Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 100 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

’ 2 property, on Rue de Lafayette, where rents were cheap; having few acquaintances and amply satisfied with their mutual affection, besides a tolerably substantial patronage. We look in on them at or about the hour of ten, this night of April—when their labors for the day were well done, and the evening repast was over. Osalind saton a hassock beside the knees of Dorlan Ray. His locks were silvered, though fifty years had scarce passed over them; struggle and trial, perhaps, had set those wrinkles in face. An apparently aged man; and she—just nineteen, giorious in youth’s wealth of charms, whose yo and loveliness would have honored a rone. A cloud was on the brow of the artist; sad- ness and deep thought were imprinted in the face of the beautiful Osalind. One of his strong arms encircled her, holding her as if from some lurking danger in that room of easels, pallets, brushes, paints and half-finished pictures. Anon he glanced at the clock on the mantile- piece, and down at the fair head by his knee; and with every glance a sigh broke from his lips, while he muttered: ‘How slow time drags—how very, very slow. The French Spy. aside, bowing, they heard some one else ap- | “That must be proved, Monsieur Ray.” proaching along the hallway with hard, firm “To whom?” strides, accompanied by the ring of spurs and “““Whom’! Who but Raoul Rigault? It is the clank of a saber on the floor. | useless to tell me that you have not left your Whiter paled the face of Osalind, but her | studio for three days; you were seen yesterday, deep blue eyes flashed steadily. nageips He ate _you were heard to shout ‘ Vivela’— But no the countenance of the artist, as he wai for | matter; there are witnesses, and Iam one. You the man he dreaded yet would defy—Victor | see, Monsieur Ray, times are changed. Ha! ha! Bramont—and the reader will see him shortly, | ha!—quite changed.” besides arriving at an explanation of why his; ‘ Raoul Rigault!” echoed the artist; and at advent should cast a chill upon the soul of Dor- | mention of the name, and at sound of the mock- lan Ray. _ ing laugh, he felt a shiver in every nerve. But it was not Victor Bramont! Stronger men than Dorlan Ray have shud- A military officer stood before them, hat | dered at the name of Raoul Rigault. raised and lips smiling. A Frenchman about | But a change came over the artist. His eyes years of age, rather handsome, dashing, | lighted desperately, his cheeks burned; and the wearing numerous badges on a showy uniform. | pistol he carried for Victor Bramont leaped as Lucky for Victor Bramont that it was not he. | by magic to his hand. The hand of the artist—the one he held in his ‘Vile plotter! notso well for you after all. om Sees the pistol with hammer cocked, | Take that, Philip De Vin, and let the bloody and with its bullet he meant to defy the power | Commune doits worst!” of his yeti _ | Quick as was the movement, De Vin was not We say this officer was handsome; but his | off his guard. His light saber flashed from its were treacherous, his smile was of | sheath, and the pistol went whirling through the | — bullet thudding into the ceiling above em. ‘* Farbleu! be careful,” he ejaculated, as his loo hat dangerous kind which covers a nature fraught with slyness, deceit and spleen. His voice, when he spoke—like his eyes as they I thirst for this meeting now; and for years 1 kled—contained something to repel and cre- | stout wrist circled the saber in a marvelous have been frightened by its prospect. He ate instant dislike. stroke. be punctual; he never failed to carry out a ‘* Ah! good-evening, Monsieur Ray; you did “* And now I am at your throat!” cried Ray threat. Can I be calm’—can | keep my fingers | not expect me?” madly; and would have throttled De Vin, had from his throut, and my grip from his carcass? ‘*Philip De Vin!” he not sprung beyond reach. How slow ”— clock—‘*‘ he me strength —beast, vulture, devil-of-flesh! another glance at the lazily-tickin said ‘at half-past ten.’ Heaven len to meet and defy him. Osalind?’ “Yes, father.” “Can you be brave?” “Brave as you, dear father. I have néver seen, and do not yet know how to fear the wretch whom you expect to come here—this Victor Bramont.” “True, you never saw him—a ‘black sheep,’ outcast from his family, just the tile to crawl and pry at secrets. He stood alongside our crib seventeen yvars ago, Osalind,” the ast in a short breath. ‘** And you have not seen him since?” ‘No. But he promised to find me, at half- past ten, on the night of your nineteenth birth- day—to-night. I have told you the rest.” He foided her closer to him, and smoothed back the golden hair from her forehead. ‘*Oh! father,” cricd Osalind, looking up into his troubled face, ‘* you have not told me allthe rest. In what lies the power of this man?—~ that hisname, his expected presence has driven away your old-time smile, and made you talk and act unlike the parent I once knew, unlike the noble Dorlan Ray whose brush has worked well for'fame. So changed! I have seen you grow sick at your easel—the canvas has lost its charm; you are haggard and worn as if with disease; you do not go out and mingle as you once did—” ‘It is unsafe for me to be abroad in times like these, Osalind. The streets of Paris are reeking with blood; the bullet and sword are laying people dead in their tracks. Of what were you thinking when I spoke to you, my child?” ‘* Of Franz Edouin,” she replied, and with ut- terance of the name a rich color suffused her cheeks to the temples. For a brief space the artist’s eyes gag. ‘‘ Noble Franz!” he exclaimed. ‘‘I love him, Osalind. Would that he could be here now. Franz is at Versailles. Paris has fallen once— she must fall again, then rise; and in that hour Franz shall be your husband andmy son. Mine? Where may I be? I feel evil taeodionr for me even now, Osalind.” “Don’t talk so, father. We have but one evil to fear—Victor Bramont. Franz will soon come to claim me, for he remembers the promise I ve him when he left Paris. Victor Bramont Pout only shadow—this man of mystery and power. You say that he wishes me to wed him —he, a villain, libertine and outcast. You say in case I refuse him, his heel may crush you and his machinations destroy me. If this is so, and there is such fear of him, how can you defy him, when his vengeance may be worse than his de- mands? Oh! father, to give up Franz Edouin —whuat sound was that? I thought I heard a noise in the entryway.” ‘‘ Hush!’ he commanded, eee ** was not that the rumble of a chaise’ They listened. A bell tinkled below, then a. second, presently a third. Footsteps on the stairs in the hallway. A low rap came at the door; and Dorlan Ray, vith eyes distended and bent u the ’ uissed, between his clenched teeth: ‘‘Itis he, Osalind be brave. Fear not ye iy child. You shall see how I mean to defy this Victor Bramont,” and one of his hands, its fingers working and coiling nervously, slipped into bis breast to the butt of a pistol. The clock on the mantlepiece lacked but a few minutes of 10:30. s — the rap for admittance, and louder 1an a . “Come in!” he said, terribly calm, The messenger of the concierge. ° “ Voila! un gentilhomme ici pour vous.” And as the messenger spoke, and he stepped | ‘* Beware, Monsieur L’Artiste! you anger me. Look at this!” He flung open the door and itt his hands, A squad of six soldiers appeared as if by con- jury, ranging themselves against the wall, ‘dressing ” before the door, ‘** Will you see this? Resist and I shall order them to shoot! Surrender, Monsieur Ray—and now you will answer for firing on an officer of the battalion of the 5th Arrondissement!” ** Vive la Commune !” howled the soldiers in chorus. The artist’s face relaxed its almost fierceness; relief was evident in him when he saw that it was riot the hated Victor Bramont. But the change in his features was to a frown of annoy- ance; and as he uttered the name of the visitor, he betrayed, by his accent, that Philip De Vin was hardly jess distasteful than Victor Bramont was feared. Osalind regarded him uneasily; but, save a start anda mechanical motion of the golden- haired head, she gave him no greeting. “T have done myself the honor,” said De Vin, still ee as he entered and closed the door. | A moment he stared at Philip De Vin, at the **T hope I do not intrude?” _gilinting bayonets in the hall, at the scowling ‘* Philip De Vin was always an intruder here,” | visages of the soldiery; his fury froze within | | i —— — —— EE him, and his face blanched. réturned Dorlan Ray, knitting his brows. deed, in earnest. “Ah! Monsieur Ray, ‘was,’ but not ‘is.’ Times have changed wonderfully since the loss Earnest and villainous. of our Napoleon. The Commune hasdiscovered | For the plot was plain: to tear the father from in me something better than a common soldier the child, and thus deprive her of shelter from —Iam happy tosay. I have some power now, | a scoundrel’s importunities. mon ami, as you willsee. It is many months We see that the Frenchman was, or had been, since I called to see you. The last time, you or- | a suitor for the hand of the artist’s daughter. dered me from your rooms—you, the painter, | How his suit was received is evident in the fact who does not own 2,000 francs in the world— | that, some months previous, Dorlan Ray had ou ordered me from the house of M. Achefort. | expelled him from the conciergerie of M. Ache- it notso? Ha!ha! ha! but I laugh—it was | fort, and forbade him looking at, speaking to, oo fae But what for?—because I love Osalind | or even thinking of lovely Osalind. and would marry her. Ciel/ I could not well | This, then, caused the arrest of Dorlan Ray, help it. How weer 8 I have been. Now, I | through the instigation, and to serve the ends of dare come again,”’—the evil smile deepening till | Philip De Vin, whose influence at head-quarters his teeth glistened between his lips—‘tand I | was great, as may be discovered in the course of De Vin was, in- have business with Monsieur Ray; 1 havea mes- for the beautiful Osalind.” ‘Your business with me; state it quickly, and e. As for ind—” ‘He can have no affairs with me, father,” broke in the young gir]. “As you please, mademoiselle,” with a mock bow. ‘But when you know the nature of the business and the messuge-- Here, Monsieur Ray, | is what brings me to you,”—extending a seale hment—“‘ and this to you, ma jolie Osalind,” | our narrative. , “You will surrender, Monsieur Ray?—or shall we have a little trouble?” Ray sunk to his knees beside the still form on the lounge. ‘“*Qsalind! Osalind!” he groaned; ‘may God protect you now, for I am > pra = id De Vin clapped his hands again, and at the signal a petite French maid ran forward from the stairs, where she had been wasting his call. ‘Give her good care,” he said to the maid, —reaching her something very small, something ; and jerking a thumb toward the tableau at the that glittered and shone as it fell from his | lounge; then aloud: ‘‘ Come, Monsieur Ray, the fingers into her involuntarily outstretched palm. | Prefect of Police wants to see you.” e first was an official document; the last a ring—a very ccstly ring, set with diamonds of rare Coanty and worth. He grinned peculiar] on the pair as he delivered the articles. A throe, keen, biting and terrible, iced the oung girl’s veins as this ring of diamonds glit- in her hand; her eyes fastened incredu- lously on the jewel. Ray had torn —_ the missive given him. In one second he had perused the contents, in another he crunched it ee in his grasp, and i on Philip De Vin. ‘ t ce ‘‘Stay, monsieur. Look; For, tn the brief space scanned the parchment, De Vin passed quickly to Osalind’s side, and whispered something in her ear. What he whispered was this: ld, the ring of diamonds is returned. 1 fiow it, that your gay lover, fhe, ie’ eithen dead de faithless—for “theminderstanding when you gave it our child.” ‘‘ One—my father!” faintly interrupted Osa- lind, and almost instantly swooned at his feet. “* Look; your child,” said De Vin, pointing to her prostrate form. | Ray sprung forward and grasped her in his | | bleu!~I shali have him dragged out by the y | Vin, nor the groans of Dorlan Ra | was stilled like unto death, by sight of the ring uring which Ray | Vho, now, isin the path of Philip De | “Oh, Osalind! My poor Osalind!” eried the miserable father. But Osalind heard neither the order of De Her heart of diamonds, which plainly seemed to say, in mgt thus returned to her: ‘* Franz Edouin is no more to you!” ‘*Come, Monsieur Ray.” *“No, no, no! My child!” “She will be cared for by this girl?’ then mentally: ‘‘and hy me.” Then aloud again, _ sternly, as he tapped the artist on the shoulder: ‘“*Come, Usay, and move quickly !” The smile, the ironically-affable mien had vanished. The emissary of Raoul Rigault lev- eled his saber toward the door with a motion of command, and his brows knit darkly. Then he ee one foot on the carpet. | “Your hat—vour cape—come |!” | ‘‘ But it is so sudden,” protested Ray, implor- ingly. *‘‘Give me till to-morrow with my child. See: she is unconscions. To wake and find me gone, no doubt to my death by the order of your fiend-master, Raoul Rigault—oh! what horror, es me — peers i C ‘I obey the order of my superior. Come!” “ Philip De Vin!—” ihe 2 “Tf Monsieur Ray does not move fast—par Osalind!—my child! What is it?--speak!” | neck!” snarled De Vin, losing patience. her to a lounge, he turned again! He if) And cere upon De i his voice-wavering with passion. ‘Tt is well, Philip De Vin—well for your vil- lainous schemes. This order for my arrest is your Sn its charges are lies. Bwt there is a mistake, I swear, by Heaven! I have not left my studio for three days—” | Menaced child, and ' off by the soldiers. gave a glance, a sign, to his vassals, and two of these made as if to enter and lay hold upon the pleading prisoner. ““ Stop. ee 2 your minions—I will go!” One fond. glance at his unconscious and Dorlan Ray was marched Eomicooo S : - u (