Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 106 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

a | er ee mr een ar tae ee ee a ee ee Shamus } O’Brien. ruption, but not more so than were the intrud-.| for my own satisfaction: Maggie Moore, whose | child is this?” ers by the scene which met their eyes. In the center of the room, in a large easy- chair, sat the heiress, Maggie Moore, and upon her lap was a beautiful babe, an infant some six months old! By the side of the chair knelt the Goose-girl with extended arms, playing with the chubb infant; a large covered-basket near by, reveal- cd how the babe had been conveyed into the house, andin the background stood Tom Pep- per, an amused expression upon his face. The sudden appearance of the armed and evi- dently hostile force produced a startling im- pression. Pepper stared in amazement, astonished but. not alarmed. The Goose-girl jumped to her feet, while the heiress clutched the babe in her lap as though she feared that danger threatened it. But, the man whom the intruders expected to see, the bold Irishman, Shamus O’Brien, was—to use the old expression—conspicuous by his absence. Carefully as the snare had been aaa and sprung, it had not caught the rebel. Mr. O’Brien was not to the fore. Mrs. O’Glory was the first to recover the use of her voice. ‘*Oho! Do me eyes desave me?” she screech-. ed; ‘is it a child that lsee? Oh, Maggie Moore, phat does this mane, if you pl’ase?”’ A seep crimson flush quickly covered the beautiful face of the heiress; she was terribl confused—answered not—only hugged the child tighter to her breast. t was a painful situation, for it was plain to all that they had by accident stumbled upon a secret that no one had suspected. Maggie Moore, the heiress of Kilkerran, was a mother! But, the father of the child—who was he? and was the infant born, the rightful heir to some cood name, or was it a waif and stray with only a heritage of shame? ‘‘Maggie Moore, I wouldn’t have belaved it of ye if wid me own two lookin’ eyes I had not sgen it!” the old lawyer protested. ‘‘You unfortunate girl, to disgrace your - family in this way! and to disgrace us, too! The Lord be wid you and save you, for you need it sadly!” Mrs. O’Glory cried, in righteous iadignation. ‘‘ And, what on earth is all this row about?” © the Goose-girl asked, tartly. ‘‘ And, what do you all mean by rushing into the room this way and with pistols in your hands, too?’ Smithers incontinently pocketed his immediately. ‘‘Why, { never heard of such a thing in all my life. Are you all crazy?” ‘Silence, girl! How dare you spake in this way in the prisence of your betters?’ the law- yer’s wife cried, with an angry frown, but the Goose-girl was not at all abashed, and returned © the frown with interest. ‘‘ My betters!” she answered, with a scornful — laugh. ‘‘Vll have you to know, Madam O’- Glory, that my betters are not easily found; they’re not in this room, that’s true!” be afther putting that saucy baggage out!” ‘¢ You need not trouble yourselves to put me — out!’ Kitty retorted. “lam able to walk, and I will go out of my own accord when I get ready, and I did not come here to see any of yees, either. It is Miss Moore that I am visit- ing.” he old lawyer was in a sad dilemma. He had the best of reasons for wishing to keep on good terms with the girl, for the large fortune to which she was the undoubted heir was upper- most in his mind, but as she was evidently the | ally of bis ward in this bold defiance of his Tiaben: it was necessary for him to rebuke her, but he wanted to do it as gently as possible, so | as not to give mortal offense to the girl. ‘Truth! and it is meself that is astonished at you, Kitty Sheelan!” he remarked, with a wise und sorrowful shake of the head. _ ‘‘Oh, don’t be afther troubling yourself about me!” the girl retorted, with a toss of the head. ‘* Look to home and you will find plenty to do.” ‘You saucy jade!” yelled Mrs. O’Glory, in a rage; ‘‘you ugly little trollop! For two pins I would box your ears till it made your head ring. And you, Maggie Moore, hav’n’t you the least bit of shame? Hav’n’t you a wourd to say for yerself? Oh, saicts in heaven be praised, that your old father isn’t alive this day to seo yer shame! lt would be sure to kill the ould man.” ‘‘Tt’s idle to waste words now, afther the mischief is done,” the old lawyer observed, with a bitter accent. In truth he was terribly mor- tified by the discovery that had been made, and the more so that Captain Burke was a part of the scene. Of course this would puta stop to Burke’s suit, and if the captain did not wed the heiress or in some way get hold of her money, where on earth was he to raise the funds to settle his debts? ‘‘Itis only a waste of breath +o talk now,” the lawyer continued. ‘But one ‘plug I will ask you for my own satisfaction, HOw fhat it will do the Iaste tasto of good, but ‘This is really disgraceful!” Mrs. O’Glory | spluttered, for a wonder at a loss for words, the | audacity of the girl astounding her. ‘Timothy, — } | { a ee ee me LE | gintleman; | rejoined, independently. ** Mine !” responded the Goose-girl, prompt- ly, stepping forward and taking the infant out of the arms of the heiress, and then holding it caressingly against her breast. ‘‘It is my child and I would like to know what any of you have got say about it, either?’ If a bomb-shell had suddenly descended into the room and exploded in the midst of the com- pany, it could not have produced more aston- ishment than this bold declaration. **'Your child, Goose-girl!” Mrs. O’Glory de- manded, shrilly, the first to find her voice. ‘*Your child, Kitty Sheelan!” the lawyer cried, doubtfully. And as for Burke and Smithers, they merely looked on and smiled; they believed that they understood the clever device of the girl. She had sacrificed her own good name to save her friend, for the two girls were firm friends de- spite the difference in their stations. It wasa most striking tableau, and pen can hardly do justice to the subject. The face of the heiress had lighted up at the prospect of escape opened before her, but O’Glory was enraged at the deception which was attempted to be practiced upon him, and, lawyer-like, he proceeded to cross-examine, the ‘* Your child, aha?’ he cried, with a scornful sniff of contempt. ‘‘ That is a foine story, Kitty Sheelan; but men are not quite such fools as you take us to be. Now answer me this question if you can: If this is your child, who is its father?” A dead silence followed the abruptly put question, and every eye in the room was fixed upon the Goose-girl. For a moment she hesitated to reply ; the law- yer began to chuckle in his sleeve; at the first cast he had bagged his fish. But, when in this world from the days of Adam downward did man’s wit surpass wo- man’s? ‘*Who’s its father!” repeated Kitty. ‘‘ That is what you want to know is it?” ‘‘Yes, and I’m afther thinking that it will trouble you to answer!” the lawyer observed, maliciously. -“*Oh, no, not at all. In the first place you | have no business to ask. I am no ward of yours, and you have no call to meddle in my affairs at all, but, since you are so curious, I don’t mind letting you know this once. This is my child, and there stands its father!’ and she inted to the young man who had come with er. ‘‘Tom, you villain, come forward and own your child!” Pepper advanced with a grin upon his good- natured, handsome-looking face. The plotters looked disgusted; this was a move on the part of the girl which they had not expected. ‘Aha, Mister Tom ‘Pepper, this is your ones is it?’ the old lawyer demanded, angri- Tee sir, although Kitty and I intended to keep our marriage secret, for there are family reasons that impel us to such a course; but that is nothing to you.” ‘Oh, you are carrying it on with a bould hand!” O’Glory cried, ina rage. ‘‘ Your child, eh? ‘Yes, sir, my son and heir!” **Oh, bad luck to you, Tom! Don’t fool the ou know that it is a girl!” Kitty = Ye made a grimace. ‘* Kitty, what do you want to expose me for?” he demanded, with a laughable assumption of anger. ‘‘Isn’t it the correct thing for the first- born of an Irish gentleman tobe a son? Bedad, I'll name her Thomas, anyhow.” The game was up; the attempt had failed, and nothing remained for the plotters but to re- treat as gracefully as possible. The shrewd wits of the girl had over-reached them, so there was nothing to be done but to watch and wait. The first danger had been boldly met and bravely turned aside, but active foes were at work, foes who were not discouraged by a single repulse. CHAPTER XVI. A DESPERATE MAN, As Captain Burke observed in the most placid manner to Smithers as they paced slowly away from the scene of their late discomfiture: ‘‘ The first trick is hers, but one trick don’t make a game.” ‘*Deuced well played, though, my dear fel- low,” Smithers asserted, ‘‘and as for that little Goose-girl, as they call her, she is really a genius. I feel a most decided admiration for that charming creature, and I shall have to cul- tivate her acquaintance,” Burke looked astonished at this declaration, but he was so well used to the strange whims of the eccentric Englishman, that-he did not com- went upon the observation, Already the quick brains of the recreant Irishmen had conceived p» nian whereby he hoped to entangle the prey he sought in the ] | | | ———————————* - - -_—_— -———_ — —_—_ —_—— —— — - — meshes of a web from whence escape was im- possible. In anticipation of the possibility that O’Brien might not yield peaceably, Burke had had a squad of soldiers in readiness to come forward upon signal, and with the soldiers the informer, Dooney MacDarrow, the process-server, lin- gered. He did not share in the captain’s beliet that O’Brien would tamely yield. On the con- trary, he was sure that the ‘‘ rebel” would of- fera most desperate resistance, and he fairly burned to get a chance at him so as to be able, in some slight measure, to revenge himself for the terrible beating he had received from the outlaw when masquerading in woman’s at- tire. Burke sought Dooney out at once, and, after dispatching the soldiers to their quarters, made known to the informer all that had occurred, for he had a great opinion of the low cunning of the ill-used Dooney, particularly when he was urged forward by an eager desire for ven- geance, as was the case at present. MacDarrow at once scouted the idea that the child belonged to the Goose-girl. ‘‘Shure! there has bin a love affair betune Tom Pepper and Kitty Sheelan for some time, but no marriage; I’m sartin of that. The child s Maggie Moore’s, ye kin bet yer head on it, sur, and the father is James O’Brien. It’s as plain as a pike-staff tome. They were married jist afore he had to fly the country, and they ept the marriagesaycret so that theold lawyer wouldn’t be abletokickup anyrow. The child bas bin out tonurse, somewhere, and the Goose- girl got Tom Pepper to go afther it, and that is where I was desaved, for from the little I heard I thought that it was Shamus who was coming to-night.” The explanation was reasonable, and Burke was inclined to accept it; so the two set their wits to work to devise a second scheme to en- trap O’Brien, since the first one had failed so completely. ith two such brains acting in concert, it was not long before they succeeded, and when they separated Dooney at once hurried away to commence operations, for the captain was a firm believer in the old adage of striking while the iron was hot. | Eight-and-forty hours — away before the captain made a move; but at the end of that time he surprised Miss Kitty Sheelan in a par- ticularly disagreeable manner, by walking into » her cottage one evening. He had knocked at the door; she had opened it and he had at once advanced into the room. Kitty was all alone, for the old woman and boy, who lived with her, had gone off to attend a wake in the village. The girl had recoiled as the captain advanced, more in astonishment, though, than terror, for she was a very stout-hearted little woman. ‘** Good-evening, Miss Sheelan,” Burke accost- ed, in the politest manner, removing his hat and bowing as gracefully as though he was ad- dressing the greatest lady in the land; but the girl was not in the least deceived; she knew that Burke was her bitter, deadly enemy on ac- count of the part which she had taken in be- friending the young heiress, and that a visit from him meant mischief. ‘*Good-evening, sir,” she replied, striving to appear as composed as possible, for not for the world would she have betrayed the alarm that she really felt. ‘*T trust that I find you in perfect health this evening, and I also trust that you will excuse the liberty that I have taken in calling upon you,” he observed, in the softest of voices. ‘* Certainly, sir.” ‘‘The fact is I had a little business in regard to which I wished to see you, and as I heard that you were likely to alone to-night 1 thought that it would be a favorable oppor- tunity to see you, as our interview would not be likely to be interrupted.” Not a trace of anger, not a sign of hostility in the voice of the speaker, but the girl unde well enough what he meant. She was all alone in the house: the rest of the inmates were ab- sent; the cottage was in a lonely situation—no other habitation near it; no assistance within call. He knew that she was alone and unpro- tected, and he took good care to let her know that he was acquainted with the fact. Not the least doubt in her mind that he had come on a-hostile mission, and yet she could hardly bring herself to believe that Captain Desmond Burke, of Twelve Pins, could so far forget his station as to threaten a woman. But, desperate men do desperate things, and the captain was most truly a desperate man. ‘<’Yes, sir, I am all alone,” she confessed. ‘“‘T knew itor I should not have come,” he replied, significantly. ‘‘I havesomething very important to say to you, and I do not wish our interview to be interrupted; and now, to come at once to the point—that was a a, pretty trick you played upon us, the other night.” ‘A trick!” and the blue eyes of the girl open- ed wide in wonder. ‘Yes, a trick!” ha repeated, firmly. ‘‘ Oh, don’t flatter yourself thet you deceived me, or any one of us, for that matter. We all know well enough that the qfiild is the child of Maggie ‘comie <S JOO co