1830.J [ 277 ] 



THE CORSICAN BANDIT. 



I HAD passed the mountain which separates the smiling valley of 

 Ornano from that of Bastilica. Throwing the bridle upon the neck of 

 my little, ugly, headstrong, fiery, Corsican nag, I trusted myself 

 entirely to him for safe conduct as we descended a rapid slope together, 

 and crossed the thickets of a forest as yet unprofaned by the woodman's 

 axe. The beauty of the sylvan scenery the balmy breeze, murmuring 

 gently, as if fearful of disturbing the serenity of nature afforded me 

 some relief from the tattle of my talkative guide, whose tongue had 

 rung a perpetual 'larum-peal since the commencement of my excursion. 

 A shapeless garment, that it would have been a misnomer to have called 

 an upper-benjamin a fusil, slung across his shoulders by a broad 

 uncouth belt and the national cap, resembling a village- steeple, com- 

 pleted the equipment of the last-mentioned personage, who ambled on 

 in front of me, occasionally slackening his pace, and enlivening me, 

 according to the laudable custom of his tribe, with interesting episodes 

 of robbery, rape, assassination, and other bagatelles. I began to feel 

 fatigued with his incessant prattle j when, on a sudden, he made a dead 

 stop, seized his long brass-mounted fusil, and alighted in a twinkling. 

 With his nose in the wind, and his sunken grey eye peering suspiciously 

 around, he examined every bush and brake with the scrutiny of one 

 accustomed to such rural adventures as for a good hour had been his 

 theme. A slight rustling was heard amongst the foliage. " By the 

 Virgin," said my guide, " that must be a robber, or a wild boar : here 

 goes ! " and his hand was already on the trigger, when a frantic laugh 

 proceeded from the midst of the thicket. " Cecca !"* cried he, " I had 

 well nigh mistaken a Christian for a wild beast ; and, by Our Lady, no 

 great mistake this time \" A glance at the object which now issued 

 from the thicket enabled me to comprehend his meaning. A female, or 

 rather a half-naked human body, darted forwards, a rude goat-skin 

 mantle scarcely sufficing for the purposes of decency, or protecting from 

 the winds of heaven a form that had once perhaps been lovely. Her tattered 

 scanty garment but ill- concealed her limbs, torn by the brambles, and 

 emaciated by suffering. Her long, black, and matted hair descending 

 to her waist, veiled a bosom that might once have glowed with feeling, 

 with pity, or with impassioned fondness ; once, perhaps, fair as Pyg- 

 malion's sculptured marble, and far less cold. The summer's parching 

 ray, the winter's blast, had wasted her bloom : the rose of health had 

 drooped with her fond hopes, and withered with her broken heart. 

 There was in her gait a step so hurried, so reckless ! a smile so joyless 

 dwelt upon her lip, as if to mock the vacant expression of her dull, fixed 

 eye ! and yet at times that dull eye beamed with a faint and feverish 

 ray of consciousness a spark of renovated mind, ' ' false as the dream of 

 the sleeper," and transient as the sick man's hectic flush ! 



The maniac approached with heedless step, and with one of those 

 hideous yells of laughter whose mockery of mirth is more saddening 

 than the wildest extravagance of sorrow. Stopping in front of us, and 

 separating her hair on each side of her forehead " Have you seen 

 Pietro ?" said she at length, gazing on me with ' 4 lack-lustre eyes," and 

 with a painful effort to draw upon her scanty stores of memory. The 



* An abbreviation of Maria-Antonia-Francesca. 



