Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 108 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

ae ewe —_——- — 22 —- - ——— Then the American was struck by a sudden thought, and asked: ‘*Have you known the Duke of Diamantina very long, gentlemen?” Mr. Papadoulos smiled and looked reflectively at his snuff-box. “Yes, sare. We’ave know de duke since he was born, | may say. His family have always been the patrons of our house.” “‘ Indeed?” asked Hart, eagerly. ‘‘ Did his fa- ther have dealings with youalso! Did youknow the Rajah?” Mr. Papadoulos instantly changed his whole manner. From a polite, gentle old man he be- came a sort of statue of ice, saying, as he turned away, in the dryest of voices: ‘*T vill get you your orders from the duke, sare. De asking of questions is not among them.” He sat down at his desk and began to sort among some papers, while Clarence turned erimson at his rebuff, stammering to Mr. Glyp- teros, who regarded him with equal coldness: “IT beg your pardon, but I thought that among friends—” “I guess you’re a pretty young man,” re- marked Mr. Glypteros, quietly, ‘‘and a little advice won’t harm you, Mr. Hart. When you're eatin’ a man’s bread ’tain’t the right thing to ask questions about his private af- fairs. Viltell ye this much. The duke is the richest man in these parts and holds a control- ling share in this house. Any one thet wants to git along with him had better attend to his business and keep a stilltongue. Anything else you want to ask?” ‘“‘If you please, yes,” returned Clarence, con- siderably crestfalien. ‘‘l have reason to be- lieve that Dom Gil Grabador, the duke’s stew- ard and agent, is none other than an uncle of mine. You have been in Awmerica, sir, and robably know him. Do you know whether 3 real name is Gilbert Carver or not?” Mr. Glypteros looked milder. “Do I know Dom Gil? Waal, yes, I ought to. Is his name Carver? Waal, Grabador’s Spanish for Carver, that’s certain.” ** And where is Dom Gil now?” asked Clarence, anxiously. Mr. Glypteros laughed again. ‘Dom Gil’s a mighty uncertain man to lo- cate. He might be anywhere from this reom to Gibraltar by this time.” ‘¢' Then, sir, please tell me, did you ever know one Gilbert Carver in America?” ‘*Gil Carver? Waal, rather. He was a good- for-nothing, shiftless lunatic when he left Bos- ton, he was.” ‘** And do you know what became of him, sir? You don’t know how anxious I am to find out. My poor mother has never ceased to pray for him ever since he left home.” ‘*Humph!” grunted Glypteros, and he turned away to look out tosea. ‘' She might be better mre than praying for such a loafer as j Clarence colored high, and laid his hand on the other’s shoulder. ‘*Look here, Mr. Glypteros,” he said, sharply ; ‘‘vou rebuked me justly for impertinent ques- tions just now, but please to remember that my mother’s brother is not to be called a loafer to my face. I expect an apology, sir,” mething or other seemed to tickle Mr. Glypteros mightily, for he laughed in a pecu- liar silent manner as he answered: ‘‘Geerewsalem! Do you mean you’d call me out if I didn’t?” ’ “T certainly should, sir,” cried Hart, impa- tiently. ‘‘I don’t wish to meke a disturbance before Mr. Papadoulos, but I’) not hear my aes uncle called a loafer by any man. It’s a alsehood, sir.” Mr. Papadoulos, who had been busy at the table over his papers, bere put in a word. ‘*Gentlee, gentlee, sare. Monsieur Glypteros and ] are old men and must have our say.” “Old or young, no man shall call my uncle a loafer before me,” retorted Clarence, firmly. “This gentleman shall apologize or else—” Papadoulos rose. ‘**Gentlee, sare. Pardon. Whatis de trouble? Monsieur Glypteros ’ave insult you? Impos- sible!” ‘* He called my uncle a loafer.” ** A loafair?—vat is dat?” ‘**It means an idle, good-for-nothing vaga- bond.” “Loafair? Dat is Americano, I suppose. Monsieur Glypteros, I am surprise you shonld insult dis gentleman, friend of the Duke of Dia- mantina, Dis gentleman, you call him loafair?” “No, no,” said Clarence, beginning to feel a little ashamed of his heroics. ‘‘ Not me; it was my uncle.” ‘Your uncle, sare? Vat uncle?” “‘One whom I suspect to be the same with Dom Gil Gabrador,” retorted the American, impatient at the questions. “Gilbert Carver, e said he was a loafer; and by heavens he shall apologize or fight for it.” Here Glypteros, who had_ been silent while Papadoulos took up the parable, broke in bis usual drawl: “Waal, in that case, it’s so much easier to lie than to fight that I take it all back, cunnel, Gil A — | languor possessing him. —_—_—_——_—— Ooo eS — SC > - hr -rUC Ur rc 187 rn rere Fe The Duke of Diamonds. ae saw that he had not recognized him. The dif- ference of dress (for he had worn the yacht’s uniform when last they met and now he was all in regular Frankish white) served as a disguise; and even when he gave his name neither gentle- man seemed to associate it with the Duke of Diamantina, for the baronet began to tell him the story of the duel with much bitterness against the Brazilian. Owen was too weak to say much, but once he pat up his hand and whispered: "Hush, sir; it was all fair. We must keep the secret.” Hart could not help a certain feeling of ad- miration for this young man who bore his mis- fortune so bravely, and when they reached the hotel he insisted on seeing to his comfort, dress- ing the arm himself, and finding that the care- less soldier-nurse had caused his patient much discomfort by an open place into which the dust had got. As soon as the pose captain was made com- fortable Clarence left the room and hastened to his own to dress for Mr. Papadoulos’s dinner ac- oo to engagement, and as soon ashe had donned his regulation suit of torture (in that climate) went out on the broad piazza of the eam to watch the bay and enjoy the sea -—— ee ee ——$_ SS eee ——— Carver’s a real gentleman. Is that enough? Shake hands on it.” Hart could not refuse, and held out his hand a little reluctantly, when Mr. Glypteros seized it and gave it a pressure under which the bones cracked, while Clarence felt the most acute pain, which he could not show for very shame after his late threats. Mr. Glypteros continued to shake his hand with the gripe of a giant, repeating: ‘**Gil Carver’s a gentleman, by Hokey, and he’s got a gentleman for a nephew. Stick a pin in that. And you was goin’ to fight me about Gill Waal, waal, if that warn’t real spunky. Why, sonny, you wouldn’t be only a babby in my hauds, but all the same, I glory in your spunk. Ido, by Jiminy!” When he dropped Hart’s hand at last the young man felt that Mr. Glypteros had not boastedidly. He felt for a moment as helpless as if he had been really a baby, his hand ut- terly unable to perform its office till he had smoothed it out and allowed it to rest. Mr. Papadoulos, affecting to notice nothing of his embarrassment, now called him to the table and began to read him a list of instruc- tions from the papers before him. ‘*You are to sail to Cyprus in the barque Euphrosyne, which sails to-morrow. She car- ries a cargo to Larnaca, There you will-meet the duke’s yachtin all likelihood. If she be not there you will cross the island and take ship at the port of Nikosia, where you will find the duke’s tender, E] Djemel, which will carry you to gag play You are to try while on the way to learn as much of the Romaic as you can, for the duke wishes his secretary to be ac- complished. Dat is all, sare, except de funds. I am direck to pay you one thousand Liras Turk on account for salary and expense. Here is de sum in de queenee Ingles,” reeze. He found a goed many people there like him- self, and almost the first he stumbled on were Sir Lumley Lawton, the Hon. Lore.a and Helen enjoying the same cool view. ” Why . Hart, where have you been, and how is that dear, dear duke, and our darling princess?” asked the Hon. Lorelia, with her usual kittenish impulsiveness. Helen gave a nervous start as she saw him and turned scarlet for an instant, then as pale as death, while she looked steadily out into the bay, biting the top of her fanin a manner in- And old Papadoulos handed him a little roll | dicating some em assment. of gold-pieces which represented to Clarence a As for Sir Lumley he was so much surprised whole year’s salary on the scale of U. S. navy that he ejaculated: . Why, bless me, Lorelia, do you know the doctor? ““The doctor? Well, yes, I believe he is a doctor, but to me he’s always Mr. Hart, whe saved Helen and me from the clutches of the ap ocean when the Benares went down.” **What, what?” Sir Lumley began to stammer, while Hart re- plied in his calmest tones: ‘*The ladies think too much of a trifle, Sir Lumley. My Boyton suit saved us all from drowning, but it was no use against the Arabs. For that we must all thank the Duke of Dia- mantina and his guns.” ‘‘And how is that dear duke?” again asked _Lorelia, while Sir Lumley sat drumming on the arm of his chair and Helen looked out to sea as y. ‘‘Now, monsieur,” continued the old mer- chant, “T ave only to wish you a good soyage and invite you to come to dinner at my house this shbong 5 You vill lodge of course at de Mehemet Ali Hotel. I vill send my carriage for you. Au revoir.” And he bowed Clarence out of the ofsice, Mr. Gly pteros giving him a cool nod as he went. —EE CHAPTER XXVIII INVALIDS. THAT afternoon was spent by the American in strolling about Alexandria, seeing whatever was to be seen and much interested in ths mot- ) ley crowd which hurries toand fro in this city | steadily as before. of | the border land between East and West. | “I could not say, madam. The duke left He had arrived, himself, by the night train Cairo yesterday and I may not see him for from Cairo, and had been wandering aimlessly | months.” ' about the city till near noon, when the distant | “What! have you left him?’ suddenly asked shriek of the locomotive warned him that | Helen’s voice, in a way that showed she was not another train was coming in at the station, and | by any means an indifferent listener. he determined to go and see the passengers get **No, Miss Lawton, I sail to join him at Mela- out, with the longing to find a familiar petros to-morrow.” which comes over one in a strange city. ‘** And where’s Melapetros?” asked she, in the When he reached the station the great herd | same abrupt way. of passengers had mostly dispersed, and only a ‘*‘To tell the truth, I don’t know,” the Ameri- few of the later birds were still coming slowly | can answered, with a smile. “I am in the out. hands of others who will take me there. 1 sup- Among these he noticed a group who seemed | pose it’s somewhere in Greece.” to be supporting an invalid, a tall man, who ‘*Ah, then we shall see him again,” cried walked very slowly along, resting his only arm | Lorelia, delightedly. ‘‘ We're going home by round the neck of a stout fellow in the Egyp- | way of Athens you know and surely the duke tian uniform, while the other sleeve of his coat will be at Athens.” was looped up empty on his breast. “Well, Miss Lawton, I see a carriage comin All of Hart’s professional sympathy was | for me, andasI have an engagement to dine i aroused at the sight, for he judged that the arm | will say au revoir.” had been but recently amputated from the pale- | And Clarence backed out into the passa , when he foit Sir ness of the safferer. and was going down- He made his way toward the injured man | Lumley’s band, and lo! the baronet had follow- and soon recognized Helen Lawton’s brother, | ed him quietly, and now whispered: his face unsborn and haggard, all his old ‘‘Pve told my daughter, but my sister must haugbty strut gone, a general air of gloom and d not know of Owen’s wound. Will you keep the secret?” ‘* Certainly, Sir Lumley.” “You are connected with the Duke of Dia- mantina, sir?” ‘1 am his secretary, sir.” ‘You know who he is, sir?” “I know that he is a gentleman of noble While he hesitated whether to offer his ser- vices or not (for Owen looked as if he needed some help) he saw Sir Lumley come hurrying back through the crowd, and heard bim say: ‘There, Owen, [ve put the girls in the car- riage for the hotel. They’ve not seen you yet. Now V’llhelp you.” _ ; character, Sir Lumley.” ‘Tm afraid I’m going to faint, sir,” here re- | The baronet scowled at him. marked Owen, ina very low voice, and Hart | “*Curse his noble character! He has maimed hesitated no more. my son for life, and ’' get even with him for He had an old physician’s habit of carrying | it. Tell him that when you see him.” restoratives with him, and he bastily ran to ‘Clarence stared at his companion in haughty Owen, saying in a tone of authority: | sur’p) ise. ‘Let me come to him, Sir Lumley. I'ma ‘“T'll give him the warning, if not the mes- | sage, Sir Lumley. Gocd-day.” doctor.” The poor father turned round with tears in his | e baronet looked down the stairs after him und his teeth. ““They all like eyes, and without recognizing him, for he had and =. only seen him once in a dark room. | ‘¢Curse him!” he muttered. ‘‘Thank you, sir, thank you. He’s not fit to | him and are all against me. How shall I kill be moved, but we bad to come.” him?” oe e—eeeeeeEeSSSESESSeSeeeeSeSeeSSS Then Hart bastily poured outa little brandy | He remained brooding over the means of which be made the wounded man drink and help- | clearing Diamantina from his path till it was ed him into a carriage which took them to the time to go back to the piazza, where he surpris- hotel. | ed bis sister by his gloom se _*-uch that she pro- All the time they were riding Owen Lawton | nounced him a =e pEEY old bear.” lay back witb his eyes elosed, and Olaronee He could not see his way clear. ~r ‘* . ywtener =? o¢ © e242 Fs" Oey «8° er Cee JOO <s) m eGomie —_—-. — cor