Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 104 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

a a ‘Montezuma, the Merciless. 7 a SEE rtals of the assembly recom, care the tall orm abd dark, fascixating face of the Monte Prince, ; Every man in that Junta knew Don Felipe Cosala, and the faces of two-third. of them grew a shade paler. As he advanced to the center of the chamber, the Senor Jose Rozales sprung again to his feet. ‘ Aha! you have come as the messenger from Vera Cruz,” and there was a sneer in his tone, ‘‘ [ have, Senor Rozales, and like the raven, my presence here foretells ill-tidings,” calmly suid Don Felipe. ‘Death generally follows your footsteps, senor; you have come to tell us that the Casile San Juan de Uloa is without a Governor?” “Tt is true, Senor Rozales; a second hemor- chage from the wound caused the death of the Governor Guarena.” : * And his young bride?” kindly said Rozales, “*Ts inconsolable, senores.” “In her eyes he waseverything; in the eyes of | Mexico he was nothing—so let him Your business here is ended, Senor ‘* No, Senor Rozales.” ass away. osala?’”’ ** Ah yes; the one who killed the Governor— | what of him?” ‘Ts in a cell in the castle, Senor Rozales,” ‘Hal the challenge passed was an open and fair one; why imprison him?” angrily said the nor Rozales. “The insult was open, the challenge and ac- | ceptance fair; but Don Merlino ran his sword } through the body of his Eacellenza, without warning; the Governor Guarena was unarmed.” ‘‘ Ah! say youso? Then he must die.” — “Yes, senor, or live in a dungeon the re- | mainder of his days; that were better than kill- ing him.” ‘Of that the next Governor of the Castile must decide; now, Senor Cosala, adios.” But the Monte Prince moved not; he smiled pleasantly, and said in his soft, musical tones: ‘*Senores, I have come to name the successor of the Governor Guarena.” Had a thunderbolt fallen into that gilded | room, smashing to atoms the mirrors, chande- } liers and gold-inlaid furniture, it could not have created a wilder excitement. Every Mexican was upon his feet—every eye turned upon the Monte Prine, who per- fect] m in their midst. “You! You! Who are you, that you dare tactate to the Junta of Mexico? Senor Jose Rozales hurled the words from his mouth as bret, Si they were intended to annihilate the gambler; but they did not change the smile on the dark, calm face, or cause a muscle to quiver. He merely answered in the most even and matter-of-fact tomes: “I am Don Felipe Cosala, senores, a secret t of the Government of Mexico, and the one who named Colonel Vistal Guarena for the Governorship of the castle, San Juan de Uloa.” ‘You are a nameless adventurer!” yelled Senor Rozales. ; The Monte Prince bowed, his hand upon his breast; but there came through his white teeth the quick reply: ‘*'"he more dishonor wu Junta when I have the wi enforce my demand.” or a few moments there was the wildest ex- citement, and angry voices in denunciation, and voices in entreaty, were heard, while the Monte’ Prince stood in silence, calmly surveying the wild scene his words had caused. n this honorable and the power to —— <-- ES ES = = ' forward to meet them, ah Tn silence the vote was cast--each man voting with blanched face and trembling hand. Then they were taken from the golden casket by Senor Rozales, and two others, passing through the hands of each, When the last vote was coumted the noble orator, Rozales, uttered a cry of anguish, and bowing his head, walked with tottering step friom the gilded chamber. The Monte Prince had won. CHAPTER VIII. BURIED ALIVE. Wien Merle was led away by the Captain of the (tuard, and securely guarded between two ! files «of soldiers, he felt a chill come over his | heart, for he knew that a prisoner entering that gloomy pile must leave hope behind. Alonjyy the whole length of a corridor his guards led him, until they halted at a massive gateway, through which they were admitted by a stern-looking keeper, armed to the teeth. Turning into a passage-way, faintly lighted by iron lamps set in niches in the wall, they ually descended until they came to a cen- ral hall or nave, from which various tunnels, for they were nothing more, led off in different ‘directions. The mouths, or entrances, to these stone pas- ‘sages, radiating from this point, wereall open, excepting one; before this was a heavy iron door, which the “ unlocked rE Srey peck. Into this the iy passed, an en began descend a ‘che staltere , of half a hundred steps, at the bottom of which was a long, nar- row avenue, dimly lighted by a lamp that burn- ed with sickly luster, as if despairing to pierce that gloomy recess with artificial light. Here an old man, almost a giant in size, came -dozen heavy iron keys at his leathern girdle. ‘A prisoner, good Lamas, for your accursed tier of cells; he goes in the water dungeon,” said the officer of the guard The man turned a look upon Merle, examin- ing him hay sag 8 from head to foot; but there was no pity in his look—it was as stony as the walls with which they were surrounded. “$0 be it, Senor Capitan; he goes in Dungeon Number One,” queRty said the jailer. “Tt is a good thing to be number one, Lamas, and l.advise you to look out for number one, for if he :esca our life will be the forfeit,” said the captain of the guard, perpetrating a coarse joke, Maclean advice, Senor Capitan, for no one ever escapes from here unless Deatn opens the _ doors,” grimly said the jailer, x —<—- + At length the Junta divided off in little groups | of two and three each; but two men stood alone, Senor Jose Rozales and the Monte Prince. ‘* Senores!” All started at the ringing voice. ‘You heard this man’s demand? Return to your seats and let us see what power he holds éver us.” The members silently obeyed. “Now, Senor Spy; name your friend for the exalted office of Governor of the Castle,” and the Senor Rozales bent his searching eyes upon the Monte Prince. ) Perfectly unmoved, and in a voice that never wave came the answer: ‘T seek the office, senores, for myself?" Once more did the words of the Monte Prince create a mad scene of excitement, and several hands went into their bosoms as though to draw forth a blade and strike the offender dead. But, geste there came a calm over all, and once more the Senor Rozales spoke, but his voice had lost its trumpet ring, it was low and hasky with suppressed passion: ‘“Senores, Don Felipe Cosala has demanded that he receive the appointment of Governor and Colonel Commandant of the Castle San Juan de Uloa. Such an honor can only be bestowed upon him by a two-third voice of our august unta, ‘Let us take that vote and decide whether he go at once to the lowest dungeon in that castle, for his arrogance and insulting demand, or foes there as the Governor of that noble old fort- ress! ; “If the former, his puriskmert will be Just; the latter--ther Ged ae’p sfexico, when her ers are falléd 20 7." ‘‘ Here is Number One, senor; enter!” and he Bae the narrow iron door, and motioned to erle to step within. Quickly he obeyed, glancing around him to see what the jailer’s lamp would reveal. “T am no wild beast to be ironed inaeungeon like this,” said Merle, for the first. time showing any emotion. You must be more dangerous than a wild beast, senor, to be put here,” answered the a [ will die here,” and Merle shuddered at the damp walls, the close smell of the dungeon, and oak of the waters heard against the outer walls. ‘* Poco a poco, senor,” (little by little, sir) was the answer of the jailer. And if was no wonder that the unfortunate prisoner shuddered at the cell that was to in- close him within its stony arms—a room of ten feet square, hight and width, and lighted by a crevice, rather than a window, in the ceiling, and Faeyr which the brightness of day alone could penetrate, for it was cut sorengs many feet of solid masonry. Upon one side of the wall was a wooden bench, upon which lay a pallet of moss; a stool for a seat, a stone pitcher, a bucket and a table constituted the furniture of the room; no, not all the furniture, as fas- tened to the babi huge staples, were two lon chains, ornamen at the end by anklets o steel, and in both of these rings were human bones, showing that the prisoner, whoever he had been, had died in chains, for the remainder of the skeleton was stretched upon the floor. ‘You have a skeleton in your closet, senor,” oie wd captain of the guard, with a light ‘Locos y ninos digon la verdad,” (Children ag? 29 speak the truth,) was the quick retort of Merle. Ji To be ironed, Senor Capitan ?” asked the er. “Of course, both ankles,” angrily said the Mexican officer, not liking the supinnenesl laugh of some of his men at Merle’s reply to him. The dry bones were shaken out of the anklets, a key on the jailer’s girdle was found to open them, and Merle was chained to the wall ou add#os,” and the away, and was fol- as i. wit hoa I by: bid ca of the guar omed by the jailer. A moment after their footsteps died away, and Merle was left alone with his thoaghts— left in that dismal dungeon, for aught he knew, to die there. Rattling his chains movagely, a8 if even that sound were music to bis ears, he groaned alow; ® ———————————_—_ **Oh, God in heaven! J am buried alive J” In bitter anguish that long night passed on the poor prisoner standing upright in bis tracks, his brain dizzy, his heart throbbing, and hig fiesh burning with the intensity of his emo- tions. At length, after what seemed ages, a h light stole adown the long, patmow broth tteiten served as a window, and Merle knew that the dawn had come. No sound now greeted his ears, for there was; no wind blowing, and a calm rested upon the waters, and the waves never broke heavily against the outer walls of his cell, except when there was a fresh breeze, Still standing, the prisoner glanced around him a Po dim light, but he could see little to cheer him; the darkness was too great there to see any thing, eh ing where the light from the window fell, and, as if to remind him of his fate, the skull lay just where the dull rays fell upon it, and there seemed upon the bony face a hideous grin at the thought that another must suffer as he had done. At length there came the creak of a key in the door, and the jailer a bearing a clay dish, a loaf of bread and a jar of water. “Your day’s allowance, senor: olla podri- da,” (a kind of stew—a favorite dish in Mexico), **eood bread and fresh water.” ‘I need no food, jailer,” sternly said Merle, ‘You will soon, senor. Let me knock the irons off your wrists. Your arms at least can be free.” “ Gracias! Now tell me how long must J remain here?” The jailer made no reply; he silently pointed to the grinning skull. ** You mean I must die here?” The jailer crossed the cell to the wide bench that served as a bed; this he turned over, and his lantern glared upon a hideous sight—a sight that made even Merle, strong as was his nerve, start, for fully a dozen skeletons lay there in a m ass, ‘‘T swept these up when I brought him here. Pll put him with them, if you say so,” and the jailer put his foot upon the skull in the center of the room. “This is a perfect Golgotha. Do you wish me to understand that all these men died here?” ‘* Yes, senor.” ** And what crimes did they commit?” “Quien sabe ?” (who knows?) ‘* How long since this poor wretch died?” ** Five y senor.” ** How long have you been jailer here?” *‘ Thirty years, senor.” ‘*And these men have died during your guardianship?” ‘* Yes, senor; those twelve and this one.” **Men do rot live very ao here in your Mexican Climate, jailer,” said Merle, grimly. _“ Presto maduso, presto podride, senor, (soon ripe soon rotten), was the too suggestive reply ot the man. ‘** And you expect to die here as jailer?” ‘““No, senor, 1 am laying up treasures upon earth to be happy as soon as I have a comfort- able sum, rep] the man. ‘*Ha! you love gold, then?’ ** Si, senor, it is my life.” ‘* Suppose I were to tell you that Tam not ambitious for my bones to mingle with those al- ready here, what would you say, old man?’ “ Remuda de pasturage haze bizerros gordos, senor,” (change of pasture makes fat calves), answered the old man, evasively. ‘Here, is not this a pleasanter sound than the clinking of my chains?’ and Merle rattled several pieces of gold together.” “Tt is sweet music, senor.” ‘*T am glad se appreciate it, for Iam not a beggar though in a dungeon, and I would have you aid me,” said Merle, eagerly. The jailer made no reply, but flashed his light into the prisoner’s face, as if to see there what he might press from him asa golden souvenir, should he aid him. “Will gold tempt you, jailer?’ asked Merle. ‘‘No ay cerradura si es de oro la ganzua senor,” (there is no lock but a golden key will open it), was the answer of the old man, whose habit seemed to be to reply in quaint sentences or applicable Spanish proverbs. “Ha! say you so? Then here is gold,” and Merle took froma belt he wore a number of golden onzas. ‘‘Here, grease your locks with these, and when I am free you shall have more; but has- ten, for already I feel benumbed in this black, damp hole, and I will die if I stay here long.” The man dropped the gold in his pocket, and at the remark of Merle, gave a shrug of his shoulder, while he replied: ‘* El corazon manda las carnes, senor, (the heart bears up the body). ‘True, and if other men have lived here for seme a a { can, for [have not a craven heart; but still, amigo, 1 wish you to aid me from here as soon as you can, for I have much to attend to that needs my immediate pres- ence, ‘Tt is far from here to sunlight, senor: but I will do all that I can,” and the jailer turned away, and Merle was agmin alone—alone unti S ECO MMINCG ONO) (E(@)