Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 100 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

other excuse than that o _0 her’s sad discomfiture—has just 12 ———— even for his wife’s funeral, became a veritable madman with grief, and had to be placed in an insane asylum. His son, who bore the birth- mark of a red crescent in the palm of his right hand—was placed, by proper persons, in the Or- phan Asylum at Chichester—” The actress was interrupted, and all were star- tled, by a quick cry more like the shriek of some infuriated animal. Franz Edouin, with wide starting eyes, panting breath, and whole frame quivering witha terrible excitement, tugged and wrung savagely at the bars, straining every nerve until red in the face, while he gasped and shouted, hoarse and choked: ‘*Let mein there! Find me an opening! I tell you I shall go mad!” “ Foolish young man!” exclaimed the Voodoo, sternly, and no longer able to keep him back from the bars. ‘‘ You cannot get into that cell for it has no entrance down here. I must re- mind you that you, too, are a captive in this house, and if you seek to harm Victor Bramont —who is the exclusive prisoner of Helen Varcla —I may promise you that you will fare badly at other hands than his. Peace, I say!” **T must bave my grip on the throat of yonder Villain!” cried Franz ouin, maintaining his flerce and futile assault upon the bars. ‘“ There is a great myst«ry in what [ have heard. I the scar of a red crescent in the palm of my right hand! I was released from the Or- han Asylum at Chichester four years ago! his man must be the murderer of my mother, and Dorlan Ray must be my father! I have been near marrying the daughter of my father, who is my sister or half-sister, and so commit a crime which all the mercy of God will not ex- cuse! Let me get at this man and compel him to speak!—for he alone may be able to clear up the tangle of what I fear. lf my discoveries forbid me, by the laws of Heaven, to wed with my adored Osalind, then will 1 tear the ver vitals from your carcass—scoundrel Bramont! You shall speak, I say, if I have to prod your tongue with red-hot forks! Opena way for me Voodoo! open!—or every block of stone will I dig out with these nails of mine! Devil Bra- mont! murderer of my mother! I will reach _ ise y!’ and he wrenched and fought at e bars like a man possessed by a hundred uvenging rages. Bramont, startled and, for a moment, in fear of his life, maintained an exterior of dogged coolness, ete he exclaimed, behird his teeth: ** Daible! then I was correct in my suspicion. Here is the son of the woman I poisoned, and who, by that unlucky speech of the actress, has discovered himself to be the son of Dorlan Ray. At this rate, the whole secret will come out, un- helped by me. Sarre! Then these foes of mine, having no further use for me, will leave me to die of snake-bites, or strangle me, or dis- of me in some other horrible manner. My fe must be saved. I must run risks of catch- ing them all by the hip some other time. Let me devise means to escape from them, and once free, we shall start another battle at cunning. Yes—diable /—my life first, I will speak em. And aloud he snarled: “Hollo, there! Voodoo! actress! Grapple with that madman! [ will tell you what you ask, but upon one condition.” CHAPTER XIV. THE DISAPPOINTMENT OF DE VIN. DORLAN Ray sat dejectedly on the edge of a rude couch, in a dismal cell of the Conciergerie. His limbs were neewy manacled, and a long chain, attached to the handcuffs on his wrists, hung and trailed upon the floor at his feet. Had he been a very murderer his confinement could not have been made more ignominious; but it was no cause for wonderment, when men more illustrious than he were similarly incar- cerated and insulted by the execrable leaders who at that time inflicted Lg pert upon no a personal grudge against their unfortunate victims—a fact which caused Archbishop Darbov, himself then a pris- oner at the mercy of the Commune, and whose cold-blooded assassination was fast being plot- ted, to protest eloquently against the tribunal whose authority cast so many helpless and re- putable men into the cells of the Conciergerie. The head of the artist was bowed and his eyes downcast, like one who only too fully feels and shrinks from the hopelessness of bis situation— hopeless, indeed, for Philip De Vin—who stood near by and seemed to gloat unlimitedly at the d, with stinging emphasis: “Aha! my friend Ray. I think it will be to stand against the wall and be shot by a file of soldiers, when you go out of this prison!” ‘“‘ Not a file of soldiers, but a platoon of mur- derers, all arch-villains, like yourself!” retorted the eer sullenly. ‘You compliment me,” sarcastically. “It has come to the ears of the Commune,” again ricked the malicious tormentor, ‘‘ that Dorlan Ray is, in reality, a spy of the Versailles gov- ernment—” +A lHe' “You cannot prove that, even if I gave you the chance. Ha! hal Parbleu/ Isuppore you \ know the penalty? Eb? The jury of Accusa- tion will make very short work with your case!” ** Yes,” said Dorlan Ray, ‘‘ you are planning monstrous revenge, because I sought to save my daughter from your clutches. Have a care, Philip De Vin: God’s own guod time will bring retribution upon the heads of all such men as ou!” the latter prophecy which was slowly ut surely fulfilled, as the finale of the wild, un- holy record of the Paris Commune has proved on the pages of history. ‘When you are dead, Monsieur Ray,” pur- sued De Vin, tauntingly, ‘‘I will compel the fair Osalind to marry me—ha! take care there! If you once raise those chains to strike me, | will drive the point of my sword through your body! Do not forget that you are chained to the floor by a chain only five feet in length; and while you sprung vainly about, I could pick you to pieces with my weapon, and you could not strike back! Parbleu! Iam not a fool to give you a chance at my life.” ‘*Leave me—detestable shape! If I am to die because of the false charges you have circulated against me, at least allow me the peace of soli- tude, in which to prepare my soul to meet the God B hing) image desecrates—” ‘** But I have told you that you need not die. Accept the proposition I tendered a few mo- ments since, and [solemnly promise that I will aid you to escape to Versailles. Think, if you die, I will possess your Osalind still the same. If you live, you will have a chance to see how happy I will make her,” the last with a grim sinile and tone almost a sneer. ‘* Were it not well for me to gain time with this rascal?’ Ray thought, questioringly.. ‘‘ He has asked me to influence ind in accepting him for a husband, and promises me a road of escape not only from the Conciergerie, but also from Paris. Ah! he cannot deceive me—dog and liar!” ** Let me acquaint you with another motive I have for ordering you to be shot, Monsieur Ray, ” said De Vin, sharply. “What, save the brutal passions of a man- devil to degrade my poor enild!” ‘Your memory will perhaps recall a time, something like twenty ® he ABO, when you were forced to fly from England.’ . Dorlan Ray started asif stung to the quick. Slowly he raised his head, and the eyes of the men met in a moment of silence. ‘** Well, what next?’ questioned the PS agro doggedly. his head again drooping and his gaze bent on the hard, bare floor. ‘““You bad an acquaintance whom you called afriend. His name was Victor Bramont.” “Curse that name!” burst involuntarily from the lips of Dorlan Ray. ‘* He forged a note, gave it to you, persuaded you to indorse and negotiate it for him—telling you that he had received it from a second par- ty, whose indorsement it also bore. This Vic- tor Bramont pocketed the money; you only rie gia aterm of penal servitude by instant ight— R Then you, for one, Philip De Vin, know that I was innocent of intentional crime.’ ** True—but the court does not. To-day there hangs a sentence over your head which you only avoided when you returned to the death- of your wife, by becoming, or pretending to become, stark crazy. Purbleu! I think it was a trick.” ** What has that affair to do with you?” “Much, I imagine. The party upon whom the note was forged was an uncle of mine, and —parbieu !—I lost an admirable chance at in- heritance, because the transaction ruined him, For depriving me of this chance, I hate you en- ough to hang you!” clenching his fist and snarl- ing the last venomously. ‘Why not vent that hate upon Victor Bra- mont, the true dastard in the deed? I believed the note genuine.” “To return to our mutton, Monsieur Ray. Live, and induce the beautiful Osalind to wed with me. Die, and I will have her all the same.” Dorlan Ray well knew that De Vin did not boast idly in threatening to have him shot with almost no semblance of a trial, and essing such authority, and stimulated by all the en- mity of aeraven nature he would eventually commit the cowardly deed. The horrible mur- der of Generals Lecomte and Thomas was still fresh in the artist’s mind, and among such men of blood—defying the judgment of God and all the merciful laws of mankind—it would be an easy task to bring about the assassination upon the charge of collusion with the Versailles gov- ernment. To gain time, now, was the object A vd in the mind of this victim to Colonel Philip De Vin’s base scheming, and trusting to the hope of faith in Providence, he said, slowly: ‘Send for my daughter. Let her see my situation and hear of my prospective doom. Give us time for consultation together, and if she will voluntarily consent, on the face of all, to wed you, then her fate be in her own bands.” ** Parbleu !” exclaimed De Vin, beginning to experience a satanic glee at having, as he erro- neously my eee overcome the scruples of the artist. ‘*‘ But you must further aid my suit by urging an immedidte ceremony.” me ee ee eee ‘‘T will say no more,” replied Ray, with a determined voice. ‘Send for my child, and we shall see—-” he stopped short, finishing the sen- tence in his brain thus: ‘‘ ‘> shall see if she is a true woman, or a cowerd for her father’s sake. lf she be strong and reli: nt on Heaven, we will die together before this \.llain’; very eyes. It is well that I have in my bc cma vial, the con- tents of which can place us Leyond the persecu- tions of both Philip De Vin and Victor Bra- mont. And aloud, he said: ‘Begone. You have had the only answer I will give, though you do your worst.” ‘*T go,” spoke De Vin, after a moment, asmile of menace round his lips. ‘‘ But, mark well, Dorlan Ray: unless your child consents to’ be- come my bride before daylight, you will be~ parbleu! I swear!—you will be shot with the first gleam of sunrise. Au revoir!” He wheeled and departed, his spurred heels thumping loudly along the grim passage with- out, Dorlan Ray cunk irto a despondent mood; sitting silent, immovable, but thoughtful, in that solitary surrounding whose passive air was only broken by the boom of distant cannon and the bursting of shells that were now being thrown far into the streets of Paris by the Ver- sailles troops. He was meditating upon the re- solution he had taken, and once he inserted his hand in his breast, to finger the vial of poison which, in his desperation, he meant should re- lease Osalind and himself from this last and un- supportable trial. ‘Better death together,” was his burning thought, ‘‘than the dishonor of this. villain’s triumph! Oh, life! what a page of sorrow you have been to me! Heaven pardon me for the deed I contemplate, and receive, at least, the suffering suul of my pure, sinless Osalind!” Colonel Philip De Vin lost no time aitter leav- ing the cell of biscaplive. He procured a horse and started full gallop for the house of M. A¢he- fort, bidding an escort follow him there with a cab. Jabilant De Vin! At last he almost felt the lovely person of Osalind within his pollutin grasp, and in ecstasies fancied the reading o that solemn ceremony which would bind her to him forever. Diabolical De Vin! for his prom- ise to spare the life of Dorlan Ray was as false as his base nature could admit. To obtain his beautiful prize by the aid of the father was ad- mirable enough, in that it would probably save ; him much trouble in overcoming any obstinate resistance on the part of the maiden; but to set free the prisoner at the Conciergerie was an ex- periment he really dared not undertake, as he was now responsible in person for his safe-keep- ing, the Commune haying fully entertained the charges set forth by De Vin, that Dorlan Ray was a spy for the Versaillese. And, too, if Ray was free, it might occur, at some future date, that bis undying hate would prove disastrous to De Vin’s now dawning prospects of unhallow- ed joy. 2 Purbleu ! no!” he muttered. ‘* Once the fair Osalind is mine, I will see to it that Dorlan Ray dies the death of a dog!” On he thundered and clattered, finally arriy- ing. before the house of M. Achefort. ‘astening his horse to a ring in the pave, he bounded expectantly up the stairs—but hesita- ted with a feeling that all was not right, when he reached the door of the artist’s studio. This door was closed and the key was upon the out- side. A trial of the knob discovered the door to be locked. With a thrill of apprehension he forced an entrance, and paused abruptly upon beholding the French girl on her knees in the center of the floor, her head bowed low and face hidden in her hands. Had there lingered any doubt in his mind of what had transpired during his absence, the at- titude of the girl and a glance around—which showed him that Osalind was not there—at once told all. 4 ‘“ Parbleu! What!” he shouted, angrily, strid. ing forward, and roughly shaking the cowering irl, “You are the prisoner, instead of she!—you ave permitted her to escape—miserable ! Imay kill you for this!” “Oh, monsieur! Monsieur De Vin!” she wail- ed, in accents piteous with terror. ‘Spare my good-for-nothing lifel She was shrewd as a cat and quick as an antelope! But if you haste you will catch her! Even as you came up the staircase, She was turning the key in the lock! She is surely not yet out of the house! She can- not escape you! Ah! monsieur, I could not help it—on the cross, I swear!” ‘ Parblew!” cried the enraged ruffian: ‘‘if she is gone so late as that I may overtake her, se the house—you—while 1 keep watch be- ow! _ He dashed full speed from the room, mutter. ing curses on the delinqvent French girl. Tho sound of retreating footsteps on the stairs at- tracted his ear, and believing it to be caused by the fleeing Osalind, he followed after with long leaps. In the last and lower story, and while half-way down the iast flight, he caught sight of a fluttering skirt disappearing outside the door, which immediately banged shut. “ Parblew! ’tis she!” broke from his lips, while he doubled the speed of his pursuit. The next instant he was upon the pave, But ebooks <€om (E()