The Human Vampire; Or, The Elixir of Life — page 14: what you’re looking at

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14 Vol. 1. No 4, THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY. People are not so particular here as to one’s antecedents, you know.” ‘*T presume not. I suppose not.” "No; andl when you have a nice home, are happy, and have children around you, you will forget the past.” A shudder passed over her, a colder shade crossed her face, and her pule lps parted in a smile. Such a smile! ‘© So you see, Madge, it will be far better for all parties for us to let bygones be bygones.” ‘© Yes, I suppose you think so. the children around you!” She could feel the damp touch of an infant’s fingers on her breast, the deathly chill of a dying babe’s face and liands rest- ing upon her heart. Still he.regarded her calmly. They were face to face upon the cands. bunt their souls were countless leagues asunder. “Yes, I am certain you lave lost all love for me, Madge, so I do not mind telling you that I love my wife with all my heart. Never before have [ loved a woman; all the others were but passing fancies, ‘This is true love,” “Indeed?” How little he realized the storm of passion that raged through this woman’s brain. “Yes, she is a true woman, a loyely character, and she suits me. We are happy.” “A trae woman snits you!” The depth of contempt in her tone cut even this man to the quick. “T admit, Madge, I was formerly a bad man, but now, oh, be- LOS me! Iam changed. J am trying to live a good life—to do etter.’ His tone was eager, and, by his face, she saw that for once he told the truth. He meant whut he said. “Tmake my wife lappy, and my children, they are such lovely little angels!” Oh, how blind he was when he marked not the fierce flash of those eyes! “< You would enjoy seeing them die of cold and hunger, I sup- pose?” she said, with a curious tone, a sort of frightful humor, that chilled the life-blood in his veins. ‘‘Heavens! Why, Madge, it is easy to see that you know nothing of the love a parent feels for a child. My little ones are twins; they are miniature editions of my wife, and I would die— yes, die a hundred times, before I would allow one pang to tor- ture those darling little forms.” Tears stood in his eyes. He meant it, every word. “Ts that the case?” she asked, ag Her face had changed as suddenly as though all the gloom had dropped from if, quick as a lightning-flash. ‘“Yoes, Madge; and I hope to see you situated just as happily and pleasantly. TF orget the past.” Never, in all the long years of tortured memory, had the tiny death-cold fingers clung to her breast as they did now. “« Horget the past! Iam a gipsy!” With unconscious dignity, which was almost majestic, she turned away. ‘Now, Madge, never mind that foolish old idea. Gipsies can forget a wrong as well as any one else. You are a Christian, I auppose,” Mudge turned on him—not angrily, but with a calm, queenly gesture. "You bad better talk to me of your soul next,” she said, in a low tone. ‘‘Why not? You are capable of thinking that you ean save your soul.” His face fell. “(My wife thinks so,” he said. “Certainly. She isso happy with you here, that she expects to meet youin heayen.”’ “Yes, she does.” He spoke humbly. Madge laughed. ‘¢ Pious, worthy man!” *¢ Don’t mock me, Madge! piness—I know it well.” “The charming babies! The prospects of heaven!” A laugh, cold and mocking as the laugh of fiends, rang out in miirthless accents across the sand, ““Don't, Madge, don't, for Heaven’s sake!” “Oh, * Heaven’s sake’ does not appeal to me. eternal happiness.” “* Why not?” “T shall bid yon good-night. Go home to your angelic wife, and say your prayers beside vour lovely twins. I think you said you would not enjoy seeing them die of cold and hunger!” ‘Madge, do not torture me by such talk.” You have the happy home, T know I do not deserve my hap- The happy home! The angelic wife! I never expect “Talk! What torture is it to listen to talk?" “©T eannot bear it. Oh, Madge, if yon only knew how T love those little ones!" ‘Perhaps I can understand. Youseelamanurse now. I take care of Mrs, Derwent’s baby.” ‘© Has she a baby?” he earnestly asked. ‘Yes, born five months after the death of his father, poor little fellow!” ** Indeed! “Very.” Madge now turned away, and was walking off without a fare- well word, when Decker called her back. «J have no wish that you should work,” said he. ‘I will make you an allowance.” “Have you so much money, then?” **T am well off.” “T understood the money was your wilfe’s,” “Yes; her father put mein business. Ican afford to make you an allowance.” “No, thank you.” ‘And, Mudge, you will give me your word that you will not expose me?” ‘T shall promise nothing.’’ “But, Madge, what good could you do by ruining me?” “No good.” « Then leave me in peace. surely you can forgive me. ask in reason.” **T ask nothing. «And you will not meet me?” “No. When next we meet it will be because you have sought me.” Without another word she left him, walking rapidly away over the sand, He was far from satisfied. “ Her infernal gipsy blood will show itself,” he muttered. “There is no forgiveness in that nature. I wish I had never come to Newport. Idzread her! Yet, after all, whut can she How sad!” I know I acted like a villain; but I am willing to do anything you 1” do? If she denounced mel should deny the tale. Pshaw! I shall cast aside all scruples and fears, Now, for my midnight conference with Lohn. He, too, grows tiresome. Soon I must rid myself of him.” CHAPTER XIII. MR. LOHN BECOMES ANNOYING. In a delightful little room overlooking the sea, Jabez Lohn awnited the return of Marshall Decker. The room was fitted up as a library and study, the walls wero lined with shelves filled with books, and in a large closet, which was kep£ locked, there was a regular assortment of chemicals, and the appliances for experimenting with them—in fact, a well- appointed laboratory. Mrs. Decker had rather a horror of this room. Like many other ladies, she associated the idea of chemicals with explosions, and often begged her husband to be careful and not blow up every one in the honse. Jabez Lohn was greatly altered from the stooped old man who had been the recluse of Spotswood. He was a tall, fine-appear- ing gentleman of middle age, with erect form, elastic step, and bright eyes. His hollow cheeks were well rounded, and wore the flush of health. He had dropped twenty years of his age, «Well, Marshall,” he said, as his nephew appeared looking somewhat pale and exhansted after his interview with Madge, “T have been waiting for you for an hour.” He glanced at a handsome, black marble time-piece on the mantel. “T was defained. What is wrong, Lohn? Yon asked for this private interview with so much mystery.” The old man looked disturbed and uneasy. “The fact is,” he said, after a little hesitation, ‘‘ that the effect of our life elixir is wearing off.”’ “ Well, wa must repeat the dose,” said Decker, listlessly. *«T have done so, but without effect.” What?” ‘You are much ocoupied, and I did not wish to trouble you, so I performed the operation myself, but it produced no effect.” “Yon have omitted some ingredients.” ‘* No, I was careful to omit nothing.” Decker seemed to take little interest, : “The fact is,” he said, calmly, ‘you are rather too old to be a good subject.” Lohn’s face flushed angrily. “ Some years ago you came to my house in an exhausted con- comicbooks.com