Litchfield enquirer., 1874-06-04

stirred nor observed me when passed
 near him, said to myself that, breeding
 there so intensely in shadow of the sign
 of redemption, he might pass for an image
 of youthful remorse. Then, as he never
 moved, I wondered whether it was not deeper passion even than repentance. Sud
 denly he looked up, and I recognized our
 friend Angelo-not immediately, but in
 response to a gradual movement of recog-
 milton in his own face. But seven weeks
 had passed since our meeting, and yet he
 looked three years older. It seemed to me
 that he had lost flesh, and gained expres-
 sion. His simple-souled smile was gone;
 there was no trace of it in the shy mis-
 trust of his greeting. He looked graver,
 manlier, and very much less rustic. He
 was equipped in new garments of a pre-
 tentious pattern, though they were care lessly worn, and bespattered with mud. remember he had flaming orange necktie, which harmonized admirably with his pie turesque coloring. Evidently he was greatly altered; as much altered as if he 1 had made voyage round the world. offered him my hand, and asked if he re- membered me.
 ''Per Dio!" he cried. "With good reason." Even his voice seemed changed; 1t was fuller and harsher He bore us 6 1 grudge. wondered how his eyes had
 been opened. He fixed them on me with
 dumb expenditures, which was half
 appealing and half ominous. He had been
 breeding and breeding on his meager bar
 gain till the sense of wrong had become a
 kind of smotnered fear. I observed all | thls with poignant compassion, for it l seemed to me that he had parted with
 something more precious even than his 1 imperial intaglio. He had lost his boyish ignorance-that pastoral peace of mind
 which had suffered him to doze there so
 gracefully with his head among the flow
 CTS. Bnt even in his resentment he was
 simple still. "Where is the other one your friend?" he asked.
 He's at home-he's still in Rome" it?"
 ''Nothing. He has it still" He shook his head dolefulIy. s'Will he give it back to me for twenty-five scudiP" "lm afraid not. He values it'' "l believe so. Will he let me see it?"
 "That you must ask him. He shows it to no one.
 "He's afraid of being robbed, eh? That
 proves its value! He hasn't shown it to leweler-to a, what do they call them?- lapidary?"
 'To no one. You must believe me- "But he has cleaned it. and polished it, and discovered what it is ?" ''It's very old. It's hard to say.'' ''Very old! Of course it's old. There arc more years in it than it bought me : sc"di. What does it look likeS Is it red, blue, green, yellow?"
 ''Well. my friend I said, after a mo- ment's hesitation, ''its yellow" H a A. l quickly-'It's what's called a topaz" he cried.
 "Yes, it's what's called topaz" And it's sculptured-that could seel It's an intaglio. Oh, know the names, Whats the figure? A Kings head or n Popes, perhaps, eh? Or the portrait of | some beautiful woman that you read about?'
 l 'It is the figure of an Emperor" l ssWhat is his name?
 "Corps ds CSsstOy' his face flushed,
 and eyes filled with angry tearR l.. Come, said, " see you're sorry to
 have parted with the stone. Some one has been talking to you, and making you 1 discontented."
 "Every one, per bio! Like the finished fool was, couldn't keep my folly to my | self. went home with my eleven scudi, thinking l should never see the end of them. The first thing did was to buy a gilt hair-pin from peddler, and give it to | the Ninetta-a young girl of my village, 1 with whom I had friendship. She stuck 1t into her braids, and looked at herself in the glass. and then asked how I had sud- | denly got so rich! Oh, I'm richer than you suppose, said I, and showed her my money, and told her the story of the stone. She is very clever girl, and it would take a Knowing fellow to have the last word
 with her: She laughed in my face, and I told me was an idiot, that the stone was | surely worth five hundred scuCli; that my forestiere was apitiless rascal; that ought to have brought it away, and shown it to my elders and betters; in. fine, that I might take her word for it, I had held a | fortune in my hand, and thrown it to the ! dogs. And, to wind up this sweet speech, she took out her hairpin, and tossed it into my face. She never wished to see l me again; she had as lief marry a blind beggar at cross-road. What was I to say? She had sister who was waiting 1 maid to 0 fine lady in Rome,- Marcesa, who had 8 priceless necklace made of fine old stones picked up on the Cam pagna. went away hanging my head and cursing my folly: flung my money down Ill the dirt, and spate upon itl At last, to ease my spirit, went to drink a fogtiett0 at the wine-shop. There found three or sour young fellows I knew; I treated them all round; hated my mon- ey, and wanted to get rid of it. Of course they too wanted to know how came by my full pockets. I told them the truth. l hoped they would give me a better ac- count of things than that vixen of Min | etta. But they knocked their glasses on the table, and jeered at me in chorus Any donkey out a-grazing, if he had turn ed up such treasure with his nose, would have taken 1t in his teeth and brought it | home to his master. This was cold com fort; drowned my rage in wine. emp tied one flask after another; for the first time i'll my life got drunk. But can't speak of that night The next day took | what was left of my money to my uncle, ! and told him to give it to the poor, to buy new candlesticks for his church, or to say masses for the redemption of my blaspheming soul. He looked at it very hard, and hoped had come by it honest | ly. was in for it; told him too! He listened to me in silence, looking at me over his spectacles. When had done, he turned over the money in his hands, l and then sat for three minutes with hIs eyes closed. Suddenly he thrust 1t back into my own hands. Keep it-keep it, my son, he said, your wits will never help you to a supper, make the most of what you've got? Since then, do you see, I've been in a fever. can think of nothing else but the fortune I've lost" ''Oh, fortunel" I said, deprecatingly
 "You exaggerate."
 "It would have been fortune to me. A voice keeps ringing in my ear night and day, and telling me could have got
 a thousand zcatdi for it"
 I'm afraid I blushed; turned awaya moment; when I looked at the young man again, his face had kindled. '@Ti-
 berius. eh? A Roman emperor sculptur- ed on big topaz-that's fortune enough for me! Your friends 8 rascal-do you | know that2 dnn't say if for von. I like