the clerk who
gave me my orders, "you need not look
so black, man. You are certain Of q
handsome gratnity. Do You know who
goes with youi" -1 p o'
"Eot l." 3. -...
"Not you, indeed. Why, it's the Duca
Loredano, the Neapolitan ambassador"
"Loredanop / stammered. "What
Loredanoi There was a Marchese-" =
"Certo. Hewas the Marchese Loreda-
NO some years ago; but he has como into
his duke edom since thep.nF s.FF.r -
"He must be very old man BY this
time" n''. .. q 80
"Yes, hs is old; but what Of thati He
ia as hale, and bright, and stately as
ever. You have seen him beforei'
"Yes,"I said, turning away; II have
seen him,-yeafs ago"
"You have heard Of his marriageT
Ishook my head. +.
The clerk chuckled, rubbed his hands,
and shrugged his shoulders.
"An extraordinary affair."" he said.
''Made . tremendous esclandre at the
time. He married his mistrees-quite
common, vulgar girl-s GenOese-very
handsome; But not received, Of sonrse.
Nobody visits her." 4
Married her" I exclaimed. "Impos-
sible." " %
"True, I assure you" s.5.s.g,
/ put my hand to my head. I'felt as
IL had had blow. q i..-i.- 80 !,
"Does she docs she 60 to-pightf' I
faitered asa. Sc a-sE -..l So
20 dear, yes-goes everywhere with
him-never iets him ont Of her sight.
You1l see her-la bella Dachessar' =
With this my informant laughed, and
rubbed his.hands agxin, aud went back,
to his oficA sGks bfI o.
: The day went by, ! scarcely, know
how, except that my whole soul was in
q tupgl. Of rfGe II and sittsEpsss. I re.
US, and at t930s Iwss onea aEaiH atl
tn atufion. Ihsd examined the engine;