as to the young woman whom you saw at "Very well. What else is there that I can do for you?" "I hardly know how to go on as you are SO -so hard in all that you say." "You will not be able to soften me, I fear." "About the houses- though you say that I am trafficking, I really wish to be honest with you." 66 Say what you have to say, then, and be honest." "I have never seen but one document which conveys the ownership of those houses." "It is in Balatka's house." "That can hardly be possible," said Trendellsohn. "As I am a Christian gentleman," said Ziska, "I believe it to be in that house." “As I am a Jew, sir, fearing God," said the other, "I do not believe it. Who in that house has the charge of it?" Ziska hesitated before he replied. "Nina, as I think," he said at last. "I suppose Nina has it herself." "Then she would be a traitor to me." "What am I to say as to that? said Ziska, smiling. Trendellsohn came to him and sat down close at his side, looking closely into his face. Ziska would have moved away from the Jew, but the elbow of the sofa did not admit of his receding; and then, while he was thinking that he would escape by rising from his seat, Anton spoke again in a low voice so low that it was almost a whisper, but the words seemed to fall direct into Ziska's ears, and to hurt him. "What are you to say? You called yourself just now a Christian gentleman. Neither the one name nor the other goes for aught with me. I am neither the one nor the other. But I am a man; - and I ask you, as another man, whether it be true that Nina Balatka has that paper in her possession — in her own possession, mind you, I say." Ziska had hesitated before, but his hesitation now was much more palpable. "Why do you not answer me?" continued the Jew. "You have made this accusation against her. Is the accusation true?" "I think she has it," said Ziska. "Indeed, I feel sure of it." "In her own hands?" "Oh yes;in her own hands. Of course it must be in her own hands." "Christian gentleman," said Anton, risin again from his seat, and now standing oppo site to Ziska, "I disbelieve you. I think tha you are lying to me. Despite your Christianity, and despite your gentility - you are a liar. Now, sir, unless you have anything further to say to me, you may go." Ziska, when thus addressed, rose of course from his seat. By nature he was not a coward, but he was unready, and knew not what to do or to say on the spur of the moment. "I did not come here to be insulted," he said. "No; you came to insult me, with two falsehoods in your mouth, either of which proves the other to be a lie. You offer to give me up the deeds on certain conditions, and then tell me that they are with the girl! If she has them, how can you surrender them? I do not know whether so silly a story might prevail between two Christians, but we Jews have been taught among you to be somewhat observant. Sir, it is my belief that the document belonging to my father is in your father's desk in the Ross Markt." "By heaven, it is in the house in the Kleinseite." "How could you then have surrendered it?" "It could have been managed." It was now the Jew's turn to pause and hesitate. In the general conclusion to which his mind had come, he was not far wrong. He thought that Ziska was endeavouring to deceive him in the spirit of what he said; but that as regarded the letter, the young man was endeavouring to adhere to some fact for the salvation of his conscience as a Christian. If Anton Trendellsohn could but find out in what lay the quibble, the discovery might be very serviceable to him. "It could have been managed; - could it?" "Between he said, speaking very slowly. you and her, perhaps.' or "Well, yes; between me and Nina; between some of us," said Ziska. "And cannot it be managed now?" "Nina is not one of us now. How can we deal with her?" "Then I will deal with her myself. I will manage it if it is to be managed. And, sir, if I find that in this matter you have told me the simple truth, not the truth, mind you, as from a gentleman, or the truth as from a Christian, for I suspect both, - but the simple truth as from man to man, then I will express my sorrow for the harsh words I have used to you." As he finished speaking, Trendellsohn held the door of the room open in his hand, and Ziska, not being ready with any answer, passed through it and descended the stairs. The Jew followed him and also held open the house door, but did not speak again as Ziska went out. Nor did Ziska say a word, the proper words not being ready to his tongue. The Jew returned at once into the synagogue, having during the interview with Ziska worn the short white surplice in which he had been found; and Ziska returned at once to his own house in the Windberg-gasse. HYDRAULIC BUNG. - Dr. Weber has recent-, hands, and seem to form part and parcel of the ly brought before the Industrial Society of Mulhouse a bung of his invention, which allows of the escape of carbonic acid gas during fermen tation, but prevents loss by the evaporation of alcoholic vapours. It is sometimes difficult to know whether fermentation has ceased or not, and if the cask be closed before it has done so, there is a risk of the cask being burst. With the improved bung, which is similar in principle to an ordinary stench trap, there is no danger of this, as the carbonic acid gas can escape whenever it has attained sufficient pressure to force itself under the edge of the inverted trap. The bung is constructed of pottery-ware, and is not, we presume, intended for permanent use. woman herself. If you take a walk towards Tingwall, you will meet or pass dozens of women going for or returning with peats from the hill, all busy knitting. -one a stocking, another a stout shawl or cravat. The finer articles scarfs, veils, and lace shawls, which are often exquisitely fine-cannot be worked in this off-hand way, and are reserved for leisure hours at home. The "keyshie". -a straw basket, like a large inverted beehive-may be full or empty, but you never fail to find the busy fingers. This carrying of peats is an almost daily task, and you sometimes see a woman with strongly marked features and large frame, who, from constant exposure to sunshine and shower, and rendered gaunt and wiry by hard work, recalls Sir Walter Scott's description of "Norna of Fitful Head." The poorer classes generally CAPTAIN BURTON, who is now in Brazil, has wear no shoes, but "rivlins," a kind of sandal made important discoveries, the effect of which made of untanned cowhide, or sometimes sealwill be so beneficial to the empire that we doubt skin, with the hair outside, and lashed to the not his name will be hereafter associated with its foot with thongs. All the wool of the pure greatest benefactors. When crossing the country Shetland sheep is fine, but the finest grows from St. Paul's to Rio, his attention was directed under the neck, and is never shorn off, but to some pizarro or hard clay, in which he at once "rooed"—that is, gently pulled. It is said recognised the bituminous shale which overlays that an ounce of wool can by skill be spun into the true coal measures, and in which petroleum upwards of 1,000 yards of three-ply thread. exists. Further search resulted in the discov- Stockings can be knitted of such fineness as to ery of limestone and oilstone, all lying within a be easily drawn through a finger-ring. The space of eight miles. It would be impossible to annual proceeds of the industry are said to be over-estimate the result of these discoveries, they not less than £10,000. It is quite common for augur a future of vast importance for Brazil. a servant, when making an engagement, to stipCaptain Burton has also been delivering lec-ulate that she shall "have her hands to herself," tures before distinguished audiences one, on El Medinah, which he delivered in French at the Collegio de D. Pedro Segundo, is given in English in the Anglo-Brazilian Times of the 9th July last. Trübner's Record. SHETLAND STOCKINGS AND THEIR KNITTERS. - There is perhaps no community that gives such indications of industry among the female population as Shetland. The knitting needles and the worsted are continually in their meaning that all she can make by knitting is to Good From the Cornhill Magazine. A NIGHT ON THE ORTLER SPITZ. THE following description of a perilous adventure is taken from the papers of the late Robert Jacob, Esq. (of Dublin), who, with his relative, Mr. Walpole, ascended the Ortler Spitz Mountain during a tour through the Tyrol in the month of August, 1861. The narrative was penned a few hours after the occurrences to which it refers took place. We left the Albergo della Santa Maria at an early hour, and soon reached the summit of the Stelvio Pass, from which we had a fine view of the mountains of the Tyrol, Italy and Switzerland, for a vast distance around; the chief object of attraction being the majestic Ortler Spitz, the king of the Tyrolean mountains, its summit crowned with snow, and its sides seamed with glaciers. After a rapid descent by extemporized paths, which we made in order to avoid the weary zigzag road, we soon entered the Austrian dominions, and at noon reached the village of Trafoi. Having determined to attempt the ascent of the Ortler Spitz, we at once made inquiries for guides, and, after a lengthened search, we discovered two men, Joseph Schaff and Anton Ortler, with whom we arranged to undertake the difficult enterprise next day. We spent the evening in making preparations for the ascent, laying in a stock of provisions, testing the ropes with which we were to be tied together, obtaining veils and spectacles to preserve our eyes from the dazzling glare of the sun's rays on the snow, and attending to the various other things which are requisite in an attempt of this kind. A considerable amount of interest was excited amongst the visitors at the hotel, and an English lady most obligingly offered her services to us as interpreter. We were roused at one o'clock next morning, having had but a brief period for repose; and after a hurried breakfast, we started at 2.30. The guide, Schäff, preceded us with a lantern, to direct our steps through the darkness which prevailed at that hour. Our path lay at first through meadows and then stretched up through tall gloomy pine woods, frequented by bears in winter. Shortly after three o'clock we reached a small chapel, where three jets of icy cold water poured from the bosoms of three saints, sculptured in stone. The little place looked weird enough by the light of our lantern, as we entered it to obtain a draught of the water. Daylight appeared We We pursued our way up the steep slope, which was so soft that no step-cutting was needed to any extent the axes being only occasionally brought into requisition. About eight o'clock we reached some rocks commanding a grand view of the snowy valleys, glaciers, and heights around, and halted for about an hour, while the guides went forward and cut steps up the ascent of ice which formed the upper portion of the vast couloir, up which our difficult path lay. Unfortunately for us, it was quite denuced of fresh or soft snow, and we were obliged to keep as near as possible to some rocks on our right, after leaving which we had rather a trying time. The cliff of ice was awfully steep, so that it appeared nearly perpendicular, and whenever we ventured to take to the rocks, enormous masses of the friable limestone, of which the mountain is composed, came away almost at a touch, thundering down with fearful velocity. At one or two places we were obliged to swing ourselves round projecting crags of rock, holding on tightly with our fingers to the narrow ledges which were, however, really safer than the larger rocks, although more difficult to climb on. Of course, we were all well roped together, and took every step with great anxiety, since one false one might prove so dangerous. The icy couloir formed a sort of frozen wave at the side, so that what I may compare to a chimney was made between it and the rocks which up we had to climb. The strata being very much curved, at one point there was nothing intervening between the slippery ice and a tremendous precipice beneath but a layer of loose stones about two feet wide. This appeared to me the worst place I ever was in yet, as the moment we set our feet on the stones they rattled away beneath our tread - nów down the ice cliff on one side of us, now down the precipice at the other, according as our feet gave them direction. We had, as it were, to screw our nerves in a vice so as to give way to no weakness or shrinking. After two hours of this difficult work we reached a little plain, and after clambering up another stony cliff, we commenced the ascent of some mighty domes of frozen snow and ice, apparently of endless extent and height, split by occasional crevasses, which we crossed carefully without much difficulty. The day was extremely hot, and the labour very great; we had been able to eat or drink very little (feeling for my own part unable to touch anything), and we sometimes despaired of achieving the task we had undertaken. The guides had told us that we should reach the summit at midday, but the great couloir being in such a bad state they were quite put out in their calculations. At last, after two hours and a half more of great exertion we stood upon the summit of the Ortler Spitz at 2.30 P. M., just twelve hours after leaving the inn at Trafoi. We had now reached the desired spot, and from the top of this giant of the Tyrol, 13,000 feet above the sea level, we had a panoramic view of the Swiss and Tyrolean mountains in all their glory, which transcended anything I had ever before seen. The day was magnificent, and the peaks and icy valleys around glistened bright as gems in the blazing sunlight. The top of the Ortler Spitz is a large dome, at the end of which appears a little projection of ice which seemed to us higher than the spot where we stood, although the guides said that the latter was the actual summit. This projection, or tooth of ice, was surrounded by the huge jaws of a yawning chasm, and from its crown to its base ran an over-hanging cornice of ice which must be traversed if we should attempt it. It appeared sheer madness to venture at this late hour of the day upon the undertaking, with the prospect of a long downward journey before us, and we decided not to try it. We now began to descend, although we most reluctantly turned our eyes from the stupendous view before us. We passed readily over the crevasses and the domes until we were on its last slope, when J. slipped and I was dragged along with him; but we were soon pulled back by the stout arms of the guides. The sensation of slipping in such a position was horrible, although only for a moment. The day now began to change, a black cloud appeared in the north, and the Swiss mountains stood out with a portentous clearness that warned us that a storm approached. We now arrived where the descent of the first half of the great ice-cliff commenced, and certainly it was a terrifying place to be in. I led the way while Schäff held the rope round my waist, J. following, fastened in like manner to Ort ler. At the brink of the precipice two ravens flew up from the glen beneath, and perched on the rocks close by, maliciously croaking there, and refusing to be driven away-by no means raising our spirits by their appearance. Sunset now drew near, and the mountains presented an astonishing scene. A huge black curtain of cloud appeared to be drawn across the upper part of the heavens, below which the myriad peaks around literally glowed like spires of lurid flame rising out of a sea of gold. The scene was awful in the extreme, and pen or pencil could never adequately represent the strange and exciting spectacle which displayed itself to our gaze. It seemed to us more like some weird vision of another world than anything we had ever expected to see upon this earth of ours. It was near 7 P. M. before we descended the first half of the couloir, and we drew breath more freely when we reached the rocks which I mentioned before as having formed a resting-place during our ascent. The storm now slowly but surely approached, and we hurried on to descend the lower half of the couloir. The guides had chosen another way, which was the cause of our being plunged into unforeseen difficulties. The horrors of the upper passage were renewed, and as the darkness of the coming storm fast closed upon us, it became very difficult to plant our footsteps securely. We were lowered from rock to ice, and clambered from ice to rock, until we thought that the way could not be worse; yet still we could see no sign of the end, and it soon became certain that we must spend the night upon the Ortler Spitz. This was an appalling prospect, unprepared as we were for such an emergency; and well might the boldest heart feel a shudder at encountering the terrors of such a night as we now feared must be before us. We had come to the worst spot in the descent, where we had to be lowered over a smooth jutting piece of rock, with nothing to hold on by, down to the glassy couloir, from whence we had to climb to a little hollow on the side of the mountain. I took one look at the gulf below me, and went down, keeping my self-command with difficulty. It was soon over, however, and I crept round to a ledge overhung by rocks. We were scarcely settled here, when the tired into a nook by himself. Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock came. Oh! how slowly the weary night wore on! Many hours appeared to pass by, and yet when I looked at my watch by the moonlight, frequently not half-an-hour had really elapsed. We felt, however, we must try and win through, as it would never do to give way to despair. One o'clock, two o'clock passed, and our situation was becoming agonizing. My eyes would not keep open, and yet each moment I was awoke by a frightful forward movement, as if I were about to fall over the cliff. My brief doze appeared full of dreams, generally pleasant ones of home and repose. It was evidently now freezing, our teeth chattered with the cold, and we trembled from head to foot. Not a sound was to be heard save the bound of rocks or stones from the couloir, and the occasional roll of an avalanche. Sometimes the stones thunder came crashing around us, and the rain fell heavily. Schäff pointed, for our comfort, to another black chasm into which we had to be lowered, and said he feared there was no chance of our reaching Trafoi that night, in which we all agreed. It would have been certain destruction to have proceeded at that hour, yet the horrors of having to remain on the ledge for the night, almost overpowered us. This ledge, or rather sloping shelf of loose stones, was divided into two little hollows, and was covered by the overhanging rock above us, from which, unfortunately, there was a constant dropping of water, so that there was not a dry spot to be found. We could not move forward lest we should fall over the precipice which lay beneath; we could not sleep, for there was no place to lie down in; and we dared not sleep leaning against the rock, as it involved the danger of tumbling over also. We could not walk back-came tumbling over our heads, but we wards and forwards, so as to keep ourselves warm with exercise, because the shelf we were on sloped so much, and the loose stones under our feet rolled down the height at every step. We had no food, no drink, no light, and our clothes were saturated with wet by the constant dropping from the rock over us. We were altogether in a most unenviable condition. The storm now came on in earnest; the thunder rolled like ten thousand pieces of artillery, and the echoes reverberated through the mountains as if they never would end. The lightning was intense flashing through the dark clouds; now in bright, white zigzags, and then in red streams of flame that lit up the peaks and snow-fields, as though they were on fire, while the great ice-cliff near us glowed as if it had been transmuted into one sheet of lava. The scene was too awful for one to be able to look at with composure, and I strove to keep my eyes closed, but in vain, each flash compelled me to open them, and gaze on the brilliant spectacle around. The storm ceased after two hours' duration, and the moon shone out peacefully over the mountains, forming a striking contrast to the preceeding scene. We were now shivering with cold in our wet clothes, but providentially there was no wind, otherwise I know not what we should have done. Ten o'clock arrived, and we had been here about two-and-a-half hours. I endeavoured to obtain some sleep leaning on a stone, while Schäff and I kept as close as we could together, in order to get a little warmth into our frames; the other guide had re were well protected from them by the overhanging cliff. At three o'clock the moonlight began to fade away, and everything grew dim. Schäff had gone into the nook with the other guide, and J. and I stood together intently watching for the first glimmer of daybreak over the distant mountain tops. I scarcely moved my eyes now from the heights over which I knew the dawn would appear. At four o'clock we saw the welcome streaks of light, and at five o'clock I roused the guides, but to our horror one of them told us that he feared we could not reach Trafoi that day either. He said he was sick, and certainly looked worse after the night than any of us. The rain that had fallen the evening before had been frozen over the snow of the couloir, and had converted it into one smooth glassy surface, down every yard of which steps would have to be cut. As day advanced, Schaff revived, and sent Ortler to cut the steps, and at 7.30 we heard the welcome words, "Now you go forwards,” and we braced up our nerves for the struggle, glad at any rate to leave the ledge where we had spent twelve such weary hours. We had first to walk across the line of steps cut in the ice, until we reached the centre of the couloir, when we began to descend. We soon got to the end of these steps, and as fresh ones had to be cut as we descended our progress was slow, and the labour entailed on the leading guide very heavy. The rocks and stones came bounding down all this time, the large ones with loud crashes, and the smaller ones with a sound like the whizz of a rifle bullet |