The daily morning journal and courier., 1900-01-25
BRIGAND OF THE COLISEUM.
AN ADvENTURE BY MOONLIGHT
Gladiators Muss Have Witnessed With 1nterasf

It was in the early summer of tn
 year 1881 that the event which l an about to relate took place.
 My wife and I were in Rome, where We had been spending six-weeks' leav' of absence, which I had obtained from my duties as an Irish stipendary magis
 trate, and having now consequently
 ''done" the various churches, picture! and relics of antiquity, we were begin
 ming to thoroughly enjoy ourselves.
 A visit to the Eternal City would bt really far pleasanter if one were not SC overwhelmed with the enormous mum
 Der of things to be seen, which ont wishes to see, which one would be very sorry not to have seen, but which weary the unhappy sightseer almost to death
 especially when only short time is al his, disposal.
 We had stood awestricken under the vast dome of St. Peters, we had toile6 through miles of picture galleries ir the Vatican, and pondered over the mutability of human greatness amid the ruins of the palace of the Caesars, but the place that left far the deepest and most lasting impression on our minds was the grim and blood-stained skeleton of the greatest and meet celebrated am pithsater of the world--the Coliseum.
 We had paid 1t several visits during our sojourn, and each time had felt with increasing power the spell of its won- drous fascination.
 We had seen it in the full blaze of noon-day, we had remained there, at the imminent risk of chills, until the sun was setting in the golden west, and bathing all it's rugged walls with glory, but the time we loved best to see it was when the moon was shining down upon 1t out of the clear Italian skyfilling 1t with mystic glamor and weird sug- gestivenesS.
 Surely, if the ghosts of the foully slain revisit the scene of their earthly wrongs Rome must be thronged at every corner with them, for no city that ever existed on the face of this earth has to answer for so much blood un- righteously spilled.
 Must not the Coliseum then-this ter rible slaughter house of the city-be fairly peopled with the spirits of the dead?
 The night before our departure was still and warm and cloudless. The moon was at the full, and seemed to shine with unwonted brilliancy, making the myriad stars look pale and ineig- nif1cant by contrast.
 We had dined with an English clergy man. and his wife whose acquaintance We had made, and, after coffee had been served in the salon, my host proposed that he and I should stroll upon the xxlo 1f 11to1 ix1 op1o to lou our cigars, away from the noise and stuff1ness of the smoking room.
 It know not whether it is a sign of my evil nature, but I have always low ed darkness, rather than light The night has always possessed special charm for me which the day has not. I love to wander alone through the dark and silent streets of a great city, when all the rest of the world is asleep, or to ride at midnight along lonely country road, with no living soul within miles, or to float upon the still, black bosom of the ocean, and gaze far up into the limtless nights above.
 I confided some such feelings as these to my companion, as we paced the moonlit piazza, and found that he shar- ed my sentiments
 What night this would be for a visit to the Coliseum!' I exclaimed, 1T really must see it again by moonlight before go."
 s.Yes," acquiesced the parson some what dubiously, mo doubt it will be looking it's very grandest tonight; but think you'd much better stop quietly where you are. Don't be in such hur- ry to rush away from us. Remember we probably shan't see you again to- morrow
 "Oh, come along, too,'' I said. "We'1l leave the ladies over their coffee and chat for an hour or so, and be back again before midnight
 Thank you" said the parson rather nervously. I'm sure it would be very nice, but I think I'd rather not"
 Pooh, pooh, man! Why not?" exclaimed. Surely man whose busi- | ness is to fight devils is not afraid of ghosts?"
 No" he replied, hesitatingly, "Im not afraid of ghosts-at least'' (con- scientiously) mot much; but I confess I am afraid of brigands. Haven't you heard that a ferocious bandit has talk en to haunting the Coliseum lately, and | has robbed and illtreated numbers of people who have gone there at night? If you aske, think 1t would be night of folly to go.'
 "Why, surely" I exclaimed, laugh Ing, 1.-two stalwart ABritons ought to be B match for one wretched Italian pick pocket? Besides, you must remember that am a County Glare R. M, and have got into the habit of never going anywhere unarmed."
 So saying, I exhibited a small but re- liable revolver which I always carried, and with which I could make exceeding " accurate shooting.
 "Well,'' said my friend, still unper- suaded, T think, If you will excuse me, should prefer not to go, and I should strongly advise you to follow my exam ole.''
 "Oh, do as you please, of course" I ,aid testify, I'm not afraid of all the ,rigande in Italy, and shall certainly 70. Perhaps you will be kind enough to ell the ladies where I am, and that I guarantee to be back, unrobbed, before 2 o'clock tonight"
 So saying, I turned on my heel, and walked rapidly in the direction of the Coliseum. The sight that had come in search