Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 100 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

—— a The French Spy. 3 “By Icaven! you will meet retribution for | the rooms in the house of M. Epont, No. — Rue | have mistaken the noise for else than it was: the this, Philip Do Vin.” De Vin paid no attention. the Trench maid, and shook one of his fore- finzers meaningly. To tuis she replied with a nod; and sceming satisfied, he followed the sol- diers and their prisoner down the stairs. **TIa}” he exclaimed, as they emerged upon tho street, *‘ whence came that shot?’ He looked toward | de Lafayette; as other affairs than the chat of | reen-room associates engrossed her, and her | ife had become centered in a purpose revived | aiter it had lain in her heart for eighteen years, burning now with double ardor. And many who missed her most wondered at | her strange seclusion; because she was Helen Varela, and London managers were ready to i For just then a pistol banged loucly, as if | importune her with offers of enormous salary. from the roof of the conciergerie. “Forward!” he ordered, sharply ; and as he | about a year, and closer s 18 strode along in the rear of the file, he mumbled; ** So, now, | have the old father safely removed, What is to hinder my possessing Osalind—the tening on the pavement at his feet. ‘* Parbleu! I shall be shot, presently, by that rogue inambush. Avancer !” ramp, tramp, tramp went the soldiery. De contents of the epistles, and .was not surprised Vin kept nigh his subordinates, in fear of anoth- | that they caused Helen Varcla much agitation, er shot; and they disappeared in the darkness. The vicinity of the three houses—that of | months. | These three missives which we find her reading rare and handsome Osalind? Ha!—again!” for | on thenightof April —had reached her at about a second pistol-shot broke the silence of the | sunset, by special messenger of the parties send- Light, and a buliet whistled past his ear, flat- | ing: one from Rouen, one from Versailles, one | M. | Achefort, that of M. Epont, and that of Ximo, » the Voodoo—relapsed again to its atmosphere of desertion and murk. But not for long. Hardly had the ofticer vanished with his pris. oner, when the still air was broken by the ap- penrance and clatter of a cab. It came swiftly, and dashed up to the gate in the wall before Le Bibou; itstopped with a jerk, and its door opeved with a swing and quiver as if kicked from the inside. As the driver sprung from bis box, and as two figures moved hurriedly amid the shacows— these two carrying a third,a man who was bound hand and foot—a single cry issued on the night, a cry that was half curse, savage, curd- ling, cut short by a palm that smacked sudden an want over the lips. Ina gate in the wall shut to with a rickety clang. In a few minutes a light appeared at one of the windows—a brilliant red light that stream- ed over the wall and aslant the street; but it went out almost as soon as it was displayed. As the red light vanished, a black-garbed fe- male ran out of the house owned by M. Epont. She sped across to the gate, and shook its bars furiously. This female was followed by anoth- er, who also ran and who called, guardedly: oii) ful, madame; careful, or you will spoil There was a second stream of light from the owlish front of Le Bibou. It poured out of a window in the fourth stery—a blue, ghastly fepammen ane was gone as suddenly as the first ght. CHAPTER [1. THE HOUSE OF M, EPONT. In the fourth story front or attic chamber, in the conciergerie of M. Epont—that is, the room corresponding exactly with and next to the studio of Dorlan Ray—another scene was pro- gressing at the moment when Philip De Vin pre- sented his unwelcome person before the artist and his child. A woman was striding rapidly to and fro across the carpet, greatly excited, and absorbed intensely with three letters—one in each hand and one between each hand—which she held and rustled under ber gaze, as if endeavoring to read the three simultaneously, all very im- portant, all the cause of her rest!essuess, woman of over forty years, but one of those samples of her sex who appear to develop more wonderfully at prime age, and whose figure had accumulated rather than lost its attractive sym- hus aloof was her life, close to herself, for till during the past six But the letters. within Paris itself, Annette stood at a far side of the apartment, quietly watching her mistress. She knew. the 06 ome eee We look at. the letters. The first, as follows: ‘** Rouen, April —. | *“ HELEN VARCLA! | “TJ am happy to say I have succeeded. Victor _ Bramont was at Havre four days ago—yesterday at reath the cab drove off, and the heavy | hour. metry. Tall, majestic—half English, half Span- — ish; a female of weli-set beauty—her dark, keen eyes, her full yet rigid lips, the poise of the head, the firmmess of step, all denoting deter- mined character and experience with the world to teach the mind its true strength. Such, in brief, was Helen Varcla, the actress; well known on the English and Parisian boards; had received boaquets at Berlin and applause at Dresden; was notorious and popular. After a brief season in London she hed en- giddy scenes of Rouen. He is now gone. By a letter which I ab- stracted from his pocket, while mong in a crowd, you may infer that his destination is Paris. Vi re; “* Parts, Dec. — 18—. | ‘*** Victor Bramont will find his prey in Paris, at No. — Rue de Lafayette. 2; oe ‘*This may be what you want. I hope so. And, alwaitiug your further orders, lam SIGNO.”” | The second, as follows: “* VERSAILLES, April —. ‘““HreLen VARCLA: | “ After great difficulty I send you this intelli- | gence, for you may know it is neither easy to leave | or to enter Paris, since the Official Journal of the | Commarane demanded a reign of terror and closed | the gates. “The point: Franz Edouin left here to day, by means and in a disguise known only to himself, for Paris. My messenger may not precede mr > a single SIGNO.”’ And the third, as follows: **Panis, 4P. M. ee — ‘HELEN VARCLA! “This is to advise you that Victor Bramont has. | reached Paris; that Franz Edouin has reached | Faris. Watch the windows. If Victor Bramont | comes first—a red light; if Franz Edouin—a blue light.. ON ae The last signed with three stars, as if indicat- | ing that the writer might be identical with_ the. | author of the communication to Victor Bra- mont informing him that his “ prey” was iu Paris, and which was purloined by the scribbler of the first missive to the actress—who signed. himself, or herself, whichever it was, ‘* SIGNO,” the same as he or she of the second letter dated at Versailles. And these, mutually, had aroused the excite- | ment which possessed Helen Varcla, as she | paced the carvet of the attic chamber—a hooded | mantle thrown over her szoulders, as though | about to enter the street. | pay meg she refolded the letters and thrust | them into her pocket. | ‘‘Come, Annette; to the,roof. 1 fear_some- | thing has happened. It is high time for Xlmo’s | signal. The delay chafes me, Come,” Passing into the adjoining apartment, she | ascended a ladder which led to a low roof, and | at the top of the loft—it wasa roof that slanted, vet not so much as to prevent a person walking — or crawling on it—a trap-door opening directly | at the peak, accessible by a second ladder, | wheee there. was an extensive view by day- | ight. | Annette followed, producing a small but pow- erful spy-glass from her pocket. She climbed to the top of the ladder and looked. forth—upon Paris: bloody, downfallen Paris, over whose lots, strifes and ruin, hung a | glimmering haze, like a luminous ether of death | in the grim skies. | gaged in Paris—that was two years P ag to | this night of her introduction to the rea during the past year her alternate coming and go- ing to and from the attic rooms—\ hich she bad rented in the house of M. Epont immediately upon her arrival in Paris two years previous— were movements of mystery to all save her maid, Annette, who was left in charge of the -rocms during the spasmodic disappearance of her mistress. That Helen Varcla should have engaged er; and | apacimants in a section of the city so disagree- | a close to the vitiated and scummy localities of Belleville and Vilette—when she had money, eminence, entree, and could have selected a fashionable hotel for herself—was a matter of ossip to r professionals, who, despite rer fame and the value of her acquaintance, of the actress, and she shook the ladder spite- | were disinclined to visit her since ber retiiement | from the stage, which occurred several months | his!” ore the hoistin, of the red flag on Place de la For this very reason Helen Vascla retained ) Helen Varcla, grasping one of the lower | rounds, inquired: | ** Do you see anything, Annette?” ** Yes; a light.’ ‘‘Ha! what color, Annette?—the color?” | ‘It is in the west. I think something must | be burning near the Arc de Triomphe.” | ‘Pah! not thatway. Look again.” wae I see another light toward the Hotel de ille— ‘Do _ you wish to anger me?’ interrupted Helen Varcla. “I care little if the Hotel de Ville is in ashes, or the Champs Elysees rivered . in fire and corpses. Look across the street— oi Le Bibou. Do you see a light that way? if ‘‘ No, madame; all is darkness.” An impatient exclamation broke from the lips — fully. “Hark Annette! Ithought I heard a pistol.” “Andi. It must have on in the rooms of Monsieur Ray, the artist,” ‘*My curses on Dorlan Ray and all that is The shot they heard was that fired by the artist at the French officer, It sounded faintly through the walls, so iaintiy that they ee - - l e or in the direction of Le | Achefort, fall or crash of a picture, perchance. Nor was this the first time, since dark, that Heleu Varcla and her maid had ascended to the trap-door in the peak of the roof, Thrice had they gone there, and thrice returned, disap- pointed, to the room below, after a long and vain watch for the expected signal, which, we know—by the contents of the third letter, and Helen’s interrogation while the maid swept the horizon with her spy-glass—was to be ei hera red or a blue light displayed from the windows\ Bibou. ‘** What do you see now, Annette?” after a few moments. os A very Gim light, madame, from over the way.’ ‘* Ah! Le Bibou.” **The upper part of the window is open; but I can make out nothing save the black painted walls and a skeleton’s head, and a moving shadow—it moves slowly, madame, like some- body idly walking up and down, and whom I cannot catch a glimpse of.” “On the street, east or west, Annette!—is any “‘Notasoul. It is like the grave. Ah! there is another light,” eee light!” echoed the actress, breath- essly. Her suspense was overpowering as. she stood at the feet of the maid, looking up in the gl asking questions; the hand on the ladder-ro —its fingers glistening with gems—worked ner- vously on the wood, as if she griped something hateful and which she desired to crush. ‘*People are coming from the house of M. next door,” said Annette. ‘* The light from the hall plays on the wall and gate of Le Bibou and on the row of trees by the wall.— Oh, madame! I am hurt!” and with the last, she sunk suddenly down the ladder as if smitten with pain and fright. A pistol had cracked—the first.explosion that attracted De Vin, when he emerged from. the house of M. Achefort with his prisoner—and in- stantaneously the small telescope flew from An- nette’s hands, far outward, as if stricken from. her grasp by a lightning bolt. Showing that whoever fired the shot had aim- ed at the maid, and the aim was nigh fatal. ‘* Annette! are you struck?” exclaimed Helen Varela, supporting the girl. ‘‘No, I am only frightened. But the bullet was close, for I felt its wind. I think it came from the roof of Le Bibou—” ‘* Fired by Zabach, no doubt. XI]mo told | to watch for the signal, but that did not mean we might spy through her windows with a tele- scope. Zabach is a good guard. He could easil have killed you—he only warned you. Wew not tempt him further. But those people who are leaving the house of M. Achefort?—” ‘** Soldiers, madame: for I hear the rattle of bayonets, the clank of a sword, and their meas- ured tread.” ‘*Soldiers! Will we never be rid of this van- dal military in Paris? 1 am sick of seeing uni- formed rogues and epauletted assassins. Look ecg now, Annette; you need not fear Za- ach. As Annette obeyed, their ears were saluted by ancther whip-like crack, another pistol re- port; but this time its source was the adjoining. roof, not a dozen feet from the trap, and she saw a man stretching over the eaves, looking after those who were departing from the house of M. Achefort. She drew back in alarm, ‘*Macame! there is a man on the next roof. He fired at the people below. And now, as I watch him, he is crawling upward. He seems to be coming this way— , “In with you, then, quickly. Hark! is not that the noise of a cab ¢ agar , “Yes. Acab. Iseeit. It is almost—now it. is here. It stops at Le Bibou. Now it is off. again. Did you hear that cry, madame?” Helen Varcla was gone from her maid’s side almost before the latter had finished her speech. She had heerd the cry. It was a peculiar one coming?” _ woice—desperate, angry, furious; and she had heard the same cry eighteen years before. Recognizing the accent, she half-echoed it with her own lips, but her tone was one of exultant triumph. Hurriedly descending to her rooms, thence to the lower halli—jerking the hood over her head as she. went—she flung wide the door, darted st the astonished keeper—and as she reached he street, the red transient ligbt, mentioned in our previous chapter, shone at one of the win- dows of Le Bibou, “Tt is Victor Bramont!” sbe exclaimed, no- ticing the light as she ran toward the gate in the wall opprsite. ‘“‘ He is trapped first; Frans Edouin next!”—and here she reached the gate and shook its bars as wehaveseen, “ Open! Evils melt these irons. I cannot wait! I must be inside—” “Careful, madame; careful, or you will spoil all!” admonished Annette, who was close behind her mistress. ‘ Here is the bell. We will ring it, as Xlmo bade us do. But I much weg, : @ were JOO <€oim cS € (E(@) /