Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 114 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

=. The Gentieman from Pike. ee ee - ang age I will promise anything—any- ng Tne Frisco Sharp walked the floor of the cavern in.moody thcught. The girl exhausted every ground of appeal, until she crouched there, sobbing in utter wretchedness and despair. Suddenly the man stopped before her, ex- claiming: ‘*T have an idea! Wz£ill you promise me this? Swear that, if I release you unharmed, you will go away and ncver attempt to see William Carleton again—never let him know what has become of you!” The girl bad risen to her knees with a wild hope. t at the thought of never again seeing the man she loved—ay, she did love him!—she shrunk back with atbrill of nameless dread. The thought so suddenly conceived thrilled the Frisco Sharp with a wild hope. Here was a solution cf his difficulties. She should herself maintain the barrier between her and the Gen- tleman from Pike! Carried away with this idea, he sprung <— her, clutching her by the shoulders, as if but awaiting her refusal to dash her to the ground, and crying, wiidly: “Swear! Swear! What do you lose? Noth- ing! Is he not already debarred from you? Swear, I say! or accept your doom, now, with- out an instant’s delay!” His words were true. That woman stood an impassable barrier between them. Poor Lilian, with honor and at least peace in one side of the eale, and only the poor privilege of secing him she loved, while knowing that they must ever walk apart, in the other, gasped: ‘*Yes! yes! I promise you!” ‘Enough! Enough! The bargain but waits Mrs. Seaford’s assent; and sho must accord it! 1 will leave you now, and return in ten or twelve hours, at furthest. You will be without food or water; but hcro aro fagots in abundance, You will at Jeast havo light. He hurried from tho cavern, blocking up the narrow entrance with bowlders, in such a way that they could not be removed from within. Lilian Amber] igh was alone with her wretch- edness and that uncertain hope contingent on a jealous woman’s caprice! here was but one bright spot to contemplate —the Gentleman from Pike had spurned his false wife for love of her! CHAPTER XXXIV. A STRANGE EXILE. ‘““T WOULD give my life to know!’’ Into those low-spoken words the Gentleman from Pike threw all the passion of his great love, his great despair. Then dead silence fell! The clasp of those mother-hands fell away from his arm. The woman shrunk from him bi slowly distending eyes, slowly whitening a ce, At last came the hoarse whisper: ‘““What! what! You do not know?” * Alas, no!” She stood gazing at him with a great borror in hereyes. What was this terrible thing he had said? She pulled at her hands with a piteous tearing motion, while she whispered to herself: *¢ He does not know! Ho does not know!” Then, wringing Ler hancs and trembtiag, sho nto wail and moan, every quivering ex- halation rending the Learts of ail that beard her, while her eyes, brimming over with tears, were fixed upon the Gentlemen from Pike in agonized eppeal and wondering reproach, He, alr ady cru hed beneath an insupportable burden of pain, dared not raise his eyes to her face. She looked piteously at the others. Strong men all, yet helpless Lere! Dizzily she turned toward the man on whom she had learned to lean in every cmergency during that eventful teri years, gazing now into kis eyes with a dumb despair, Hoe opened his arms and clasped her close upon his treast. He had no worcs of consola- ete Can speech reach the hights of rapture or the depths cf despair? ; She shivered as with a sudden icy chill. bie her lipsat his ear, she aspirated in a hoarse w rm “Lost! Lost! Lost!” And he of whom she had demanded that which he had not to give, covered his face with his hands and proaned aloud! , Fer a time Mrs, Amberleigh’s despair was in- consolable. Then when she was calm cnough to listen, come a story of intrigue and cruelty which filled her with horror. ** But,” conc’uded he who had held his trust securcly for ten years only to lose it on the very eve of his calling to account,” while life asc M will seek her, and, when found, avenge or | A rumble of indorsement rose from the lips : of his followcrs. Weapons were grasped and bows bent wiih vindictive wrath. ‘‘Let us lose no time, but proceed in our gearch.” said the Centlemean from Pike, who since Lilian’s uLappearanee had Leen a jrey to uncontrollable restlessness. ‘‘Men, have we not horses: —” But before the words were out of his mouth, every horse in the party was at the service of their strangely-met guests. **T thank you,” said Capt. Gunnison to the men; ‘‘but [ have so long depenced solely upon the means of locomotion which nature _pro- vides, that I should feel strange in the saddle.” But the Gentleman from Pike, with the courtesy which he showed to ail women, but with a reverence and tenderness which set the mother of his darling apart from all others, ad- justed his — and placed Mis. Amberleigh in his own saddle, Then the party once more advanced, the com- mander walking beside bis guest. ‘There is one ona in this case,” pur- sued the Gentleman from Pike,” which I cannot wholly ignore, sree a my reason prevents me from falling into the popular prejudice. Of course its connection with the case in which we are most vitally concerned is purely accidental; and yet .§ bas a weird interest of its own. Who or what is this mysterious Ghost of the Canyon? Excuse me; but your strange appearance leads me to think it poh that you may be able to throw some light on the subject.” And the Gentleman from Pike looked suspi- ciously at Capt. Gunnison. ‘‘Has this man been masquerading all these years?’ he asked himself. ‘‘and frightening these credulous miners? There may be a rich mine back of this mystery, after all!’. He forgot that, when he first saw the Ghost of the Canyon, Capt. Gunnison had just en- tered the country at the head of an emigrant train. At mention of the mountain mystery, Mrs. Amberleigh uttered a suppressed murmur of fear, and involuntarily drew nearer to Capt. Gunnison. The Jatter did not wholly repress a shudder. A look of de-p gravity came over his lace, as he replied :— ‘‘ What I have to say on that subject, I will, if you please, reserve for your private ear. ‘It is natural,” he puggued, looking about on the miners, who had never for a momeut ceased to regard him and his companion with cpen- mouthed wonder and perhaps a shade of dis- trust,” that my strange appearance and long sequestration from my fellow-men should ex- cite curiosity; and perhaps some explanation is due to the world. ithout going into minute details at present, I will say that the disaster which befell my wagon train ten years since is doubtless known to most of you. ‘‘ After the subsidence of the flood, T awoke from a swoon, to find myself surrounded by darkness, and menaced by a pack of ravenous mountain wolves. My first th ught was of the lady whom [ bad attempted to save fiom the torrent, and I conceived a bewildere| notion of driving the wolves back and searching for her. Indeed, I entered upon the struggle. using a wolf, which I swung by tho hind legs, as a club with which to beat off his fellows, But as my faculties cleared—which took but a mo- ment—I saw the hopelessness of such an under- taking in the darkness, | having no idea \ | ere her hody might be, evenif she were yet clive; and I then sought to escape with my own lite. “T might not hava succeeded, but for the number of dend bodies of men and animals ly- ing about, which detained the beasts of prey As it was, I escaped through the only opening in their ranks; and at last, became conscious that I was following a being of some sort, which emitted cries even more teriible than those of the wolves. ‘But I caught the flutter of what seemed to be a woman’s garments, and conceived a half- delirious idea that Mrs. Amberlei h was being borne away by the creature, whatever it might ‘‘T then bounded in pursuit at the top of my speed, calling after it to stop. But ib ran as fleet as a deer, never looking round, if indeed it heard my voice. ‘‘How far wo ran up the canyon I do not know; but excitement sustaine!] me long after I would otherwise have dropped with exhaus- tion. ‘At last the creature stopped before the mouth of a cave, which was so hidden among the crags that it might be passed and repassed a hundred times unobserved, unless one fell up- on it by accident, or were led there by one know- ing the way. ‘Then I rushed up and seized it, determined to contest to the death the possession of the un- conscious lady it held in i's clutches. ‘Gentlemen, in the darkness I seized hold of At this point . Amberleigh covered her face with her hands, with an endible shudder of unspeak»hle horror and loat! ing. Captain Gunnison gezed upon her with a look of sad tenderness and pity. Seen thus, his ged face took on a beauty of beneficence that at onco drew the Gentleman from Pike to him. ‘*Hoe will be a worthy father and protector for my darling, when we have found her,” he reflected, sauly. ‘Alas! my efforts to protect — her will now make her position only the more embarrassing.” ’ But Captain Gurnison had resumed bis narra- ive. ‘‘ Before I had time to even let go the loath. some bcedy, the snake sprung a coil about my wrist. At the same instant the monster, whose body seemed loaded with reptiles, dropped his unconscious Lurden, and assailed me with the fury of a demon. ‘From that moment I knew nothing, until several days later, when I awoke to ccnscious- ness, to find Mrs. Amberleigh nursing me back to life. My pods was fearfully bruised and lacerated; and I had nearly bled to death. To her tender ministrations I owe my life!” Upon the woman he bent a look, not so much or gratitude, as of Geep reverential love, But back of it lay a great sadness, blended with a ‘ity so tender, so wistful, that it seemed as if ears lay just beneath bis eyelids. The woman turned her eyes upon his, In their depths lay a pee gratitude, a great trust, a great love, Lut also an ineffable sadness, a pe cous a > and wonder, a longing that seemed half reprcachful of him and half re- proechful of self. Hereyes glistened with the tears that no stern self-contro] bkeld in check. ‘‘T but returned that which you had already given to me,” she said, in low, sweet tones, her voice vibrant with a profound tenderness. Capt. Gunnison sighed, seemed to force his gaze trom hers with an effort, and then walked on in silence, his eyes on the ground, his grand face shaded with the gloom of sadness too deep for words, The man was evidently stiugglin with «motions which a weaker nature coul never experience, nor even pouencntS ‘“‘A life tragedy!” reflected the Gentleman fiom Pike, who bad heard from Lilian Amber- leigh all that the child knew of her mother’s bis- tory—only the woman’s brooding sorrow, and the atsence of the husband and father, whom the child never r¢membered to have seen; but enough to prepare him in a mensure for the in- terpretation of this situation, which he alone of the listening miners perecived. ‘It is plain that they love exch other with a love which comes only to natures of his strength and ber tenderness. What, then, bas kept them apart all these years? For they are apart—I can see that plainly enough. It is the conscientious recognition and respecting of this barrier that makes their unhappiness. What is it? Not constancy to her husband; for she loves this man. Is it an overstraining of scrupulousness Lecause she has never received positive proof o her husbana’s death? It might be this; for she was a woman whose face, umid its patient svffcring, bere the im- press of gocdness and pulity—a woman wl! om the Gentleman from Pike, with a glow at his heart, thought worthy to be the mother of bis lost dt net But Cayt. Gunnison wes again speaking. ‘*T found that we were ina valley, shut in from the rest of the world ty iraccessible peeks. For ten years I have wrcught to effect our escape ircm thet prison! Last night cur Celiverance vas cffected. Wemet you. You kiow the rest.” The wonder of Cart. Gunnison’s auditors was cnly increased by this strange story. Tre Gentleman fr1m Pike now Lurned with cul ert to learn that confidence which the sti: rgely «xiled man bad promised lim tcuch- ing tle Glcst ef the Canyon. Who, what, was this mystericus monster, and what agency had le—or it—lad in sl utting this man and woman up from the world fora decades “Shall we go in advance?’ he asked Capt. Gunriscn, bis curiotity ay pearing in :ycs and vcice, ‘Tf you please,” was the reply. Mrs. Anterleigh wculd Lave kept beside the man of wlom, by rerson of their long seclu- sion. she seemed a necessary pert; but, witb en inc ff: ble gentleness in teuch and voice, he put his hand on her shoulder ard said: ‘‘Madoline, do not feel hurt if I ask you to remain behind with the others while I talk with this gentleman. You now t! at I would not make the request without weig] tv reason. We will rej in <u in a few minutcs,” Through his voice vitrated a tender depreca- tion which, to the Gentleman from Pike, seemed more than tke occasion called for. Later he understood it fully. With a lock of questioning surprise, yet per- fect trust, Mrs. Amberleigh yielded compliance; but her wistful eyes never left the gentlemen as they walked in advance. in low, earnest conver- sation. What was the revelation being made? CHAPTER XXXV. A WICKED WOMAN’S DOOM. Mrs. SEAFORD was pacing her room in a state of high excitement, when a small pebble fell upon the floor, coming through the open window. Divining that it was a signe], she hastened to the window and peered out into the darkness. Relow stood a manin a rough winer’s dress, He made a quick motion with his hand, and then moved away down the street. It was midnight; but, without a mement’s | JOO (E() MiG SS) (0)