Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1892-01-15
n,eaa hard for death, as the ball and chain

for life are particularly dreaded.
As these men stood in the prisoners dock
the day of trial they presented truly ter
rible aspect, unshaven, haggard, with fierce
or lowering faces and frrtive gl,nces. with
gestures of Impotence and rage they
looked indeed capable OF say sinister TN
dertaking. and public sentiment was
strongly against them. The arguments
on both sides were brilliant and euiuent-
HOW she was dead many felt sympathy and
some sorrow for poor Rosina, who had
certainly been inoffensive enough, and in
terest and sympathy are always manifested
for those we are accustomed to see daily;
besides her graceful calling, her generosity
with her fragrant wares had contributed
to make her favorte, and thus, said the
lawyer us he pictured her, graceful, hand
some, generous, kindly and indeed en-
dowed with those numberless pleasant
traits people are wont to discover in us
after death.
The crowd in the hall of justice, as the
imposing and pillared courtroom was
called, hung breathless on the eloquent
lips of the lawyer; even the prisoners mani
tested an interest and listened, doggedly to
be sure, and seemingly in spite of them
selves, as the waves of the flowing and pc
etical language poured from the impas-
stoned lips. ''Such was Rosina as she
walked out of our quiet city that night. lit
tie suspecting her fate, on her way to visit
a poor relative in neighboring city. Born
a peasant, she scorned aught but peas
ants methods of travelling, and alone and
on foot she pursued her way Bent
on her kind and charitable errand,
she approaches the waste, lonely fields
where are the brick kilns; her coming
is marked by these black hearted vii
lains; she never passes the brick kins,
is never seen more after the light from the
blazing furnaces flashes on her beautiful
face Ask these men," the lawyer said,
pointing to the prisoners. where Rosina
isl Then in a deep and thrilling voice he
repeated, his long forefingcr pointing at
the sullen men, "Where is Rosina:"
''IIere!" cried ringing voice. and in the
midst of wild tumult Rosina herse!!
walked with massive dignity down the
great hall between the crowded benches to
the judge, who looked appalled, at what
seemed the substantial ghost of a murdered
woman.
She turned and looked at the prisoners,
babel Of noise prevented. her speaking;
the crowd at length realizing that she must
have a story to tell. became silent.
"Those men there? 1 never saw them
before, they never saw me, for never went
to the brick kilns l took the train, yes,
peasant as am. l took the train did
not walk, signor advocate. l took the
train for Turin"
"Why did you not come befores" asked
the judge.
81 came when my work was finished"
'What work." said the judge.
81 went to kill, not to be killed." Rosina
replied with blood curdling simplicity and
brevity.
"To kill!' gasped the judge. "Who2
What? How?''
''Count Torrani," she replied, with the
same stony calmness. A great shudder
seemed to run through the hall, and the
Judge motioned the gems d'armes nearer.
"You have killed him?" sternly inquired
the judge.
"Alas, no; he had killed himself. When
he heard Lad come to carry out my threat
he cheated me again."
But why did you wish to kill him2"
81 loved him. He promised should be
his wife, the Countess Torrani. He spent
my money He jeered at me. l was a
peasant, he nObeman; could peasant
and an aristocrat, an officer in the Italian
army. mate? He abused me; he turned me
away, then my head went bad. l COULDN'T
think, it was all confused; he took away all
love and hope out of my life; hated him
then; said would kill him, but even that
hope he destroyed with himself. Heaven
itself is against me, and hell will not help
mep' She burst into wild shrek, half
laughter, half an agonizing wall. Those
who head it will never forget it. She fell
on the floor, writhing in agony; people
crowded around her and efforts were made
to restore her; when she finally reganed
consciousness, iG was found that the strain
had been too great, the chord had snapped,
the harmony of life was broken. She had
lost her reason and poor Rosina had be-
come a raving maniac.
The story was confirmed at once. Count
Torrani, dreading her vengeance, had shot
himself: the citizens said, sit would have
been so much simpler to have married
her,
1t turned out that the three prisoners
were ''good men and true,' III spite of their
accusing aspect. They departed from the
ball of justice as heroes, the populace
cheering them as wildly as they had but a
short while before groaned and jeered at
them.
So ended poor Rosina, who lives only in
my memory now: but / never hear that
opera mentioned that shudder does not
pass over me, for no doubt its story. work
ing on a mind already disordered and suf-
fering, suggested to her the sad tragedy
and prompted her to wild and black deed
that only a suicides hand prevented
Edith Abel in Boston Transcript.