I took you for a gentleman before," said the Kazee, "but now find that you are only a brigand. You may rest assured that I shall bring you to account for this attack."

"Perdition!" exclaimed Fiey Bux between his set teeth: "the old man is weary of life, and I shall put it out for him ;" and, flinging his latlee from him, he ran back like a madman to fetch a hog-spear, with which he struck Shumsere on the throat, and killed him on the spot

Fiey Bux, Omritram, and twelve others were tried for riot and murder. They all pleaded "Not Guilty," Fiey Bux's version of the story being as follows:-He said that he had been long engaged to Dhunbavoo's daughter, and that the girl was very anxious to marry him. The engagement had also the approval of their common zemindar, and Dhunbavoo was not opposed to it. The whole row was occasioned by Shumsere Kazee, who, presuming on his position and character, had attempted to carry off the girl that he might get her married to his son. With this object in view he had attacked Dhunbavoo's house at the head of a large party, whereupon the prisoners had run forward to the assistance of Dhunbavoo and his daughter. A fight ensued, and as Shumsere was in the thickest of it, he lost his life by a random spearthrust, it being unknown by whom it was inflicted.

Unfortunately there was no evidence to support this defence; while Dhunbavoo's story was fully substantiated at every point. The prisoners were, therefore, convicted, and sentenced-Fiey Bux to transportation and imprisonment for life, Omritram to seven years' imprisonment, and the rest to five years' imprisonment each.

Hossein Bux got cured of a cracked skull within a short time, but had to wait the termination of his mourning for his father before he could be married to Mushturee Beehee. The girl was worth having, but the associations connected with the wedding must have been very painful to him.

"THE HAND OF FATE."

REST not from thy labours though with laurels crowned, Germs of desolation in their sap abound!

Though a flow'ry garland should thy brow adorn,
'Neath its fairest blossoms there may lurk a thorn.

Though the beaded goblet, smiling, thou dost sip,
Dark and bitter dregs may taint thy ruddy lip.

Though the soul of laughter in thine eye appears,
Sad may be the lustre of to-morrow's tears.

Think not, since the bosom of thy love is fair,
That it need a heart of equal beauty bear.

Be not with the nectar of success elated,-
Pause before thy pride by others is abated.

Pause, and think how cruel is the hand of Fate,
Thine that hand! restrain it, ere it is too late!

CECIL MAXWELL-LYTE.

TALES FROM THE DRAMATISTS.

By ALFRED HENRY BROMILOW.

No. III.

BARBAROSSA."

THIS play was the production of Dr. Browne; but the author borrowed considerably from other pieces, particularly from the tragedies of "Merope," "Tamerlane," and the " Mourning Bride." Its success in 1755, when it was produced, was owing more to the genius of Garrick, who performed Achmet, than to any real, or very great merit, in the composition itself. In 1803, at Covent Garden, Master Betty made his appearance before a London audience, in the same character as the great David made famous. He was received with loud laughter, which, however, was turned into deafening applause before the end of the performance.

NEAR Algiers was the sumptuous palace of Barbarossa, and in one of its gorgeous apartments, decorated with all the luxury and pride of the glittering East, was Othman, and by his side, a slave, who announced the arrival of a visitor.

Upon the visitor's introduction he complained to Othman of his disloyalty to his true king; but the accused replied that he was firm in his allegiance, and that he only kept his station at the court of Barborossa, the usurper, to accomplish a fatal vengeance. The stranger's anger was appeased; he found that Othman was true to the core; and the two then entered upon a detailed account of the tyrant's doings. They spoke of the commands Barbarossa had given his slaves to pursue Selim, the son of the king he had murdered, and whose throne he had ascended, with instructions that, if they succeeded in catching him, they were not to be afraid of using the dagger.

Othman and his friend having made an appointment to meet near the western post of the city, Sadi, the stranger, was about to retire, when a flourish of trumpets betokened the approach of Barbarossa himself. The usurper, surrounded by a strong body of guards, saluted Othman with the term "Valiant," and asked how it was he seemed so depressed did he not know his master had returned from the conquest of the Moors? and wherefore this grief? Having made some excuse, Othman was saved further examination by a messenger, who proclaimed the death of young Selim. Othman started back; the king expressed his utmost joy. Another conquest had been gained, and now he awaited but one more, before making his power supreme-he would marry the widow of the king he had killed, and the mother of the youth whose death he

had just procured. He at once despatched Othman to woo Zaphira for him; and told him to assure her that if love would not make her his, at least power would.

Hereupon Othman left the chamber, and Irene, Barbarossa's daughter, attended upon the royal person. With tears in her eyes, she prayed her father to desist from his advances to the queen ; who desired to spend her life in weeping. Annoyed at this interference, Barbarossa accused his fair child of being an enemy to his glory; and asked her if she knew that by the death of Selim, his power in Algiers was absolute? At the mention of Selim's death, tears hot and many, fell from her eyes. Her father demanded to

know the reason of this; and from the story Irene told, it appeared that when she had been captured, and sold as a slave, Selim had ransomed her; and had asked her, as a token of her gratitude for the favour, to go and comfort his mother, and strive to assuage the ambition and tyranny of her father. But unrelenting the monarch left her, previously upbraiding her with having purchased freedom at the hands of an infidel, and annulling her request so far as to vow that he would take no rest until the queen, Zaphira, was his wife.

In another room, Zaphira sat bewailing her melancholy fate. When Othman entered she poured forth a volley of abuse on Barbarossa; but the cool warrior urged her not to lose her strength in madness; but to store it for revenge. But how avenge the deal? Brave Othman informed her. She must be pleasant with Barbarossa, and then ask him to allow her to seek her father's tents. It the request were granted, she must plead her cause before her parent, with such ardour, as should urge him to take the field and overthrow the tyrant. She resolved to do so, and her counsellor retired.

But alas? when Barbarossa asked for her hand, and mentioned Selin's name, Zaphira's blood boiled, and so, instead of pursuing that course Othman had advised her, she heaped imprecations on the head of her suitor and left him. At this point Aladin entered and made known the arrival of those who had killed Selim. The king called them in; but discovered a stranger among them, and requested to know what had become of Omar. It was explained that Omer had been killed, and that the stranger had taken his part in the affair, in support of which the unknown one produced a ring that Barbarossa had given to Omar. The proof was sufficient; and to celebrate the event, the king ordered a grand banquet to be given, at which the stranger, Achmet, should receive all honour for the deed he had accomplished. Having embraced Achmet, the monarch left him to converse with Othman

To test the warrior's feelings, Achmet announced himself as the murderer of Selim, whereupon Othman rose high in anger, for he loved the murdered youth.

"Well, then," said the stranger. "I will say that Selim lives; that he is in Algiers; nay, within his father's palace.'

Upon hearing this, Othman requested the speaker to go and ell Selim to quit the scene of danger, and await a more fitting opportunity.

"Coulds't thou," replied Achmet, "recognise Selim ?"

"I could, for he had a scar upon his noble forehead, and time can never blot it out."

"Like unto this," replied Achmet, raising his turban.

My king! my king!" exclaimed the astonished Othman.. When they had embraced each other, Selim, for Achmet was no other, told the tale of his adventures; and added that that night would be Barbarossa's last. There was to be a grand banquet, and when the soldiers were surfeited with wine, his friends intended to storm the palace, whilst he, still maintaining the dress of a slave, would, in the confusion, strive the tyrant's death-biow; and Algiers once more would be the capital of its awful king. Othman advised the use of caution; and after listenng to his words, Selim went to seek his mother, to whom he did not as yet intend to disclose himself, but to relieve her sorrows, by informing her that her son was still alive.

Irene, who had heard of this Achmet's arrival, sought his company. On beholding him she detected the fraud, and anticipated the object of his visit the murder of her father. He was alarmed, and shaken with her appeals for mercy; but though he loved the girl, he esteemed justice more than love, for which reason he would not, as she asked him, quit the palace, but accomplish the work he had undertaken.

From here, he went to Zaphira's chamber, and upon beholding his mother, found it difficult to repress his grief. She had so many questions to ask, such as what were Selim's last words, what was his last action, how he died, and other little details. Selim answered her, and said that, as Selim desired peace after his death, he had made a request that his mother should forget his father, and join her fate with that of Barbarossa. This advice the mother spurned, as unworthy of her noble son; and at length Selim, after much emotion, informed her that her youth was yet alive. With many blessings on the head of the stranger for this kind message, and with a hope that Selim would soon rescue his country and forlorn mother, Zaphira betook herself to her couch.

It was now midnight, and his cheeks being free from tears, Selim receive Othman and Sadi. All was prepared; the work of death, in a few instants, would be commenced. Selim gave strict orders for none to injure the innocent, or Barbarossa, as he intended to avenge his father's blood. All was quiet; there was a solemn