"Six." 66 Well, who was the last ?" "Gianni." "Gianni !" exclaimed I; "do you mean the man who was just now taken hence?" "The same, I believe." "What is his sentence ?" "I believe he is to be. . . . I've forgotten what. You can look at the book. Don't let us have any unnecessary delay. and make haste, sir.” Call the next I looked at the list; my eye ran down to the bottom, and I there read the fatal words, "Gianni fucilato,' (shot.) The secretary was writing out the words on a slip of paper, which a soldier was waiting to receive. I turned to the judge. Here's a dreadful error, my dear friend!" cried I: "this man came with me from Nocera. I wanted a driver, and he was sent by the police against his own inclinations. Upon the honour of a gentleman," added I, seeing he listened incredulously, "upon the faith of a man and a Christian, he is as innocent as I am. For Heaven's sake, consider this! You are committing a murder!" My friend looked at me earnestly for a mo. ment, and then slowly shaking his head, said, "I am sorry you think so. The man has been identified by Giambattista, who saw him conversing with others near him. My orders are quite possi. tive." "I tell you he was bound to a tree near me.” "A strange illusion! He was taken hard by, endeavouring to make good his escape." "This is horrible! You will not risk committing a crime I trust. Wait at least for evidence; there can be no harm in that.” "No harm!-you are not aware that an extensive conspiracy has been discovered at Salerno, and that we are perhaps on the eve of another revolution." "However that may be, it does not affect the question of this man's guilt or innocence. Spare his life till to-morrow. Before all things, it is our duty to be just, Chiarina, my dear sister, speak to Saverio. You can bear witness, too, that Gianni was with us a prisoner. He intended to save our lives-let us save his." 66 My sister came forward; she was pale and cold. In spite of all we could do to prevent her, she insisted upon sinking on her knees before her lover and judge. This is not a time for pride," said the poor girl; "I think and hope I am dying, and by my trust in a better life than this, I believe Gianni is innocent. Pardon him before I die, my-my-dear-Saverio." She was silent, and her head fell on her breast. The judge yielded. "Secretary," cried he, "in the case of Gianni, write detenuto for fucilato, and give the corresponding or. der. The scribe prepared to obey. I seated my sister on a heap of straw, and gave her some water. She recovered a little, and I told her Gi. anni was saved. I then made my way through a throng of soldiers and prisoners, and approaching the secretary, I asked if the order had been sent. "There it is," said he, "but there is nobody to take it yet." "Give it me," said I, and receiving it from his hands, I rushed from the shed, and directed my steps to a spot where a few lighted pine branches marked the place of death. Gianni was standing near about a dozen bodies, probably those that had been recently executed. In front of him, at about twelve paces distant, were some riflemen with shouldered firelocks, ranged in line. Hurrying towards them, I stumbled over a corpse and fell. As I was endeavouring to rise, a cold clammy hand laid hold of mine. I looked up; it was my sister. She had crawled out of the hut, and revived a little by the fresh air, or stimulated by intense anxiety, had mustered strength enough to follow me. We turned to look at the body over which I had fallen: it was that of the tall stern man that had made us prisoners, and had condemned Giambattista. He was lying on his back near the still glowing embers of the wood-stack, from which a red and fiery light was thrown upon his face. A streak of blood, beginning in the middle of the forehead, descended on one side, and-or the fitful light deceived me-the sanguine tide still welled slowly from his wound. I dragged my sister away, for she was hanging over him in stupi fied amaze, and we reached the soldiers. Here lowered bayonets forbade, any further advance. I demanded to speak with the officer; he came to me, and took the order I brought, and withdrew. I then turned to Chiarina, and, taking her in my arms, I pressed a kiss on her cold cheek and spoke cheerfully to her. A rattle of musket-shot at that moment shook the air; my sister fell from my arms. I turned round with a start-Gianni lay dead on the ground, and the soldiers were reload. ing their muskets. I was speechless with astonishment. At the very moment a sergeant arrived, and delivered a paper to the officer. "The man has just been shot," said he on hearing it; "how's this, sergeant?" "The order for his execution," answered the soldier, "was changed to one for imprisonment. I put it into my pocket as soon as it was written, and for fear of accidents, I brought it myself. I have not been five minutes coming." "There has been some mistake, then," resumed the officer; "but tis no great matter. Somebody has made more haste than you, and has brought me the wrong paper. That's all!" TO A COUGH. ON BEING ORDERED BY A PHYSICIAN TO PASS THE ENSUING WINTER AT BORDEAUX OR MADEIRA, IN CONSEQUENCE OF A SEVERE COUGH. BY MISS LOUISA H. SHERIDAN. "Ma'am, that is a very bad cough of yours. Do cease, hollow sound! you alarm e'en the merry, THE GHOST-RIDERS. A LEGEND OF THE GREAT AMERICAN DESERT. Away! away! My breath was gone, Mazeppa. THE hunters of the far West who trap for beaver among the defiles of the Oregon Mountains, regard no part of their long journey, from the borders to their savage hunting grounds, where the fur-bearing animals are still found in the greatest profusion, with more aversion than that which leads over the great desert where the tributaries of the Padouca, the Konzas, and the Arkansaw rivers, are half absorbed by the arid sand. Lewis and Clarke, Major Long, and other scientific explorers of this desolate region, suffered much from the want of water, while passing through it on their way to the Rocky Mountains; and then they often mention the disheartening effect it had upon their followers, when, after traversing the scorching plain for weeks, it still lay stretched in unbroken and monotonous vastness before them. This portion of country, which extends along the base of the Rocky Mountains, as far as we have any acquaintance with their range, is said to have an average width of six hundred miles. In the north the surface is occasionally characterized by water-worn pebbles and hard gravel, but the predominant characteristic is sand, which, in many instances, prevails to the entire exclusion of vegetable mould. At the south the arid plains are profusely covered with loose fragments of volcanic rocks, amid whose barren bosom no genial plant has birth and, indeed, throughout the whole region, large tracts are often to be met with, which exhibit scarcely a trace of vegetation. In some few instances sandy hillocks and ridges make their appearance thickly covered with red cedar of a dwarfish growth; but, in general, nothing of vegetation appears upon the uplands, but rigid grass of spare and stunted growth, prickly pears profusely covering extensive tracts, and weeds of a few varieties, which, like the prickly pears, seem to thrive the best in the most arid and sterile soils. The Indians, who inhabit this extensive region, are composed of several roving tribes, who, unlike the nations of the east and west, have no permanent vilages, nor hunting grounds, which they claim as peculiarly their own. They hunt the buffalo and antelope, and dwelling only in tents of leather, migrate from place to place in pursuit of the herds of those animals; and so extensive is their range, that while they exchange their skins for blankets and strouding with the British traders on the Cheyenne river at the north, they also trade their mules and horses for vermilion and silver ornaments, with the Spaniards of Mexico, on the Colorado of the south. The Ara pahoes, Kaskaias, Kiaways, and Tetans, which are the chief of the desert hordes, are ferocious and predatory in their habits, and are con tinually at war with various tribes of the Missouri Indians, who inhabit the fertile countries which lie between them and our western frontier. The grizzly bear, the king of the American wilds, shares these dreary domains with savages hardly less ferocious than himself, and roams the west in quest of living prey. Here, too, the illusive mirage of the desert cheats the parched traveller with its refreshing promise, and the wanderers in these solitudes often tell of those monstrous shapes and unnatural forms, which, like the spectre of the Brocken, reflected on the heated and tremulous vapour, are magnified and distorted to the eye of the appalled and awe-stricken traveller.* Strange fires, too, are said to shoot along the baked and cracking earth, and the herds of wild horses that can be seen trooping along the horizon, seem at times to be goaded on by gigantic and unearthly riders, whose paths are enveloped in wreaths of flame.t The scientific explorer readily calls philosophy to his aid in examining these strange appearances: while learning explains the phenomena, of which he is himself a witness, and reason rejects the preternatural images, which he only knows from the representations of others. But the nomadic tribes, who make their dwelling upon the desert, or the uneducated adventurer, who wanders thither from some more smiling region, are differently affected. The monstrous shapes and unearthly appearances that present themselves to his excited vision, are regarded through the medium of superstitious awe. wild imagination of the Indian, and the credulous fancy of the Creole and Canadian hunter, people these mysterious solitudes with actual beings; while the grotesque figures drawn upon the mocking mirage, after presenting themselves frequently to the eye, assume at length an individuality and a name; and it is said that the Indian and Canadian wanderers become at last so familiar with the images represented, as even to pretend to recognise the features, and swear to the identity of shapes which are continually changing, and which probably never present themselves more than once to the same person. Among those most often mentioned, there are none whose identity has been more "As the day advanced, and the heat of the sun began to be felt, such quantities of vapour were seen to ascend from every part of the plain, that all objects, at a little distance, appeared magnified and variously distorted. Three elks, which were the first that we had seen, crossed our path at some distance before us. The effect of the mirage, with our indefinite idea of the distance, magnified those animals to the most prodigious size. For a moment we thought we saw the mastadon of America moving in those vast plains which seem to have been created for his dwelling-place.”—Major Long's Expedition to the Rocky Mountains. + Luminous appearances, like those mentioned in the text, are also said to be common in some of the mining districts west of the Mississippi. Dr. Edwin James of the army, the accomplished naturalist and traveller, received several accounts of them from the residents in that region, though neither he nor any of his party witnessed any such phenomena. A settler told them "of two itinerant preachers who had encountered an indescribable phenomenon, at a place about nine miles east of Loutre Lick. As they were riding side by side at a late hour in the evening, one of them requested the other to observe a ball of fire attached to the end of his whip. No sooner was his attention directed to this object, than a similar one began to appear on the other end of the whip; in a moment afterwards, their horses and all objects near them were enveloped in a wreath of flame. By this time the minds of the itinerant preachers were so much confounded, that they were no longer capable of observation, and could therefore give no further account of what happened. He also stated a fact, authenticated by the most credable witnesses, that a very considerable tract of land near by had been seen to send up vast columns of smoke, which rose through the light and porous soil like the covering of a coal-pit." completely established, and whose names are whispered with deeper awe, than those of the GHOST-RIDERS. The Canadian Engagé always crosses himself when he utters the name, and the Otto, or Omaw-whaw warrior, who may have skirted the desert in a war party against the Cheyennes, or the Pawnee-Loup who has crossed it in his battles with the Crow and Kiawa Indians, invariably places his hand upon his Metawaüann, or repository of his personal manitto, when he speaks of these fearful apparitions. Those who affect to have seen these strange dwellers of the desert, describe them as two gigantic figures, representing a man and woman locked in each other's arms, and both mounted on one horse, which is of the same unearthly make as themselves. Some pretend to have been near enough to discover their features, and these assert that the countenance of the man, though emaciated and ghastly, and writhed with the most fearful contortions by an expression of shrinking horror, can plainly be identified as the face of a white man ; while the features of the woman, though collapsed and corpse-like, are evidently those of an Indian female. Others insist that no one can ever have been near enough to the phantoms to remark these peculiarities; for the GhostRiders, say they, are for ever in motion, and they scour the desert with such preternatural impetuosity, as to mock the scrutiny of human eyes. They appear to be goaded on for ever by some invisible hand, while the phantom charger that bears them, overleaps every obstacle, as he flies on his mysterious and apparently aimless career. There is a tradition among the Indians, accounting for the origin of these fearful apparitions, to which universal credence is given. It is a story of love and vengeance-of gentle affections won by gallant deeds, and Eden-like happiness blasted by unholy passion-of blackhearted treachery and ruthless violence, that met with a punishment more horrible even than itself. And thus the story runs. Upon the western borders of the Great Desert already described, and somewhere about the head-waters of the Padouca and Arkansaw rivers, where they approach each other among those broken sand-stone ledges, which lift their gray parapets, and isolated columnar rocks of snowy whiteness, from copses of hazle and shrubby oaks,—there stood, many years since, the lodge of Ta-in-ga-ro; ("The-first-thunder-thatfalls.") The hunter, though no one knew whence he came, appeared to be upon friendly terms with all the allied tribes of the Desert, and he was said to have recommended himself to them on his appearance in those wilds, by bringing a dozen scalps of different tribes of the Missouri Indians at the saddle-bow, when he first presented himself in the skin-tents of the roving Kaskaias. So rich an offering would have placed the chief at the head of an independent band of his own, had he wished to become a "partisan" or leader of warriors; but the habits of Ta-in-ga-ro were unsocial and secluded, and the only object that claimed the solitude, or shared the sympathies of the bold stranger, was a beautiful female-the sole companion of his exile. The name of the hunter was evidently of Omaw.whaw origin, but there was nothing about his person to mark him as belonging to that distant nation, and it was equally difficult to identify the partner of his wandering with any neighbouring tribe. Some, from the fairness of her complexion, insisted that she must belong to the Rice-eaters, (Me |