Night-Hawk, The Mounted Detective — page 9: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE MOUNTED DETECTIVE. 9 ‘At thisinstant a cry of horror rang through ‘the house. “That is my daughter’s voice!’’ exclaimed Mr. Pladwell, as he rushed from the room. Miss Pladwell had sought to descend the etairs, when she saw the two masked burglars, and it was the sight of them that caused her to utter the cry of te1ror. , She was speedily reassured, and the detective went forth to find the neighbor with whom he «laimed an acquaintance. The latter proved to’ be a poor farmer who leased a farm some mile anf a halt from the Castle. The detective got the farmer to hitch up and return with him to Mr. Pladwell's house. The two burglars were pul. in a wagon and cairied to the county jail; and meantime the news of the attempted burglary and the capture of the burglars spread the country round, and a large crowd hung about the jail. Tom Hawk meantime sought the district at- torney, and held a long consultation with him, and at length returned about noon to the Castle. He held a second consultation with Mr. Plad- we]], aad then mounting his good horse, Bad- ger, rode away. | ~ ‘Tom Hawk knew well that he had only capt- ured a part of the gang, that indeed the biggest part of his work was yet to be done; but in the meantime he was set to solve one little mys- tery, and he struck a strange “‘ lay.” CHAPTER Xl. A DAY or two passed, and Tom Hawk during the time had been “‘ laying in wait ’’ for a cer- {ain development, and one clear moonlight might he struck his trail. It was just after ten o’clock at night when he - gaw a young lady, hooded and veiled, leave the hcuse into which he had seen Emily North enter on that night when he had discovered her faigting beside the toad. Paha!’ muttered the ofticer, ‘‘ my game has started at last.” For certain reasons the writer will not par- ticularly designate the locality where the inci- dent we are about to relate occurred. It is suffi- cient to state that in the midsummer the village is a great resort for summer visitors from the city—atcwon situated on a high bluff overlook- ing one of the magnificent bays of the Hudson, and facing upon a creek that runs up through a most lovely section of country, the same «reek being a great resort for sailing parties of ladies and gentlemen. | The veiled girl moved along through the vil- jage and passed to the town limits, when she ‘yranched off and turned down a lane leading to @ remote part of the creek. Arrived at the water's edge she entered a boat and pyiled along ap the creek for about half a mile, when she ran the boat in-shore and took up a position ander a big elm-tree. It was a remote and lonely place, there being mc residence within half a mile, and a spot far distant from the village, and unlikely to be vis- ited at such an hour, except by some who, like the veiled lady, went to keep atryst; at least our hero concluded that the latter was the mo- tive ef her errand, and later developments con. firmed his suspicion. Tom Hawk followed along the shore, watch- ing the tair oarswoman’ in the boat, and was net far away when she landed and took up het position under the great tree. Ten minutes passed when the detective heard a step, and he was ccmpelled to dart aside and throw himself prone upon the ground to escape observation. A young man passed near him; the latter was handsomely dressed in a light flannel sum- mer suit, and as he passed, the detective secured a good view of his features. {he young man was certainly very handsome and stylish-looking: his face was a refined one, and, as the detective glancéd, a cold chill cur dled around his heart, and his lips unconsciously uttered the words: ‘< T fear the father is right, after all !”’ The young man went direct to the great elm- tree, and, as he approached the girl, he sought ‘to clasp her 1n his arms and imprint a kiss upon the lovely brow, but the detective, who had stolen forward, saw her recoil and throw up her hands in a warning manner. The ygung man exclaimed in a reproachful tone: ‘‘What is the matter, Emmie? why do you wave me away from yeu?”’ In a sad tone she answered: ‘Oharlie, this is our last meeting upon 4 ‘ } earth! Mark well my words! The last link is troken that bound me to you, and after fo- night you and | must be strangers to each cther forever !”’ , ‘‘Nonsense, Emmie! What has come over you?” ‘1 am suiprised that you ask me that ques- tion after what has occurred within the jast tew days !’’ ‘*My dear girl, what has occurred within the last few days that is so dreadful?’’ ‘‘ Charlie, need I repeat?’’ ‘* Yes; tell me all!’’ ‘‘-You remember that by accident 1 learned that you had associated yourselt with evil men? You remember I met you on the Wil- low Road, that there I told you all I had learned! You remember how we parted, and | fell fainting to the ground, only to be found by the man who was pursuipg you as a common criminal! !”’ ‘¢ Tt’s all a mistake, my dear girl!”’ ‘* A mistake!”’ ‘* Yes, a mistake!”’ ‘‘1s it a mistake that 1 see you standing %e- | fore me now!’’ ‘‘ Litsten, Emmie, and 1 will tell yon all! It is only a joke 1 am playing on the old man to force him to recede from the position he has taken toward you and me. You must not think for a mpment that I am really a burg- lar!”’ The detective had taken up a position whence he could overhear every word that passed, and a sad conviction was forcing itselt upon his mind, when a remark made by the beautiful girl again aroused a certain bright hope in his mind. ‘‘ Charlie,’’ said the girl, ‘* it is strange how you have changed in three months; the tones of your voice are different: your manners are different. Did 1 not stand and gaze on your face 1 would think you were another person al- together.” *' Nonsense, girl; 1 am only hecoming more of a man, that is all; 1 am the same Charlie.’’ ‘‘You do not seem [ike the same brave, bright, honorable, Charles Pladwell who rescued me from the treacherous waters when | was nearly drowned.’’ °° We will not talk about that now, Emmie. L love you and I will not give you up. I will admit that my method for bringing father round is a failure. Ale recognized me the other night and will never forgive me. ”’ ‘Oh, Charlie, how can you recur to the ter- rible events of that night? Had it not been for me ycu would stand to-day the murderer of your own father, Horrors! whut a memory! No, no, 1 can never forget nor forgive! ‘To- night is our last meeting! My life is blasted, and 1 pray you go away to some foreign Jand and reform; but you must never seek to see me again!’’ ‘« Nonsense, Emmie, I can not, | will not give you up; this night you must fly with me!”’ ‘‘ Charlie, what are you saying?” ‘ lam saying just what 1 mean; 1’ll wait no longer. You must, you shall be my wife this very night! I have all the arrangements made to take you to New York. Once my wife, and 1 set out to hecome a better man, to become the Charlie l was when I snatched you fiom the tiver!’’ ‘‘ Oh, Charlie! what is your purpose?” ‘‘T propose that you shall save me against myself.’’ | ‘“ And become the wife of the man who, but for my intervening hand, would have become the murderer of his own father?”’ ‘“No, no! I would not have shot him; the discharge of the pistol was an accident; but tell me, Emmie, how was it that you were present there?”’ | ‘*] will tell you. I suspected that your fa- ther’s house was to become the object of attack, and 1 went there intending to warn you at the last moment to refrain from so horrible a deed. While in the house I ran across the man who was there to thwart ycur scheme, and in the darkness I mistook him for one of your companions. 1 warned him, thinking it was your friend, thut the intended robbery was dis- covered, and at the last moment learned my mistake, when 1 sped away and concealed my- self, still determined to warn you. 1 walked around the house, and had about concluded you were not coming that night, when I dis- covered that you had entered the house. It was too late to warn you, but 1 was determined to save you even at the ast moment, if possible, and 1 zan into the library just at the instant your father made the terrible discovery that the burglar was his own son! What occurred after, Charlie, you know, and ] wish I had died ete the Knowledge came to me?”’ CHAPTER All. ‘“ ware, you say a change has come over me, but 1 can say it is you over whom the change has come; you are growing so particu- | Jar'and scrupulous!”’ | ‘There is no change in me, Charlie, and your words sound strange; you who but a short time ago were the soul of honor, you who protested you would not wed me and make me a depend- ent on your father’s bounty. I remember now the bright gleam in your eyes as you said you would go forth and win a place for us in the world: and now Charlie, within a few brief months how al! has changed; nothing remains but your features; even the expression of face is changed; your voice, your mode of thought, the gleam in your eyes, your principles, all, all have changed; and this wonderful] change has set me to thinking, and a strange suspicion has crept into my mind. 1 speak frankly; I will not conceal the truth.”’ Quickly, and in an alarmed tone, the young man exclaimed: | ‘*A strange suspicion has crept into your mind, Emmie?’’ The detective stood by and noted the words | of both. ‘‘ Yes, a strange suspicion.”’ ‘© Some one has whispered suspicions in your ear then, Emmie?’’ ‘‘ No, not a living soul.”’ ‘‘ And what do you suspect?”’ ‘*T suspect that you deceived me ia the first place. ”’ ‘+ You suspect that I deceived you in the first place?’’ repeated the young man in a nervous + tone, ‘* Yes.’’ ‘* How?’’ ‘*Tt can not be that this change in your char- acter has taken place in three short months. It is not possible!’’ ‘What would you imply?” ‘That you wore a mask.”’ ‘‘ Explain!’ said the young man, in Com-. manding tones. ‘©T mean that you must have heen bad before I knew you, that you pretended to be the nobis character I once believed you to be; but in truth all the time you were at heart as you ap- pear now!”’ ‘‘ That is a terrible accusation, Emmie.”’ ‘It is my firm conviction, Charlie. I came here to meet you to-night, resolved to speak plainly!’’ ~ ‘Yes, you are speaking very plainly,’’ said the young mon, in a bitter tone. ‘"T repeat,’’ she continued, ‘‘ it is impossible that you could have been transformed in a few brief months from a noble, honorable young man into a common burglar, a cruel monster, capable of aiming a weapon at the heart of his | cwn father.”’ : A moment’s silence followed the fair girl’s impassioned words, but at length the young man asked: | ‘‘ Emmie, did you ever lcve me?”’ ‘* Did Ll ever iove you? No woman ever loved man with greater intensity than | loved you.”’ ‘* And do you Jove me now?’”” ‘‘Do not force an answer to this last ques- tion,’’ she replied. ‘‘ Yes. 1 must have an answer.’’ ‘‘“] pray ycu let my answel remain un- spoken. ’’ , ‘‘ No, Emmie, you must answer me,”’ ‘‘ When in your presence 1 am under the chain of the old love; this comes of my week- ness as 2 Woman; but when I am alone, with nothing but your monstrous career staring me in the tace, 1 despise you!”’ ‘‘ Listen to me, Emmie; you wrong me.’’ .** No, 1 do not wrong you. 1 can not wrong the man whe could act as you have acted,”’ ‘‘ Listen to me. I pray you become my wife; fly with me and reform me; make me again. what I wus when first we met.’’ 7 ‘Were you to reform a thousand times > would never become your wife. Never could the terrible facts be blotted from my recollec- tion. 1 could never forget what you were, of what it is possible you have become. No, na we must never meet again on earth!’ ‘* And this is your decision?”’ Ne