CORSICAN VENDETTA.

l; ByC. A. XWNTEB,

Ba_.cce.-ful American Playwright,

SYNOPSIS OF CHAPTER I.

(piing chapter of this story, which was 4l]_Bt-iWsStar, introduces us to Mr MdftfMfrf.'rk, a wealthy young gentle- Ujolft. crack shot of tho New York Rifle ilf)i»i~ to Count Musso Danella, fa he-___■ -'B-rt In Paris, and who had In to! Barnes to his Corsican estates to shoot mm," tfefk-g his stay, Barnes had Mji-tldd-C-d by the Count to his ml, the daughter of Pasqualo Paoli, an tw.Coi.ican patriot and liberator, a taBMyoU-gladyfresh from boarding-school, fara impetuous temperament, with whom Ip-idtoi. evidently very deeply in love ■rßiraeaisvery much interested in the ciis isl-tMca/and the young lady explains to Vtbe true meaning of a vendetta, which kAterVig;'Consists in tho sacred duty im jffid upon every Corsican to avenge one <W family who falls by another's hand lifWcan who failed in this duty, she ob >Mi#i]d be desmserl. At the time of mi visit Marina Paoli was expecting tho ftrauf her only brother, for whom she has a jwnate affection. He is a lieutenant in the adiiavy. On the day following his visit to jWmnsion, Barnes sets out tor Aiaccio, _§, m Corsica being now at an end. He »4»!Kl by Marina -witb v. message to her Pa* if he should happen 'o meet him. paging about the club in the Corsican WJwnes became a witness of a quarrel K»eei.t«o British naval officers and a French **.oyer a cartoon in " Punch." The quarrel Hwin the French officer calling one of *ajißhmen a liar, and tho latter at once Wuerreiichman down. A challenge to r'Wßie result, and it was arraneed that F'WWi.ouldtake place near an old inn on awe; After the officers had let the ?™Wdiscovered the enrd of the French KwWitrie table, and, to his horror, he 2WM on it the name of Paoli. the young Jwpioae sister was expectantly waiting S?™- He instantly resolved to do his 2™ «> prevent the duel, and with this JJMjnorfindhim at tho innnear the place If. takes up tho narrative.

CHAPTER 11. J .COMING. jfaais divides his time on the little 7*J "f the inn where we first meet him gazing impatiently up road for the dust of moving at his watch and looking at jq?Wj gunboat, in hopes she will sail 5 J* IjPfi industriously smoking cigar rj.fljis Interrupted while rolling the jjPPMf little soothers of human ff%th. return of Mateo, the inn- T'Wthhi. breakfast. .£ oa tat table there." yJifPris the'shady sido of the "Rut ■«?s[ft * innkeeper. CL v* has * he view - Thafc ' B those fellows can't come l2s__f ofc^er ' by any chance, kS? getting my eye on them. i |ffi«MW» than I thought you CH***" Sa y in ff 'Bis. Mr %ffiA s ; tomake his breakfast with waifcs near him, and at : yon tbink these fc»P ■*?» k "l each other will como jit,* ; >t:what does that matter to wanfc some breakfast also. X* WBeB-ngfy before they kiU eac]l Ke!^*| at interests you," laughs hitow- * 0u °nly look at the duello K.Sf n omical: and business stand ;^ D . e verseen one?" Il%'» J U ' in Cor sica, but nob in you enjoyed a duel be lw li eniar^B Mateo, removing |^iS O Shells from before his l&Jfeg *c fruit. Is%<_ti: et, !f eeil cowboys in Texas. ■_■*• M oth?r in ten seconds. It V%» . ■ very we ii never to view _$&?* to »aye seen it; it IV rand! " mumbies the ° id iii^iS^ of the most terrible I^M.^ 68 *** B ames anxious KjW. l ,sT do ' He rises, say ■fc-^JUilfL'- 18 " tn at beggar would ■SKa. ltwould perhaps save I ™W Of myself." Then rolling

a cigarette, he turns, and, looking inland up the Bastia road, continues: *' No sign of Marina yet. I sent the courier for hor at ten o'clock last night. If Corsican horse flesh can do it, -lie should be hero in time. But Corsican horseflesh is at best only polopony horseflesh ; the roads are slow, and (looking at his watch) it is seven o'clock now. If I can't stop these fellows making fools of themselves, and anything happens, Heaven pity her ! it's a hard world. He again looks up the road coming from the interior ; not even a dust cloud —not a sign of her. " If Marina comes, her brother can't fight if he has any feeling for her. I couldn't, with such a sister as that. I'd take no chances of leaving her alone in the world," he half mutters.

Rolling another cigarette, ho is about to sit down again, when, as he turns toward the water, he sees a boat rowed by a couple of stout native fishermen rapidly round one of the points of rocks that outline the little bay. A moment after her bow, driven by a vigorous stroke or two, is well up on the shelving beach. In her btern sits the English.officer of the night before, accom panied by another, who is doubtless his second.

"Tho begears are ahead of her," Mr Barnes mutters. " I'll have to do what I can myself. Anyhow it's best to sco the Englishman first."

As the two officers land, and look along the beach, and then up at the inn, appar ently expecting to see their antagonist, a, wild thought flashes through Barnes's brain ; Marina's brother is not yet here : why riot, present, himself as the brother a representative, offer an apology from him to the Englishman, and send him back to his ship, which has already hoisted in his boats, and is evidently about to leave the harbour. A grim smile passes across his face at this novel idea,; but, even as he glances about to see that the Corsican is not yet near enough to prevent his plan succeeding, he rejects it as a trick unworthy of him, feel ing certain that if Marina ever discovered he had juggled with what she would con sider her brother's honour, she would doubt less hate him for such impertinent inter ference.

The next instant he has taken his lino, and, impatiently tossing away his half smoked cigarette, he calls out: "I say, you chaps down there ! Come up here and have some breakfast with mc ! I haven't seen an English face for a month ! I'm Barnes, of New York ?" The two British officers start in astonish ment at the familiarity of his address, and one of them, the principal of the affair, after a short pause, says, taking off his cap, and bowing in almost mock polite ness : "Much obliged for your kind in vitation, but we are not hungry, and are here on an affair of business, Ntster Barnes, of New York !" The other, a more morose creature, mutters to himself: "Curse the infernal impudence of Barnes, of New York, d unng this taking out of the boat a couple of ominous-looking packages. They think I'm a fool cogitates Barnes, of New York, and that's half tho negotia tion. An acknowledged idiot can generally drive abetter bargain than a wise man; people are not on their guard against his wisdom. That makes a great deal of what s commonly called " Fool's luck. Mr Barnes, of New York, has the peculiar faculty of always leaving as a first impres sion the fact that he is an utter imbecile though on further acquaintance most people think they have made a mistake. A moment after he shouts m reply : "That's the business I want to see you about. Come up and have a glass 01 wine with me in the shade. Thaftlbe better Sian mygoingdownwithyou. Theshingle bdow now the sun is on it. would roast a officers hold an undertone con sultation, and then ascend the half-decayed little wooden stairway that leads from the shoo to the inn. They are both young men One, the principal ot the affair, is Sablv about thirty years of age and Ws the full dress uniform of a lieutenant Si Majesty's navy; the other, who is brittle over twenty,, that of a midship man in the same service They are both derail V very much the same sort ot Slows Jho fought under Nelson, and are de cdbed by Captain Marryat, with thead dition of a century's advance hi refinement. The ° man of tho night before is fair reason ably tell, and apparently amiable ; the other darker, shorter, and more inclined to It punotilliously bloodthirsty as seconds m affairs of honour generally are. We has rather a bull-dog countenance, and with

the recklessness of youth, is apparently de termined his principal shall smell powder. Arrived on the little balcony, tho latter advance* with quarter-dock docision to wards- Mr Barnes, who has taken another fruitloss glance up tho Basia road, and speaks to the point. " You say you want to see us on this affair—what affair?" " His affair of honor—he's come hero to fight? Hasn't he?" replies the American, indicating the principal by ins glance. "With whom?" inquires tho second, diplomatically. " With Monsieur Paoli, sous lieutenant in the French Navy !" .says Mr Barnes. "Ah ! you camo then as a friend of the Frenchman ?" " No ! lam here on my own hook !" "Then by what right-—?" The English man is drawing himself up haughtily. " I am a friend of his sister's !" interrupts the Americrn. "Bis sisteri" ejaculates the second in surprise. The Englishmen look at each other, and the principal turns away with a soft look in his eyes. His second does not regard the matter in the same light, as he sneers, " All breakers ahead ! I guess you're his sister's lover, and perhaps are spoons enough on the sister to take the sister's brother's place !" " I am not spoons on the sister, but if I did take his sister's brother's place in front of you, sir, you would not like it. I am Bu-nes, of New York!" The American finds it difficult to keep his temper. This peculiar repetition of " Barnes, of JStew York," evidently set his hearer to think, ing, for he suddenly exclaims ; " Not Barnes of New York ? the celebrated rifle shot, who M'on the International off-hand cup, and whose shooting with the pistol in Paris as tonished the Frencheysso much 'The Times' said ?" "That's my name!" The answer is neither modest nor logical, but it is true, for Barnes's skill with all kinds of firearms has made his name celebrated the world over. "Then you're the man who can drive tacks, split cards, and hit swinging bullets?" Both the Britons look at him with much respect. For a man to bo admired in England has only to beat everybody else at some sport that calls for nerve and pluck ; and Mr Barnes, in the shooting gallery or before the butts in the open held, is, to use an Americanism, " on the top of the heap." "No, I don't care to stand before you," says the second. "I'd like to have one more chance of seeing England ; as I will, in spite of those brutes of Egyptians, the cholera, and all that; but before your pistol I'd have none." This speech has no fear in it, it is merely a statement of fact. "But we must settle this matter quickly," he goes on. " The Vulture " (he points to the gun-boat) " will sail in half an-hour. That Frenchman must be here in ten minutes or we return to our ship." "Then let me give you some wine; it always makes human nature more kindly. Mateo ! glasses for the gentlemen 1" While this is being done, Barnes goes out of the inn, and takes another long searching gaze up tho Bastia road. At first he can see no sign of moving life in the early morning light; after a time he is almost sure there is a little cloud of rising dust between two hills some miles distant. If that is she, it will be fifteen minutes before Marina comes. As he tuins away, two figures in French uniforms are rapidly approaching him along the road that conies from Ajaccfo ; and he knows that though the sister may be too late, the brother will be in time. Returning to the Englishmen again, he quietly says : " I know the inter ference of an outsider in cuch a matter as this is unusual, and may be impertinent, but before you fight the man I want to tell you of his sister. ' After a moment's paase, the principal now for the first time speaks. His voice, in contrast to his second-, is full of feeling, his manners cultured, as he says: "His sister ? What can any man's sister have to do with a miserable affair of this kind ?" His voice softens on the word sister, while the other, his second, turns his eyes sea ward, as if looking towards his home in old England. "A great deal," is the reply. "Have you no sister ?" " Yes, a dear one !" says the sailor. "But my sister in this matter takes her chance of losing a brother, and his sister must do the same. For God's sake don't talk to me of home and sisters, and all that, at such a moment as this! 1 Ashe hastily drinks down a glass _•■

wine to conceal an emotion that does him honour, Barnes now knows that, if he makes no mistake, his point is won. " I won't talk to you of your sister : I'll only speak to you of his." And he gives them in a fow words a description of the old Corsican home on a slope of the moun tain ; of the young and beautiful girl he has seen only the other day; her romantic temperament, that has but one passion— her love for her brother, the only one of her blood upon earth; and her expectation of that very day meeting him on his return from long foreign service. "After what I havo told you," Barnes concludes, " will you be the man to prevent that meeting ?" Tho question is put straight, and is answered squarely. " God forbid ! Not if I can avoid it." '' You can avoid it." " How ?" " By making an apology !" This is answered with equal squareness and more force hy the second. " I'm d->—d if ho will! I won't lot him !" Mr Barnes wonders how he got on to the quarter-deck, and more, why he was selected by one who is evidently a gentle man to support him in an affair of this delicate nature. But the principal interrupts his second, saying, " You have enlisted my sympathy for the young lady you describe, but her brother is a naval officer like me. Your appeal would do equally well to his com manding officer to prevent his going into action; and how do you suppose his com manding officer would answer you ? Be sides, I did not challenge the beggar ; I don't -want to kill him ; X only want to pro tect myself." " Aud if he pops at my friend, my friend shall pop at him !" rejoins the second, who is now becoming excited. Barnes pays no attention to his remark, but waits till he catches the eye of the principal, then looking him full in the face, says, " Very well, if he kills you ?" " There'll be one less Englishman for the Egyptians to shoot at!" " And if you kill him ?" says Mr Barnes. " I have told you already I don t want to kill him. I don't mind taking my chance of life or death on the quarter deck along with the rest in action, though I want no private blood-stains udou me; but a man with these foreign chaps out here must uphold the honour of the British sailor and that flag." He^.points to the beautiful ensign of his country, floating from the gaff of the distant gunboat, that wherever seen, the world over, means pro tection for the Anglo-Saxon raco. " Situ ated as I am, would you apologise?" he asked. " Yes, if I were in the wrong," says Mr Barnes. " But I am not in the wrong ; at least not more so than the other. This miserable affair all came about from a picture of • Punch,' intended to make men laugh, not murder each other." " Ah, yes ; political cartoone.when witty, make one side laugh and the other side savage. I wonder how many murders ' Punch' and ' Puck' have produced ?" The young naval officer is now 1 laughing at the remembrance of the picture. "It was so awfully jolly, you see. The lazy British lion —ha 1 ha ! —was eating all the fruit the French monkey was shaking down to him" —and he now describes the cut to his companion, who bursts, into a loud guffaw and says ; "A deuced nice mouthful it will be for the lion ; I wonder how we chaps 'ull like the dish, who have to do the crunching for the lion !" Mr Barnes takes another look up the Bastia road ; the dust cloud has left the hills and is now coming across the plain along the banks of the Gravona; it is a little larger, consequently nearer. But the two French officers are within three minutes'walk of the inn. He catches his man's eye and now strikes for the last time, saying: " For some political cause, it hardly matters what now, you got into a dispute that was not personal." " Not till he called me a liar !" " For which you knocked him down; you've had the best of the affair so far," in sinuates the mediator. " You see a man has to do something when a man calls him that; he can't swal low such a name ; I can't anyway !" rejoins the Englishman. "Yes," says Mr Barnes diplomatically. " I should not like to have anyone call me a liar ; he might be telling the truth, you know; 1 should have knocked him down too, but having knocked him down I should -re to kill him." herdoll"

"Then why not tender an apology -will you?'' " Y-o-s !" says the young man rather re Inctantly after consideration. " Then yon do it against my advice, ano if you do send one, curso bib if I'll carry it to a crowing parlez-vous ; I Wouldn't mind so much if It wasn't a frog-eater !" With these words the second rises, goes to the other end of the balcony, gazes at the gun boat, and whistles under his breath the air of an old sea-song. Barnes glances after him in digust; he likes bull-dog determination, but it is too much of a 'cosmopolitan to have anything butcontempt for bull-dog brains affd insular prejudice. "Nevertheless I shall offer an -apology," says thoEnglish gentleman, after looking at the English bull-dog with a light smilo, " but one that can in no way degrade me or lower the uniform I wear." " That's the answer of a brave man and a brick !" cries the enthusiastic Barnes, grasping his hand. " I wouldn't have you do more." " But in case ho Bhould not receive my explanation ?" " He shall receive it; I'll guarantee that he does. I have something here" (Mr Barnes is thinking of Marina's laurel flowers) " that will make nim receive any reasonable explanation." "All! something from his sister," says the Englishman. " I'm glad of that; I've no wish to injure him more than I have done, and no wish that ho should injure me. My friend there is not just the man I should have liked to have brought with me on such an affair. Though true as steel and brave as any, he's too hot-headed." He speaks thi3 under his breath. "The pugnacity of youth," suggests Barnes in the same tone. "Yes. I should not have brought him, but none of my wardroom messmates could get leave, I am sorry if anything he has said annoyed you." "Not at all! I took it for what it was worth." Barnes is here interrupted by the objecb of their colloquy advancing to them and saying to his comrade, " You have decided to send an apology ?" " Yes! 1 shall simply say that I am sorry I knocked him down." •• No more?" " Not another word !" "And if he does not receive it?" " Then I'll defend my life and my honour as best I can," comes the reply. " I'll take that message with a great deal of pleasure !" says the second. " Why ?" This question is from Barnes. The answer comes straight as a shot. "Because I know Frenchy will never re ceive it. Curse him !" With that this British mastiff produces two old-fashioned ship's pistols of the kind used in the last generation, and begins to examine and test them, ihe name of their maker, Jnrvis, and the date of their manufacture, 1854, is stamped upon them. " You're not going to uee those things ?" says Mr Barnes, glancing with contempt at the weapons, and noticing their age and maker. "Why not? They are the only ones I could pot without having questions asked. They'll kill a man as well as the best duel ling p.stol ever made." "Are you much of a shot?" remarked Barnes to the principal. " The worst in the world !" is the reply. " Then you are just the man to be deadly with one of these." Barnes picks up the weapons and examines them. They are simply old percussion pistols, with very large boxes, long barrels, and timber enough in their sto- ks to make a pair of walking-canes. Be pits them down, noting as he does so that one has scratched upon its stock, apparently done in some moment of idleness with a knife, a name— "Edwin Gerard Anstruther" —though the other is free from all inscription. He has been rather curious to discover who the English officer is, and notes this with some interest, as the two men have carefully avoided calling each other by name during their interview with him. Mr Barnes, however, continues: " I'm morally certain a crack shot, if he pointed one of these things straight at his man, would miss him ; but a duffer with a pistol would be sure not to hold true, and would be very liable to blow the top of his oppo nent's head off, You're not anxious to do that, are you ?" " No!" slowly says the Englishman. "Then I'll teach you how to miss him." With that he takes a couple of sighting shots, discharging the pistols at the face of the cliff that is near biro, and noting with

j careful accuracy the places where the 1 bullets struck. " Ah, now I can tell you exactly what they'll do at twelve paces, as they both shoot pretty much the same. Their elevation i.s near enough, but hold either of them two-feet to the right of your man and your ball'll go plump through him." ■ •-'' ••' '■'■ " And if," says the second with a laugh, " you hold two feet to the left of him, how then V "Then, standing where one of yon must probably stand, you'd havo a very fair chance of bagging ono of your Corsican boatmen." "Then what shall I do to miss him?" inquires the lieutenant ,[ "Shoot right straight at him-and he's safe as if he wasn't Bhot at," triumphantly replies Barnes; During this dissertation upon firearms, the English combatant has been looking seaward. His nautical eye has caught a sign of the immediate departure of his vessel, for he suddenly says, "If my oppo nent doesn't come soon he'll not find me here. I. can wait but little longer. The Vulture is taking up hor slack cable." The second, who has been looking anxiously down the Ajaccio road and has espied the two French officers, cries quickly, " That's your man, isn't it ?" " Yes," responds the other, and then hurriedly says, bowing politely, "I'mmuch obliged to you, Mr Barnes, of New York. You will excuse our not giving our names *and asking you to forget our faces, for were this affair known—and how it may—it would mean a court-martial for both of us." " You can be sure I'll forget to-morrow I ever saw you 1 Nob complirueritajryy but satisfactory," laughed the American. The lieutenant shortly adds : " I shall remember my promise; you have my word," Then the two Britons descend the Btairs, the midshipman remarking to his companion, sotlo voce : " That American Barnes, of New York, is a devilish queer bird." So they disappear. The two men in French uniform are just entering the inn; but the dust cloud on the Bastia road is now not two miles away. Circling into the air like a tropic water-spout, it is coming as fast as tired horses can bring it. By the aid of his field-glass Barnes discovers in this cloud moving f.rms; one a female figure, eager and impatient, advancing before the rest. Something in its graceful pose tells him it is Marina. If he can post pone her brother's meeting till she comes, no man with blood in his body could fight a duel if that sister implored him to desist. Barnes turns hurriedly to the man whose face tells him he is the one to whom he must address himself, but as he advances he hears him whisper to the erect military figure thab strides at his side: "Remember, Andre ; it is ala mart /' (To be Continued.)

Secretaries of mercantile associations, public companies, friendly, masonic, liter ary, trade and other societies are requested to send matter intended for publication in the Directory attached to Brett's Almanac before the end of the current week. No charge is made for the insertion.

Gent?! ties, collars, shirts, half hose and mercery of every description. Our own importing and at lowest prices at Smith and Caughey's.—(Advt.)

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 23. 188 T.

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