Year: 1863

Of the Lambertini family, called Madonna Lu-


crezia, who in a revolution Of the State, had


known the bitterness of poverty, and had even


begged her bread; kneeling day after day,


like statue, at the gate Of the cathedral, her


rosary in her left hand, and her right held out


for charity, her long black veil concealing a


face that had once adorned court and had


received the homage of as many sonnets as


Petrarch has written on Laura.


/ But fortune had at length relented; a leg


acy from distant relation had come to her


relief and she was now the mistress Of small


inn at the foot of the Appenines where she


entertained as weH as she could, and where


those only stepped who were coutented with


a little. The house was still standing when


in my youth passed that way, though the


sign Of the White Cross-the Cross of the


Hospitallers-was no longer to be seen over
the door, sign which she had taken, if we


may believe the tradition there, in honor ofa
maternal uncle, grand master of that order,
whose achievements in Palestine she would
sometime relate. A mountain stream ran
through the garden; and at no great distance,


where the road turned on its way to Bologna,
stood little chapel, in which lamp was al


ways burning before picture Of the Virgin
"a picture OF great antiquity, the work Of
some Greek artist. o


Here she was dwelling, respected by all
who knew her, when an event took place
which threw her into the deepest afaiction.
1t was at MONDAY, in. September, that three
loot travellers arrived, and seating themselves
on bench under her vine. trelis, were sup
piled with Aagon of Aleatioo u a lovely
girl, her only child, the image Of her former
self The eldest spoke like a Venetian, and
his beard was short and pointed after the fash
ion of Venice In his de1neanor he affected
great courtesy, but his look inspired little con


fdence; for when he smiled, which he did
continually, it was with his lips only, not with
his eyes, and they were always turned from
yours. His companions were bluff and frank
in their manner, and on their tongues were
many soldiers oath. In their hats they
wore medal, such as in that age was often
distributed in war and they were evidently
.subalterns in one Of those free bands which
were always ready to serve in any quarrel, if
a service it could be called, where battle
was little more than a mockery; and the slain,
as on an opera stage, were up and fighting to-
morrow. Overcome with the heat they threw
aside their cloalSs. and with their gloves tuck
ed under their belts, continued for some time
in earnest conversation.


At length they rose to go, and the Venetian
thus addressed their hostess:


Excellent lady, may we leave under your
roof for a day or two, this bag Of gold ?"


"You may" she replied, gayly. But re-
member we fasten only with a latch. Bars
and bolts we have none in our village; and if
we had, where would be your security


In your word, lady"


And what il died tonight, where would
it be then?" said she laughingly. The
money would go to the Church, for none
could claim it


Perhaps you will favor US with an ac-
acknowledgement"


"If you will write it.


An acknowledgment was written accord
ingly, and she signed it before Master Bartolo,
the village physician, who bad just called by
chance to learn the news of the day; the gold
to be delivered when applied for but to be
were the words-not to one,
nor to two, but to the three-words wisely
by those to whom it belonged
knowing what they knew Of each other. The
gold they had just released from miser's
chest in Perugia and they were on a scent
that promised more.


They and their shadows were no sooner de-
parted, than the Venetian returned, saying
'' Give me leave to set my seal on the bag, as
the others have done;7 and she placed it on
a table before him But in that moment she
was called away to receive a cavalier who had
lust dismounted from his horse; and when
she came back it was gone. The temptation
had proved irresistible, and the man and the
money had vanished together.


" Wretched woman that I ami" she cried,
Is in an agony of grief she fell on her daugh-
.er's neck; "what win become of us2 Are
we again to be cast out into the wide world
Unhappy child, would that thou hadst never
'een born |" And all day long she lamented;
1ut her tears availed her little. The others
we're not slow in returning to claim their due;
md there were no tidings of the thief; he
lad fed far away with his plunder A pro-
,ess against her was instantly begun in Bo-
ogna; and what defense could she make
low release herself from the obligation of the
,ond? WilfulIy, Or in negligence, she had
,arted with it to one, when she should have
;ept it for all ; and inevitable ruin awaited
leEl


Go, Gianetta," said she to her daughter,
take this vail which your mother has worn
nd wept under so often, and implore the
ouncelor Calderino to plead for US on the day
+ trial. He is generous, and win listen to
he unfortunate. But ifhe will not, go from
oor to door; Monaldi cannot refuse us. Make
aste, my child, but remember the chapel as /
ou pass by it. Nothing prospers without a
rayer.


AlasI she went, but in vain. These were
etained against them those demanded more
nan they had to give; and all bade them des-
air. What was to be done2 No advocate, s