the purpose of visiting some ruin, or viewing some

famous prospect.

On such occasions, Vittore's accomplices were in waiting; and the unsuspecting stranger-pillaged and alarmed, would return to the vettura penniless.

Vittore would be foremost in his commiseration; and with an air of blunt sincerity, would proffer the use of his purse; such conduct ensuring the gratitude, and the after recommendations of his dupe.

It is supposed that the vetturino had contemplated rifling the carriage in the inn yard; but some suspicion as to the servant's not leaving the luggage, and the sort of dog fidelity displayed by Thompson towards the brothers; had induced him rather to sanction an attempt on George during his imprudent excursion to Barberini.

Vittore Santado was executed near the Piazza del Popolo, and to this day, over the chimneypiece of many a Roman peasant, may be seen the tale of his crimes-his confessions-and his death; which perused by casual neighbour guests-calls

up many a sign of the cross-and devout look of rustic terror.

After the incident we have related in the last chapter, George Delmé, contrary to Sir Henry's previous misgivings, enjoyed a good night's rest, and arose tolerably calm and refreshed.

The following night he was attacked with palpitation of the heart.

His brother and Thompson felt greatly alarmed; but after an hour's severe suffering, the paroxysm left him.

Nothing further occurred at Storta, to induce them to attach very great importance to the shock George's nerves had experienced; but in after life, Sir Henry always thought, he could date many fatal symptoms from that hour of intense excite

ment.

Delmé was in Rome two days; during which period, his depositions, as connected with Santado, were taken down; and he was informed that his presence during the trial would not be insisted on.

Delmé took that opportunity again to consult his medical friend; who accompanied him to

Storta, to visit George; and prescribed a regimen calculated to invigorate the general system.

He directed Delmé not to be alarmed, should the paroxysm return; and recommended, that during the attack, George should lie down quietly —and take twenty drops of Battley's solution of opium in a wine glass of water.

As his friend did not appear alarmed, Delmé's mind was once more assured; and he prepared to continue their journey to Florence, by the way of Perugia.

Punctual to his time, the new vetturino-as to whose selection Sir Henry had been very particular –arrived at Storta; and the whole party, with great willingness left the wretched inn, and its suspicious inmates.

There certainly could not be a greater contrast, than between the two Vetturini.

Vittore Santado was a Roman; young-inclined to corpulency-oily faced-plausible-and a most consummate rascal.

Pietro Molini was a Milanese; elderly-with hardly an ounce of flesh on his body-with face

scored and furrowed like the surface of the hedge pippin-rough in his manners-and the most honest of his tribe.

Poor Pietro Molini! never did driver give more cheering halloo to four-footed beast! or with spirit more elate, deliver in the drawling patois of his native paesi, some ditty commemorative of Northern liberty! Honest Pietro! thy wishes were contained within a small compass! thy little brown cur, snarling and bandy-legged-thy rawboned steeds these were thy first care;—the safety of thy conveyance, and its various inmates, the second.

To thee the most delightful melody in this wide world, was the jingling of thy horses' bells, as all cautiously and slowly they jogged on their way-the most discordant sound in nature, the short husky cough, emitted from the carcase of one of these, as disease and continued fatigue made their sure inroads.

Poor simple Pietro! his only pride was encased in his breeches pocket, and it lay in a few scraps of paper-remembrances of his passengers.

One and all lavished praise on Pietro!

Yes! we have him again before us as we write -his ill-looking, but easy carriage-his three steeds the rude harness, eked out with clustering knots of rope-and the happy driver, seated on a narrow bench, jutting over the backs of his wheelers, as he contentedly whiffs from his small red clay pipe-at intervals dropping off in a dose, with his cur on his lap. At such a time, with what perfect nonchalance would he open his large grey eyes, when recalled to the sense of his duties, by the volubly breathed execration of some rival whip -and with what a silent look of ineffable contempt, would he direct his horses to the side of the road, and again steep his senses in quiescent repose.

At night, Pietro's importance would sensibly increase, as after rubbing down the hides of his favourites, and dropping into the capacious manger the variegated oats; he would wait on his

passen

gers to arrange the hour of departure-would

accept the proffered glass of wine, and give utterance to his ready joke.