Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 100 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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-_—— —_ + —- ~- ~- 18 cord kept of tho last call—though such calls had ever Leen infrequent—and by preconcerted arran -+e- ment, the rendezvous was known to be Chute cu D'eau. Had it not been for the reason that many of that section had perished during the siege, and others broken allegiance to the profession, the num- ber answering to tue summons would have been far more than thirty. At the a ag ep of Franz Edouin, who now wore, bri ht y displayed upon his breast, a star of highly-polished silver, it was known, by the exhibi- tion of the star, that to him must they look for an explanvtion of the sudden summons. : Well, Franz,’’ said one, advancing from the som- | | A million, forsooth! I'll be off at once!” ber group, “we are ind bted to you for this call—as “I seo by the star. What is the emergency?” **My friends,”’ re;_lied the yonng detective, forcing acalmness which almost belied his features, ‘* we, who are bound by the secret signal, even to graver duties than the allegiance of our oftice, are sworn to ail a brother—are we not?”’ ** Yos,*’ at onze, “Listen, Who among you would hesitate to call upon inc to aid you in defense of a mother or a sis- tev from dishonor? What more precious, compared wita either, than the promised bride—the maiden to whom a man’s whole heart is given? Such a one— my own betrothed—is now, or soon will be, in the power of the meanest scoundrel who now wears spurs given bythe Commune! He is high in author- ity. I ask not if you are for the Commune, or against it. There are, surely, some hearts of principle, even in these terrible times. Thisis a personal issue. I wish to save the maiden of my heart from dishonor. To do so may require battle and blood. Who will re- fuse to fight for innccence and purity, and make me a debtor forever?”’ **Not [! shouted all, enthusiastically. ‘‘Go on, Tranz E.touin!”’ And the man who had first addressed Franz said, graspiug his hand fervently: ‘**S.iow us the service, Franz Edouin. There are many of us here who love to strike for innocence and right; and, by every pleasant recollection of the time when you aud I have ‘trailed’ together, I will give my life to aid you!” ease a dear friend! Then come. Follow me, a The young detective started forward, followed by thirty truce, tried friends—men who had collared many a ruffian and faced the flash of a pistol—and thouzh their steps were fast, still faster beat the heart of Franz Edouin, who feared that he might not be in time to defeat the designs of villainous Philip De Vin. CHAPTER XXIV. TUE CALL OF PIERRE PLAQUE. Tne dead torm of Zabach upon the ottoman lounge, at one sids of the room; the erect, quivering, wratotal figure of Lhe Voodoo, in the center of tne room; the cowering anaiomy of Pierre Plaque, as the latter snrun< close to the furthest corner of the room; allformed a s.riking tableau of death, rage and terror, in the single minute of silence whicn prevail 4 after the departure of Helen Varcla. In tha? minute—while her blazing eyes were fixed intently upon the trembling Death-cart driver, and her brain was most turbuleut with thoughts of ven- yeance upon the murderers of Zabach—the far- seeing mind of the Voodoo was grasping at conclu- sions anv plans. ‘Pierre Plaque—renegade!”’ she screamed, step- ping forward aud layiang bsld upon his shoulier and throat. “ Many a time nave I chastised you with a cart-whip, when you were foulish enough to awaken my anger!’’ “Oh, | know that well!’ chattered the terrified anid squirming iu her talon fingers like an eel on a hook. ** But I have ever mercifully spared your life.” * Yes. But—by the bones!—you will kill me yet, with that gripe of yours! Hc! not so hard!” “In the face of your memories, you would not dare to trifle with me.”’ *Not i! Oucn! A little mercy, I beg, for this shouller of mine!” and but for the iron gripe which heli him, he would have sunk to his knees in the ex- cruciating pain inilicted by that same gripe. The debased lfe led by the Deatu-cart driver, backed and pen ioned by villains who, at that ‘riod, glutted in reckless power and lustful in- rigue, bad created in Pierre a man of cunning and boiJness when dealing with men, especially those whom he knew to be enemies of theCommune, his headlong pursuit of the during l’'ranz Edouin and Jean Araobld, on the Versailles road, in an earl rtion ot our recital, was sufficient evidence of his rute bravery. In the a instance, however, his case was vastly different. The fact that this woman—who was once his acknowledged wite, and whom he had abandoned through absolute fear— bad always been bis master, and had frequently coe proofs of her strength and rage by whipping im soundiy—besides holding now, as it were, a hal.er round his neck—resurrected every cowardly element in his nature, and caused him to pray fer- vently, as he wriggled and twisted helplessly, that he might, upon any terms, be allowed to escape with nis wicked life. “ By the boues of the catacombs!" he vowed. ‘If cc Heng let me off, I will serve you, skin, joints and blood!"’ ‘Hear, then. It is very plain to me that Victor Bramont and Philip De Vin have mutually discover- _ ed, or will discover, themselves to Le enemies in rivalry for the possession of Osalind Ray. Bramont, ow that he is free, will make all soeed to get her— <nowing, by what he heard, at that door, wheve to 100k for ner. This De Vin will try to thwart. Both, knowing that there will be a struggle, will go in force. Neither will los» much time. ‘they may be going uhither now, Helen Varcla may not have reached her daughter, and if she has, cannot do much single- handed.” “Very true. Quite true—all of it!” promptly agreed Pierre Pluque, adding, inwardly: ** And if you do not loosen tne gripe on my shouider and the gvipe on my throat, I shali be a dead man before you ave through with all this premise !”’ , ‘“Hear—and silence! By the assassination of #abach, [ have lost the means of communication with my spies and others who could serve me in this ~ -_— a The service 1 pow requxe ef you is, | The French Spy. Ba MER ee ree that you arouse those thieves and rascals, in whose | the floor, weltering in blood that flowed from a torn secret society you are a member, and instruct them to follow me for the rescue of that persecuted maiden, Osalind Ray; in the event of meeting armed opposition from both t’hilip De Vin and Victor Bra- mont, they must be pre to fight. If you need money, let them look to me forit. Do you under- stand me?—renegade!” *“Oh, you are asking a slight service, compared | with my readiness!” “Will you do this, and save yourself from my wrath?”’ “Yes. With delight. Iwill arouse and fill with fire every rascal I know, whether thief or gentleman! ‘“*T have no doubt you know a way to expedite my wishes.”’ ** Oh, you may trust me!”’ The Voodoo released him, and he shot through the doorway as if discharged from a gun, almost tum- bling aown the stuirs in his extreme haste, for he feared that the Voodoo might alter her intentions in a second, and again lay hold upon him with those talon fingers, whose gripe was like the bite of a formidable pincer, ‘“Meet me’ at the Boulevards Lenoir and Prince Eugene. Fail at your peril!” called Ximo, after the flying, jumping, leaping Death-cart driver. Pierre Plaque barely heard the words of warning as he darted from the house and ran, with nimble feet, down the broad entrance path, bounding out on the pave like a Jack from a box. “May all the dogs cf Paris make a meal on my bad luck!’ he squeaked. ‘*Oh, by the bones! my visions of gold!—where are they now? Where is my horse? Ho, if I had a horse, I could work faster. I remember! Helen Varcla took it. [am bound to serve this devil—Voodoo—onve my wife, whom I Boas never to meet again in this world!—else she will either deliver me to the revenge of Colonel og De Vin, or to the punishment of the authori- ties, for being a member of the worst gang of thieves in the city, or twist me into quarters, herself, for daring to disregard her command. She could easily find and capture me; for she has spies—I heard her say something about spies! By the bones! I am making money out of the Commune business, and I cannot afford to close my career while the harvest lasts. To insure “| freedom and profits I must obey the Voodoo! Now then, for my friends, ras- cals and brothers!”’ He ran on into the gloom, uttering, as he went, an admirable call like the hoot of an owl. This was al- most immediately answered by a sound resembling the caw of a crow. Then the notes of a mocking bird, followed by the warble of a wren, the chatter of a parrot, the ery of a hawk and other similar noises that multiplied in the vicinity of Quai Louis, thence along the canal, gradually concentrating to- ward a given point. ouching, repo | forms peeped around corners and out of shadows, like rats scenting a banquet and siynaling each other before venturing from concealment, These bird-calls—which so suddenly and singular- ly peopled the vicinity of the canal at the same time that the whistles, started by Franz Edouin, were as- sembling the force of detectives at Chateau D’eau— were also noticed by Victor Bramont, it will be re- membered, when he set forth to capture Osalind, with thirteen hired ruffians at his heels. Pierre Plaque worked fast and earnestly, movin hither and thither, and presently his own Death-ca —for which he nad dispatched a trusty associate— came almost noiselessly to hand, just as he, and a vast number of thieves thus summoned from their dens, poured forward to the junction of Boulevards Lenoir and Prince Eugene. So that while Helen Varela, abead of all, was speeding to the abode of Pierre Plaque, on the seat of a cannon carriage— praying to Heaven that she might be in time to suc- cor her child—the cavalry ordered by Philip De Vin, and the detectives led by Franz ouin, and the horde of thieves aroused and employed by the Death-cart driver, were a!l marching rapidly with the same destination, by three separate routes, the presence and power of each force as yet unknown to the other. Ximo, the Voodoo, was in waiting at the «Sg ed spot. Leaping into the Death-cart, she cried: “Now, on!---on to your home, Pierre Plaque! Lose not a minuve! Ha e you paid these vagabonds for the service they may have to perform?’ point- ing to the men followiug, who were ali armed with clubs, pistols and knives. ‘* By the bones! Every man ready to fight to the last gasp!’’ replied Pierre, starting his sable horse ona ody while the thieves kept pace at a double uick. ‘The three strange processions of armed men would have attracted crowds had they transpired in the daytime or in early evening. It being now after midnight, and the sections traversed somewhat re- moved from the centers of turbulence agitating in- surrectionary Paris, these Ph mp a continued their way with but a few curious pela to witness, follow and wonder at the cause of such a display. It would not be long, now, before these different hosts would meet, and violent death was in store for many of them, in the dismal street where lived the Deatu-cart driver. CHAPTER XXV. THE CHARGE OF THE DETECTIVES. Wuen Victor Bramont gave the order to fire—as at the end of chapter twenty-second—every shot was aimed at the ferocious dog, Belial, notwithstandin Bramont cried out to shvot both the dog at his nee and the woman in the doorway. Hence the fierce onslaught of the unharmed Helen Varcla. Many of the bullets pierced the faithful animal through and tirough, and some tore Bramont’s clothing; but, though he received two or three smarting flesh-wounds, he escaped, by a miracle, ay serious hurt, and as the dog droyped lifeless upon the ground, the fortunate villain sprung to- ward the wide-open door. Helen Varcla, surrounded by the swarthy ruffians, who, despite her prowess, were hard pressing her, saw, too late, the error she had committed in leaving her position at the doorway, for all her ani agonists now seemed combined in the purpose to beat her further and further back. While this unequal combat waged, Victor oa Ment, at one Lound, entered the dingy room. all na ee and lacerated neck, lay the body of the unfortunate rogue, Jacoli. At a far side, shrinking against the wall, her fair face white with alarm, was Osalind. At sight of her Bramont uttered a loud, inarticu- late yelp of triumph. ‘*‘Aha! It is she! You are Osalind Ray, for whom I am searching!” “Oh, sir!’ cried the maiden, in piteous accents, ‘say that you are my friend! Aid me, I beseech you! I know not what to do—where toturn! Iam a helpless girl, suffering more than you can con- ceive—”"’ “* Diable! T am Victor Bramont!” he interrupted with the voice of a fiend gloating overa beautiful prey. “Iam Victor Bramont! And by a contract with your father, 1am here to claim you for my bride! Ho! you are mine at last!” A wild, despairing shriek rung from the lips of Osalind Ray, as she cowered furtuer from this cread- ed man whose very name fairly froze the blood in her veins. Simultaneous with her outcry, there arose a howl among the ruffians without the door, and in the same moment, while the clash of swords sounded with re- doubled fury, and pistols cracked in quick succes- sion, there were a score of shouts, the words of which were: ‘*Down with the assassins! Live, Franz Edouin! Death to all persecutors of innocence and purity |" ‘Ho! Dialie! What can be the meaning of that?” exclaimed Bramont, hastening to the door. . An unexpected sight greeted him; shown by pow- der-flashes and the bright lights from numerous windows that were now thrown open in the ncigh- horhood, the inhabitants of the anaeeee houses having been aroused from peaceful slumber by the sudden and loud din of conflict. Bramont’s rufflans were being attacked on every side by a tody of men wearing slouched hats and capes with blood-red lin- ing—the lining displayed as the flaps of the nae were buttoned back over the shoulders, to give the arms free play—and each man wore a shining silver star upon his breast. While Bramont gazed in as- tonishment, he was confronted by one of the men, who cried: rc “Scoundrel Bramont! Ihad not looked for you ere)’ “ Sacre! You are Franz Edouin, the detective!” “The avenger of my mother, whom you murder- ed! Fight, now, for your miserable life!”’ In an instant their daggers crossed, and they swayed, ees fae lunged and parried, graduall working away trom the door, while 'ranz cried loud- ly to his followers: ‘* Let all keep off, and leave this wretch to me!” Hardly had thay left the doorway, when Helen Varcla succeeded in regaining the step, where she held at bay a burly ruffian who had singled Ler for his especial adver , and who appeared to be as adroit as the actress in handling the sword. Blood streamed from several] wounds in the bare arms of Helen Varcla, and the left arm was render- ed useless by a te: rible cut on the back of the hand | Ae 8 wrought a ghastly and profusely-bleeding wound, ** Par Dieu / T cannot believe that I was born to be whipped by a woman!” snarled the fellow, pressin his attack with such skill that the actress, Weniied with the duration of her first encounter, must soon have succumbed. She made no retort. Her back was against the door-jamb, and the lightning circles of *her sword barred entrance further. In the surging and jostling of the combatants about them, nz Edouin and Victor Bramont lad become separated before either had received any wound of consequence. And almost at the ;ame second that the ruffian made his confident boast, he uttered a wild scream of agony and sunk down fiom a pcanie eee in ey 9] . ranz K.douin, who had delivered the blow, sprung past the actress. he ‘*Osalind! Osalind! Where are you?” “Franz! Dear Fianz! Oh! Heaven be praised!” and the lovers were clasped together in a passionate embrace, ; " ag a a is that?’ indicating the dead body of acoli. **Dear Franz, I have heard to-night that which tells me I shall yet live to see and know my mother, The wretch whose body lies there, would have kept me a prisoner, for a purpose [ do aot yet compre- hend, when I was oi by a strange but wonderful dog which slew him when he would have laid hands upon me. The dog was here a moment since, and seemed to know a woman whom I never saw before, and this woman came scarce a minute before the arrival of terrible Victor Bramont. Oh, her bright eyes, dear Franz! How kindly they beamea upon me! But before she could speak and tell me the cause of her coming, this fearful attack began, Whatisit? Yor 1 hear such curdling noises, and I know that there is death beyond that door!”’ ‘* Look up, darling Osalind! Soon all will be well. The mother who loves you, and whom you cannot remember, is even nearer than you suspect. Thank Heaven! I was in time to save you from the villain, Bramont!” But Osalind heard not his last sentence. ‘The strain of her abundant joy, after so much of trial, was overpowering. She swooned in his arms, and at the same time Helen Varcla called, anxiously: **Come here, quickly, Franz Edouin! This night’s work is far from being over. Look!" and she raised her sword, pointing off along the street. Tenderly placing the insensible form of his be. trothed upon the rude settee, and pausing to imprint a kiss upon her pale brow, Franz Edou hastened to obey the call of the actress. rom his elevated position, he could see that which escaped the ob- servation of the combatants in the street. The win- dows of the houses for a bluck either way were open and blazing with light, and just then great tongues of flame burst forth from an unoccupied dwelliag near by—the work of some incendiary profiting by the disturbance and seeking an opportunity to plun- der, With plenty of light, Franz Edouin saw a body of cavalrymen dashing forward to the spot of contes their sabers and gaudy accouterments shining an ene at their head, urging them on, rode “ into the house and attend to your ebild,” he Eomichbooks.co