Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1152 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

eae a 2 Br avr Ten. Boe . . a, F) on > ‘ ; 7 ‘ £ a: Oa . af fe dé} a x 4 . a * ___ J - + ss * } - Par > : "= 10 lieve that yu had gone off in some mental aber- ration, and a number of the best detectives were put Pen your track. They learned nothing of what had become of you, and I came to the con- clusion that you were dead in the Thames, ‘* Not the slightest suspicion of the true cause of your absence had come tome. My marriage was a secret from my friends for the simple reason that I lacked a few months of reaching my majority, and was not yet legally my own master, A few of, my intimate friends were in the secret, aml one evening, when McCabe was rather the worse for the wine he had drank, he said something that roused the most dreadful suspicion in my mind. I could not get much ont ot him, but enough to satisfy me that you were hiding somewhere, under tho belief that I had done you some great wrong. “The few words that I got from him were uttered accidentally. When he was himself, [ taxed him with it, but he had no recollection of what he hag said, and denied all knowledge of ouin themost solemn manner. Nevertheless his appearance convinced me of his guilt, and I employed a man to watch. ‘“MeCabe did not know at this time whither you had gone, but he had a suspicion, and he discovered it at last, and he followed you. When my man found that he had embarked for North Ainerica in one of the Hudson Bay Com- any ships, he became satisfied that you had Bat the sane some weeks before. ‘‘ When he told me this, I remembered you had an uncle who was the captain of one of their vessels, and there could no longer be any doubt of the direction you had taken. Prudence would heave suggested that I wait until his return, and learn the truth from him, but that would have necessitated a delay of several months, whicb would have driven me mad, so [ set sail in the very next vessel that left for this country. ‘‘We encountered the ‘ Albatross’ as we en- tered Baffin’s Bay, and I weat on deck and saw your uncle. He told me Ais lips were sealed, and refused to answer me any questions abt all, even after I had made him understand that you had been deceived, ‘*T had no doubt at all that you were at Fort Churchill, but I did hope to gain some particu- lars of him; I did not, and so we separated. ‘““While entering Hudson’s Bay, we were caught in a tempest and wrecked. We lived on that barren coast for several months, and then were picked up and carried to Ungava. It was then a long time before I could get across to Fort Churchill. ‘*T sueceeded at last—but when I reached the lace, a year and more had passed since you left ndon. ‘* At Fort Churchill I learned that you had peen there, and that a child had been born. You had recetved the kindest treatment, but when the short, beautiful summer came, you had escaped and fled no one knew whither. ‘** McCabe was dead; the miserable man had followed you to Fort Churchill, but one day, when hunting near the fort, he got caught in a anow-storm, and perished within a hundred yards of the gate of the fort. “Then I set out to hunt for you. For two ears I never ceased my search, excopt for a ew hours, when exhausted rature compelled me to do so, ‘The end of it all was that I learned nothing at all of you, and I agreed with Mackintosh who knew my secret, that you and your child had perished somewhere in the wilderness. He wished me to return to England, as he pet the charge would benefit me; life had now lost its charms for me, and I was willing to die here. I refused to £0, and engaged as an ordinary Sure under him. “Thus I have been employed ever since. Once or twice during the past five years I heard of the Phantom Princess, but no suspicions of her identity cams to me until within the past few days. This isthe first time 1 ever accom- panied Mackintosh to this village, and when I gaw you, I thought it barely possible that you might be my long-lost wife, You know what has followed.” ~- During this narration, Myra had remained standing in the same immovable, statue-like po- sition, while Bandman sat upon the pile of skins, talking as though he were ussing some ordi- business matter. He now rose to his feet and advanced nearer. “That you may not doubt my word, I have always carried the proof with me.” With which he drew a package from his inner witnessed, and signed by Rev. Mr. Dumfries who had officiated in the capacity of minister a the time. All thisshe saw. Then that wild, fierce light, born of long suffering and hate, died out, and, in its stead, came a deadly pallor to the face— the pallor of despair. A cry bubbled up from her lips like that of a mother over her lost dar- ling. Her arm, outstretched, moved to and fro as if to dissolve some horrid vision, and her staring eyes glared in their intense gaze on va- cancy, as she wailed: ‘‘Yoomed—doomed! and by my act! Oh! Hugh—darling Hugh! My hand has brought hia to this—nvy hand!” she sobbed, hoiding out before her that beautiful white hand. ‘* He never wronged me—he loved me through all these dreadful years—he sought me out in these dreadful wilds to say that he loved me, and Ilured him on—on to the Death Lodge— to the Death Lodge /—I, his wife!” The hand moved in the air again; then she stood like one frozen in her sorrow, still as the dead, fora moment only, then dropped to the ground as one dead indeed. | Her husband sprung toward her and lifted her head upon his lap. Fondly he kissed the lips again and again, pressed the head to his breast, and while his eyes rained tears, murmured: “My wife—my own darling wife—united again, after all these long, crucl years, Myra, my own—my dearest, Poor, deceived Myra; forgive all, and with death staring me in the face, I plead for your love.” Opening her eyes, she looked ycarningly at him for a moment, and then reaching up her arms, closed them about his neck, ‘* My husband!” Their hearts were too full to speak further, and for several minutes they could only mingle their tears. Then they sat side by side and talked for a few moments, when Myra said: ‘You are condemned to death, dearest Hugh; there is no escape for you, but I will die with you; that at least shall be my expiation. . Oh the wrong I havedone! Alas, that, now that I have found out what life is, it should be so soon ended !” ‘Perhaps there is happiness yet for us; you are free tomove about without question; go and see Nick Whiffles.” ** T will do so at once!” she exclaimed, spring- ing to her feet. ‘* He shall save you—save you, Hugh! God has sent him to this wilderness for this work—to save you, my husband!” CHAPTER XIII A JUVENILE WOOING. THE next morning after the meeting of Miona and Ned Hazel, the lad went early to the trap that had been visited by her. He found a squealing beaver in it, but there was no kind hand to set it freo. He let it ery for a while in the hope of drawing his visitor to the spot. But, although he waited some time, she came not, and he was compelled to kill and carry it home, The same thing took place on the second morning, but the third saw his ardent wishes gratified. There was no beaver in the trap, and he stood feeling as grieved and disappointed as a young gentleman could well feel whose dearest hopes had been blasted, and who was ready to lio down and die.in despair. While in this miserable mood, he raised his eyes and saw two persons standing before him. ne was the Phantom Princess, and the other was Miona, her daughter. They were standing side by side, neither dressed in white, but bot in the brilliantly colored dress of the Blackfoot squaws who stood high in the graces of their warrior husbands. Ned blushed, and saluted them with natural Han Myra said: ‘‘T am looking for Nick Whiffles; is he at home?” ‘* He was there an hour , when I left; -he is cleaning up his gun, so if you want to see him, you will.find him there. [ will show you ou to do it,” said she, the way.” ‘‘T know the way there myself. I **No; Ido not wish interposing. only wanted to make certain of finding him,” ‘Tam sure he is there; it is all of two miles distant, and you had better let me go with you,” said Ned, who did not like the idea of losing the companionship of the girl, now that she had been so long coming. **T woul refer that you should remain es Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. or ee ee al “No, but as I shall leawe Miona here until I return, and, as she says you and she are ac- quainted, I had Fe Re that you would be will- ing to remain and keep her company.” ‘Oh! Pll do that!” exclaimed Ned, his face page| with delight. ‘‘Il have my gun with me, an I will take the best of care of her.” “Don’t be gone too long,” said the young maiden, as her mother started to move away. ‘** 1 will be.back by noon,” she replied, as she kissed her good-by, and speedily venished in the orest, ‘Ll only wish it was night,” thought Ned, as he realized that he was along with the one of whom he had been dreaming day and night, ever since he had first met her. But he felt certain of several howrs with her, and a sense of pleasurable delight came over him, and he suspected that Miona was quite wilting to spend that time in his company. Innocent and pure-minded as was Miona, and ignorant, too, of the great emotion of love, she was artless and unembarrassed. Ned, despite his backwoods training, was rupees polite, his genuine goodness of heart resembling, in a great measure, the kind nature of Nick Whiffles, ‘*T am so two unconsciously walked away in the direc- tion of the river. ‘Why, what’s the matter with her?’ ‘Something dreadful—she would not tell me what—but she has done paias but cry and pray ever since we started from home. saw the Indians scowl at her, and several of them seem to be angry about something; but she cries so much that I have been crying too.” And her pretty eyes filled with tears, while Ned wanted to comfort her, and wasn’t exactly certain how it should be done. **T didn’t see that any thing snuch was, the matter with her,” he iid: “* Sho wasn’t crying when she went by here.” ‘‘ Because she has wept so much that she ean- not, fam glad Nick Whiffies is at home, for if she had been disappointed in seeing him, 1 don't know what she would have done.” “If Nick can do any thing in the world for her, he’ll do it; I know Nick. ‘“T can’t understand how he is to help her,” continued Miona, with a look of great perplexi- ty; ‘‘for she has a good many friends among the Indians, and she is considercda sort of queen among them, But I think it must have some- thing to do with that white man the Indians have in the Death Lodge.” ** Who is he?’ asked the astonished Ned. ‘‘ Somebody followed us in a canoe, and the Blackfeet caught him, and I suppose they will put him to death, as they have a good many others. She keeps talking about somebody named Hugh; do you know anybody by that name?” Ned did not, although, had she said Bandman, he would have recognized it. ‘*‘Well,” added Miona, with a sigh, “‘I sup- pose she will tell me some day. ere we are at the bank of the river, and yonder is my ca- noe,’ ** Let us go look at it.” ‘You can ride in it if you choose.” The boat, of a natural dusky bark color, la but a short distance away, and the two made their way to it. ‘Wehave a long time to wait; let us cross over to the other side and explore it,” said the girl, stepping lightly into it. Ned was only too happy to cursion, s0 he followed her an oars. “Which way shall we go?” he asked, for- getting that she had just told him the diree- tion. ** Across, I said; or; if you wish it, you can goup or down, but we mustn’t be away when mother returns.” Ned handled the oar with no little skill, and he sent the light canoe skimming swiftly over the river, which at this partic place was quite broad. Miona sat in the prow of the boat, as though she was mistress of the situation, Ler large, lus- trous eyes fixed upon Ned Hazel, who, blushing deeply, plied the paqale with all the grace of which he was capable, for mother,” said the girl, as the oin in the ex- took up the Touching the opposite bank, the girl sprun lightly out, and he followed her, pausing ional enough to draw the canoe up out of the way of the current. here,” she said, quite earn ly. ‘I wish to see The boy carried his rifle with him, as was bis him on very particular busimess, and wish no | invariable custom, and he only wished that Naps et, pie enya to her. She took ‘ it mec y 0 it, one élse near.’ some huge bear or other animal would eross She read it and saw that it was ** You don’t SUPPoKE I would stay near, while | their sath, that he might show the beautiful a legal certificate of you were talking?’ said the lad, reproachfully. prat , : marriage, properly ng maiden at his side how much he was . - — “ _— __ ~~ a = * = - r se <—* BAS = St a ere c ees > “ » ae * Son =h, Se te ee - ‘a — P "> > > comicboo (S.CC - 3 “ , > - 3 > + . epee. eee ai = eo “Se 7 < = -L- = . 7 . * ~ _, Se a ~- 4 ~ a : = ~ ee at ie + fl - > hee * 10% we a - - oP, 2k £2 Oe Io 7. « ' { * ° Zz Bp an 5A *,. , ©.