Beadle's Dime Library No. 111 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

“Sister, do tell me what this means!” gaid Ethelbert, in a low an-i beseeching tone. “Alas! 1 know not myself,” sighed Rosa- lette. * Ang ye. your son 80.” “TI know it, Etnes. .., and he alone knows why. 1 would give all but life to unravel the mystery.” , * Where did you learn the song?” “T cannot tell you—at least nut now, Ethet- bert! 1 hope that 1 may svon—forgive me— but I cannot now.” “There is sowe fearful mystery in it! Will you repeat the. words to me?” “Yes!” And in a tone so low that tneyo eonld reach his ear, Rosulette repeated the lines which she had sung. “Strange. There must be something in it,” said Ethelbert. “I have seen father before in strange moods, and once I well remember hear- ing that name, Delorme, burst from his lips when he did not know that I or any one was ia bearing!” *O Ethelbert, if I could but go to England and see if there was a Castle Delorme, or a lam- ily of that name there, I would, I feel sure, be happier than Tam now. I might then unravel a inystery which now hangs a heavy cloud of dread over me. I fear, 1 know not what I fear, I dare not, cannot tell you all Ido fear. Oh, if I but could!” “T will goto England, sister, and hunt the kingdom over, and if there be a Castle De- lorme, or a family named Delorme, I will know its history, and theirs, befure I return to you.” * Brother, if you tell him what you are go- ing for, he will not let you go.” “Twill not tell him, Rosy. I will not even say that I think of going to England. Le has already said that I might visit Franee and Ita- ly. 1 will ask him to let- me go there, and I will; but my stay in those lands shall be brief, for I will hasten to learn what you desire.” “ Bless you, EthelSert! 1 wish [ could go with you.” “Perhaps it will be better that you should not, Rosy! I will do better alone it there is any mystery to unravel, for alone I can assume any name or disguise that [ choose.” * Perhaps it is best!” said Rosalette. “ And now. dear brother, I will retire to my chamber, for father’s hasty, heavy step, show that he is angry yet, and [ dread his questionings. Le may be more calm in the morning.” * Well, Ileaven bless you, sweet sister! Good- night!” * Good-night!” And as she uttered those words, the pure girl left the reom, She hud been gone but a few moments when Mr. Drummond re-entered the room, “ Woere is Rosalette ?” he asked. “She has retired to bed! She is not well!” said Ethelbert. “lave you seen any strangers in her com- pany lately ?” continued Mr. Drummond. * No, father; I have not; nor could ehe have been in the company of strangers without my knowing it, fur you know she never goes abroad exceptin my company,” “tas she received any letters with foreign post-marka through the office in the village ?” “Not within my kuowledye, father. 1 have got all letters from the offiee since my return, and none were for her. All were your busi- ness letters, with the exception of five or six from some of my college-clinms !” “Tt is strange—strange—very strange !” mut- tered Mr. Druinmond. “What is strange, father ?” asked Ethelbert. “ Notaing that ¢meerns you, bey Ie replied Mr. Drummond, sternly ; aud be left the room hastily. E'helbert heard him go into his sleeping- chamber, which adjeined his own bedroom, to which the young wan svon after retired. And for hours Ethelbert listened to the heavy tread of lis father, as he slecplessly walked tuand fro in the solitude of his chani- ber. Ie, too, murmured, “It is strange—very strange!’ ng he sunk at last into a fretful aud uneasy slumber. CHAPTER XXVI. Another morning dawned, and another day’s sun shone over the Jittle village which rejeiced in the poxsession of such a model “ tarvern” ag the “ Golden Anchor”. And Neb caused him to The Smuggler Captain, who was the earliest riser in the place, was up with the sun, and had taken hia bitters, and mix: ed a dose for Steve, who wae always on hand when “ bitters” were on the board, “TIave you got the kitehen-fire agoin’, Na- poleon?” asked Mr. Hunt, after he had smoked his first pipe. “ Yes—long ago—and peeled the taters and cut the meat for the missis!” rej lied Steve. “Tlas Betsy set the table?” continued Nele- miah, “No; I guess she’s a snoozin in bed yet!” snid Steve. ‘I haven't seen nor heerd nothin’ of her yet this mornin’!” “ Maybe she’s got the sulke ’cause I sent the durned peddier away!” esid Mr. Hunt. “ You'd better ring the fust bell.” “Tt ain't time “pif snid Steve, drawing out his wateh, which bad already br en released from lock and pat § “You allus have bre'kfus at seving o'clock, and ring the fust bell ten min- ites afore to give folks time to git up and wash. It isn’t half-past six yet!” “I don't care, ring the bell, and it'll rouse her go that shell be up and set the table. Do that, and then go and milk the cows, and feed the hogs, and water the hosses, and clean the stable, and then come and sweep out here.” “Well, give me my bitters, und I'll do it.” “ You've had your bitters, haven't you ?” “Only one nip, Nehemidh! You promised me the run o’ the bar for a month, last night, you know.” “So Idid—go and git your drink,” said Ne- hemiah, with a sigh. Napoleon drank, and soon after the bell was rung with a vigor which must have killed sleep net only in every rooin in that house, but for all the neighbors for a hundred yards around, Some twenty or thirty minutes passed, and Steve came in from “doing up his chores.” “Ie that gal up, Napoleon?” asked Mr. Hunt. ‘IT haven't seen nothin’ of her,” said Steve. “The table isn’t set at any rate. Maybe she's sick.” “ Or took p ison! she threatened it. Jast night,” cried her futher, turning pale. “ Run right to my old woman, and tell her to go up to Betsy’s room and see what's the matter with her. | darsen't! If she’s gone and took p’isen, I might as well vo and hang myself, for they'll say | murdered her.” Steve was nlmost as much frightened as the landlord, and he hurried away to Mrs. Hunt. The old lady ran up stairs in a moment when she received the message from her husband. And in a moment more she came down to her hushand, looking so pale and frightened that he felt in a second that what he dreaded had taken place, and half-choked, he gasped out: “Ts she dead ?” “She isn’t there, if she is. Ter bed isn’t tumbled a mite,” said Mrs. Hunt, who trembled so that she had to sit down. ‘“ She hasn't slept there!” “O Lord! She has gone and drownded her- self!” groaned Nehemiah, “ TTere’s a letter with your name onto it, that lay on her table,” said Mrs, Hunt. Nehemiah snatched it from her and began to read it. Andas he did 60, the pallor left his free, and a red flush of anger came in its place. “Durn and blast her!” he shouted. “ Durn and blast her picter! I wish she had gone and took p'ison !” “QO Nehemiah, how can you say so? What is in that letter?” cried his startled wife. “ Durn her! she’s gone and run off with that peddler, and is agoin’ to marry him,” eried Ne- hemiah, dashing his fist down on the bar furi- ously. “Oh, if I can only catch 'em, I'll choke ‘eur Voth to death. What will Capting Hewlet say ?” “ What is the matter, friend Tunt?” gaid the captain, just making his appearance, and look- ing as calm and innocent as if he knew nothing of the clopement. “ Matter that'll set you to swearin’, I swow] don’t like to tell you, capting, indeed I don't. The old woman may if she wants to.” But the “old woman”, as Mr. Hunt ealled her, could not, for her sobs choked all utterance. « What is the matter?” asked Lewlet, with o most earnest tone and loook, “If you have bal news, out wilh it—I om a map, and can bear troubie like one.” * Betsy has run off with that mean cuss of a peddler!” groaned Mr. Hunt. «I heerd him tell her to remember what they'd agreed on; but the cuss licd to me, and now she’s gone, aud Hunt, | 1 gaged ie warsigd ufone this tiga” | 15 oa 2 -. — - + ees “Married? WMarriedy! Ob, whv did I love her go!” gasped llewlet. Ani he proved him- self as good an actor as she had done the night before; for, clasping his hand to his forelead, he reeled, and was about to fall full length on the floor, when Steve reached out his arms and caught him. ““Water—water—I'’m fainting!” he gasped, as his whole weight rested on Steve. Mr. Hunt caught up the piteber of water from the bar, and dashed it full in Llewlct's face, drenching him from head to foot. “Carry me to my room—this will kill me moaned Hewlet, shivering with the unexpected baptism. Mr. Hunt hurried to help Steve carry Ilewlet pe he for he really thought the captain was ing. Me Run for the preacher, old woman, he knows somethin’ about doctorin’,” ecriid le, as he caught up Hewlet’s legs from the floor; for Steve held him under the arms. “No, no—call no one, Put mein achair. I will fee} better soon,” moaned Tlewlet. “ Oh, the cruel, eruel girl! She knew how I loved her. Never, never will I believe in the truth of woman after this. F: hd Never, never ! “Tl hoss-whip ’em both if I ever entch ’em, jist ns sure us my name is Nehemiah Ifunt,” cried the Inndlord. “ What's did is did, and it can’t be helped,” said Steve, solemnly. “But I didn't never think that Betsy Hunt would have gone and made a fool of herself.” “OQ my darter, my poor, poor darter!” sobbed Mrs. Ilunt. : “]"}] shoot the cursed fellow, even if T find him in a ehurel,” eried Lewlet, who had re- covered from his fainting-fit very rapidly. “Shootin’ is too good for him,” said Mr, TIunt. “Ile ought to be bit to death with mos- keeters, or pecked to death by scttin’ hens lt Only let me get a hold of the pesky gal-thief, He'll wish he wasn'ta peddler, Ill bet. Napo- leon, mix a hot brandy-sling for the capting. Don't you see how lie shivers?” “T guess you'd shiver, too, with a hull pitcher of ice-water pitched over you,” said Napoleon, as he hurried to mix the “sling”. “TJ did it cause he was a faintin’'—I didn't mean no harm,” said the landlord, apologetically, “The shock was too sudden for me—I conld not stand it,” said Hewlet. “ Tow did you find out she had gone with the peddler ?” “Why, she left a letter in ler bedroom, where my old woman found it when she went to look for her, seein’ she wasn't around this morn. in’, Tere it is—ehe says slie’s ngoin’ to marry the peddler, and axes my pardon [or it; bul durn me into sole-leather if | ever forgive her,” And Mr Hunt hanJed Hewlect the letter The latter took it and read it as coolly and se ‘iously as if he had never scen it before. “She has acted very coolly,” he sail. “Th must have been all arranged between them.” “Sartain it was. And I was a bliin! old fool aot to sce it,” said Mr. Hunt. “If IT had only tnought such a thing could have happened, | have locked ber up after I sent him ao kitin’. Oh, how cunnin’ they was.” . “ She doesn't say where they were roing to,” continued Hewlet, looking over the letter. “No, not a werd,” said Mr. Hunt. “O Betsy, Betsy—I shall never see her again,” sobbed Mrs. Hunt. “T never want to. She has brought sliame and disgrace on us in our old age,” said Ler hus- band, bitterly. “ Maybe ho has not yet married her. Just as soon na I feel able to travel, I will trace them out,” said Mewlet. “Oh do, cap'n, do, and a mother will pray to God to bless you and help you to bring her | poor, sinful girl back to her arms before she. dies,” cried Mrs. IJunt, in tones which would have gone to Hewlett’s heart, if he Lad been possessed of any remorseful feeling, “Tere’s your hot sling. I know it's good, for I made one jest like it for myself,’ said Na- poleon, at this moment. : mn Iewlet took it, for he was shivering yet from his shower-bath. “T'm too fat to travel—I can’t ride in no stage-coach that runs, or I'd help you to look after ’em, eapting!” said Mr. unt. “T will do my best, alone!’ said ITewlet. “1 think I shall be able to go to-morrow. “Now, I feel too weak to go. You had better inqnire— * or rather send some one a few miles to sve what route they took!’ he added. “I'll go if the miasis oan spare me!” said “S GComicbooks.cor