The inquiry terminated on the thirteenth of May, and the depositions were on the same day laid before the criminal tribunal of Novogorod by the captain Isprawnik. On the twenty-ninth of May the tribunal pronounced the decree which condemns: Paul Ivanovitch Hortinja to perpetual banishment in Siberia, and ten years labor in the mines. Jerome Smilabej, Armenian merchant, to one year and six days imprisonment, a fine of one thousand rubles, and the costs. Pierre A. Tsaryna, being a soldier, was sent before the military tribunal. On the fourth of June, the military tribunal of the first corps of the army, assembled at Novogorod, condemned Pierre A. Tsaryna to pass three times through the rods of a squadron, and afterwards to be transported to Siberia, where he must labor in the mines for the rest of his life. These decrees have been submitted to the emperor, and confirmed by him with this change: Hortinja is perpetually banished, but will not be obliged to labor in the mines. On the third of June, the decree was executed on Pierre A. Tsaryna, who was so severely beaten that there is little hope of his recovery; he has been taken to the hospital of Novogorod. L’Abeille du Nord, a Russian journal of St. Petersburg, reached us at the same time with the letter of our correspondent. It gives an account of this affair, and also adds that the emperor has deigned to decorate the girl Nadiejda with a medal of gold on the ribbon of Saint Waldimir. The Cornet Semenov married Nadiejda Yakovlevna as soon as the trial was concluded. * * * * * PERDITI. PART SECOND. BY WM. WALLACE, ESQ., AUTHOR OF “BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE,” “MARCHES FOR THE DEAD,” ETC., ETC. AMERICAN BATTLE SHIP. I. Out on the sounding sea, With a flag of stars and a row of steel, ’Mid the tempest scowl and the battle peal— The great ship of the free! Away from her moorings—away o’er the wave— How proudly she bears the glad hearts of the brave! In the sun-burst of morning, the darkness of night, Like a goddess she strives with the gales: Behold her alone in her glorious might, With her banners of beauty and streamers of light, Like a condor when out on his terrible flight, Where the breath of the tempest prevails. Hark, hark! ’tis her thunder! her flags are all out, And the lightning’s the wreath she will wear; Now it shines on her mast—now ’tis hurried about, ’Mid the ring of the sword and the rapturous shout, By the breath of the sulphury air.