Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 104 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

26 —_———— ‘*Fully ten thousand, senor.” ‘Very well, 1 will place that sum in your hands; then I will give you one hundred thou- sand dollars in cas , upon condition you leave New Orleans forever, seek another land, and en- deavor to lead a lifeof honor—not living beyond ai means; but you must go as soon as you ave buried your mother, and you must leave your father to his fate. ‘*Do you accept my terms?” ‘*] do, senor.’ ‘* Bnough; send me the letters by Valik, and as soon as your mother is in her grave—come to me for the money I promised you.” The cup of misery was being quaffed to the bitter dregs. CHAPTER XXIX, ESTELLE GRENVILLE PLAYS FOR A HIGH STAKE, EsTELLE GRENVILLE sat in her sumptuous rooms, lost in thought. She had a week’s respite ere she yielded her home to the auctioneer’s hammer, and she was peepee planning how that bitter pill that must swallowed, nolens volens, could be made sugar-coated. At last an idea struck her; that is it was a determination to make use of anidea which she had been harboring for several days—in fact ever since her return from the Chateau @ Es- pagne. With Estelle to decide was to act, and she arose at once, made an exquisite toilet, putting on a dress she had never yet worn, vailed her- self securely from prying eyes, and walked out. She soon called a passing cabriolet, and told the coachman where to drive her. He drew up at the private entrance of the Montezuma mansion. A servant stood in attendance, and she sent in her card, for the billionaire was at home. ‘‘Madame Grenville, be seated. This is an honor, indeed, and I was intending to visit you as soon as some callers I had departed,” and Montezuma led the way into an inner room. ‘Now, my dear madame, tell me to what fortunate circumstance do I owe the honor of your visit?” _ Estelle was charmed—the great man had never been so gracious before to her; she did not know that it was his nature to lead one who was destined to walk over a precipice by a path of flowers, to make the end more biting. ‘* Senor Montezuma, Iam bold in thus seek- ing you; but you know the proverb—Necessity knows no law,” and Estelle threw her sweetest look into her glorious eyes. ‘* How can I serve you, madame?’ and Monte- zuma smiled as sweetly as had the woman. ‘* I will tell you, senor,” and hope arose high in her heart “T will tell you, Senor Montezuma. You muy * my husband and myself are beggars now? Montezuma’s eyes flashed over the superb dress of velvet and silk, then at the solitaire eardrops, and “ee> upon the jeweled hand, upon which trembled, like a great drop of frozen blood, the ruby he had given. There were also other jewels there. She understood that look and colored, while she said quickly: ‘Senor, these will have to go to buy us a little <= hl you refuse my request,” she add- archly. ‘Lady, you cannot miss your fine. dresses, as of course you intend going in mourning for your brother.” It was a home thrust; Wilber Sebastian had been a month dead and she was dressed as a princess, in emerald green. ‘Senor, my wardrobe is making now for my per brother—the mourning goods are in the ands of my modiste ; this is the first time I have been out since our return from your love- ly home, and, as I said, 1 come now from dire necessity.” ‘‘How can I serve you, lady?’ again asked Montezuma. ‘Senor, you can save me from ruin—utter, crushing ruin that faces me. Ah! Senor Monte- zama, I love riches, and what gold will bring. [ am a mere butterfly. Take from me my wealth, and I am but a groveling worm. ‘Senor, you are worth, it is said, hundreds and hundreds of millions of dollars, and I beg but for a sum as a loan, that you throw away daily in charities, upon the undeserving paupers who flock the streets, and dare look us arise: cratsin the face.” ‘*A cat may look at a king, lady.” ‘Yes, but in admiration; those poverty- stricken wretches look at us with envy and hatred.” “I fear we are the ones who have set them the example, by showing what we feel toward them; but, ame Grenville, what sum do you desire?” Estelle’s heart gave one great throb of joy, and she almost whispered: ‘“*Bnough to.clear our home, senor, and give me an income to live upon.” “And Captain Grenville?” Montezuma, the Merci (grr dill SD meee CT ere OE CU. -— 0 ss a. ———“‘“_—C—* “Oh, I include him in speaking of myself.” “There is how much on your home, ‘Grenville?’ ‘‘ The captain indorsed for those scamps—” “Your brother was a member of that firm, madame.” Again Estelle colored deeply; but it was in- tensely becoming to her. ‘‘T forgot myself, in my distress. He indors- ed for Abercrombie & Company for a quarter of a million—that was just the value of all he has in real] estate.” ‘*Indeed! he was a millionaire, some years ago, I have heard.” ‘Yes, but the captain will live fast—will drink the most costly wines, and he—” ‘Must gamble and lose heavily.” * Again a blush, and the beautiful eyes droop- ‘‘ And you wish a quarter of a million dollars on loan, Mrs. Grenville?’ ‘‘- Yes, senor—one third of that would clear our mansion, and the interest on the balance would allow us to live, for our other PYCRSty, brings ina good rental,” and Estelle spoke of her- self as our and us, since the question of Monte- zuma about her husband. ‘*Mrs. Sebastian, I will tell you what I will do,” and Montezuma’s tones were low and soft, and his eyes were dangerously expressive. ‘*T have heard that you were fond of a game of cards, and I also play at times; sol will stake half a million against one thing.” ‘* Name it, senor,” said the delighted woman, ‘* Your word.” ‘*My word, senor?’ ‘Yes, madame; if you will promise to grant me a favor, upon your sacred word of honor, if “ber lose in the game we play. I will stake alf a million against that promise.” “ If [win I get the money?’ ‘Yes, madame.” ‘* Tf Llose I am to grant you a favor?” ‘Yes, madame, any favor Task of you.” The woman’s face turned of a scarlet hue; but she answered prom ef ** 1 agree, senor, he favor what it may.” Montezuma bowed, turned and touched a gold ll. Valik at once a ed. ‘‘ Bring me ecards here; also half a million dol- lars in Bauk of England notes.” ‘** Ah, senor, are we to play now?” ‘‘- Yes, madame; life is intensely uncertain. Witness the death of your brother, and your friends Alden and Bethune. We will play now, for there is no time like the present.” ‘¢ And your waiting friends?” ‘‘Can remain waiting friends; there is wine before them, and that is what ee came for.” At this moment Valik returned, bringing the cards and the money. 7 ‘* Now some iced champagne, and some bon- bons, Valik.” A table was cleared, the refreshments brought and placed upon them, and the two seated them- selves, the cards before them, the bank-notes at one side. The man was cool and smiling; the woman was flushed, trembling and nervous. ‘*-You shuffle and deal, madame. I give you the chances.” The woman gave him a quick glance; she was almost tempted to throw up the game. The cards were distributed and the game be- gan—progressed—ended. Montezuma had won. «1 have lost my half-million; now I am ready to keep my word,” she said, recklessly. She was ready to lose her soul then, if gold would but weigh down the balance, and she be lieved that it would. ‘*T shall hold you to your promise, madame, Are you a member of the church of Rome?” | ‘‘T am, senor,” and the woman looked sur- prised ‘‘Then it cannot be such a fearful sacrifice for you to follow that which your creed teaches.” ‘*T do not understand, Senor Montezuma,” stammered the beautiful woman. ‘** It teaches,” and the tone was pry. et soft, ‘‘ it teaches, ‘Poverty, Chastity and Obedience’ to one about to take the vail.” Estelle Grenville turned deadly pale, and she cried in almost terror, as she caught those eyes of liquid fire fixed upon her: ‘‘ But I do not intend to take the vail, senor.” ‘*Pardon me, lady; but you do.” She tried to rise to her feet, but her limbs were unequal to the effort, and she could but gaze in horror at the man before her. “ Your promise, madame,” * And you wish me to leave the gay world— to become a nun?” “It is my wish, madame.” “*Oh, senor, you are surely not in earnest?” ‘‘T am in deadly earnest, madame,” “ How can my leaving the world and becom- ing a recluse benefit you, Senor Montezuma?” ‘I shall have gained my end—you will have id your debt to me—kept your word.” “Never!” and the woman was on her feet, res eyes blazing. ontezuma smiléd. “Is this your decision, madame?’ ' LT LL tess sss tsetse ~ssssSSSSSSSsSSSS less. " . “Tt is! No man shall make a fool of me, evga Montezuma of Mexico.” ““Tt is to keep you from making a fool of yous self, and others, that { wish you away from the world.” “And I say I defy you.” “ Poor little Seg moth—to allow the flame to singe your pretty wings.’ “Senor Montezuma, I will not allow you te speak of me so.” ** Again I ask, madame, will you keep your word?” “And again I say, never !” Montezuma touched the gold bell. ‘* 'Valik, bring me the papers tied with biwe ribbon in my desk.” In five minutes the slave placed them in his hands, “Mrs. Grenville, you have refused to pa your debt to me—that is, to keep your word; now I shall force you to do so.” Estelle started in spite of herself, and yet she drew her form up and turned upon her perse- cutor with flashing eyes. ‘““Mrs, Grenville, do you know what. the pen- alty is pot Sorat another’s name to a check?” - Estelle Grenville dropped back in her seat, her face as pale as death. ‘Mrs. Grenville,” continued the merciless man, “is: forging your only crime?” and he glanced at an open letter he held in his hand. ‘‘Senor Montezuma, I am on my knees to you are me!” he beautiful woman dropped down_ before him, her hands uplifted, her face pallid and im ploring. ‘*Mrs. Grenville, arise!” Silently she obeyed. ‘*Mrs. Grenville, in three days I shall call at the Convent des Ursulines, and 1 shell ask there for you, under the name you take as a recluse; if yoy are not there, the papers I hold shall be ublished to the world, and you shall go to the tate’s Prison for forgery. ‘Tt is useless for you to attempt to break the chain I have encircled you with; it is of gold.” **Oh, God! I am lost.” ‘You are predecrng lost if you do not obey. You shail under the eyes of well-paid spies from this moment, and you shall take the vail ‘*Or what, senor?’ came from between tha blue lips. ‘Or you shall take your own life,” The woman’s head was drooped, and soba shook her frame; but there was no mercy in the marble face before her. At length she Icoked up, and she read there that her doom was sealed—she was powerless to break the chains that bound Ler, “Senor,” and she spoke slowly and distinctly, “vou are in the form of an angel; but your heart is the heart of a devil.” Monteguma bestowed upon her his most fas- cinating smile, while he added: ‘‘It is such as you, Estelle Grenville, that ake devils of men; but, remember—in three ays. d Can I see you to your carriage, lady?” ‘nd he offered his arm. Estelle touched it lightly, sprung into her carriage, and drove home—a ruined, broken- hearted woman. Three days after, true to his word, Montezu- ma drove up to the Convent des Ursulines, was shown into the sacred edifice by the mother su- rioress, who received from the billionaire a andsome sum for the holy institution; and, in return, he learned that Estelle, under the name of Seur Rosalie, had taken the vail of Perpetual Sisterhood. And Seeur Rosalie ? In her retirement from the world she learned who it was had placed his iron hand upon her heart, to forever shut outits joy. | CHAPTER XXX. THE MILLS OF THE GODS STILL GRINDING. I WILL now return to the vessels that com prised two-thirds of the fleet of Montezuma-- the Launcelot and the Zulah, The Launcelot made a rapid run, and Ay drea Angelos disposed of the Spanish bonds ay a. fair figure, and started upon bis return te New Orleans, where he arrived, to find that the rival bankers had gone down in gloom, and that adversity still trod close upon their heels: for the trial of Rosal Abercrombie had come off the very day that the woman he had cruelly de- ceived, Helen Brainard, had died. In that. trial] the prisoner, proud as had been his name, great as had been his wealth, had been proven guilty of the charges against him— the proofs and testimony, the written confes- sion of his wife, taken from the bank, where it bad lain for years, had been beyond doubt, and the jury had returned their verdict—Guilty of mu had followed, hung on the er in the first degree.” Then the sentence of the judge Rosal Abercrombie was to gallows. But-he had one favor to ask the judge—that the day should be appointed as soon as ble. This was granted, and little eno grant adoomed man. One week after his sentence, (E@) JOO in cS (G (E(@) ty