tered the house without speaking, while
Norwood followed him in silence. On a low truckle-bed lay the dead
soldier, his manly face calm and tranquil as the cold heart within his
breast. A weather-beaten, bronzed soldier sat at the foot of the bed,
the tears slowly flowing along his cheeks, as his bloodshot eyes were
fixed upon his comrade. It was the first blood that had been shed in the
cause of Italian independence, and Norwood stood thoughtfully staring at
the victim.

"Poor fellow!" said he; "they who gave his death-wound little knew what
sympathy for liberty that jacket covered, nor how truly the Hun is the
brother of the Italian."

"They were assassins and murderers," cried Frank, passionately; "fellows
who attacked us from behind walls and barricades."

"Your reproach only means that they were not soldiers."

"That they were cowards, rather,----rank cowards. The liberty that such
fellows strive for will be well worthy of them! But no more of this,"
cried be, impatiently; "is there a church near, where I can lay his
body,--he was a Catholic?"

"There is a chapel attached to the villa; I will ask permission for what
you require."

"You will confer a favor on me," said Frank, "for I am desirous of
hastening on to Milan at once."

"You will scarcely find your comrades there," said Norwood.

Frank started with surprise, and the other went on,----

"There are rumors of a serious revolt in the city, and some say that the
Imperial troops have retired on the Mantua road."

"They know nothing of Austrian soldiers who say these things," said
Frank, haughtily; "but there is the more need that I should lose no time
here."

"Come, then, I will show you the way to the chapel," said Norwood, who
could not divest himself of a feeling of interest for the young soldier.

Frank spoke a few words in Hungarian to his men, and hastily wrapping
the dead man in his cloak, they placed him on a door, his chako and his
sword at either side of him.

"You will see that he is buried as becomes a brave and a true soldier,"
said Frank, with a faltering accent, as they went along. "This will
defray the cost."

"No, no; there is no need of that," said Norwood, pushing away the
proffered purse. "We'll look to it ourselves."

"Let there be some record of him preserved, too, for his friends' sake.
His name was 'Stanislas Ravitsky.'"

"And may I ask yours?" said Norwood.

"You'll hear of it in the first court-martial return for M