met had been placed. It had evidently been intended that he should wear it; but, his head being too large to enter, it had been put over it, and left lying between it and the wall. The surgeon stood looking on in amazement; but after a moment he said to a person standing at his side, Aibo, what mummery is this?' at the same time looking upon the objects of his surprise with some contempt.

Oh! don't you know, Signore Chirurgo, this is the armour of the blessed San Martino?' said the person spoken to. Whoever is rich enough to have it removed from the church where it is deposited, is sure to protect and save his soul from the attacks of demons in his last hour. Dio buono! we are all wicked; and many an unhappy soul has it saved from the fangs of the evil one. Ahime! few need its aid more than he who lies there now

The speaker was going on, but the surgeon interrupted the harangue, exclaiming, 'Let this-let these things be taken away at once, and let the room be cleared. If you expect me to do any good to the man, give me an opportunity of examining his condition."

The wish of the surgeon was at once complied with; the things were removed, and the relations and friends of the unhappy man withdrew from the room. The surgeon began questioning the person left with him relative to the malady of the patient.

'Meo was taken ill a few hours after his return last night, was he not?' said the surgeon, and has continued to get worse and worse till the present time.'

Gia! it is as you have said,' was the reply.

'But he went out as well as usual?'

Yes, he did; but for the last two months he has not been what he used to be. His head, I think ———.’

The surgeon looked hard at the speaker, and with a peculiar expression of face and voice, observed 'Yes-yes, I know-I know.'

He was just about to pass round by the feet to the other side of the bed, when the sick man turned his head, and rolled his bloodshotten eyes upon the surgeon. After a minute's steady gaze, with an expression of great suffering, and with a look of anxiety that amounted almost to terror, the dying man said, in a voice deep, husky, and unnatural, 'Oh, surgeon, for the love of God, save me!' and here he made a feeble attempt to clasp his hands, as if to beseech the help he asked, but he failed in his attempt, and his arms fell by his sides. With a wild stare he followed the movements of the surgeon, who went round the bed, and, taking a chair, sat down at its head. - The surgeon had evidently found his patient in a much worse condition than he had anticipated. After taking his hand and holding it for a short time in his own, the surgeon took down the waxlight, and examined the head and face of the sick man, which presented a sight so terrible, that no attempt can be made to describe it. After asking a few questions, which were replied to with difficulty, and apparently without giving satisfaction, the surgeon rose, put back the candle into its place, and, with a look of embarrassment and dismay, commenced pacing backwards and forwards in the room. A number of questions were then put to the woman, who still attended, and who was a hired nurse, as to the first symptoms which had appeared, and what had occurred since. These were all answered readily and fully; but the surgeon still appeared perplexed, and, with an earnest and inquiring look, again took his place by

the bed-side of the patient. He felt the skin, pressed the body, and as the unhappy man lay muttering some words, the surgeon put his ear down to his mouth to catch their meaning. The poor wretch complained of the tortures he endured, of the fire that was burning at his heart, in his stomach, his throat, and was now mounting to his head. An unquenchable thirst consumed him; he drank continually; but his state had now become so feeble, that the effort necessary even for this had become too much for him.

The surgeon had put every question he thought proper, and examined the case with the strictest scrutiny; but it was evident by his look and manner that he was perplexed, and knew not how to act. The nurse looked at him as if waiting for some directions, and at length she asked, What is to be done, chirurgo?"

Without replying to her question, the surgeon asked, ' Has he confessed and communicated?'

'An hour before you came he received the sacrament and the viaticum. Is there no hope for him?' 'I fear not,' was the reply. He has sunk too low.' Then, pausing for a minute, the surgeon said, Something, perhaps, might be done. There are some inquiries I should like to make of him; but he cannot answer me. I must try it,' said he, speaking to himself,'tis his only chance. Have you any wine there?-good wine, if you

have it-give it me.'

Pouring some into a small flask, the surgeon held the long and slender neck of it to the parched lips of the dying man, and gradually let the inspiring draught sink into the dry and exhausted springs of life. Like oil poured into an expiring lamp, the unhappy man revived, and after a few minutes groaned, as if new pains had attacked him, rolled his head, and attempted to turn himself.

The surgeon had taken his place at his side, and when he saw occasion he said, 'Meo Varrone, attend to me, and tell me honestly what you have been doing. You have again over-eaten yourself, or drank too freely-tell me how it is. What have done?' you

The man shook his head, and said distinctly, Nothing, surgeon, nothing.'

Tell me the truth,' said the surgeon, 'for your own sake, don't deceive me. You must have done as I say.'

'Per Cristo replied the man, still more excited, 'I have not. It is not drink it is the fire, chirurgo, the fire!'

'What fire ?' asked the surgeon.

Placing his hand upon his chest, and passing it along his throat to his head, the chief said, 'The fire !-here, here, here! God! how it blazes, rages, and burns! Can't it be put out? Dio buono !—it was that pale devil sent it into my heart long since, and there it has been burning and consuming all around it. Blood won't quench it-it has been tried-no, no! Blood!' he muttered to himself,-- I've spilt enough--but they have died-these will not--Devils !--drive off those infernal bats, chirurgo, and move me farther from the mouth of this cursed pit. Oh!' he cried out, his face expressive of the strongest terror, and seizing the surgeon by the shoulders, save me! save me! -I am slipping into it !--move me farther!--Hark! what are those sounds underground? They are coming up-their looks kill me!-Gesu Maria! I dare not- And here he covered his eyes with his hands, trembling and panting for breath.

The man lay quiet for a moment; and as the surgeon sat with his eyes fixed upon him, he remarked to himself, 'Poor wretch! he raves of what his conscience sees and his mind knows.' Then making another attempt to recall the wandering and terrified mind of his patient, the surgeon gently shook him, and called him by name:

Meo,' said he, attend to me:-I can render you no assistance. You must die, unless you will answer my questions truly, and without disguise.'

'Surgeon,' said the now exhausted man, in a faint despairing voice, 'I have done so.'

'Yes,' continued the surgeon, you have partly told me; but try and recollect yourself; for it is quite clear to me that you have taken something which is the cause of your illness. Where did you take your last meal yesterday?'

The man answered, Upon the mountains I ate that which I took with me.'

'And you drank?' said the surgeon.

'Some water about noon from the stream of the river, and nothing else.' After a moment's pause, the sick man added, 'Yes, I took some wine from the boraccio of a man I fell in with on my return home, a cacciatore-a stranger.'

'A young man of short stature?' inquired the surgeon. And it was you who attacked him, and left him on the road?'

The sick brigand indicated that it was from that person he had taken the wine. While his lips moved, and he attempted slowly and languidly to make known his meaning, the surgeon regarded him with a look of extreme anxiety and alarm, and when he fully understood him, he started upon his feet, exclaiming,

Then there is no hope for you, Meo: you are poisoned, and must die. Dio buono! it is now too late!'

As if struck with lightning, the wretched man threw himself back, raising his arm, and throwing open the bed-clothes, lifting his head, and regarding the surgeon with a look that almost made him quail under it. For a minute he remained fixed in the same position, as if suddenly converted into stone; but presently a convulsive trembling seized him, his arm fell, and his head sank upon his bosom. Gasping for breath, and with a look of eagerness and extreme terror, the brigand demanded who the stranger was, and how the surgeon knew what he had asserted. As if some new light had broken in upon the mind of the surgeon, he exclaimed with some gesticulation, I see it now, per Dio! the whole affair is clear.' Then speaking to the patient, he said, 'It is the man, who, dressed as a shepherd, led the force against you and the band at THE CASALE it is he who has dogged your steps for the last two months -it is the brother of Rosa and Nina.'

Those names had scarcely been pronounced when a wild yell burst from the lips of the dying man, and a responsive cry was immediately heard from the distant apartment to which his relatives and friends had retired, and who had caught the sound from the chamber of death. As if animated with a demon, gasping and foaming with unearthly fury, the dying, maddened, and unhappy wretch sprung from his bed, tore away the clothes, and dashed headlong forwards towards the opposite wall, against which he must have beaten out his brains, but at that monent the man, who had until

then been sitting on the side of a bed, rose and caught the chief in his arms. The weight of his huge body moving quickly, at once overpowered the strength of the man who attempted to detain him, and both were about to fall to the ground; but a simultaneous rush along the passage brought the relations and friends into the room to assist, and witness a scene which struck all with horror and dismay. Cries of surprise and alarm burst from the men, shrieks from the women, the echo of which rang through the desolate house, and died away in the bleak and barren space around it. There was a momentary struggle; but suddenly the unwieldy carcass fell to the floor upon its face, and when lifted, a few drops of blood had stained the place where it lay. But life had fled, and the terrible brigand chief, Meo Varrone, was no more.

HOURS IN HINDOSTAN.

BY J. R. ADDISON.

THE ADJUTANT.

THE bird thus called may occasionally be seen in the booths of itinerant showmen in Europe; but, cooped up, dispirited, and shivering, it is as different from the magnificent adjutant that crowns the parapets of the Government House in Calcutta, or proudly watches over the barracks in Fort William, as

'I to Hercules.'

In their free state, (I will not say wild, for they are as domesticated as the dog or cat,) these splendid creatures stand about five feet high. To describe their figure and form would be superfluous. In their native country they strut about with a solemn, pompous step, seemingly as if aware of being held in much veneration. In fact, no one is allowed to molest them, under a fine of two gold mohurs for the first offence, and expulsion from India (if a European) for a repetition of it.

The reasons for the protection thus afforded to them, arise, in the first place, from their being looked upon as 'sacred birds' by the Indians; and in the second, from their very great utility in destroying vermin and venomous reptiles, and their constant habit of carrying off carrion and other filth. From the latter quality arises their sobriquet of Calcutta Scavengers.' Their military designation has been conferred on them from the very curious circumstance of their never remaining in any place where soldiers are not to be found. They will follow even treasure-parties for thousands of miles, and will take up their abode in the smallest cantonment or garrison. Although in the most populous city in Asia, no adjutant will abide, should the troops be removed from it even for a single day. Add to this his stately march, which never goes beyond ordering time, his long watchings which he keeps like a vigilant sentinel, his stiff carriage, &c., and you have the combined reasons for his being called the adjutant.'

In his free state he seldom rises high. He flies from house-top to house-top, till he sees some object on the ground worth his attention, when he suddenly descends to pick it up, and carries it back to his high perch. These birds have also a nasty habit of throwing their long legs perfectly horizontally from them, and skimming along about three feet from the earth, their heads poked out straight before them, neither looking nor turning to the right or to the left. Some few years ago, an unfortunate dobee (a washerman) was running along in front of the Staff-buildings in Fort William, when suddenly arriving at the corner, where the brigade-major's house stood, he came full butt upon an adjutant who was thus amusing himself. The bird was unable to check his flight, or alter his career, and the man, equally incapable of stopping, came into direct collision with him. The beak of the adjutant entered deep into the abdomen of the wretched native, who almost instantly expired. The force of one of these huge creatures, when on the wing, must be more than equal to the power of a horse.

The cadets, and many of the European soldiers quartered in the fort, amuse themselves by watching the proceedings of these eccentric birds, and playing them various tricks. One of the strangest sights I ever saw was the flight of an adjutant from the cadets' barrack, down a portion of the fort generally called Crows' Alley, from the myriads of these noisy birds that have built their nests there. He was sailing along, his long legs trailing behind him, when, as usual, his inveterate foes, the crows, attacked him, pecking away at his heels as he floated slowly through the air, unable to turn himself round upon them. In perfect security they pursued him, annoying him in every possible way, and only quitting him when he alighted for a moment on any tree or building. Unaware, however, of the approach of the adjutant, an unfortunate 'hoodie' suddenly left the branch on which it was roosting, and flew across the enormous bird's track. The adjutant gave one snap, and, to my astonishment, (for I declare upon my honour I saw him do it,) he with little or no difficulty swallowed the luckless crow whole! I was curious to ascertain, as there exists a difference of opinion on the subject, whether the object thus taken passes directly into the stomach or the large pouch under the beak. In this instance I can positively affirm, that it must have gone through the regular channels of digestion, the pouch retaining its usual size, seemingly empty and flabby.

One of my brother officers used to amuse himself frequently after tiffin by throwing down meat into the yard, upon which two or three adjutants were sure to pounce. He would at the same time let loose a little Scotch terrier, and enjoy the fight between the birds and the dog. At length one day, one of the former, more hungry than usual, snapped at Master Vic's leg, which broke like a twig in the bill of his gigantic antagonist. Charles Frazer cursed the bird; but, as curses don't mend dogs' broken legs, the poor animal was maimed for life, to the no small chagrin of its master.

Another and more cruel joke, often played off on these creatures, is to tie two tempting pieces of meat together by a string some four or five feet long. Several birds instantly descend, and before the first has had scarcely time to swallow one of the tempting baits, a second seizes on the other, and rising, as they always do when they have