round, exhaled foetid vapours, which, combined with the impure water the soldiers drank in their maddening drought, proved fatal to many. To these serious discomforts, was added the mortifying result of their expedition; the robbers were nowhere to be traced, and the shepherds and country people they interrogated, seemed rather anxious to delude them, than to direct them aright. Two of their men were killed, and another wounded, at the edge of the wood, without their being able to reach, or even to see, the assassins; and, after two days of extreme fatigue and vexation, Vernet was fain to withdraw his detachment to the town of Maida. In this agreeable sojourn they had but short leisure to repose, for just before their arrival, the commandant of the place had arrested an emissary of the brigands, who had visited the town to treat with a rich proprietor about the ransom of a drove of oxen, which had been carried off into the forest. This wretch, who was in fact one of Benincasa's gang, was induced by the fear of being shot, and by the promise of a considerable reward, to undertake to lead a body of soldiers to the robbers' haunt, and to surprise them in an unsuspecting and defenceless moment. Vernet was appointed to this expedition; and the following night, guided by the traitor, with his arms tied behind him, the little band left Maida for the wood. They traversed the plain, by the side of the Amato, which river they forded at a short distance from the wood. After cutting their way, with great labour, through a thick

copse, they entered the forest, favoured by a clear moonlight. They had to wade knee-deep through a pestilent marsh, at the edge of which they found their progress arrested by a wide and deep ditch; their guide, however, and two of their men, contrived to cross it. The robber now began to search in the thickets around, for some beams of wood which the brigands were accustomed to make use of as a bridge to pass the fosse; these were so well concealed, and he was so long in finding them, that when they were arranged, and the French crawled over, day began to dawn. They had not got many paces from the ditch, when the barking of a number of dogs was heard, apparently a little farther in the wood. A few minutes afterwards, the advanced guard which had gained a narrow uncovered ridge, was saluted by a sharp running fire, accompanied by horrid shrieks and yells: no time was to be lost-the whole body rushed on; and, by the first bright rays of the sun, advanced into the thickest of the forest. Their rapid pace soon brought them to a large, natural circus, surrounded by thick, matted bushes, and shaded by huge cork trees; this they understood to be the brigands' head-quarters. A large fire burned in the centre, at which were roasting the quarters of a bullock and a sheep; a number of sacks full of bread and cheese, and ham, and several skins of wine, were scattered within the circle; around which were tied to the trunks of trees, horses, asses, and mules, while the branches were decorated with the spare wardrobe of the robbers. The

goodly smell of the meats, and the tempting aspect of the wine-skins, would have brought the fatigued soldiers to an agreeable full stop, had it not been for the voice of their leader:- "Run on, my brave boys! the villains can't have had a long warning of our approach; they can't have got far yet;-let us, at least, secure a few of them; -it will give those nice joints time to roast, and we shall relish our feast the better after a bit of

fighting."

Vernet halted for a few moments, to see that no loiterers evaded his commands. As he was proceeding on his way, his eye was attracted by an old brigand, who slunk from behind a bush, and unhooked a sort of knapsack that hung to a tree. Before he could get without the circle, Vernet's shot was after him; the robber, however, apparently untouched, leaped into the thicket and escaped. The soldiers followed the traces of the brigands through the thick wood: they found here and there fragments of their clothes torn in their flight, and hats hooked off by the hanging branches; but their owners had been more fortunate; not one could be seen, and at last their traces were entirely lost in a wide marsh, through which their guide could not, or would not, conduct them. On their return towards the circus, the men were in part reconciled to the escape of the brigands, by the discovery of a number of oxen and a herd of sheep, which they drove before them as their legitimate prize. To the banquet of Benincasa, which

by this time was well cooked, they did infinite honour. Vernet and Beauchamp presided with all the joviality of adventurous soldiers; but they were obliged to interrupt the festivity (somewhat prematurely as the men thought), fearing the effects of intoxication, in case the robbers should make an attack on them during their retreat. The jolly band, however, emerged from the mysterious labyrinths of the wood in safety; and in its novel, pastoral capacity, driving its flocks and herds before it, reached Maida in the evening, covered with mud, and with the glory of having been the first to penetrate the Forest of Sant' Eufemia.

A few days after this adventure, Vernet removed from Maida to a masseria between Sant' Eufemia and Nicastro. Here he was not more than two or three miles from the cottage of Antonietta, and so warm was the interest she had excited, that he took the first opportunity of visiting it. Beauchamp, who had in vain attempted to dissuade him, determined to accompany him. On their arrival, they found Antonietta alone; she rushed forward to meet Vernet, with pleasure glowing in her eyes and on her cheek; but this immediately gave way to an expression of fear and anxiety, and the words she was about to pronounce died away on her lips.

"Well, my mysterious fair one, here we are again; we found your sweet eyes and your sweeter tattle so enticing, that we have hastened to enjoy them once more." "Oh," said Antonietta, blushing, "you are come

again because you are thirsty,—a good welcome to you, gentlemen; here is a wine-flask, and here is water-but your pardon! I must call Annarella;-she is hard by."

"Oh, no," said Vernet, holding her by the arm; there's no need of that ugly old woman. Don't frown! No offence: but we really can do without her. Come, sit down here; there's no one will harm you. I would not hurt a lock of that flowing hair, for all the riches of the two Calabrias: come,—why are you alarmed?”

"You are Frenchmen," said Antonietta confusedly. "And what then, fair Calabrian?"

"You are the enemies of my country,—the foes of my friends, and”—she hesitated, and blushed deeper than before. In a moment her eagerness to go after Annarella returned; but her search was anticipated by the old woman herself, who hobbled in, in great confusion, muttering curses on the visitors. She said something to Antonietta, in an under voice, and in so barbarous a dialect, that the young men did not understand her; but Antonietta replied aloud, "Oh, no, no! the gentlemen have only come again because they are in need of refreshment."

Annarella at length became pacified: Beauchamp occupied her attention as well as he could, to prevent her from interrupting Vernet, who had taken possession of a stool at Antonietta's feet, and had begun an affecting little dialogue, the purport of which it will scarcely be necessary to explain. Thanks to the liberality of Beau