Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 104 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

12 geon to die; he had reported him dead, in place of another prisoner who had died, and then had brought him to the deserted tier where he then was, The —, in which he stood was not a cell. It had evidently been intended to be made such at some time, but it was an excavation in the rock and sand, and extended back many feet, while it was ten paces in width. But it had been used as a cell for the unfor- tunate man who had died there, and who lay on a cot, by which the jailer now stood trembling. There was a table by the side of the cot, and upon it a few bottles of medicine, some delicate food, a lamp and a few books. Evidently the dead prisoner had been as kindly cared for as the circumstances would allow. And the prisoner? | man, worn away to a skeleton, and with a face aristocratic and intelligent. Merle remembered the name—Don Arenas Moralez, a conspirator, who had been imprison- ed, years before. | that there was to see,and which I have described, Merle took in at a hasty glance, and his decision was at once made, and advancin into the cavernous-looking chamber, he h spoken as he did. ‘* Who are you?” gasped the jailer. ‘IT have heard your words, senor jailer; I am he whom Felipe Cosala walled up in the water dungeon to die,” was Merle’s calm reply. *‘A prisoner, then?” “Yes, I am known as Number One of the Deep Sea Dungeons. I slew Governor Vistal Guarena anon and I was seized and brought here to “T have heard of you. It was you that drove a knife through the hand of Governor Cosala, when he was the Monte Prince.” “It was. My duel with Guarena was caused by that circumstance.” “But, in the name of the Virgin! hov you here?” suddenly cried the jailer “TI will tell you. I am not f' tamely, without any effort >: and I was hb ag my wavy ander the castle when I struck this deserted vier of cells—the old store room at the end of the corridor caving in upon me.” ‘*Holy Jesu! You surprise me.” “T tell you the truth, for I fear not to trust you with my secret—as I hold yours,” The jailer turned white again but he answer- ne an to die ..-protection, Se fs is my duty, senor, to deliver you at once e “Your duty, yes, but not your desire.” ‘*T must do so, senor.” ** Hold on, senor! You see before you a des- rate and determined man, who would sacri- ce a score, ay, a hundred lives to free himself from these walls. I have heard that you placed that poor man, Don Moralez, here to work his way out, and that he died ere he completed his task, So do not prate to me of your duty, for I would kill you, and then work my way liberty as that dead man attempted. “If ever you called a guard, and I was taken, I know your secret, and if I went back to a dun- geon, you would go to your death. “T ‘have gold and jewels, many thousand worth; take them, and as Don Moralez k the place of another man, so metamor- phose me into some one else. ** What say you, senor jailer?’ It was evident that Merle held the winning hand; but the jailer replied, doggedly: “Were I to leave you here, it would take you years to work to the outer wall.” ‘“*So be it; I am content—unless you pass me out of the castle.” ~ ible!” almost shrieked the jailer. ‘‘Do ou think I should have allowed that man to die ere, if I could have aided him to escape? ‘* Ah, no, no! It would be death to both of us to make the attempt.” “Tam willing to risk it,” was the calm re- ly, ae You know not what you ask, senor. If I ascend from here to the tier above, the guard examines me critically, and you would have a score of ds and a dozen officers to pass ere hs sad the castle entrance. You know not e : “So be it; Iwill remain here and work my way unde d to the outer world — my bored I will pay in advance, and I ts gh RD to furnish me the best you can,” and Merle smiled as he spoke of his ‘Will you accept of my terms, senor jailer?” asked Merle, as the man still hesitated. ‘It is my only alternative. Here, in the cells of the castle, and with a thousand soldiers with- in call, an escaped prisoner dictates terms toa jailer; it is wonderful, senor.” ‘Tt is out of the usual routine, jailer, I ad- mit; but it isnevertheless strangely true. Come, let me pay you, and—” ** And what, senor?” ‘*Show you your old friend, Lamas.” - senor, we are ruined! Lamas here?” and the man started back. ‘Yes, but he is not dangerous. It seems that the old store-room was where he hid the trea- sures, of which he robbed the prisoners, I hay- Montezuma, the Merciless. — ing been one of his victims, and he came there awhile since to get his ill-gotten gold.” ““Holy Mother! now I know what became of the key to this tier. I missed it long since, and was forced to have another made.” “Yes, he was an old thief, but I did not sup- he would steal iron as well as gold and ewels,” **Senor, he wanted a hiding-place for his gains; we jailers have our rooms regularly in- spected you know; but, where is Lamas?” “Come!” and Merle led the way to the store- ‘vie , ety open the door, and the jailer start- ck. ** Dead!” “‘Even so. He came here, and it was his life or mine. Here is the treasure he laid up on earth; you are his heir,” and Merle handed the box of riches to the jailer, whose eyes flashed avariciously, for, like most of Adam’s descen- dants, he was a worshiper of gold. “Senor jailer, yonder is where I worked my way through. me day you can have the rare mended and lay the damage upon the ra ‘* Now I will bear Lamas to the cell where we left Don Moralez, and I will bury the two bodies there, while you go after some little things to make me as comfortable as circumstances will permit. “Then show me something of the geography of the castle, and how I am to work, and pledge yourself to bring me food whenever you can, and that isall I willask. There, you have your pay; now let us to work.” The jailer made no effort to resist the iran will of Merle, and that night the poor prisoner slept more comfortably than he had for over two years, and in his heart was a great joy, for Py gs now hopeful that the end was near at and. If he had but known what lay before him, even his brave heart would have cowered from the work; but fortunately, the scales that con- ceal the future are never lifted from the eyes of us poor mortals, and hope, the heart’s life-pre- server, keeps us from si g with despair. CHAPTER XIV FRANCISCO DOLORES SEES AN APPARITION. I WILL now—with an author’s secret keys that enable him to unlock iron doors, and penetrate the darkest dungeons—lead my reader to an- other cell, in that solid old pile of misery, the Castle San Juan de Uloa, or that was, at the time of which I write, the scene of many a devilish crime, and secret nation, equal to the dark deeds of the Castle El Moro of Havana, the old Tower of London, the Bastile of France and the rock-and-iron prisons of Madrid and Cadiz in old Spain and Lisbon, whose stone floors were dyed with innocent blood; ay, equal- ing in misery and red deeds the scenes enacted in the carcels of Rome, Naples and Venice in the olden time, and not forgotten now, and out- Heroding the barbarities and cruelties of the Turk, the Algerine and the Moor. In that other cell, at the end one of the tier above where Merle had been confined, sat a man, his bead bowed in his bands, and bis whole form trembling with some deep emotion that overpowered him. His cell was a large one, fully fifteen feet square, and there were two narrow em . one in the northern, the other in the eastern wall, to give light to the chamber. — Against the south wall was a cot, with a fair- ly comfortable mattress upon it, and several old serapes for covering, while a table and a chair, besides the one upon which the prisoner was seated, constituted the furnishing of the ll. For creature comforts there was an iron er a number of books, and ink-horn and some q pens, with a few dishes and a teapot. If there were other articles of use they were not visible. The man who sat, as though bowed down in priet, was bent with age, for fully seventy years 1ad frosted his hair as white as snow, and it fell below his waist in. thin, straggling locks, while his beard, also white, reached to the floor of coarse cloth as he bent over. He was attired in a cassock much worn, ed by a belt of leather, an his feet were bare, while a rosary of gold beads Lung from his girdle, and a crucifix of the same pave ous metal was nded around his neck y a massive chain of silver. Presently the head was raised and the face was revealed—a bold brow, black eyes, still be piercing, and the stamp of intellect upon it. In a trembling voice he muttered, speaking Italian, which he spoke as his mother-tongue: “A causa persa, parole assai.” (When the cause is lost there is enough of words.) ; Then to his lips came an impatient ejaculation, and rising, with an effort, he crossed toward his cot and drew it from the wall. “Too late! too late!” he murmured, as he bent down, and drew from the wall a piece of cloth, that displayed the massive stone carved out fully two feet square, and going back into the massive masonry fully six feet. in carefully coiled u several stone-chise manufactured out of Se Se Within the aperture was a rope of thread , & small bag of buckskin, and a much-worn mallet, the round legs of his cot, which had been cut down in hight some six inches for the purpose of making these wooden | that?” hammers. “Thi long, heart-breaking years within these cruel!walls, aud placed here for a crime of he I ra innocent pe’ the babe unborn, ‘ Ay, thirty years of weary toil by day and night—of heart-yearnings to Ee m Self of my fetgers, and hunt the world over to tell him that T was not false to my trust—that the Deity so willed I was not to return to him, but come here to languish in prison. * But they could not force my tongue to speak —to betray him who saved my life—him wien I loved as a brother. “Oh, thou God that rulest on high, give me strength to go from here that I may find him!” The old man dropped down on his knees with ps cagpeg hamds, and thus remained for a mo- ment. Then he stooped over and ey y.cten led inte the opening in the rocks, and tapped lightly with a chisel in front of him. ‘“‘A mere crust, not the sixteenth of an inch, now divides me from the bright sunshine with- out; but, alas! after thirty years of toil, cutting my way through this cruel wall, I have not the strength to fly—my poor old hands are too numb to hold the rope, my arms too weak to sup- port my weight, and I would fall a hundred feet; to the earth below. : “No, I must yet remain here, and in my cell I must die.” Slowly he crept back into his cell and again pushed his bed against the open:ng in tbe wall, and tottering with weakness sunk down upon it. ‘Yes, here I must die—alone, uncared for— no, not wholly uncared for, as the jailer has been kind to me, and I will call down the bles- sing of the church upon his head. He has given me little comforts as he could, and, contrary to orders, has allowed me ks to read, and a lamp. As he has been kind to those under him, 90 will God bless his life. | “T feel strangely sad to-night, and on the mor- row, when good Pablo brings my food, I will give into his hands the papers I have written, I will give him the jewels I have as his own, if he will only pledge himself to seek him and give him my written story of my sufferings, If he is dead then shall he seek his son, for upon him will the inheritance fall—an imperial inherit ance—a monarch’s wealth. _ ‘<T feel that the boy yet lives, though I dread that the father isdead. His life was too danger- ous to last long; but if both are dead then shall the church have the treasure, and worthy Pablo shall be made rich. ; ‘* Luckily, I have written all in those secret characters known to few, and which I taught the wee boy when he could first lisp words; he will recall them sufficiently to read my instruc. tions and find the gy and if both be dead then Padre Fausto, to whom Pablo must bear them, will soon decipher the text. ‘My old blood is stirred strangely to-night. No, no, hope has died in my heart; I dare not hope; but, oh! that I should lose now—now, after I have struggled with the perseverance of a Sy- barite for thirty long years—struggled, to fail in the end with my hand upon the mane as I was about to mount to success, ‘Oh, Felipe Cosala, to you I owe all this; but how I have injured or wronged you I canno tell. The curse of God upon you, Felipe Cosala, wherever you be. ; The lips ceased their utterances, and as the sun. sinkin per the horizon, east a ray of gold into the cell, the old man’s face brightened, and he stretched forth his arms appealingly as he Jay upon his cot, and cried, in trembling tones: ‘“‘Oh, thou golden smile of sunlight, do not leave me here to die! ‘¢ Darkness will follow your foing— the dark- ness of death, and I pray you linger yet awhile to gladden my old eyes. Ha! what sound is With a strength, hardly to be e one so infirm, the old man arose to his feet nad listened. Then to his ears came the muffled sound of “Strange! what can it mean? In all the ears that I bave been here no sound like that _ have I heard,” and the prisoner endeavored to catch from whence the sound came, for that the _blows were struck strangely near him he well _ knew. | ‘Pablo is never here at this hour; he comes but inthemorning. Ha! can it be another poor wretch like me striking for bis freedom?” Chug! chug! chug: The blows came steadily, rapidly, nearer and _ blows upon some soft substance. nearer. | ** But that sound comes not from the wall— but whence?” The old prisoner sunk down upon his kn his form trembling, his head bent in the a tude of listening. | “‘It is! It must be some poor wretch work: ENOOKS <eom (E@)