The Secret Shot; Or, The Rivals Of Misty Mount — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

14 THE SECRET SHOT. Gleason is the tool we must use. He loves the girl; but he is naturally wicked, and the knowledge that she loves: him not has made him moody and desperate She shall be his wife by force. Leave me to deal with him, The time is not quite ripe. But be thou ready when the moment comes ; and, in the mean time, loiter around the Gwins as of old, and learn what thou canst. I shall await thee here, at this hour, every night, until the mine is sprung. Farewell! I must now depart.” But the chieftain clasped her once again before she went; when the quadroon moved hastily up the lawn. The savage watched her figure till it was lost in the trees; and, eyen then, he’still stood motionless for many moments, as if buried in profound meditation. Who may say.-what passed in that dusky bosom during those somber moments? Was the contest for the sovereignty of his soul resumed? or had the victory been decisive and absolute? Did his thoughts dance _ backward through the years again to the little bright-haired Ida whose innocence and purity had fanned the angel flame within his breast ? or did he dwell passionately on the. fierce, lustrous being whose burning kiss yet lingered on his lips, like the taste of an elixir of evil? Wecan not tell. But, whatever his thoughts, his brow was knitted into iron lines; and he seemed to hav® grown older—much older. Presently he drew his blanket around him, and glided away into the gloom with a noiseless step. —_——--- --—- CHAPTER IV.. Father and Son. “Oh woe is. it, when mertal man For man’s destruction OR ceoe wa snare! The vengeance, which with time b egan, Shali overtake him here or there.’ Wuen Heartstead Gleason had led his father into a small chamber, which appeared like a study, in an upper story of the dis- mal mansion, and had locked the door care- fully, he threw himself at full length on a lounge, while his father drew up a chair, first, however, lighting a rusty iron lamp, from which a feeble glimmer was emitted. “ What is your object in returning home ?” asked the old man. “Do you not know your peril ?” “Yes, and I scorn it,” was the gloomy reply. If affection existed between them, it must have been a singular attachment. Father and son, long separated from each other; and yet no word of greeting passed between them, hardly a kind glance eyen. “You have heard the news?” inquired Heartstead. | *“ Yes—yes!” replied the old man, pet- tishly, thinking of the death of the younger Gwin. “Good enough news, I .am sure; but —” “Good news!’ exclaimed the other, with a shocked expression. ‘“ Well, it may seem so to you; but, as for me, the ties of blood are still strong.” “Pshaw! what ties of bleed are you speaking of ?” “Thought you had heard the news |” “What news ?” “That brother Charles is no more.” The sudden anguish that wreathed the old man’s wrinkled face would have been a glad study for Parrhasius. “ Charlie—my little Charlie dead!’ he murmured, in dismay. He bowed his face in his hands, and humanity vindicated her sway in a flood of tears. -He rocked him- self to and fro dismally for a few moments before he regained his composure. “ He died bravely, and for the king,” said Heartstead. “-When—how ?” “ Yesterday—where the upper road strikes into the mountains. Colonel Ferguson sent a dozen of us up to intercept a certain Col- onel Cleayeland, who was riding alone and bearing dispatches from the north. Curse him! He burst through our ambush, knocked down three or four of us, and escaped; not, however, without leaying a pistol-bullet in poor Charlie’s. head,” “ Cleaveland—Cleaveland! I know the name—a Northern rough-rider, and a yil- lainous Rebel. Why, he passed through the valley this: afternoon, and stopped at Misty Mount, on his way to Valleyten.” “Then he saw Ida ?” “Very probably ; but she has something else to think of than a handsome colonel. Of course you’ve heard of Walter Gwin’s death ?” “No. You astonish me !” “Tt is true. Cleaveland had not been gone ten minutes before the young viper was shot dead by some one concealed in a thicket close at hand.” “A dastard shot !” “But say a lucky one, also. Do you not see—” ; COMnmiclOOOKSs6©