Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 100 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

~ = him that ho went crazy! es two years passed. During that period { had_ greatly changed in appearance. Further diszuising chyiet ', [returned to the scene of my clever ex- ploits, uncer the uname of Saul Secor. I formed tho acquaintanco of a raccal by the name of Pierro Plaque—diable/ as great a rogue as my- self. Ilo loved gold immensely. He had a wife by the nams of Catherinc—another rascal! Sacre! I think that wo were all three pretty well matched,” and here Bramout cast a grin- ning look of significance upon the Voodoo, ** Woll, [ had conceived another plot. Havin visited Dorlan Ray at the asylum, I discovere two things; first, he had almost recovered bis reason; second, he was still ignorant of the fact that he had a child, I told, and impressed him, that his wife had died in giving birth to a fine, healthy female infant, and that I had charge of the infant, which was then about two yearsold. I also took pains to impress upon his mird that the authorities only waited for him to be of |! The French Spy. loved Osalind, came upon him so suddenly that his blood almest ceased to flow. ‘We cannot now see Dorlan Rav,” he half sped, proceeding to explain, briefly, the anger to the artist. ‘‘ But, since you are my friends I will tell you that Osalind is now a prisoner in her own rooms, and guarded. I may bring her here—to the arms of her mother —for safety,” aud turning to the tall, powerful mulatto: ‘“‘ Your name is Zabach, Come with me to the house of M. Achefort. I may need the aid of a man before I return. Come.” ‘* Lead,” tersely answered Zabach. The two men started for the house of M. Achefort. CHAPTER XVIII. A MYSTERY OF BLOOD. Franz EpOvuIN and the mulatto delayed not a moment. As they emerged upon the gloomy th before the entrance ot El Bibou, the great og, Belial, met them and followed after. At sound brain—according to m-dical certificate— | the gute Zabach said, addressing the dog: when they intended trying and punishing him ¢ for the crime of een, Di ble ! I frightened him, and I also made him that I had innocentl nate note myself, e faithful here until I return.” It was at this juncture that Osalind appeared think, for the time, | in the ae of the house of M. Acheiort. A negotiated that unfortu- : € e knows me better, lima- | face, and, momentary gleam of light shone full upon her nstantly recognizing her, Franz gine, in the years that bave passed since. It | Edouin sprung forward with her name upon his was flvally agreed that we should take the child and flee the country together. Mark, now: I had no child, for the child of Dorlan Ray was in an orphan home at Chichester. I must get a child. bad already planned for it—and a iece of revenge upon 8 lissa Gordon for pursu- ng me through the garden on the night i poi- sonel G-rtrude Ray. By artful devices, Ca- therine Piaque obtained the position of attend- ant and nurse in the employ of Selissa Gordon, who, subsequent to the death of her husband, which occurred a few months prior to that date had adopted the stage name of He!en Varcla. fi think lam right. Now, it was agreed that this nurse should meet me in the cellar of the house occupied by Helen Varcla, and give into my hancs the child of her mistress. I was to pay in this plot, one hundred pounds to Pierre Plaque, and fifty pounds to his wife. At the appointed time 1 met the nurse and receivel— no, I did not receive, because she had met me there to tell me that she had begun to dearly love boul the child aud its mother, and would not give the child up to me—” “Place that tomy credit, Helen Varcla,” said the Voodoo, gravely. “I was determined to have my priz>,” went on Bramont. “I stabbed her, snatched tho cLild from her and fled! Diable! As I fled, I heard ber say: ‘I will not die, Victor Bramont, but will live to kill you? With m assistance, Dorlan Ray escaped from the asylum, and we departed instantly aud forever from En land, riug Selissa Gordon’s child with us, hen we reached Paris, and while I stood beside the crib of the stolen child—which Ray innocently believed to be his own child—I made him prom- ise that when the child reached its nineteenth birthday she should become my wife, in case I ad not previously married, To-night is the nineteedith birthday o¢ that child. I came to Paris to claim fulfillment of the contract. I said I would be on hand at half-past ten—im- pore now. Diable! What time isit? Ha! a! Helen Varcla, your daughter is my prom- ised bride. If I niistake not, she lives directly opposite this house. Find her, ard have a merry Spe wy . Then Jet me get at this Franz Edouin, that I may give him a taste of the Americun bowie-knife! Diable !” vanz Edouin, overcome by greatest amaze- ment, Stared at the bold, sparling Bramont. The revelation of the villain so plainly indica- ted that he, and not Osalind, was the artist’s child, that there seemed no room for doubt. The Voodoo showed little, if any, surprise. Helen Varcla—as we shall continue to name ber —stood silent, half-incredulous, imumovable. ‘‘t believe that this man has spoken the truth,” said Ximo, when Bramont had finished his recital. ‘Then, if he has spoken truly,” exclaimed the actress, in a half-whisper, while her head drooped as if she pondered upon what she had pring ll, oa be ve : will love a ain, And orlan ae een good to my child.” 5 OS adeeb ‘* We can very soon settle this matter,” here spoke Franz Edouin, witha business-like ring to his voice. ‘ Let us at once see Dorlan Ray -m y father—and see what wil] be the result whe he tin that oo * not, and Iam his child. “ow can you, Helen Varci recogn ot That & ES. eae “That is easy,” rep elen Varela, j diately. ‘She hasan unmistakable sh Tae gl an hs of diamonds on the left side of her neck. ‘*Be sure, then, that Osalind, the su ed daughter of Dorlan Ray, is your child. "have noticed that very birthmark a hundred times, in my wooing. Come, We shall see—” but he paused in his speech, Until that instaut he had quite forgotten that Dorlan Ray was a prisoner in the hands of the terrible Commune, and this, and the recollec- tion of the jeopardy in which he had left his be- LLL LLL LLL LL LS LL EE I a e888" ee Eee But so intense was the excitement which ssed her, that she either cid not bear, or id not understand the voice of Franz Edouin: lips. and while he was running toward his betrothed | —unseen by her in the gloom of the night—she bounded into the saddle of the horse which De Vin had left standing at the pave, then galloped | away at a mad pace, never casting a glance be- hind nor hearing the second cry from her lover | bidding her come back. , ‘Great Heaven! what can she mean?” burst from the astounded lover, who halted and strained his eyes after her. ‘I know that she has no experience in the management of a | horse, and that wild ride may be ber death! Zabach!—” Zabach had recognized the maiden, both by that transient eleam of light and the cry utter- ed by Franz Edouin. Immediately impressed with a sense that all was not right, and acting upon a sudden impulse, he spoke tc the huge dog in a tone of quick command, pointing tow the receding horse and rider. ‘ Belial—follow! Bring that woman!” The intelligent animal, without a sound, dart- ed from the gate, and swift as an arrow sped forward in pursuit of Osalind. In the same moment, rig De Vin came hur- | riedly from: the house of Achefort. The same gleam of light which had shown Franz Edouin bis betrothed, also discovered the iden- tity of the man who was evidently pursuing her. Muttering an exclamation of almost savage pleasure, he sprung toward the villain and would-be destroyer of his happiness. ‘“At last—at last!” and into the ears of De Vin he tiercely aissed: *‘ I am Franz Edouin! At Jasi I have my hands upon your carcass, Poilip De Vin!—and shall bring you to account for attempting my life at Versailles, and for rob- bing me of my beloved Osalind!—or trying to rob me!—and_ for imprisoning Dorlan Ray! Scoundrel De Vin! Ishail squeeze your life out!” The struggle which ensued was no child’s play. De Vin, finding himself engaged with a mau he had suppo-ed to be dead, and for the report of whose death he had paid liberally, and know- ing that he could not expect mercy at the hands of the champion of the maiden be bad perse- cuted with base importunities, fought with de- moniac fury, and twice succeeded in inflicting smart wounds upon his tenacious adversary, en ~ knife which he invariably carried in his reast, The terrific conflict, which must have ended in the death of one of the combatants, was ter- minated by a kick from Zabach which rendered De Vin partly unconscious. ‘Who is this?” he asked, calmly, when De Vin was overcome and bound securely witha scarf which Zabach wore. ‘‘It is the scoundrel, De Vin! The very man who imprisoned Dorlan Ray, and who would dishonor the woman I adore! Better to have let us fight it out for his death or mine!” ‘*No—betier as itis, We shall keep him as bostegs for the safety of Dorlan Ray.’ ‘* What would you do?” For answer, Zabach swung Philip De Vin up onto his shoulder, very much like a man carry- inz a sack of flour, and tottered back toward Bibou. “You have no use for me now,” he said, to Franz Edouin; and to Philip De Vin, he said: ‘« Be silent, or 1 may have a notion to let you fall and dash your brains out on the pave!” Franz Edouin stood alone, looking after Za- bach, and wondering whet to do in his dilemma. The cause of Osalind’s flight was plain to him, But whither had she gone, even admitting the possibility that she could contro] the spirited animal which she rode? A visit to the rooms of the artist could accomplish nothing now. ‘‘ At least,” he concluded, *‘I can see some of my older brothers—tried friends and many—in the detective service. By our united efforts, I may discover the whereabouts of my beloved ' to find her. aside, that the dying! / mood. Thrills and feeli fed fresh | some acutel Was plun | dream, born of the conviction that soon she might _ Clasp and kiss and possess forever th child for whom she had sought and struegled vainly during seven- | teen torturous years. Whatever misgivings might have arisen as to the possibility of Osalind being _ easily reconciled to the sudden change of parents, she banished them as evil imps of useless _ bliseful reu ' toward Dorlan Rey, the man for whom she had u bind them,” 15 Osalind. I must forget all else in my endeavors Nothing can be attained by stand- ing here like an idle boy with his hands in his pcckets.” He started off at a brisk walk, but had scarce- ly taken a dozen steps when he met a man tot- tering and staggering frcm side to side, as if beastly drunk with wine, Thinking it was but a reveler Apres | blindly homen ard, he ctepped eliow night pass. But the men paused, with a giddy lurch, stared bewiidercdly Into the face of the young detective, then cried, in busky accents: “Franz! Franz Edouin! I em dying!” ond fell forward ee pepe into the arms that instantly outstretched tc receive him. “Great Heaven!” exclaimed Frenz Edcuin. “Dorian Ray! Can it be you?” “Yes! Dorlan Ray!—wounded to: death!— Help! I suffocate!” ‘This way! Let me Lold you—thus! Merci- ful Father! what is all this?” for he saw | lood upon the artist’s face, and as be supported him onward felt that his clothes were also saturated with blood. Exerting all his strergth, Franz Edouin fairly | carried the artist to his rocms, so luckily close at hand. The French girl had disappeared. Placing Dorlan Ray, now insensible, upon the lounge, the ycung man bastened to ascertain the nature and extent of his wounds, and ren- der every assistence in bis power. ‘*Ob, for some female band here! What fiend- ish murcerer’s ceed is thisi” he cri d, pausing Inbis taskand chcked for breath, sbuddeiing as he contemplated the ghastly sight which bis ex- amination revealed. The face of Dorlan Ray was bruised and swol- len; hair matted over a gory wound; handsand clothes dyed with blood. Inthe side, above the | eI was another wound, evidently from a rifle- It seemed to him that the motionless figure was already dead. A feeling of cick horror seized bim, and for a moment he buried his face in his hand s, to shut out the bleeding spectacle. The cause and myst ry of the artist’s fatal | condition were to be explained to him within a few minutes. As he returned again to tathe and stanch the gaping wounds, the clock cn the mantle-piece struck the hour of twelve. CHAPTER XIX. BRéMONT MEETS WELCOME COMPANY. AFTER the departure of Franz Edouin and Zabach, the Voodoo addressed Victor Bramont: “For once, villain,’ she said, “I believe that tongue of perjurous blisters has spoken truly.” . “ Di.ble, yes. In a few moments Franz Edouin will return with the supposed child of the artist, and that child is the daughter of Helen Varcla, who stands there!" The mind of the actress was in a strangely tangled lings of «motion coursed over her nerves and into her teins till it seemed that one more drop of gladness would be too much. The keenest, yet most delicate of a mother’s sweetest anticipations, caused her full bosom to beave and throb with fervid eagerness. Each passing second heat to the giddy, wearing exvectations which flashed and chased in gleesome quiclness across her picturing brain; indeed, it was as if, by pleasant and mesmeric influence she in the midst of a short but delightful shadow within this almost Pek s dededin joy. At the same moment in which she dwelt upon the on in prospect, her heart also melted cherished nothing but hatred since the day of bis marriage to Gertrude, twenty-two years previous; and another and happy thought—that once more the old time feeling of mutual regard paigns be re- vived—came upon her and bebe ¥ yw of a resur- rected flame whose ecstasy would smother every bitter memory of the past. So much for Helen Varcla, one ot those remarkable women governed by extreme impulses of resentment and contrite- nes3, comctining the passions and bravery of a man with the ever-living tenderness of her sex, who coul:! forget the disappointment cf her early aud first love, and ees double joy in store in the meeting with her Jost child and that child's now reloved pro- tector. It was while giving herself up to this two- fold deligikt that she murmured a second time: “Yes, I will love again, and never hate Dorlan ? “Ho! TI imagine so. Second-hand kiss, though!” put in Bramont, who overheard the lowly-uttered words of the actress. The harsh, sneering voice aroused Helen Varcla frora her momentary dream, aud also aroused all the quick fire in her nature. ‘“‘ Have a care!’’ she warned, with flashing eyes. “Your life has been spared for the crimes you have committed in the past. That will not grant you immunity for what you may say or do now—” ** His life is not wholly guaranteed,” corrected the Voodoo. “ He has yet to meet Franz Edouin with the American bowic-knife.’ ‘ , * Di tle! yes. Let me get at him,” snarled Bra morit, ap copper! eager. ** Now, Victor mont, you will Erepare to_be led to taat room I have spoken of, where the duel is to take place.” “Oh, ‘prepare’! What am 1 to do, witch?” “You will place hae back to this grated window, and pass your hands through bebind you, that I may JOO Gomme Ss)