"There was a fire here last night which burnt up an old corn-barn, and I have been taken up for it, by the officers. They think that I set the corn-barn on fire, but I did not do it. I suppose, though, that I shall have to be tried, and I expect that I must go to prison until the trial comes on, unless Mr. Keep could come down here and make some arrangement for me. You may depend that I did not set the corn-barn on fire. "Yours with much respect, "A. BIANCHINETTE." The officer read this letter when it was finished, and then asked Antonio whether it should be put into the post-office. Antonio inquired how much it would cost to send a boy with it on purpose. The officer told him what he thought it would cost, and then Antonio took out the money that he had in his pocket to see if he had enough. He found that he had more than enough, and so the officer sent a special messenger with the letter. "And now," said the officer, "you must go with me to my house. I am going to keep you there until the examination to-morrow." So Antonio took his cap and went down stairs with the officer. He found quite a number of men and boys at the door, waiting to see him come. These people followed him along through the street, as he walked toward the officer's house, some running before, to look him in the face, and some running behind, and calling him incendiary and other hard names. Antonio took no notice of them, but walked quietly along, talking with the officer. When he got opposite to the lane, he looked down toward the place where the corn-barn had stood. He found that it had been burnt to the ground. The ruins were still smoking, and several men and boys were standing around the place--some looking idly on, and some poking up the smouldering fires. There was something in Antonio's frank and honest air, and in the intelligence and good sense which he manifested in his conversation, which interested the officer in his favor. He told his wife when he got home that Antonio was the most honest looking rogue that he ever had the custody of. It shows, however, he added, how little we can trust to appearances. I once had a man in my keeping, who looked as innocent and simple-minded as Dorinda there, but he turned out to be one of the most cunning counterfeiters in the state. Dorinda was the officer's little girl. There was a room in the officer's house, which was made very strong, and used for the temporary keeping of prisoners. They put Antonio into this room and locked him in. The officer, however, told him when he went away, that he would bring him some breakfast pretty soon; and this he did in about half an hour. Antonio ate his breakfast with an excellent appetite.