Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 570 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

the meéeahing of the word ‘since I have’ met Horace. “In telling him that he was my ri idol, I fear | implied a falsehood, for 1 had been en- ‘gaged to Kent Kingdon, and, but that he broke wich me i might have one day been his wife. ** Jeaven forbid! for he is a dangerous man, ove faithless alike to man and woman. ‘* My pride would not let me tell Horace that we had been engaged and that Kingdon broke ic, for I fear he would have given me up, know- ing what a bad character Kent Kingdon has, or he might have resented it, “Ah, me! somehow I feel awful blue about E this little deceit I have practiced, and I will tell Horace all when next he comes.” The speaker was a handsome girl, one of a strange, Italian beauty, with eyes that could - melt in tenderness, or flash with anger. Her face was a strange one, each featnre being pronounced, and it was handsome rather than beautiful, The form was above the medium hight, slénder, shapély and every movement graceful. She was well dressed, and about her were re- fined surroundings, The father of this maiden had been an artist, who had married a beautifal Italian girl, who was sitting as his model while he was prosecut- ing his studies in Rome. He had brought his Italian wife back to America with him and settled in the old New England town that had-been bis birthplace, he cold winters of New England, after his long stay in Italy, had broken down his health, and the second year after his return he died, his wife following him to the grave a year after, and leaving two children, a son and daughter, to the guardianship of a brother of her hus- band. The son, Carter Cameron entered West Point asacadet, when he grew old enough, and the daughter Camille, finished her education at a fashionable boarding-shool and came back to the ho.ne of her guardian, to turn the heads. of the students of the college in the town, with her handsome face and exquisite form, Among her admirers was one from Texas, the son of arick cattle-king there, and a dashing fellow, handsome as an Adonis, brilliant, and dangerous. He had fairly fascinated Camille Cameron at sight, and he had been at once drawn toward er. But’ Kent Kingdon wishing his own way, could not tolerate ber jealousy, and they hear no one ever having known that they been engaged. i here came as a student to the college Horace Manners, a young man of noble nature, fine- looking and considered a good catch. It seemed to be a case of love at first sight, between the two, Horace Manners and Camille Cameron, and it was because she had deceived him about her secret engagement to Kent King- don, that she was bewailing having done so in the words that open this chapter. ‘‘T will tell him all to-morrow,” she said, and then she thought the cloud would lift from her heart. But it did not, for its shadow still lay there, Tbat night Horace Manners did not come to ished breakfast, when the servant told her a gentleman wished to see her, She swept into the parlor, looking very lovely in her wrapper, and was confronted by a student from the college whom she knew but slightly. He bowed low, and the expression upon his face caused her to feel that some evil had hap- ned. arr Miss Cameron, it pains me to be the bearer of had news.” “ Speak, Mr. Walpole, and tell me what has bas argc er words were perfectly calm, though her face became suddenly pale. ‘‘T am sorry to tell you that Mr. Horace Man- ners bas been seriously wounded in a duel.” ‘Horace Manners wounded in a duel?” she repeated. ‘Yes, Miss Cameron,” _ $* When was this duel fought?” ‘ Last night, in the grove on the river.” ‘‘ Who was Mr. Manners’s adversary?” “ Kent Kingdon.” oy sé Ah ? ‘i In ste of aot the word was wrung from her like a cry of pain. ‘Who were the seconds?” ¢ <eeece LLLLAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLALLLL nD _—_—_———_ ey s see her, and the next morning she had just fin- |. Camille, the Card Queen. ‘‘ Yes, I fear fatally, for the sword pierced his side in the vicinity of the heart.” She bowed her head impatiently, as though to hide her feelings, and then said: ‘‘ And the cause of this duel, Mr. Walpole?” ‘‘Mr. Kingdon had a private album, which poor Manners go. hold of, and in it he saw your photograph, and beneath it a number, Thirteen, and some slighting lines, written by Kent King- don, ‘** Go on, sir,” and the voice was unmoved. ‘‘ Manners resented it, and said that you had never given the photograph to Kingdon, words followed, the lie» was passed, and, heated with wine, for we were all taking supper with King- don at his rooms, we adjourned to the woods, and, in the moonlight the duel was fought. ** We hoped Kingdon would disarm Manners, and thus end it; but he was determined to kill him, and I fear succeeded.” ‘‘T thank you, Mr. Walpole, and permit me to say, that, as the betrothed wife of Horace Manners, I will at once seek him. ‘* May I ask about Kent Kingdon?” ‘* He has gone,” ‘‘ Was he allowed to go, after bis guilty act?” ‘‘Tt was thought best that he should take to flight, Miss Cameron,” “Flight will not save him from the hang- man’s grip, if Horace Manners dies,” and in uttering the words the calm of the woman was broken, and her fierce words Henry Walpole had cause to remember long after. CHAPTER II. CAMILLE’S OATH, Kent Kinepon, the mau who had slain Hor- ace Manners in his duel, escaped the conse- quences of his deed, while the victim was laid away to rest in the little churchyard. There were those who beheld Camille Cam- eron at the bedside of Horace Manners, ere he died, and who saw her at the grave, when his coffin was forever shut out from her sight, that said she bad no heart, and had simply meant to marry the young man for his money. But one day the father of Horace Manners appeared in the town, and, after hearing the whole story from Henry Walpole, he sought the home of the maiden who had been engaged to his son. ‘‘ Miss Cameron,” he said, earnestly, ‘‘I had but two children, Horace and my daughter Mabel, now a young girl, ‘‘ This blow has fallen most heavily upon me, for, through indorsing for friends, my fortune has been swept away. ‘‘T have a profession, for [ am a physician, and, with the little money I have left, we are going to the far West. ‘There I shall homestead a place and go to practicing medicine, trying to build up my fallen fortunes, and there, my dear Miss Cam- eron, hit will ever find a welcome if you wish to make your home with us.” For the first time since Henry Walpole bad told her of the duel, the lips of Camille Cameron quivered. She did not speak at first, for she could not command her emotion; but, after a while, she aid: ‘‘ Doctor Manners, from my heart I thank you, and I deeply feel for you in your deep sor- row and unfortunate troubles; but I will re- main here for the present, until I can decide upon my future. ‘Your son was all in all to me, and he was the only man f ever loved. | ‘Fascinated, as it were, by Kent Kingdon, I received his attentions, and, urged by my guardians, I became engaged to him. ‘* The photograph he had of mine I did not give him, but he took it to paint for me, as he is an artist, and never returned it. ‘ Kindwing of one of his escapades I upbraided him, and, calling mea jealous fool he left me, and our eugagement ended. ‘‘fam not rich, but I have asmall income, and so I will not want; but I shall leave here, for my guardians are constantly hunting catches for me in a matrimonial way,” Thus they parted, and while Doctor Manners returned West, and, with his wife and daughter sought a home upon the far frontier, Camille Cameron remained at her old home. In vain did her guardian and his wife try to po her from her indifference to all about er. She refused to receive company, kept to her- The result was a surprise to her, and he came from the city. Some property owned’ by her father, sand ee to be of little value, had suddenly de- veloped into a large fortune, There was a large cash ‘price offered for it, and having seen Cadet Carter Cameron at West Point, and gotten his viewS upon the subject, the lawyer decided to sell it. This he did, upon his return to4he city, and Camille’s share, put into bonds, was held subjeet to her. demand, | It was a large sum for e young girl tocontrol, and her guardian and others sought the manage- meutand investmentof it, butshe was firm in ber refusal, and evidently was bound to have things her own way; so she placed the money in a bank in the city. Then a change.seemed to come over the beau- tiful girl, for she was no longer moody, but went about like one who bad a purpose in life, though she was always the same cold, seemingly heartless creature, One afternoon she went, as was ber wont, to the cemetery. She had placed over the grave of Horace Manners a hancsome marble monument, with this inscription upon it: ‘SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF HORACE MANNERS. Killed in a duel, May ist, 18—, by the hand of Kent KINGDON. Soms day the guilty man will meet_his just reward,” Kneeling by the side of this, the tomb of her lover, Camille raised her hands above ber, and | with’white, cold face, firm, stern voice, uttered the words: ‘*Horace Manners, here at thy grave, before | high Heaven, I vow to be an avenging Nemesis upon the track of thy murderer, and as I keep this oath, may God be merciful unto me.” Then rising from her knees, just as the sun had set and the moon was rising over the bill- tops, she retraced her way bomeward., he next morning Camille Cameron was miss- ing. Bhie had mysteriously home, in the dead of night, and all manner cf mT i rr re disappeared from her surmises were made as regarded her fate. At last the belief became general that she bad not been the heartless woman many had sup- posed, but had, in her hidden grief, gone to the river and taken her own life, thus to end her sorrows in the oblivion of death, Asa strong chain of evidence to this theory, she had taking nothing with her from her home, excepting a heavy wrap, which had been found upon the river-bank; but, worst of all to her guardians, not a clew, not aslip of paper had she left as to where she had deposited her bonds, and the grief at their loss was fully equal to the = they felt at the beautiful girl’s untimely end, CHAPTER Iii, | ON THE OVERLAND, 3 “Tam in hard luck, indeed, but I must not go under, for there is plenty of gold in the world for those who work for it.” One would have thought that the one who uttered these words meant to live an honest life of toil, to work out of misfortune which seemed to bave fallen upon him. He was seated in front of a stage station on the Overland, a desolate place in the mountains, waiting for the coming of the ccach. He had arrived there an hour before, bartered with the station agent for a fair price for his horse, saddle and bridle, and the money he had thus’received was all that he had in the world. The man was ‘Kent Kingdon, the slayer of Horace Manners in a duel. — | He was a fugitive from justice, hiding awa upon the border, and dreading to be taken bac East for trial. Though the son of # man who had been a rich cattle-king in Texas, his father had lost his for- tune at the time that Kent Kmegdon became a fugitive, } His second, Hugh Lawton, had sold out the elegant furniture and many things of value in his rvoms at college, and had gent him the money to a miuing-camp West, addressed to Donald King, for he had feared to keep his own ’ r : fw ’ “*] served Mr, Manners, and Hugh Lawton | self and*‘seemed to be constantly in deepest | name... at, | acted for Kingdon.” meditation. _ In gambling and dissipation the money bad or bs And be was dangerously wounded, you| “One daya lawyer called at her home and | been squandered, and at last Kent Kingdon had 7 say?” asked for an interview with her. realized that he was throwing his life away. ie as h~ a Dy a th ae \ * oe “7 il ~~ BY \ =