truggle commenced. Their feet soon slipped
upon the wet rock, and they fell, still grasping each other's throats,
foaming with rage, and hate, and desperation. The fire, now nearly out,
afforded little light for the contest; but as they rolled over the
smouldering embers, clouds of sparks arose, their clothes and hair were
burned, and their faces scorched by the heat. The Carlist was unarmed,
save with a clasp-knife, which, being in his pocket, was useless to him;
for had he ventured to remove one hand from the struggle even for a
moment, he would have given his antagonist a fatal advantage. At length
the contest seemed about to terminate in favour of Ignacio. He got his
enemy under, and knelt upon his breast, while, with a charred,
half-burned branch which he found at hand, he dealt furious blows upon
his head. Half-blinded by the smoke and heat, and by his own blood, the
Carlist felt the sickness of death coming over him. By a last effort he
slipped one hand, which was now at liberty, into his pocket, and
immediately withdrawing it, raised it to his mouth. His teeth grated
upon the blade of the knife as he opened it, and the next instant
Ignacio, with a long deep sob, rolled over among the ashes. The Carlist
rose painfully and with difficulty into a sitting posture, and with a
grim smile gazed upon his enemy, whose eyes were glazing, and features
settling into the rigidity of death. But the conqueror's triumph was
short-lived. A deep bark was heard, and a moment afterwards a wolf-dog,
drenched with mud and rain, leaped into the middle of the embers.
Placing his black muzzle on Ignacio's face, he gave a long deep howl,
which was succeeded by a growl like that of a lion, as he sprang upon
the Carlist.

The morning after the storm, when the charcoal-burners returned to their
fires, they found two dead bodies amidst the ashes. One of them had a
stab in his breast, which had caused his death. The other was
frightfully disfigured, and bore marks of the fangs of some savage
animal. In that wild district, the skirmishing-ground of smugglers and
_douaniers_, the mountaineers think little of such occurrences. A hole
was dug, the bodies thrown into it; and a cross, rudely cut upon the
rock, alone marks the spot where the midnight conflict took place.

* * * * *

MEMORANDUMS OF A MONTH'S TOUR IN SICILY.

LEAVING NAPLES.

STEAM-BOATIANA.

The _Francesco Primo_ was to leave the harbour