Beadle's Dime Library No. 109 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

14 “ Mfurl thee into the sea! his father’s very words; ay, and, like that father, he will do as he threatens.” The woman seemed to momentarily forget the existence of the youth, as some bygone memory 4 swept over her; but he recalled her quickly to the present by saying, in deep tones: . “Yes, cast one blot upon the fair name of i those to whom I owe my very being, and, were thou even not a witch, I would hurl thee to thy death, into the dark waters below.” : She glanced into his face, dimly visible, and ¥ saw that he would keep his word, while the clutch upon her arm told her that he was not Lord rald, of Castle Cor, that she could v bandle as she could a child, and then, for the first time in her life, Zebel, the Witch, trem- bled with fear. CHAPTER XXI. QUAFFING ANOTHER DRAUGHT FROM THE BITTER CUP. —— a ee ee 3S eee the which I would say rings not pleasantly in your ears,” and the same defiant manner came back to the woman. “Then cease thy mocking laughter, when ha sng of those whose names [ look upon as sac ” eh SL ~ 2 1a ~ “Must I lie? hold them up before thy gaze as saints, when I know them to be—” “What?” * Devils.” In an instant his hands were upon her, with a force she had no power to resist, and raising her al i ed him to himself, and he placed her on her ee feet once more, saying humbly: ‘‘Woman, I would ask your pardon; [ was not myself, for things have gone wrong with me of late, and more, it is hard to hear one’s parents spoken of as though they were the basest of the base.” ‘Boy, thou hast an iron grip; the same that ul thy father had, for he too was a marvel of pick a but lay not thy hands on me again, for I like not their touch, and, as thou dost not care to hear what I would tell thee, go!” For a moment he seemed half inclined to | obey her; but then he said: ‘‘ This is cowardice in me, to dread hearing the truth; speak! I will listen to all thou hast to say.” . ‘And keep thy lion paws off me, if I speak that which does not chime in with thy desires?” “Yes, I'll not touch thee again, for already am I ashamed that [ should have intended i harm to a woman.” i ‘*Now, thou dost reason as I would have — eee ei thee; well, I said that thy parents were devils.” She paused, but though he started at the word, he remained silent, and she continued: ‘That they loved thee there is no doubt, and that they mourned thy mone death is true; for, hadst thou been with them, their love, if not their lives might have been different.” ‘* And who were they?’ ‘Devils, I say,” she answered, seemingly with malicious joy at torturing him; but he said calmly: ‘So thou has told me thrice: now give me their names and rank.” , “TJ will, though with the first sip of the cup, you will find it gall; thy mother was a Gipsy. ‘‘A Gipsy? Why I’d rather che were a peas- ant even,” and he assumed a manner as though to meet her assertions with cool indifference. “Yes, she was a Gipsy; one of the tribe of Benedictine, and from Old Spain; but differing from the usual forest children, they roamed by sea, and encamped on land, always near e sea, for they owned a fleet of swift craft, a score or more in number, and spread their sails for any oe of the world; now land- ing in the Colonies, then in Italy; again on the coast of the Mediterranean, and again in France, until at last their roving nature brought them to these shores, and not half a league from here. “So balmy was the air, so fertile the soil, so contented were they in Ireland, that for a long time their vessels remained idle, anchored in what is now called Gipsy Cove; and there it was that the maiden, who won your father’s heart, dwelt with ber people. ‘‘Once he saved her from abuse by some an- ery nts, and from that day her heart went ‘orth to him, though she was destined by the | iaws of her tribe to marry one of her own race, | 2, young man who was vet to wear the title of | ing of her people. Ht] _ He loved her, and she was content until the | day when yOu, father crossed her path.” i ‘* And who was my father, woman?” ‘Don’t be too anxious ta know, for, the word | of Zebel the Witch for it, you will not be proud of him.” 43 The youth shuddered at her ominous reply, ie out remained silent, and she continued: ; ‘Your father was as fearless as is his son, and one night, just such an one as this has been, he : attempted to ride along the bay-shore road, al- though the sea was breaking wildly over it, and | ke was swept out by the waves, bis herse was cyarned beneath hin, and he would bave died © ‘* Boy, I came here to tell you the truth of | , not to be threatened, because that | in his arms he was about to hurl her into the | depths below, when her loud, piercing shriek re- | Captain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. y ee ee —— ee in the wild waves, for he was being driven out to sea, when Jule, the Gipsy, returning to her ‘camp in her little life skiff ran upon him, and —saved him.” “Tt would have been better for both, accord- ing to you, woman, if she had left him to die.” ‘Yes, far better: but she took him to her camp, and his arm being broken, and his head on by the keel of hex boat, she nursed him back to life. ** But Santos the Gipsy became jealous, swore revenge, and, that night on the vessel, as I have said, he drove a knife into your father’s back.” ‘‘ He married the Gipsy girl then?” ‘* Hal ba! ha! married her, did you say?” ‘* Yes, won by her devotion to him and wish- ing to repay her for all she had done—” ‘* Ha! ha! ha! no, boy, he did not marry her, ah no! but he took her from her people, and-——” He again stepped toward her, but checking himself, said, in hoarse tones: ‘* Witch of Hell! I will listen to all thou hast to say, blacken my name as thou mayst; but, if thy words are false, then I swear to thee, I will urge the peasantry to burn theeat the stake, and well thou knowest how willing they are to kin- dle the fire around thee.” ‘If I speak false, then carry thy oath into execution; but mark ye, Pll have my revenge for that threat, boy, in seeing thee writhe under my words, ‘‘T say that thy father did not make thy mother his wife, and more, thou art his son, and the son of Jule the Gipsy.” **Oh, God! this is terrible!” and he groaned in agony of spirit. ‘Aba! the iron enters thy heart now, but be brave, for I am not done yet, the cup is not more than half quaffed, and the dregs, you know, settle in the bottom.” He paced to and fro, and the clouds having drifted away the starlight shone resplendent, and showed that his face was deadly pale, as he turned it to the arched window, for the winds to cool his burning brow. ‘‘Hast collected thy nerve to hear more?’ asked Zebel the Witch in a malicious tone. ‘Yes, what more can I hear?’ ‘That you shall know anon,” and she drew nearer to him, laying her hand upon his arm, “a turning her burning black eyes full upon is own. CHAPTER XXII. DRAINING TO THH DREGS THE CUP OF WOK. ‘* Yus,” continued the Witch in a low, but paintully distinct tone, ‘‘ thou art basely born.” He shrunk from her, as though a serpent had stung him, and yet he remaind silent, though his lips moved. Apparently she enjoyed the pain she gave, for upon her face rested a devilish smile, such an one as Satan might wear, when welcoming a lost soul into his Inferno. ‘** But thou art not responsible for the sins of thy parents, for Gipsy Jule loved your father, and elieved that he loved her; she was am- bitious, aimed high in life and fell lower than the lowest, yet she clung to the man for whom she had sacrificed honor, and her people, clung to him through all. “ But at length, urged to it by the discarded Gipsy lover, Santos, her tribe determined that Jule must give up her lover, or that he must become one of her people, “Tt was talked over at the Death Council that condems an unworthy Gipsy to death, and all decided that if she did not obey, and leave the man she had forsaken them for, that she must die, and this they told her. ‘But he would not give her up, and asked if there was no way to save her? ‘Yes, her life could be saved by his casting away from him his creed, his kindred, his countrymen, and his native land, in fact by be- coming, like Jule, one of a roving race. ‘‘He was given one month to decide, and he decided as Gipsy Jule urged: he became one of the tribe of Sea, Wanderers. “And moré: recognizing his greatness, and a pp recigteng his courage, at the death of the old king, the lineal Benedictine, they made your father their royal ruler.” ‘Tt isa relief to know that he did not desert the maiden he had dishonored, be she Gipsy or peasant,” said the young man coldly. ** Buila up no hopes in your heart that your father had honor, for he had not. “Tsay he was chosen Gipsy king, and then a council was held, for the people along the Irish coast were imbittered against the wandering tribe, the treasure-box of the tribe was pa, low, and it was decided that they must sprea their white sails and fly to other lands, while the royal craft, as fleet as the wind, armed and manned, must cruise awhile for riches. ‘Of that royal craft your father was made captain, by right of his being king, and thus it was that he became a pirate.” Again the blow struck hard, and the man reeled, as though about to fall, but recovering himself, he said hoarsely, ‘‘Go on! why do you “To give you time to rally, for, strong as you ,l make you feal, 4s : wwe sf * t ’ ’ Yes, your father heagme # plrate, for, while a ee ee ee em bless mn tint — <n ere | OR alee his people, for he was a Gipsy, you know, boy, sought another haven in a foreign land, he, wedded to the sea, and the wild life he led, hoisted the banner of the buccaneer, and swept from sea to sea, spreading terror along every coast, and winning a name that sent a shudder to the bravest heart.” ‘* And what was that name, woman?” “Have ever heard that the Earl of Belmont had a brother?” ‘“* Yes, but for the love of God! speak!” ‘*A brother,” coolly continued the woman, ‘““whom he cheated of his bride, and sent to lonely exile in this castle?” ‘““'Yes, yes, I say.” ‘* Well, that brother was it, that dishonored Gipsy Jule.” ‘What! Hurtel of the Red Hand?” * Ay, your father ; Hurtel of the Red Hand ]” ery broke from the pallid lips of the wretched man, and he fell his full length upon the stone floor, and, as though death had placed his icy touch upon his pulse, lay motionless as the rock upon which the castle stood. CHAPTER XXIII. HOPE’S FAREWELL. ‘* HOLY HEAVEN! I have killed him; his heart was too tender to stand the rude thrusts; no, no, no, he is not dead! he will not die! he shall not die! ‘* Yes, I, Zebel the Witch, will it; he shall not die!” She quickly fled from the room, and returnin ina moment or two, ignited a taper and hel the flame near his face, shading it with her hand, that the wind might not blow it out, ‘He looks as though he were dead; but he is not;” and she felt bis pulse, and with a scared look dropped his hand and pressed her ear against his heart. ‘*Ha! ha! ha! the temple of clay is yet ten- anted with life! ha! ha! ha! now to fetch him back from this death-like swoon.” She chafed his hands, bathed his face with water from a flask, which hung to her belt, and wee dropped a liquid from a tiny bottle on his ps. The effect was wonderful, for back once more came swinging the pendulum of life; the eyes | opened, the red blood rushed into the face, a | shudder shook his frame, and, with a sudden bound the man was on his feet once more. * Yet his eyes wandered wildly about, and for an instant, as she gazed upon him, she feared that he had gone mad; that grief had turned his brain. ‘* Ha! now I remember all, thou hag of Satan; thou didst say that I was the son of an unwed- ded woman; of Gipsy Jule of the Wandering Race?” ‘*- Yes, so said I.” ‘‘ And more; thou didst say that I was the son of Sir Hurtel of Castle Crag?” and, as he asked the question, leaning against the stone window, he was strangely calm. ‘‘ Yes, so said I,” answered Zebel the Witch, in serps as calm tones, ‘And more! thou didst say that Sir Hurtel, once the master of Castle Crag, now known as Castlo Death, was Hurtel of the Red Hand,” ‘Yes, the pirate whose bloody deeds upon the sea gained for him that name; yes, he was thy father.” ‘Dost know where he is now?” — ‘He is upon the sea, flying his pirate banner, and leaving behind him a red wake, and the wails of women and children, the cries of dying men, to follow him upon every wind that wafts him prongs! “Ha! ha! ha! you are a false witch, if thou sayest that Hurtel of the Red Hand lives.” ith a spring like a tiger at its prey, the wo- man was upon him, her hands upon either, shoulder, while she hissed forth: ae liest! Hurtel of the Red Hand is not ead. ‘* And I echo back the lie, for I say that he is, and that thou art a false witch.” She saw that he spoke as one who meant all that he said, and she asked in a low tone: ‘How know you this?” ‘‘ How know I that Hurtel of the Red Hand is dead? Why, because I saw him die.” ‘“‘ When?” “Two weeks ago.” “Where?” “* At sea, on his own deck.” ‘* Ha! you sailed from here in a king's cruiser?” ‘Aha! it is your turn to question now, and you look as if my words were not music to your ears, woman.” “‘Tf you speak the truth, then are thy words dulcet tones in my ears, ay, and honeyed drops into my heart.” “T sneak the truth, for I saw him die.” ‘** Your cruiser engeg then?’ “Yes, we had first a storm, if you remember it, then we met a frigatoon, which proved to be the Wanderer, the vessel of Hurtel of the Red Hand.” “ And you eaptured her?’ ‘No: her erew boarded us, and we drove | them back to their decks, and cutting loose they : sailed away, leaving us crippled; but, woman, | the pirates took not with them their chief,” = Scomicbooks:co — - eee Piers