Beadle's Dime Library No. 111 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

-_ gs ee Cee mg ee er re CHAPTER LI. Days and nights of wild delirium and fever followed the hour when poor Betsy Hunt was laced in a comfortable room next her own, by ay Hewlet, in the boarding-house of Mrs. Lar- kin. And, during these weary hours, the poor rirl was watched over and tenderly austed by rs. Hewlet, who, in Betsy’s wild ravings, learned so much of the poor girl’s story as to be satisfied that her own lawful husband had betrayed and ruined the unhappy recipient of | | | The Smuggler Captain, — oe — — —— - them he took out his watch, glanced at the time, and added : “T will go and take a walk toward the sea- shore, where the breeze will cool my rather feverish brow—in an hour I will return to know | my fate, or decide yours!” her true, womanly ebarity. Ard though inher ° ravings Betsy so often called upon ber * Frank, ber dear Frank’’ to save her, that Mrs. Hewlet well knew « love for him was in that young and breaking heart which no time eould efface, and death only could erase, she felt no jealousy. For how could she be jealous of the helpless ove who had been deceived? How much more natural for her would it have been to cast from her own heart the love which she bore for him who was the father of her child, when for years she had felt his neglect, and now had proof of his unworthiness! But she could not. Love is a deep-rooted plant—Love, I mean, not pas- sion, or the sentimentality o fledgeling misses and masters. Betsy Hunt, at last, recovered her senses sufficiently to learn who had been so kind to her, and to tell all her pitiful story. And she was sitting by the window of her little echam- ber, talking with Mrs. Hewlet about her return to her native village, which had been decided on as soon as she was able to travel, when the carriage which contained Captain Hadley drove up before the — house. There was nothing in the mere stopping of the carriage to attract her attention; but after it moved off, and she saw an old man standing in apparent bewilderment there, she glanced at his face, and, in an instant, it flashed upon her mind that she had seen that face before, and in happier days. Who it was, che could not eall to mind, for her brain was yet weak from her long illness. She trembled, however, and Mrs. Hewlet noticed and asked, in her usual kind tone, for the cause of her agitation. “There, there,” said Betsy, pointing across the street, “is some one from Ledgetown. I know the face; I know the form; but I am diz- zy, and cannot think who it is.” “ He looks like a sea-faring man. His face is weather-bronzed, and his gray hair curls thick about his temples,” says Mrs. Hewlet. “T think it is Captain Hadley. Oh! are father hae sent him to look after me. o find out if it is Captain Hadley, good Mrs. Hewlet. If he would only look up, he would know me.”’ And Betsy waved her hand and tried to call his name; but her voice was weak, and she knew she could not make him hear. “J will go and send Mrs. Larkin over to call him in, if he is really the man you think he is,” said Mrs. Hewiet, leavmg the room. In three or four minutes more, Betsy Hunt was weeping like a child on the breast of the good old Captain, who cared nothing for all his eity troubles, since he had found the object of his search. And now, reader, we will leave Captain Had- ley, and Betsy, and Mrs. Hewlet in company to arrange a little plot of their own, founded upon the information which he gave them of matters in Ledgetown ; and, meanwhile, we will go there on Fancy’s rapid car, and see for ourselves how matters progress. CHAPTER LU. In the Cottage in the Pines, just three weeke after the departure of Captain Hadley upon the mission known only to himself and Rosa Jette, Mr. Drummond and his daughter were passing a wildly-sorrowful hour. Maddened by the constant rebuffs and the fearless annoyances which he received at the hands of Rosalette, Captain Hewlet had de- manded a positive decision on the part of both father and daughter in regard to bis matrimonial project. “One hour I give you, Mr. Drummond, to consult with the fair friend who seems to de- light in tormenting the heart which is madly devoted to her—ore hour, sir, and then I come to ask whether or not her marriage and mine shall be eelebrated on the morrow. I make no threats now—I have done threatening. But | ‘ou know well what I can do: you ought to ae whether a wronged and desperate man will refrain from using the means he has in his | power to bring the refractory to their senses.” Those were his words; and after uttering : ‘“What does he mean, father? Will you never explain tome what terrible power that bad, bad man holds over you?” cried Rosalette. “Child, I cannot—dare not. I am in his power; but I will dare the worst! You shall not suffer forme. My decision is already made —he can but ruin me. All I dread is—. I cannot speak it child; but you will try not to hate me when I am gone? I will not survive the disgrace he threatens. For your sake, and for that of my brave boy, I would have avoided what must come; but I ean no longer struggle ainst that fiend in human shape.’ And the old man, grown weak with troudle, bowed hia head and wept like a child. ‘‘ Father—dear father,’’ sobbed Rosalette, “ since I may not know what his power over you is—I will destroy it. He has said, over and over, that, my hand once his, he would cease to ersecute you. He shail have that hand; but he will course the hour whieh makes it his. Though I become Hewlet’s wife—” “ Which you will never be, Rosy—which you never will be, Rosy Drummond!” cried a hearty, happy voice at the door; and old Captain Had- ley entered the room. Mr. Drummond only raised his head, and zed on the Captain with a look of surprise ; t Rosalette rushed toward him, and cried: “ Have you succeeded, dear Captain Had- ley 2” y Yes, Rosy, yes!” ‘Have you found her? and is all as I sus- pected ?” ; “ Yes—only worse for him. I have found poor Betsy, who was ruined by a mock-mar- riage with the villain you just named as I cam in, And I also found his real wife and his ebild, who is named Rosy, too. And they are now near the village, ready to act their part in ex- osing and punishing the villain; for I have Foaga a plan to Jay him out cold in his games, and to make him hnown as he is. I would have him in the State Prison if I had my way; but his poor, wronged wife, woman-like, pleads that his punishment may go no further than his publie exposure.” “What does all this mean?” asked Mr. Drummond, who had been listening amazedly to the conversation between his daughter and the old Captain. “This, my father: that now the tables are turned,” replied Rosalette, “ Captain Hewlet may threaten now, and yet we will laugh at him. For we hold him in our power. He would marry me to-morrow, and yet he has a living wife pear a comfort him; and his victim, poor Betsy Hunt, is also close by, whose oath would send him to prison for more years than he ought to live.” “ But all this does not relieve me,” said Mr. Drummond, sadly. “Still he will hold the sword above my head,” “ He will be glad to withdraw that sword if we work our plans aright,” said Rosy. “I shall consent to marrying him when he comes in—will name the hour to-morrow myself for the ceremony to take place, and shall depend upon you, Captain Hadley, bringing his true wife before him at the moment when the minis- ter asks if there is any one present who shall say aught against the marriage. For that, I believe, is always a part of the matrimonial service. Let his vietim also appear to confront him, and if, after that, Frank Hewlet stays lon in these parts to persecute my poor father, am mistaken both in him and the people of our ner : “ Your plan is good, and only goes a little ahead of the one I and his wife had formed to bring him out before the world,” said Hadley. “JT will aid you, and be on hand with those under my convoy at any hour you name.” “Let it be at noon at the village church, then,” said Rosalette. ‘And now, Captain Hadley, with only my poor thanks at this mo- ment for a reward, hurry away, for I expect the wretch baek every moment, and I do not wish him to see you.” “Bless you, girl—I’ll obey orders from you as long as I live. But I've a long story to tell you if I ever get time. [ve scen all of cities want to; and your five hundred dollars have gone to—” « Never mind now, dear Captain—anever mind, | ee ans Satie Ieee 29 _— ees ee eee ome ow ee ee ee ee ee rere now. Flewlet will be here very seen, and | wish to be ready for him” “ All right, y—good night, Mr. Drum- mond—I’l! be on hand to-morrow, safe and sound, convoy and all.” And the honest old skipper hurried away, and not any too soon; for Rosalette only had time to eaution her father how to act in their interview with Hewlet, when the latter ap- peared. Rosalette, who a moment before had looked triumphantly happy, now assumed a look of sullen indifference, while Mr. Drummend look- ed even as he yet felt, desparately unhappy ; for he could not believe that the villain’s hold upon him could be thrown off so easily ns Rosalette imagined. a Well, Mr. Drummond, the hour is up!” ssid Hewlet. ‘You have had time to delib- erate. Is your resolve formed ?” Mr. Drummond choked with the answer which Rosalette bad told him to give. He could not speak as she had hidden him do. She saw that she must utter the words herself. And in a quietly sareastic tone she did so. ‘To save my poor father from persecution, unmanly as it is cruel, 1 have made up my mind to become your victim, under the name of wife!” “Ah! I thought you'd come to terms when [ left but one alternative,” said Hewlet, tri- umphantly. ‘* Hark a moment,” said Rosalette. “ There are generally conditions in most articles of ca- pitulation.” ‘Well, fair captive; name what conditions you ask, and, as a generous conqueror, | will consider the propriety of granting them.” ‘‘ First, sir, that, having consented to,tecome your wife, I name the hour and place where the ceremony of enslavement is to take place.” ‘*Oh! I agree to that, provided the hour is hot very far distant. Ag to the place, it makes no difference—a chureh or a grave-yard were alike, so long as you become mine |” “T have no thought of grave-yards at present, sir. You may think of them for your own use as soon as you like. For am candid to suy, that I had rather be n widow, than a wife to Satan's youngest son. To-morrow, at noon, I will en- ter the village church, and there you may elaim me as your bride, unless some other lady claims you before the hour which is to make me yours !” “ Lady, you are kind to name euch an early hour. You may depend upon it, I will be punetual,” said Hewlet, bowing. Then turning to Mr. Drummond, who sat gloomily looking at Roealette, as if studying whether she could in- deed succeed in saving dreaded, Hewlet asked : “Ts your free consent given to this matter’ Mr. Drummond ?” ‘“‘ My consent is given ; you know best if it be free or not. And now leave us in our misery to have a few hours of peace,” replied Mr. Drummond, sternly. “TI will do 80, sir. I will go to prepare for she bridal, for our old friends in the village de- serve 4 feast on such a happy occasion!” Though sarcastic in tone, his words fell light- — the ear of Rosalette, who could hardly aide rom him the anticipation of a triumph whieh would darken his joy. And as he bowed low, ‘ere he turned to go, and said: “ Pleasant dreams, fair betrothed!” Her answering sinile ~as ominous of evil, for it was quiet, and the words with it: “I hope you will dream of the once fair and pure daughter of Nehemiah Hunt. Let not her ghost disturb those dreams!” His brow darkened, and a curse rose to his lips, but he did not utter it then. He only muttered go low that she could not hear him: “Once mine, daughter of a prouder house than this though you be, I'll tame you!” OHAPTER LITE. | Nehemiah Hunt, our host of the Golden An- chor, was, as usual, smoking his pipe in his big arm-chair on the stoop of the tavern, when Frank Hewlet came down from the Cottage in the Pines, after his last interview with the Drummonds, as described in the last chapter. Napoleon, who was seldom at rest, was now actually sitting down on the lower step of the same porch, smoking a cigar; for sinee his ae- quisition of a watch, he had endeavored to learn all the qualifications of a gentleman, of which he supposed cigar-smoking to be one. Hewlet, as he ascended the steps, whiatling a merry sir, attraeted the attention of Nehemiah, im from the doom he Gomilcboo CS (e(o)