Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 114 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

Bw ee —. —— ~ = > —— ee — ee from the spot, leaving her there alone, as he supposed. e abandonment was cruel, on the surface— unworthy of him, one would have said. But he knew her well. He believed that this was her last appeal. ‘*She is insincere to the core,” he said to him- self. ‘‘ When she sees that I am not to be de- ceived by any of her arts, she will get up and return to her hotel.” He could not bring himself to touch her. He fled her hated presence. But he deceived himself. For once, at least, the woman was in earnest. As she realized that he was indeed leaving ber, she half rose, extend- ed her arms toward his figure disappearing in the shadows, uttered a faint cry, and sunk again to the ground, unconscious. Then from his hiding came forth the Frisco Sharp. He knelt ana lifted her in his arms, and, while he kissed her still, white face, ured forth a torrent of endearing epithets ad- aremed to her, and wrathful denunciations hurl- ed after the man who had spurned her entrea- ties and abandoned her in a swoon. CHAPTER XXIII. A HUMAN TIGRESS. In the solitude of the moonlit glade, the Fris- co Sharp held in his arms the unconscious form of the woman whose beauty and wickedness had already brought much of evil into his life, and was destined to sink him to even lower depths of iniquity. - gain and again he premen his lips to her un- responsive ones, until his impassioned kisses seemed to call her back to life. She opened her eyes. His face,as he bent ever her, was in shadow, so that she did not ize it at first. With acry of ecstasy she clasped him about the neck, “Oh! Will! Will my darling!” she cried. ** Your heart has yielded! My love has won! Oh! bad you known all, you would never have leftmeso cruelly! But, perish the past! Letus live and love in the fu'ure! My darling! My darling! My darling!” Between ‘each reiterated endearment she pressed a burning kiss upon the lips of the man who held her in his arms. Receiving by error that which he had craved, and which would have been priceless to bim otberwise, the Frisco Sharp shuddered. “Stop! stop!” he stammered, hoarsely. ‘‘ You are making a mistake!” At the sound of that voice, so different from what she expected, she tore herself from him with a cry of terror, scrambled to her feet, and stood before him trembling and panting. Remaining on his knees, he turned his white face up to the moonlight, letting its agony plead for him. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ panted the woman. ‘‘ Why are you here? Where is—” But the question died on her lips. ‘“What does it mean?” repeated the Frisco uberp. “Tt means that he who was never worthy of your love has spurned you and de- serted you again—once, dead, as he supposed; now, swooned in this deserted spot! hy am Ihere? The old reason—because I love you! Had I known that on recovering consciousness you would mistake me for him, believe me, I would have spared you and myself / ““He has gone—gone?” repeated the woman, in a wailing tone, **To her from whom your coming has separa- ted him!” said the Frisco Sharp, maliciously. The woman shuddered. “‘And yet you will continue to love him!” ursued the man, with jealous bitterness. “No!” cried Mrs. Seaford, with a sudden burst of fury. ‘‘ You think too meanly of me. I shall hate him; and her—her—I will crush her!” She looked like a beautiful demon, as she clenched her hands and stamped her foot. ‘Love him!” she went on, with increasing assion. ‘‘I bave loved him too well already, hat love brought me here into the wilderness after him, and laid me a suppliant at his feet. Now he shall see to what hate will prompt me! And you shall help me. I will give you ample opportunity to glut your jealous hatred.” ‘How?’ “How? By avenging the insult he has put upon me. y annihilating him! He denied me bi heart; do you bring me his heari’s or ‘ by Frisco Sharp shuddered and shook his ead, “You know that I cannot raise my hand against his life,” he said, gloomily,. ‘“‘ What?’ cried the woman, ferociously. ‘‘ His life must be ever sacred to me, “ Coward !” “No; you know that Iam not that. Havel not stood before his pistol without flinching? You have seen that.” ; “Then you refuse to do my bidding? “T cannot, in this.” “Then, out upon you! There are others who have not such fine scruples. But remember— / 40a have denied me the first thing Iever asked! ‘ “—) The Gentlem ' an from Pike. After what J have suffered through you, your refusal comes with an ill grace. ut for your presence I might have won even now. hy are you here? Go/ and never dare to obtrude yourself upon me again!” She turned with royal scorn. The Frisco Sharp detained her, as abject a suppliant as she had been to that other, “Stop! stop!” he cried.‘ Anything but his life. Put my love to the test; but not that. You know why I cannot strike. Anything short of that.” She turned, and faced him again. ‘“*T have it!” s e cried; and now her face was terrible in its smile of exultant malignity. ‘1 have it! Ihave it!” She struck her hands together, and laughed aloud, Hereyes gleamed with merciless cruelty. ** You aletirco a rarer morsel on my palate than his death! Anything but that, you said. I will take you at your word. forgotten the other part of my revenge. She must be crushed! Death! death! She shall live! Ha! ha! Death brings peace. Only life can protract undying anguish! ‘**Come! come!” she cried, suddenly, seizing him by the shoulder, as if eager to lose no time in paring her scheme into execution. ‘I can tell you as we go along.” Yielding to her impetuosity, the Frisco Sharp was atonce fascinated and repelled by her i malignity, her almost ferocious exul- ion. ‘* What is she meditating against Lilian Am- berleigh?” he asked himself, and his heart sunk with the thought that he was to be made the instrument of her revenge. **Live? Yes, she shall live!” declared the excited woman. ‘She has robbed me of all my soul craved, and left me a life of despair. I will repay her in kind. She shall live to pray for the death that is denied her! I have seen her. I have read her nature. She is high- minded; she is sensitive to a degree. She is one of all others to writhe beneath the tor- ture that I shall put upon her—through you! Ha! ha! My revenge will strike him deeper than a hundred deaths! He has dared to love her! Well, the dearer she is to him, the more will it wring his heart!” Jules St. Auburn could endure no more, ** What is it you require of me?” he asked. “What do [ require?’ repeated Mrs. Sea- ford, stopping and drawing a deep breath, so that her y seemed to dilate, gathering its forces to launch forth her purpose of hate! * This ;—that yow crush her beneath a moun- tatn of shame! Go! desolate all that is beauti- ful; desecrate all that is sacred; leave despair and selt-loathing in the place of hope and happi- ness, until she shudders at the sight of man and goats the justice of God! That is my re- venge Her eyes qivsred: her cheeks flamed; her white teeth gleamed. She looked like a beauti- ful fiend! The Frisco Sharp drew back in horror. ‘*My God!” he cried. “Do you know what you are asking?” * DoI know! DoI not know? I am asking heaven for myself and hell for her I hate more bitterly than death!” ‘Stop! stop! you cannot be a woman and nieditate such cruelty against one of your own sex! ‘You mistake. man!” ‘* But—but—you cannot know—” ‘“But!—but! Is this your pledge? You said anything but his life. I gave him life. Ha! ha! a generous concession! He will thank me, no doubt, when be comes to know. But away with obstacles! There is room for no * buts’ in the case. I demand unhesitating obedience to my wil]!” You do not know. She I can—because I am a wo- *One moment, saved my life at the peril of ber own. When I brought the scourge, and others fled, she nursed me day and night. Can I repay her devotion with such a blow as this? No! no! My God! you cannot ask this of me!” The woman stood mute, wrestling with emo- tions that choked her. When sbe found voice, it was hoarse and low with intensity of passion. ‘So you too love her?” she said. Then she choked again, and she seemed about to spring upon and rend with her nails this man who had added the last straw of insult by going over to her rival, ‘* No,” repiied the Frisco Sharp. ‘TI have but one love. But is it strange that 1 should hesitate to repav with such base treachery one to whom I owe so much of gratitude?” ‘‘T grant you the argument, for me that you refuse.” And without looking at him, the woman turned and walked away. In that he saw the death of his hopes. Could he give her up so? She was the only being he had ever craved. The very intensity of her passion, the greatness of her hate, fascinated him It is enough * Stop! stop!” he cried. ‘‘I cannot let you go like this.” The wonan sto , looked into his face, and laughed: then, without a word, walked on. 1 had almost ee SSS OOOO 0— oo wT LL_L£____XC0O0 17 ‘If I consent?” he asked, still keeping pace with her, : At that she whirled round and clutched his arm, fiercely. ‘*7/f you consent !” she cried; but the rush of passion evoked by the contemplation of that contingency suffocated her, and she broke off. “If Iso renounce all manhood—if I sink my soul in infamy unparalleled—if I do this thing at which the vilest wretch in yonder cam would shudder, repaying such a debt in sucha way—what will it profit me to be the instrument of your revenge?” “If you consent,” repeated the woman, her eyes glittering, her breast heaving—if you give to my soul this sweet morsel which I crave more than life, more than love!—w“hen this is done come to we and ask anything in return!—any- thing !—anything!” * Angthing?” repeated the man, staggered by the hope that her words held forth. “‘ Yes! anything under Heaven!” Jules St. Auburn could scarcely believe that that which he had always craved was at last within his very grasp. ‘“Do not trifle with me,” he said, in a choking voice, ‘‘ You know what I will ask.” ‘Ves! yes!” she replied, eagerly. **And you will grant me this? Remember, you love—” **T hate him!” ‘‘But if I pay this price,” said the Frisco Sharp, shuddering at the thought, ‘‘ there must be no uncertainty about my recompense. Swear that you will fulfill your part of the agree- ment.” The woman laughed as she caught bim by both arms. “Tt will be unnecessary,” she said. “My heart will keep me to the pledge. Do we not love those who bring us great happiness? Con- sent! consent! and you shall have an earnest of we love now!” he shook him in her impatience, and seemed ‘? need but a word to prompt her to embrace im. The man grew giddy. He saw only the witching smile of the siren—her eyes beaming upon him as they had once before when they wooed him to madness in the past. He heard only her voice attuned to the cadences of tender importunity, as she reiterated: ‘** Consent! consent! consent!” ‘*God belp me!” he muttered. Then he 7 a her to bis heart and covered her face with burning kisses. ‘*Promise! promise!” she urged, still with- holding ber lips from him. ‘ te I do!” he replied. ‘I give my soul for your ove! Then ber arms closed about his neck, and her lips responded to his thirsting love. ‘‘Go! go!” she said. ‘Let that be your in- spiration!” r And with tender, pleading mercy driven from his heart by a savage, exultant passion, the man staggered blindly away on iniquitous mission, God help the innocent victim of this tigress’s hate! CHAPTER XXIV. ‘‘HOW WILL IT END?’ So he who had scorned all fear now fled through the night \ike an arrant coward—fied without daring to look round! Ah! but there is that which cannot be met by hardihood. Fate had dealt him a blow which he could neither return nor withst: nd. A ran he might meet with a man’s weapons; but how still a woman’s tongue? Bella Seaford’s beauty would win for her champions; and from them the innocent — would meet the covert sneer, the thinly ma insolence which she would not understand at first, but which would rend her heart when she knew its significance. Their foul tongues would use her sacred name to poivt the jest whose con- tact was like the touch of the tar: ntula, The peg et of this wrung Carleton’s soul with anguish, while it roused ali that was most terri- ble in his nature, ‘“‘One thing is inevitable!” he grated between his set teeth—‘‘1 shall have to weed out this town! And Ill do it, by the everliving God!” But then be broke dewn utterly at the thought. ‘* All this will not save my darling one pang!” And the s' rong man was shaken by sobs. Meanwhie the strange excitement that bad swayed Liuan Amberleigh’s heart had in « measure expended itself. Mrs. Seaford’s visit. too, had been a diversicn. It was an unusual break in the routine of ber life; and the antici- pated pleasure of detailing the incident to her guardian in some degree masked as e ner- vousness With which she looked forw to his return. When the clock struck nine she began to won- der at hisdelay. Ten found her pale with vague foreboding. Again and again she went out into the darkness, to look and listen. The veices of the night had never before so impressed her with a sense of solitude. She could see the isa lights camp, aud while she listened, t of the e yell of nome GOmiecboo S) Go