The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-04-29

give it; but such was not the artists pur-
pose. He suffered Steffano TO worry and
fret and waste his energy in futile plunges
and blows, for more than once he sought to
strike and cut as with an edged sword; suf
fered him to thoroughly display himself,
and then, with twist which he knew we'll
how to apply, he caught the opposing rapier
by its point and its hilt and sent it flying
into the river
'Denaro! Your rapier Give it to meV'
And the Marquis i'll his wild paroxySm
of fury and chagrin, grasped at its hilt as
though he would have taken it.
But the Count sprang away from him,
exclalming as he did so:
mo, no, Steffano. 1t is too valuable a
weapon TO lose, and I should certainly lose
if l lent it to you"
Next, as soon as the mad man could col
lect his thoughts, he turned with a fierce
oath-a volley of oaths-toward the calm
and tranquil painter, with an evident intent
to attack him with his fists
Zanoni saw and appealed to the Count
and the other two. Would they not take
their friend in hand and help him to stop the
disgracefDl scene.
And Count Denaro, you will allow me
to thank you for your efforts already made
and let me trust that you and your friends
will do me simple justice in your testimony,
should l ever be accused of having drawn
my sword against noble of Parma"
The Count, whatever may have been his
deeper feelings toward the man whose
studio the lady of his love so often and so
willingly visited, could not but acknowledge
that in the present instance he was not only
blameless, but that he had borne himself in
a manner that merited the highest praise
and respect; and he promised that he would
not fail to bear testimony to that end should
occasion require.
And what had kept the Marquis out of the
way while this conference had been going
ons Had he been at liberty, in his infuriate
have exchanged word 1t had happened
thus:
One of the twain who had thus far stood
back. had, at the moment of greatest need,
CALAMITY thrown himself into the breach.
He was a small, delicate, effeminate-look-
ing youth of one or two and twenty, a hand
some lad, and son of the Count John
Vavallia; his name. Henri. He had watched
the scene narrowly; his heart growing bit
ter and more bitter with disgust against
Steffano, while it warmed with admiration,
if not with real love and reverence, to-
ward the noble painter. In the end, when
the madman's sword had been wrested from
him and he had made the demand of Denaro
for another weapon, Henri had borne all he
could bear, and when the Count had re-
fused him, and the Marquis had opened the
flood-gates of his awful profanity, the
slightly-framed youth had put aside the last
of his fear-not bodily fear, but rather a
dread of being mixed up i'll a public brawl
the last of his scrupleS disappeared, and
he came boldly to the front.
With quick, firm grip, Heuri Vavallia
took the Marquis by the arm, whirling him
around by the exercise of strength which
no one would have believed, from his APP
pearance, that he could have possessed.
'Steffano Farnesel Listen to me. If
you do not give over this disgraceful onset
If you modest the painter further-I
swear, by all hold sacred, that youshall be
expelled from the Correggio, and you know
l will do it. Beware! will have no more
of it,
A single oath had escaped the ruffian's
lips. and then he had backed down. He
knew very well that young Vavallia, being
President of the club, as we'll as one of its
principal supports, could, if he chose, exc
cute his throat; and, mad as he was, the
thought of expulsion from the most select
and the wealthiest social club in Parma
sobered him for the time; but the look he
cast upon his late antagonist, as he suffered
himself to be led away, was not pleasant
one. His heart was, ii possible, more bitter
than before, and the spasrnodic working OF
his dark features plainly told that thoughts
of vengeance were busy within.
Meantime ragged, shock-headed boy of
the street tribe had diyed into the river and
brought to the shore the unfortunate napier,
and, having partially wiped it on the tat
ters of his frock, extended it to its owner
The Marquis took it--a beautiful weapon,
of Milan make, its golden hilt set with
precious StoneS-and ran his eyes over the
cleaning blade. Denaro, seeing that the
boy had been either overlooked or forgot
ten, gave him large piece of silver and
sent him away.
A moment later, Stetfano, quivering at
every joint, and with a horrible impreca-
ton on his lips, brought the bright blade
down across his knee, thinking thus to
break it; but its temper withstood his
mighty effort. Then, with another oath,
and before his companions could interfere,
he had driven the sharpp point into the earth
sent it deep down, until the whole blade
was buried-and then, with his foot upon
the pommel, he snapped the hilt and the
bright steel asunder.
The painter, who had gone but a short
distance away, hearing the sharp swapping
of the breaking blade, instinctively turned
his head and looked back, meeting as he did
so the vengeful look of Steffano fixed
upon him-a look deadly in its blackness
and hate.
go! COP the Marquis articulated, in a
tone partly shrek and partly a howl
''The day of reckoning between US will
come, and when it does. look to yourselfw
At this point his companions, seeing that
a mob was beginning to gather, took him
forcibly in hand and led him away Then
Zanoni with his head bowed and his arms
folded on his bosom, slowly and thought
fully pursued his wonted course.