Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 104 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

Montezuma, the Merciless. Wand, and it was its keen blade that had pierced the heart of the form then lying prone upon the r. iping the blade upon the rich window dra- pery, the youth returned it to the scabbard, and laced the three treasures securely away in his m. Then, he seized from a chair a small valise, and with a cry, of mingled fright and remorse, fed from the house into the deserted streets, ~ pi 4 behind him the victim of the jewel-hilt- * The opal had brought death to Merton Ains- e. He had sown the wind and reaped the whir!l- wind, CHAPTER II. HUSH MONEY. Wrz Merton Ainslie lay upon the earpet of his floor, the blood slog hy oozing from the deep wound in his breast, Wilber Sebastian was pac- ing to and fro, the full length of hislarge cham- ber in the Hotel Saint Louis... ‘‘ Well, [laid my heart at her feet to-night, and if that accursed Ainslie had not.come in as he did— If I had him on shipboard I would pace Nets him so that he never would cross my path rain. " Well, to-morrow I know my destiny—ay, to-day, for the midnight hour has : P hin she said she would give me my answer to-day and it must be yea; for 1 have struggled har an¢ sinned much to win the haughty beauty, ‘* Yet, I do not like the way that Ainslie look- ed when he came in the cafe to-night; it was altSeether too joyous an expression he wore to suit me; his joy might prove my sorrow. | “Well, Di to bed. and bide the alternativa.” And Mildred Monteith—what of her? She had calmly listened to the avowal of love from the lips of Wilber Sebastian, a story he had often told her before, but not for the year past, for, with assumed delicacy he had curbed impatience until Merle should have been for- gotten. He had begged his sister to excuse him as an escort to the opera, secured her a substitute, for Captain Grenville was away, and bad gone to see Mildred ere the stream of visitors began to flock in, for the parlors were nightly thronged with admirers of the beauty and heiress. _ He had found her alone, and in impassioned words told of his love, that had grown with years, since she was a mere child, and increased as her wealth and beauty had; but the latter eircumstance he Ni 1d A to himself. . Mildred looked kindly upon him, and there was a tender glarice in her expressive eves : but, ere she could reply, and while he still alt be- fore her in his most graceful attitude, there was a step in the hall. “‘T will answer you to-morrow, Captain Se- bastian,” she had quietly said, and then arose to greet. Merton Ainslie. “ Blast that fellow! He’s cut in ahead of me,” was what Merton Ainslie thought, as he entered the room. “‘Curses upon that bore! he has ruined all,” was the thought of Wilber Sebastian. eir words were far different. “Sebastian, my dear fellow, I am glad to see you.” sechn < a old fellow; came near dr in to dine with you to-day; wish I had toe So do J, as our destination for the evening was the same.” Wilber Sebastian left early, pleading an en- 5 gereoam and Mildred heard again the “ ald, ° story. But, inopportuie visitors seemed the order of that evening, and Lucien Bethune and Ofis Al- den dropping in, Merton Ainslie was put off until the morrow for the answer he so longed for, yet hoped and dreaded to hear. Consigning the lieutenant and the doctor to the bottomless pit, Merton Ainslie soon left and play a e of roulette, in a fashionable Gam- ling Hell, to see how his luck went. He won heavily, and with no foreboding of ye left wy seg oe ve chikad way to ie ufe Saint Louis, where he an hour in Grtoicng to then go home to his death; his ma- ar ho ‘Ded, received #88 Is of n e who had. received these avowals o undying affection, wore mo smile of joy as she went to hor room that night, sf | The lips that she had longed to hear tell their love for her were far away; he whom she had loved with all the intensity of her nature was on well. I I must f the Tsu must marry, one of these days, though Eg no love to géve him who us be my Husband. , lle urges it, and so does Arthur; but they both wish me to marry tian, “ He is a b tet man than I thought him, and he has been as kind as a brother could be to me, et_I do not lové him, Had I never met Merle— Oh, God! why did his name pass my lips? on Well, Wilber — weighs al} in ) ce . Merton 6, Beba t” ‘were; and Ainslie was Ainslie ° his | friend, and—and—but must I allow the love I held for an outlaw to decide me in my choice of a husband? ‘‘ Both men are gay, I know; but then, all men live a lie, it, seems, _Ainslie is. rich, very rich, ’tis said, and cannot have his eye upon my oo aaa besides, when he was poor he worked hard, ‘‘ Sebastian is doubtless well off; but he is a banker, and they are but legalized gamblers, and my fortune might be swept away in one speculation. “ Silly girl I am; I love no man; must m somebody; have a number of fine offers—two better than the others, and will decide it by a game of chance to-morrow; let me see, I will tike the dice of my backgammon-board, throw them twice, first for Sebastian, second for Ains- lie, and the one getting the larger number wins Mildred Monteith and her fortune, but not her love.” The maiden whom the world said was happy, with a shudder rung her bell for Louise, and crept into her downy bed, a great dull pain at her heart. re ThaMp wear a careless smile, e words may breathe the very soul of light- ness; But the hurt heart must deeply feel the while That life hath lost, forever lost its brightness,” Thus was it with Miidred Monteith; she had buried her love, and her love was her life, in the ave with the honor of the one whom she had dolized, and whom the world said was an out- law. **Oh, Miss Mildred!” The maiden had been awake until the ‘‘ wee sma’ hours,” thinking, and she wearily unclosed at eyes as her maid, Eouise, stood by her bed- side. ‘* Well?’ ‘Mr. Ainslie has been murdered!” ‘‘Murdered! Merton Ainslie murdered?’ and with white face Mildred sat up in. bed. "Yes, miss; he was found, by his butler this morning, lying dead in his room, a deep knife- thrust in his side. He had evidently just come home when he was killed, for he his hat and gloves on. ‘“‘ Nothing has been stolen, and his boy, Hope, is missing, and some say he killed him, but no one knows.” Mildred made no reply, but sunk back upon her pillows, “ Are you going te get up, Miss Mildred?” ‘* What, time is it, Louise?” ** Nine o’clock, miss.” ‘‘'Then come back at eleven.” The maid left the room, and Mildred mur- ‘There is no choice now; Fate says I am to be Mrs. Wilber Sebastian. Poor Merton Ains- lie! Who can have been his foe?” That. evening Wilber. Sebastian called, and the story of the murder was discussed, the young banker, by a great effort only, disguising is joy at the fate of his rival. But he said, sadly: “Poor Ainslie! a splendid fellow, though a trifle wild, “But the strangest thing, is, nothing was mis- ai, ha his house, and his watch and pocket- book, with a roll of bills just won at roulette were not disturbed, so that robbery was not the reason for the murder.” “The youth, Hope I_ believe he was called, has not been found?” asked Mildred. ‘‘No, he is suspected, but he seemed devoted to Ainslie, and some say as nothing is known of the boy, that he was idnapped, and Merton was killed in defending him; but the strangest of all is, that Ainslie is not rich, for, excepting his house, and furniture, his horses and car- riages, he has but four thousand in bank, “Tf he has more no one knows of what it con- sists, and he was believed to have been worth half a million; what he leaves a distant relative will inherit. ‘*Can I call for you, Miss Mildred, to attend the funeral?” “Yes, I will go with you.” That night Mildred Monteith laid her head upon her pillow, the promised wife of Wilber Sebastian, Six months after she became his wife, and the aan envied the groom—the women envied the e. e world did not see the grave of a lost love her heart, any more than it saw the dark secret in the heart of Wilber Sebaatian. The day after the honeymoon was ended Wil- ber Sebast@an received half-a-doaen “ callers” in his private offiee. They came on. ‘‘ business,” they sadd, and he felt. that they spoke the truth. Two of them came together—ex-Lieutenant Otis, Alden, and Pe pateenn Lucien Bethune, formerly of the navy; the one a “‘ young man *bout town,” living ’twas said,.on his “prize money.” received when in service; the other a practitigmer of medicine, so bis ségm read, _, Both of these stranded officers were ‘‘ ground swells,” whose Yenens had an unpleasant way Sy slipping the cable, if not anehored down go They left the private offiee with a check eaeh = S | Ann a Northern bank—for ten theasand dol rs. The boatswain and several seamen, the ma- | wines, and the cook of the Sea Serpent schooner followed after, and went out smiling, with gold for ballast. Then Wilber Sebastian wrote checks to others of his crew who had ‘‘sworn falsely,” and the:e were mailed to their addresses, “There, that is done! a.cursed unpleasant duty, and I am glad it is over with.” Poor fool! when a man pays “‘ hush money’ his troubles have just begun! These ‘‘ business” transactions made a Jarge hole in Wilber Sebastian’s private bank account; but then, as the husband of the helress.of the Monteiths, his credit was “gilt edge” on change. CHAPTER IIL FIDELE’S FATEH A YEAR passed away—a year a wife had Mal- dred been. Her face was just as beautiful, with a shadow upon it.in repose, it might be, but ever bright when before the gaze of others. ) lf Wilber Sebastian had ruled on shipboard, he found that he could not govern his own way in. the. home circle, and. his, cowardly, nature was soon under the control of his haughty wife. Her, property he had in full control; »with business she would not trouble herself, but he soon found that he had married a golden idol to worship, not one to return his love. He had remonstrated at her coldness toward him, and she had smilingly answered: “T told you I did not love you; that I mar- ried you because it was fashionable to marry. - ** You have all my wealth in your keeping—I an. your wife now, Wilber, dear, what more do you want?’ ‘*Some show, of affection; you are made of marble, Mildred.” ** No, iron say for marble is too easily broken; but I am no silly sentimental school-girl, to be dying with love, Don’t be foolish, Wilber.” This was their wedded life when not before the world’s eye. A year a wife, and Mildred sat alone in her room. ‘* And this is married life? Would te Heaven I had remained as 1 was and died an old maid ** “Mildred Monteith’ would have looked better on my tombstone than ‘ Mildred, relict of Cap- tain Wilber Sebastian.’ ““ How little do we know the mysteries and miseries that tombstones hide! hat is it, Louise?” ) ‘‘ A card for you, miss,” and the pretty ener ‘ed’s “ies a placed a piece of pasteboard in n ‘* Louis Chandeleur! where have I met him, or heard his name?” she said, musingly, glane- ing at the card. ‘Ah! I have heard poor Ainslie speak of him. I will come right down, Louise.” Ten minutes after she swept into the parlor— the same in which, nearly years before Merton Ainslie had sat, and sworn to win the fair young mistress of Monteith mansion—swept into the parlor looking like a princesa.,. Louis Chandeleur arosé to greet her—Lonis Chandeleur, well-dressed, bronzed-faced, bet a gentleman, yet his eyes were deep-set amd he bad a sad, haggard look. ‘* Mrs. Sebastiah, I believe.” ‘* Yes, sir; do I not reeall in. you a friend of Mr. Ainslie?” she said, pleasantly. “Mrs. Sebastian, it is of Merton Ainslie thes I would speak to you.” ‘‘ His was a sad fate, poor fellow.” “‘ Mrs. Sebastian, his fate was a sad one; yet, and one says it, whom he ever befri whe ever loved him as a brother—a sad fate, yet a deserved one!” “Mr. Chandeleur, you do not seem to be a man to make an idle assertion—why have you come to to me against Merton Ainslie?” said Mildred, with some show of anger. ‘‘l have come, madame, to tell you the truth —l have come with a great,sorrow in my. heart to tell you of Merton Ainslie!” returned Louis, earnest P: , “Tf I can confer a favor by listening, Mr: Chandeleur, I will do so; but Mr. Ainslie was nothing, to. me,” is Mildred, indifferently. “You mistake, . Sebastian, pardon me for saying so.. Lcome to you with no idle tale of my grief, or to traduce one to whom I owe more than to any other man. ““T come. to you, madame, to tell — that Merton. Ainslie’s life was a lie, and that you were his intended. victim. “Tt isa mystery as to who was his murderer, but I know, and I desire that you listen to what ihave tosay, for it deeply concerns you, Mrs. Mildred, saw that Louis Chandeleur was in deadly earnest, and she signified her consent to hear what he had to tell, her face slightly chang: ing color when he told her knew who taken‘the life of Merton Aina u, I was botn a gen , as ° kn ge hen I tell th you know w ou that was Pierre Ghandeleur: but we wate not Eomicbooks