Ladies’ Edinburgh Magazine > Volume 5

A Letter from Sandwell. 277
long a new fear took possession of her mind, for she thought
their purpose might be to murder her in this scene of desola¬
tion. The increased gloom of Filippo seemed to favour the
idea.
This suspense was horrible, and she hailed with gladness
the loud barking of a dog, which was followed by the appear¬
ance of a man from behind what looked like a cavern in the
rock. The bullock-driver at once threw down his guiding-
staff, and left the new-comer to unyoke the animals, while
he disappeared behind the rocks. Concetta felt they had
now reached the place of her imprisonment, and pressing her
little crucifix to her bosom, inwardly prayed to be supported
in the coming trial, whatever it might prove to be.
She needed no second bidding to dismount from the cart,
and was meekly following Filippo in the direction take*n by
the young man, when a sudden movement of the bullocks
made her look round. She could hardly restrain an exclama¬
tion when she saw it was Matteo who was occupied with
them. He had purposely caused the animals to make this
restless movement in order to attract her attention, then
covertly raising his finger to his lip to imply caution, and at
the same time assure her of his continued watchfulness, he
resumed his employment, and took no further notice of her.
She obeyed this silent warning by showing no sign of recog¬
nition ; but her heart was lightened by this proof that she
was not forgotten, and had still a friend in this remote
and desolate solitude.
{To he, continued')
% iLetter from SantiiriclL
The following letter will, we are assured, be read with the greatest
interest by all who seek to further women's education.
It is with great pleasure I comply with your request, and
write an account of my new home, Sandwell. I will endea¬
vour not to give coulevr-de-rose to any of our surroundings ;
but if the description seems sunny to others, I can only say
the place is sunny to myself. There are passing clouds, but
these are not to be named in comparison with the bright¬
ness. Sandwell is to almost all its inmates a happy home.
A drive of five miles from Birmingham, through the healthy
suburb of Handsworth, and lanes shaded with trees, until
we forget we are on the very edge of the Black Country,
brings you to one of the lodges, and then a short way