Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 89 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. sn + em aaa ae ae ———- = of the dead, not even a cerement or a shroud was to be seen! *‘In with it, boys! Somebody has been here before us!” exclaimed the doctor. There was something about this so remarkable that Jim could not fathom it, though his dis- gust was lessened when he found the casket con- tained nothing. The most plausible theory, certainly, was that somo grave-robbers had been there before them, though of that there was no evidence. With the utmost rapidity the coffin was once more lowered into the grave and the earth shoveled over it. Scarcely was the operation completed than a man’s form was seen.coming up the path. “The watchman!” whispered Sam Sadrake, dropping hisspade. ‘Run, boys! Step lively!” Every one took to his heels, except Jim, who started, but fell over the rope which had been used in raising the coffin. Hire he could rise a strong hand was placed on his shoulder. ** Let me go!” he said, ‘* or it will be the worse for you!” He drew a pistol, with which he intended to sng the watchman, if he did not loosen his old. It would have been utter ruination to him, if it got about that ho had been caught in the act of desecrating his father’s last resting-place. ‘*By heaven I'll fire if you hinder me!” he cried. He looked up to get a good shot at the watch- a when he beheld Mr. Dimity bending over There was no mistaking that severely calm, sad face, whose eyes seemed to burn into him, like coals of fire. It was too much, to be confronted b ed father, at such a time and in such a place. ith a sharp cry of agony, such as only those mentally afflicted can utter in their hopeless despair, he fell upon the ground and his senses left him. There could be no doubt now, that he was haunted by a phantom father! Three times had he seen the dread apparition, and no doctor could make him believe that he was the victim of a hallucination. his sup- CHAPTER X. EENAS IN THE TOILS. WE must now return to the crafty Eenas Bel- shazzar, whom we have notseen since he went to convert the stolen diamonds into money. The receiver with whom he was in the habit of doing business, lived in a small, obscure street near the river, where he ostensibly kept a junk- shop. It was well known to thieves that they could dispose of any kind of plunder to this man, who was in partnership with a brother in A insterdam, and promptly shipped all goods to Holland, so that they could not be traced by the police of New York. Belshazzar did not notice that he was closely followed by two men, who shadowed him from the time he left the hotel. ; Had ho known that his footsteps were dogged, he woulln’t have tripped along so blithely, whistling as he went for want of thought. He reached the junk-store, disposed of the diamonds for one-third of their value, received the money and was on his return, when he was seized on either side by the two men who had been watching him. ‘‘One word and you are a dead man!” said one. “Struggle!” exclaimed the other, “and Ill stab you to the heart.” Eenuas was a terrible coward, and after this intimation he did not dare to offer any resist- ance. The outrage occurred in broad daylight, and several people were moving up and down the street. A policeman hove in sight and the Gipsy’s spirits revived. ‘* Help!” he cried. “What are you doing with this man?’ asked the officer. “‘ He’s a deserter from our yacht, the Firefly,” was the reply, ‘and as we found him drunk in a saloon, we’re bringing him back.” ‘“Tt’s a lie!” them!” ‘Take him along!” exclaimed the policeman, who did not see the necessity for interfering. The Gipsy was about to speak again, when one of his captors gave him a brutal kick with his knee in the small of his back which took his breath away, and quite incapacitated him from further talking. said “Eenas; ‘*T don’t know At the end of the street was the Hudson river and a boat was moored to the dock. Into this Eenas was unceremoniously bundled, one man keeping guard over him, by placing his foot on his breast, as he lay at the bottom of the boat, while the other rowed. They had some distance to go, for they crossed the bay and made for Staten Island, off which several yachts were riding at anchor. One, nared the Firefly, belonged to the Mar- uis Garcia, and it was by his orders that the Gipsy had been kidnapped and brought down the bay. At the time of the captive’s arrival, the Mar- quis, who had been lunching at the club-house, was on -board and the prisoner was at once brought before him in the cabin. No sooner did Belshazzar see that he was ac- tually in the power of the man he had wronged so deeply than his limbs trembled so violently that they threatened to give way under him. ‘‘So we meet again, my fine fellow!” cried the marquis. ‘‘I always believed we should, and I am prepured to keep my oath.” Eenas mustered up courage enough to speak. ‘What good willit do you to take my life? The law will avenge me!” he exclaimed. ‘You robbed me of all that 1 cared for in this worid—my wife. I will take from you all that you care for—your life,” was the stern and uncompromising rejoinder. The marquis was the judge—the sumptuously- furnished cabin, the court—Eenas, the prison- er—the two sailors, the police—it only remained to send for the executioner. The marquis touched a silver bell, whose tink- ling had scarce died away, when a tall Spaniard entered. ‘‘Quevada,” exclaimed the marquis, ‘‘ did you rig up that scaffolding in the hold?’ ‘ Yes,” replied Quevada, who was the captain of the yacht and a man thoroughly devoted to his employer’s interests, as were all the crew. ‘Tt is raised a few feet above the bilge-water. I have a chain and a padlock.” ‘‘Confine this man there, without food or drink. To-morrow morning up anchor and set sail. When you are a sale distance outside Sandy Hook, string him up to the yard-arm; hang him as you would a dug, and after tying a hundred weight of iron to his feet, throw his worthless carcass into the sea.” ‘* Si, sevior /” replied the captain, with a grim smile. At this terrible sentence, the Gipsy’s features worked convulsively, and he blanched under his swarthy skin, Sinking on his knees, he held up his hands in supplication, and in piteous tones exclaimed: ‘* Mercy! mercy !” “You have none to expect from me,” replied the Marquis Garcia. “Oh! spare me, as you hope for salvatign hereafter !” ‘“ Away with him! You have my orders, cap- tain!” “ Ay, ay, sir!” The shadow of death seemed to fall upon Bel- shazzar, who shrunk into himself and became smaller, as ib were. . Ashe wes dragged below, he uttered shriek upon shriek, abandoning himseif to the most ab- ject fear. He was taken to the hold and chained to the scaffolding which had been rigged up ior his es- pecial accommodation, When the men with their lanterns had gone away, he was in total darkness. No sound reached him but the plash of the water beating against the side of the vessel, the sharp ring of a ship’s bell, or the dash of a rat into the wa'cr. The solitude was awful, and was made more real and striking because the contrast between his present and former condition was so great. A few short hours before he was the owner of money with which he intended to have a good time in Havana and other places in the West Indies, where he was well acquainted. Now he was a poor wretch, condemned to die in a few hours, during which he would suffer the pangs of hunger, the tortures of a raging and ever increasing thirst, and mental agony such as it is the lot of few men to undergo. It seemed to him, chained as he was in the hold of that ship, that all those he had Injured during his life passed in array before him, gibing and jeering and mocking him about his ap- proaching doom, He dared not pray; he could only cry aloud in his m rtal terror, and when hismood changed he would cry like a cbild. About two o’clock in the morning, a messen- ger hailed the yacht, having in his hand a tele- graphic dispatch for the captain. It was from the Marquis Manuel de Garcia, and to this effect: “Order canceled. Shall come on board early in the morning.” This dispatch was sent to Captain Quevada after the scene which took place between Island Jim and the marquis in Mr, Mandragon’s draw- ing-room. Consequently, Belshazzar was respited, al- though he did not know it. The marquis wanted to find out from the Gipsy the nature of his connection with Jim. farly inthe morning, Garcia came on board and ordered the yacht to proceed to sea. When out of sight of land and with no ships - sight, the wretched man was brought on eck. He was cold and shivering; hunger had made him faint, and he was tormented with thirst. A rope had been thrown over the yard-arm, and the noose dangled loosely in the wind, with a barrel beneath it. Belshazzar eyed the preparations with ner- vous interest, knowing that they were provided for his especial benefit. ‘¢Your hour has come,” said the marquis, in a stony voice, which resembled the knell of doom, ‘unless you answer truthfully the ques- tions I put to you.” x J aun ready,” replied Belshazzar ; *‘ what are they ? evon are acquainted with a young man call- ed Dick Dimity, the son of the late Mr, Dimity, of Jersey City?’ **T am!” ‘* What is the nature of your connection with him?” dep: acted in the capacity of his adviser and tutor. ‘* How did you becon?s acquainted with him? ‘‘T met him when he ran away from home.” ** What induced you to tell him all you knew about me?” pursued the marquis. ‘*T saw you in the street. 1 was afraid of you, and took him into my confidence.” ‘*Ts that all you have to say?” 10 ‘*! am persuaded that there is something you are keeping back. ‘that boy is not what he seems to he. If you do not speak fully in five minutes I shall order your execution.” The marquis took out his watch and began to count the minutes as they winged their flight toward eternity, in the awful total of which they were speedily lost. Belshazzar was obstinate and would not talk; with all his faults he could not bring himself to betray his accomplice. ‘Time isup!” said the marquis, putting the watch in his pocket again and making a sign te the attendant sailors. Belshazzar was hoisted on the barrel, his hands were bound behind his back, the noose was placed round his neck, and the support kicked from under him. The rope tightened round his neck, and he spun round like a teetotum, struggling convul- sively, and gy owing black in the face as strangu- lation set in. Still he uttered no sound, and it was evident that he wes willing to die rather than speak. Seeing this to be the fact, the marquis said; ‘‘Cut him down and take him back to the hold. Perhaps hunger will do more than tho fear of death.” Belshazzar was cut down and laid on his back on the deck, he being already insensible, and no wonder, for he was half-strangled. His eyes were starting from their sockets, his tongue, black and swollen, lolled out of his mouth, and the veins of his forehead and neck, tightened like cords, were swollen almost to bursting. He was allowed to remain on deck till he re- covered, when he was taken below and chained to the side of the vessel as before. The yacht’s course was altered, and she tack- ed up the bay until she reached her former an- chorage. Before he quitted the yacht, the Marquis Gar- cia said to Captain Quevada: ‘‘ Visit the prisoner every four hours and asl: him if he will confess. Food and liberty shall be hisreward. If he will not speak or has noth- ing to admit, let him rot where he is. Should he, however, incline to reveal the mystery of which I think he has the key, telegraph immedi- ately for me.” The one promised to faithfully attend to these orders, and the marquis returned to the city. The first time the captain visited his wretched comicbooks.com: ee