Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1885-03-06
THE BELL OF SAN MARCO.
A Wild Tale of Strange Span
ish Murder.

this age of gentler and more humane
principles, 1t 8 nevertheless true, and
the leading facts so well authenticated
that feel obliged to conceal the real
names OF the persons and places con-
cerned therein.
Hard by tho beautiful old church of
San Marco there dwelt, at the beginning
of this century, and honest bricklayer
Marco Gomez by name. He was poor,
excepting in an upright and sunny dis
position, ever ready to share what he
had of this worlds goods with his
neighbor, and day after day contentedly
eating his gaSpacho and pra sing God
and his patron saint for their manifold
mercles to him, poor sinner-a guile
less, happy nature, such as one often,
and perhaps only, finds among the
lower classes in Spain.
One sultry morning in May, Marco
was awakened by n sharp knocking at
the door of his tile-roofed cabana, and
fastening to answer the summons he
started at the appearance of two masked
men, who told him hurr edly, in courte-
GUS. though peremptory tones, that
they desired his services in demolishing
and rebuilding brick wall, and babe
him take the necessary implements.
him to carriage stationed n few yards
off, The carriage set tforth at first slow
ly, and gradually at brislier pace.
Marco had by this tine partially 1ecov-
cred his equanimity, and the promise of
a remunerat on, which to him sounded
like unbounded wealth, further tended
to restore h s courage.
"Ah,' thought he, Il am to aid in
concealing treasure-perhaps bags of
precious stones they say such Things
are often done. Well, what care for
precious stores? l shall be rich, and
Maria la GitanIlla shall have bright,
new pair of ear-rir gS to sport at the
fair Thus buried in his pleasing re-
Elections, Marco hardly noticed how far
they had driven. Very far, though, for
1t was fully half an hour since they had
left the cabana. AT length the carriage
drew up, and he was hel. ed out by his
mysterious companions and led into
what he though must lie patio, for in
the lence he could hear the murmur OF
n fountain, and the air was laden with
the frNganc. OF orange blossoms. How
came it that to Marcos fancy the gentle
ripple and low murmur of that fountain
Were as the weeping and wailing of one
in sore distressp He followed his
guides blindly across the patio, through
massive gateway which clanked
heavily behind them, up q staircase, and
ut last he was allowed to uncover his
eyes.
They are in a large square room,
lighte by an oil lamp standing on the
floor in the corner. By this imperfect
light Mar, o is abe to note the dress
and carriage of h companions-cabai-
leroS undoubtedly perhaps mobiles of
high degree. One of these came for
ward, while the other left the room,
and drawing n line on the bare white
wall, showed him where he was to tear
1t down. Marco went eheerfully to
work, and, in spite of its great thick
ness, in less than half an hour he had
opened space about five feet square,
according to Instructions. Albeit a
little surprised at the size of the open
ing, Marco suspected nothing until the
door opened to admit the man who had
previously left the room, but not alone,
for this time he half carried, half
dragged young girl, clothed in black
and so closely yelled that her features
Were scarcely discernible. The poor
girl was but half conscious; undoubtedly
she had been heavily drugged, but
nevertheless she made some faint resist
ance. The men strove to smother her
moans-one holding her fast while the
other covered her mouth with his hand
and thus, with many muttered oath,
they thrust her into the space Just
opened. The helpless victim fell back
apparently lifeless. The petriied spec
tator of this cruel scene was reused by
threatening voice, commanding him
TO rebuild The tOal. The wretched man,
frozen with horror, fell upon his knees
and implored mercy mercy for him
self and the poor girl In vain. Their
hearts were calous-they knew no
mercy. Raising him roughly from the
floor, the two men forced him to begin
his terrible task.
''Oh, senors, for the love of God, kill
me, but spare me this terrible crime!
Have pity-if not upon me, upon hcr!'
Fool! do you not see she is dead !?
Do you wish TO join herp"
But why pro!ong this frightful sceneP
The devillsh work was accomplished,
and the hapless victim of mans inhu-
manity consigned to IA living tomb. Like
one in dream, Marco submitted to be
once more blindfol led and led down to
the courtyard; but bark! What was
that? The bell of San Marco striking
one! Yes, there was no mistake; it
was the familiar sound Marco had
learned to love-the great hour-bel OF
San Marco. Was he drea1ningp Here,
SO far from his house-and yet it rang
out clear and loud and near-rang out
hope; and the poor bricklayer could
scarce Restrain cry of Joy. Ali San
Marco had helrd his agonized PRAYER
IN the fatal chamber above-his patron
had heard and answered!
All night long Marco PAGES his little
roomi no rest for him tonight; he must
not sleep-sleep might bring forgetful-
ness. He must remember /. remem-
ber All! what is this strange dlzzi-
ness9 :. AT length day dawns. One
hour more and Marco is stand ng before
the alcalde relating his tale of horror.
80. Eyes. Senior, they once more led
me down to the patio. We We're not
without the gates of the city, as had
supposed, for at that moment heard.
All! what was 1t heardp
oh, my head!' and Marco falls
back senseless. All day and all night
do the authorities make fruitless search
.-house after house, all over the oity;
in vain, they must needs give up in de-
spair. and leave the poor girl to her
fate. Marco lies dangerously III, in de
lirium, tended by his faithful niece,
Maria la Gitanilla, who sits by his side
listening TO his incessant rawlings. and
from time 10 time moistening his
parched and feyerish linz. Not q word