rank of captain; the other remained a private grenadier. The two brothers met at Marengo. When the action was over, the captain obtained permission to pay a visit to his brother, whose regiment was at a short distance. Hardly were they in each others’ arms, before they both fell mortally wounded by a cannon-ball. Alas! how inexplicable are the cruel sports of fortune!
At the distance of half a league from Tortona, we arrived at a beautiful bridge, about a quarter of a mile in length, constructed a few years before by some French engineers, across a torrent very remarkable for the variations to which it is subject. Sometimes when reduced to a mere rivulet it receives so sudden an accession of water, as to be swelled in a moment to the full width of the bridge, and even to overflow its banks. Travellers crossing its bed in the reliance that the waters could not descend from the neighbouring mountains with sufficient rapidity to reach them during their passage, have often been known to be carried away in the current, and the bridge itself would have been destroyed, had not precautions been taken to prevent the effects of the most violent shocks.
It was Sunday, and the road was crowded with the citizens and labourers of Tortona strolling towards the bridge, which seemed to be as well to them as to ourselves, an object of scrutiny and curiosity. At three o’clock in the afternoon, we entered an inn, whose ruinous and shabby appearance denoted it to belong to one of the small rude towns of the Appenines. We here took leave of our conductor, who left us to continue his journey towards Voghera, while we, according to our new arrangement, took the road towards the mountains on the left, in order to direct our course towards Bobbio, by the way of Godiasco and Varzi, situated on the torrent Stafora.
We hired two mules and a guide; the paths across the mountains not being sufficiently wide to admit even two wheeled carriages. As we were inquiring for a man who had horses to let, recommended to us by our host, we entered a sort of coffee-house, where, in two small nearly unfurnished rooms, contiguous to each other, were placed five or six stools by the side of some small wooden tables, for the accommodation of those who wished to be regaled with weak coffee, that had been kept at the same degree of warmth for the last three or four days.
Liverpool. A. W.
THE GARRET-WINDOW.
[ORIGINAL TRANSLATION, BY SPERANS, FROM THE GERMAN OF FREDERIC LAUN.]
(Continued from our last.)
Chapter 8th. The Prisoner.—On my arrival at the Golden Fox, I found that my friend had been perfectly correct in his apprehensions for our places. The door of the bespoken room was locked; and, upon repeatedly knocking and shaking at it, I was at last answered by a request not to be so rude. I replied, that the rudeness was not on my side; and that I thought it very singular to be kept out of a room for which I paid so dearly.—During this explanation an elderly female came up stairs, knocked at the door, and said, “It is I, my dear, pray open.” Immediately the door opened, and a voice, which appeared twice as sweet as it had sounded the first time, said, “Come in, dear aunt.” I offered to follow, but was not quick enough; and only the flap of my coat was caught by the door as it was suddenly shut in my face. Under any other circumstances I should have laughed at the accident; but I found it impossible to do so at that moment. Unwilling, however, to betray the awkwardness of my situation, I merely continued to insist on gaining admittance; though the recollection of the sweet voice prevented me from urging my claims quite so imperatively as I otherwise should have done. I thanked God on hearing fresh steps on the staircase. Two gentlemen were seeking for windows, and asked me whether the garret would answer? I replied in the affirmative; and added, that some obstinate people in the inside wanted to keep it to themselves. Upon this, they ran down again to summon the landlord to the spot; but I heard no more of them, and they had, probably, met with other accommodations. At last, the fat host made his appearance, and asked whether I wished to have the breakfast brought up? I answered, angrily, that he must first keep his contract, and clear the room. “So, so,” he said, “then the little vixen persists in her obstinacy. Pray Miss open the door, or I’ll fetch the master-key.” “Do if you dare,” was the reply, “I shall have you before the magistrate for letting my room, whilst I pay my rent honestly and regularly.” “How is this?” inquired I with astonishment. “Well,” said mine host, “she has certainly taken the room some time ago; but it was for the year, and not for such extraordinary occasions. You offered me two Louis d’or; and I thought surely that a little milliner would be thankful to get a dollar or two out of the money, merely for giving up the room during one day, or rather during a couple of hours. I have even offered her as much as three dollars, but she would not consent to give it up; and I then thought that your own presence would produce more effect.” “You are a base man,” I ejaculated. “I beg you will not mention any such thing,” retorted mine host; “you gentlemen with fixed salaries have fine talking; but place yourself in my situation, with rent and taxes to pay in times like the present; two Louisd’or are not to be sneezed at; nor should a little milliner have refused three dollars. The people who take boxes at the theatre, do also take them for the whole year; but as often as new pieces or fresh performers make their appearance, a bonnement suspendu is put upon the play-bill. To day we have both a new piece and a grand performer; therefore I say a bonnement généralement suspendu.” “You are a vulgar good-for-nothing man,” I exclaimed. “I am your most obedient humble servant,” replied the host again, “but my banker will tell you a different story, and as long as my character stands well with him, I never mind what others think or say about it.” At that moment the collector came with his daughter, and said that it was high time, since the out-riders were already in sight. I stated my case, and Miss Ida called it a pretty story, betraying at the same time every mark of vexation. She resolved to stand in the street, rather than be disappointed altogether; and she was actually walking down again when I asked for a pair of scissors, with a fury which made her father turn round and discover my embarrassing predicament. “What! are you a captive?” he cried; but at that very moment the door opened, and the fair occupant said, with an elegant courtesy, “I beg your pardon; I was not prepared for this, but you will admit that the insulting offer of the landlord could not but be disagreeable. Moreover, I had offered the window to my aunt, and could not dispose of it without her consent: yet now, when she is herself willing to retire”—“Impossible!” I interrupted her, “the more I esteem your politeness, the less I ought to abuse it.” The collector and his daughter stared at me, and the latter said, in a whisper, that I observed rather too much ceremony with such people. In the mean time the two females had passed us, and the elder one assured us that they should see the procession in her own house, and that the reception itself must be more interesting to Miss Ida, than to her, who had seen such things before. I recollected the countenance and figure of the niece as having struck me very often; and I was glad to know where she lived, although the circumstance of her being called a little milliner, acted rather as a drawback on my pleasure. I looked after her whilst she was crossing the street; and, tracing her among the crowd, I leaned so far out of the window, that my companions were pleased to express an apprehension lest I should fall out altogether. This observation made me also remark, that the collector had been all the while walking up and down in the little room. I felt ashamed of my rudeness, and ran out to look after the ordered breakfast, although my guests assured me that there was no need to do so.
Chapter 9th. Foolish Whims.—“My dear host,” I said, as soon as I had got a fair hold of the good man’s greasy coat, “Pray tell me whatever you know of the girl in the little room.” “Oh, oh!” he replied, “then she has charmed you, as well as some of my other guests; but it is all of no use, there is nothing to be done with her. I have been often commissioned to make the most brilliant offers to her, and from very nice gentlemen too; but the foolish thing has no idea of management. Virtue is fine enough, when you have wherewithal to support it; but what is the use of it without money? and of that she has a plentiful lack: not for want of means to get it, even in her business; because she is very clever, and earns a good deal: but what do you think she does with it? I am sure you could never guess. She pays all away to a set of ragged people, who have come to loss by her late father; because she cannot bear the idea of their curses following the dead man to his grave. Did you ever hear of such foolish imaginations? when people have once departed this life, it matters not what their old neighbours think of them. Pray who was her father? Oh! he was great enough in his time; but none of the best house-keepers, I suppose. The girl’s mother brought him a very handsome fortune; but it all went away as well as his own. Lo! behold the young person coming back again; what the deuce can she want in such a hurry?” I stood behind the door, and looked through the crevice at the milliner, who approached in great agitation, and told the landlord that she was in great distress on account of her aunt, who had been overpowered by the pressure of the crowd, and lay ill in the next street. Some time ago the same accident had happened to her in the garret, and a bottle of something which the host had given to her, had procured immediate relief: she now came to request the loan of the same. “My dear Miss,” said the man, “this day’s confusion has even deprived me of my little bottle: a careless waiter wanted to remove it from a window-corner, and dropped it on the ground; the whole chamber smells yet of eau de Cologne.
Chapter 10th. Haste.—“Is it eau de Cologne you want?” said I, forgetting my incognito: “you shall have some immediately. I ran up stairs like lightning; because I recollected that Miss Ida had some. In my hurry I knocked down a man on the dark landing, and begged ten thousand pardons, without stopping for an explanation. I made my request, by stating that somebody had suddenly been taken ill; and the young lady thought it was a gentleman belonging to the deputation, who looked remarkably pale. I did not attempt to contradict her; for I wanted to be off again; and as soon as I had got hold of the specific, I returned quite as quickly as I had come.
Chapter 11th. The Cure.—“You have put your guest into a fine plight!” said the host, when I came back. I heard the words, without caring for their meaning, and handed the flacon to the fair petitioner. “I am infinitely obliged to you,” she said, and offered to go: but there was no getting through the crowd; and she looked round with anxiety. She appeared hardly able to support herself; and I could not do less than offer my arm. I had great difficulty in keeping off the crowd with my left elbow, but we did at length get to the other side of the street; where I might have been dismissed. But I pretended to think that I had but half fulfilled my duty, in as much as the remedy might not prove efficacious, and it would then be necessary to procure a physician. We arrived at the house where the aunt was, who had not yet recovered, and was, in some measure, alone; because the woman who had been left with her, finding it impossible to resist the attractions in the street, was looking out of the window. I tried myself to administer the restoring drops, and the success answered our expectations. The most grateful looks from both the ladies rewarded me beyond my merit; and the young one began to make me some excuses about the disagreeable scene at her chamber door.
