Year: 1860

The Corsican's Revenge.


ado you see, sir, that broken mast ant
that blackened fragment of the hulk of Z
vessel lying there among the rocksY'


nodded in the affirmative, and he con
tinued


"They remind us here of a dreadful
event which happened few weeks ago
That ship La Belle Epoase, of Marseillcs
that was anchored in the very spot where
we are now, yes, precisely where the brig
is--her chain cable taut to that pillar on
shore, her hawsers cast off here, just as
we are moored, was blown into the air one
fine morning"


"By what recidcnt," inquired


fOh, by no accident" said my inter
locutor; ''it was coolly done by Corsican.
You know how revengeful Italians and
Corsicans are" and he told with much
emphasis, and laudable proportion Of
repetition and rigamarole, the following
dreadful anecdote, which was afterwards
confirmed to me by many persons:


The master of the Belle Epeuse was the
son of respectable merchant of Marseilles,
and handsome, well-informed young
tudNS ldl cupCIlOI W tuG run VI
ers of trading vessels in the Mediterranean
During two or three voyages to the Levant,
he had with him, as mate, Corsican of
about his own age, to whom he was much
attached. A handsome youth, and of
superior manners like himself the mate
was treated at all times with respect, and
in the captains cabin the distinctions of
condition disappeared and the Marseilles
and the Corsiean lived like friends.


In their familiar intercourse, these two
young men were accustomed to pass jokes
on each other; at times to proceed to
practical wit, excusable perhaps to ex-
ubcrantly spirited youth, but which is al
ways so dangerous where the blood is
warm On the last voyage, as they were
returning from Alexandria, and gay and
friendly as ever, the Corsican received a
blow--a slap on the cheek--it was given
in play by the captain, but converted into
deadly injury and insupportable insult by
the mate.


From that moment the too susceptible
islander never spoke to this captain save
on duty he brooded necessarily over the
blow, and when they had come to anchor
in the Quarantine. ground of Marseilles,
his feelings, whatever they were, resolved
themselves into most fearful deed, One
morning, as the captain was lying leading
on coop on the quarter deck, and
two guardsmen were quietly smoking their
short clay pipes on the poop of the vessel
he went down to the cabin in which he
had speut so many hay py hours with his
friend rather than master, and opening
the sainte- burbe, or powder magazine, sat
fire to its contents.


The magazine was well furnished, and
the explosion, in consequence, terrible
To the distances from each other in a
Quarantine ground white smoke, a
whittier blaze burst from her, and in the
next instant La Belle Epouse few high
into the atmosphere with an astonishing
roar, dreadful as what accompanies the
election of some huge mass from volcano
When the disjointed members of the brig
returned to their own element, and per-
sons could approach, they found the dead
bodies of the Corsiean, the captain, the
two guards, and the cabin boy, who was
below at the time of the deliberate incendi-
airy opened the powder magazine. The
sal ors, to the number of seven or eight,
who were forward at the moment of the
explosion, were picked up alive, but all
more or less wounded and bruised. The
dead were gathered together on rock /;
they presented horrid spectacle but it
was said by those that saw that whilst
faces of the murdered appeared calm or
languid, as those struck by lighting, the
face Of the murderer, though black as a
coal from its close contact with the powder,
wore an expression of triumph, mixed with
hot-human hate and revenge.