The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1879-06-06
THE DIAMOND CROSS.


warnings; but there was one In parucu-
lar that heard it, to whose heart every
stroke of that ancient monitor went
deep and admonishing; that one was a
youth of about 10 years OF age, who,
having emerged somewhat abruptly
from a somewhat notorious gambling
house in Piccadilly, was slowly and sad
ly vending his way toward Westminster
bridge. in troubled abstraction of
mind. such as that which, in similar
cases of despair and remorse, has, ere
now, led many an unfortunate being to
commit the greatest of all crimes and
mistakes-suicide.
The name of this forlorn wanderer
was Salvatore Ronzzi. He was tall and
very handsome, with lustrous black
curling hair, and equally lustrous large
black eyes, the tender and pensive ex-
preston of which had the fascination OF
disposing all carts in his favor.
His dress, well cut and fashionable,
but black, with the deep Grape hat-band
on his hat, denoted some new and recent
bereavement; that bereavement was a
widowed mother, who had died within
the year, leaving her only and darling
child. Salvatore, ere those fine dark eyes
had scarcely ceased to be moist over
his mothers tomb, had, unluckily, fallen
into bad society, and had given loose to
the reins both of folly and extravaganza.
In a word, he had been led on by de-
signing friend to the gambling table,
and, within the space of one little year,
dissipated the savings and earnings OF
many years, scraped carefully and in
dustriously together by his father, a
jeweler in Regent street, and his
mothers economy, with the only
one desire, to place their son
above the indulgence which he, the
father, himself had known, at least, in
early years, especially when he first ar
rived in this country: for he was an
Italian, as his name impies-a very
poor, but very industrious man, and
honest to an extreme.
Salvatore Ronzzi had just quarreled
with his delusive friend at the gaming
table-his Mephistopheles-had quilted
him and it for the last time, convinced,
but ruined. All the worldly wealth that
now remained to Salvatore were gold
watch, ring of his poor mothers, and
scarcely couple of sovereigns in his
pocket.
Repentance and remorse, the friends
that almost invariably arrive too late
for this world, were his only compan-
ions. He had no thought of commit
ting suicide, however; his only motive
for turning toward Westminster bridge
was an distracted one.
Not wishing to return to his lodgings
in the Strand, where he was in debt, he
continued in contrary direction, pass
ing several people on his way, and one
or two policemen who, seeing his re-
spectacle appearance, passed on and
said nothing. The cold air sweeping
from the Thames toward Chelsea was
the first thing that brought him per-
fectly to his recollection-to sense of
his forlorn and desolate situation-to
prompt him to ask himself what was to
become of him. He felt that he had
no longer friend, a fortune, or home;
then, indeed, as his fearful eyes glanced
over the parapet of the bridge, and he
saw the low, melancholy waters reflect
ing the sad rays of the lamps, he did,
almost, wish that he were sleeping be-
meath those melancholy waves, and that
himself and his folly were hidden from
the world forever.
At this dreary moment day began to
peep through the distant, grey land
scape, and light, which always cheers
and elevates the heart, gave new color
to the distressed mind of Salvatore.
"The world was all before him where
to choose" And then Salvatore resolved,
almost Involuntary, with the dawn to
quit London, and never to return within
the shadow of his parents tomb till he
had redeemed, by some honest and in
dustrious Gazing, the faith with which
they had so confdingly left him; the
faith of deserving all that they had done
for him; the trust of affection, and the
trust of love. A deep feeling of anguish
filed his breast as he thought over the
abuse he had made of all the watchful
anxieties they had endured on his ac-
count-especially the anxieties of his
dear old mother, so tender, so vigilant,
who thought the breath of heaven al
most too rough for his cheek.
Cheered by the resolution he had
formed, Salvatore wandered on till he
arrived at the terminus of railroad,
which led far away to large town by
the seaside, to which he determined to
proceed. He knew not why, but a
spirit-hke pressure, an unaccountable
impulse, hurried him on and, in a very
short period, he was steaming far distant
from the busy scene of his birth, his
early folly, and his first sufferings.
The town at which he arrived-we
suppress the name-it is sufficient for
the interest of our narrative that it was
a gay and bustling watering place, about
fifty miles or so from London, full of
varied interests and extremes, like most
other places of necessity and opulence
The first thought which occurred to
Salvatore was to provide himself with a
cheap lodging suited to his now scanty
means, and suited to the retreat TO which
he felt it was necessary for the first time
to remove from inquiring lips and OBJ
servant eyes, old associates coming
from London iii particular
A little chamber, sparingly supplied
with furniture, in the house of widow,
soon taken, seemed to answer amply his
present purpose. A neat bed, painted
.to.l <x,,< 10. ~a n III IL