Beadle's Dime Library No. 146 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

/ but a tool whom he has placed to watch you so that you will not be able to escape in case your suspicions are excited and you endeavor to get away. This Lescant is a bold, bad man, and being provided with plenty of money, which I am sure he never got in any honest way, he is enabled to do much mischief if he feels inclined, for, let people talk as they will, money is the most powerful agent in this world.. I have often heard my husband speak of Lescanit as Le- ing a dangerous man, utterly unscrupulous and re less of what he did so long as he accom- hed the parpers which he had in view; in act, I have heard him say more than once that be should not be surprised if Lescant got him- self hanged at last; yet, so strange are the ways of world and of the men who inhabit it, that the judge and this man are supposed to be the best of friends,” ‘*Oh, madam, you are so good to come to my assistance !” Dura exclaimed, grateful tears standing in her eyes. ‘It is my duty, and I should be false to my sex if I did not interfere to save such an inno- cent, tender lamb as you are from the jaws of this ravening wolf.” What shallI do? Advise me, forI am ut- terly helpless,” she moaned, ‘* You must manage to escape in some way from this man’s power.” ‘* But where shall I go, and what shall I do? Iam utterly friendless, you know; not a single soul in all this wide world to whom I can fly for assistance. Even the very clothes I wear are bought Kbicg money of this man.” ‘No, my child, you are wrong; you are not utterly friendless,” the other replied, impres- sively; ‘‘thereis a Providence, just and kind, who rules the fates of us poor humans in this busy world, although cere: men, in their wisdom, deride the belief and think that we are but the children of chance, This man, who so cruelly would make you his victim, is one of the kings of the world who thinks that cunning force and accident alone rule the destinies o life. Now I, a woman, will teach him that his doctrine is not true. I am your friend; from me you shall have all the assistance you re- quire, and my home is open to you whenever you may need its shelter!” ‘‘Oh, madam, you are an angel indeed!” cried Dura, falling from the chair and kneeling at the feet of the beautiful matron whose gar- ments she clasped. ‘‘ How can lever repay this kindness, or thank you for the service that you have rendered?” ‘‘ No thanks to me, child, but address your acknowledgments to the Just Being, whose all- seeing eye noteth even the sparrow’s fall.” The girl bowed her face in her hands and sobbed piteously for a few moments, while the judge’s wife looked down upon her in tender 2x one ** Dry your tears, my child,” she said, after a moment's pause. ** You must summon your best ves Ma for you will probably need all the strength of will you posse:s. You must leave this man’s house as soon as possible, and come at once tome. Hereis my card; I will pencil my residence upon it,” which she immediate] did. Then, opening her pocket-book, she took out a roll of billsand counted out fifty dollars which she placed in Dura’s hand. ‘ Here is money, for you may need it; money is the golden key which very few locks in this world are strong enough to resist.” ‘‘ But, madam, to take this large sum, from you and I a perfect stranger!” the girl ex- claimed, in broken tones, touched to the heart by the generosity of the friend who had in such an unexpe manner come to her aid. “You are in terrible peril, and I should be unworthy the name of woman if I hesitated to come to your assistance. Take the money, then, without hesitation—as freely as itis ten- dered. You may need it and I can readily spare the sum. It is my own money, not my husband’s. I have property in my own right and am not compelled to go to him when I re- quire funds, en you are once in my house ou can laugh at the malice of this man, and if he should be mad enough to attempt to take you from there, my husband will very speedily send him away with ‘a flea in his e@i*’” ‘‘“Madam, Heaven surely is watching over my footsteps When it has sent such a friend as yourself to aid me.” ‘‘ Doubt not that the Lord is good and great, and that all the powers of darkness dealh not prevail against Him. But come; put away your money and dry your eyes. What course do you intend to pursue?” ‘‘T do not know; what course would you ad- vise?” ‘* A bold ome is always the best. Say nothing until you reach home; then ask him to grant you an interview, and tell him frankly that you have concluded not to remain under his roefany longer. It is idle to disguise the fact, may child; this unblushing rascal is trying to make every one believe that you are his victim; T am sure of it from what my husband said, although he did not seem to want to talk about the matter. No doubt he will try to persuade you to stop, and may attempt to bluster and ‘frighten you; but, keep perfectly calm, and in- ———— The Doctor Detective. sist upon leaving, and if he is anxious to know where you intend going you are at liberty to mention my name. I presume my husband, the judge, will not like my interfering in the matter, as this man, I believe, ; some political influence which is valuable about elec- tion time; but, for once, politics must give way to justice, At any rate, | have taken up your cause and I will fight for you to the best of my ability. Remember, I will be on the watch for you to-night, Ido not think Lescant will dare use force to prevent you quitting the house, because such a course would bring himin contact with the law, and I fancy he is one of that class of men who are not anxious to figure in a police court. Be firm and you surely will succeed in escaping from this terrible trap into which you have been so cunningly led.” Then there was the sound of footsteps ascend- ing the stairs without, and Mrs, McQuencher glided away. It was Lescant, as she had suspected. He was somewhat out of humor at his failure to in- terview the judge; but, how much greater would have been his discomfiture if be only had known what had taken place in his absence. He was so annoyed at not being able to get hold of the judge that he was not observant as usu.l, or else he surely would have detected upon the girl’s face the *traces of the emotional excitement through which she had just passed, but, busy with his own thoughts, he harJly glanced at her as be announced that the repast was ready. They descended to the dining-room, where a most sumptuous lunch had been provided, flanked, too, by rare and costly wines. Neither of the pair, though, were in a con- dition to enjoy the meal. The girl was so much agitated by the awful disclosure which the judge’s wife had made that she could hardly force herself to swallow the delicious food, and Leseant, an epicure by nature, was so coma pies by gloomy thoughts that he did not relish the dai ty dishes which had taxed all the powers of one of the best French cooks in the country to prepara. The man was a fatalist—a firm believer in presentiments, and ever since he had caught sight of the face of the judge's wife he had been uneasy in his mind. e had no reason to expect that evil to him would come from her, but his inward monitor warned him that danger was lurking in the future, and that the biow would come from the hand of Mrs, Judge McQuencher, The idea seemed ridiculous, yet he could net shake it off. CHAPTER XXX. SPEAKING OUT, SOME sage who had studied closely the lives of the famous great men who have played prominent parts in the world’s drama has re- marked that at certain times when affairs of great moment have been pending, these men of iron will, quick brains and wonderful activity have yielded to irresolution, when circumstances demanded the full exercise of all their powers, and this fatal want of action, like a paralysis, brought about their final overthrow. And on this occasion, Lescant, usually the man of active brain and quick purpose, al- though fully convinced that evil was ing in the future, could not for the hfe of him think of any steps to take which might avert the evil. All that be could do was to brood over the affair and wonder how soon and from what di- Se ve my why pean mene ob n e girl, too, y in plannin how she had best carry out the scheme in her mind, was in no mood for conversation, there- fore few words passed between the two on the homeward road. Dura, having decided to wait until after dark before she quitted the house, it was not? until supper had ended and she and the gentleman had sought the parlor that she framed her thoughts in words. Cool by habit and iron-faced by long practice as he was, Lescant could not help betraying con- siderable annoyance when tke girl made known to him that she had concluded it would be im- ble for her to accept the proposition which e had made. ‘“My dear ene lady, are you not actin rather hastily in this matter?’ he demand ‘* Are you sure that you have given the affair due consideration?” | | | | ae man appears who has the requisite social posi- tion, and the woman feels that he is such a man as she can respect, she marries, trusting that love will come afterward, which, as a general rule, proves to be the case.” Carefully as this view was presented, the wo- manly instincts of the girl recoiled from it. ‘‘{t is impossible!” shecried. ‘1 could never bring myself to consent to such aunion. Te stamd before the altar and swear to such a iis would surely bring down the wrath of an out- raged Heaven.” espite his efforts to conceal his feelings be- neath the mask of indifference, the contempt :¢ felt for such school-girl ideas was plainly ap- parent in bis face, but, he did not attempt to debate the question with her. rs PS wis to abandon my protection, then?” ** Yes. ‘“Have you calculated the cost of such a pro- ceeding?” ‘*T have.” “Going out all alone in the world to battle for your daily bread, exposed to a thousand perils and temptations?” ‘Where in this world can we go and not be e to périls and temptations?” quick glint of fire shot from the steely orbs of the man; for the first time he began to have an idea why the girl was so obstinate about going away. ’ ‘“* Despite your willfulness in this matter, I still take a great interest in your welfare,” he observed in his smoothest and softest way, and if the girl had known him well she wo have understood that he was infinitely more danger- ous than if he had displayed violent anger. ‘* And, under the circumstances, I trust you will excuse a few questions. What do you pro- to do? How can you thrust yourself out into the “bustling, heartless world without money—without even a single friend! How can you live while you are looking about for an oc- cupation?”’ At first, Dura thought it would be best to leave ber questioner in ignorance in regard to © the friend who had so uncxpectedly come to her; but deception was something foreign to her nature; and she remembered, too, that the judge’s wife had given a gpa to men- tion her name, so she replied to the question as frankly as possible. ‘‘l am not utterly friendless, and I am of- fered a home until I can proves for myself.” Lescant was amazed; this was altogether un- expected. ‘You are fortunate,” he remarked; ‘‘may I ask who is the friend?” nas ** Mrs, Judge McQuencher.” The name startled him, pnd for a moment his face became hard and dark; ugly lines appeared about the mouth andeyes. Theblow oe come at last; his instincts had not deceived him, Then, in reply to his question, Dura explained how she had chanced to become acquainted with the lady, while Lescant, mentally cursed the evil luck which had led to the meeting. His wits were in good working order now, and already he bad thought of a way to parry this extremely effective blow. ‘*Do you wish to go now?” he asked. ‘If you please,’ Dura replied, astonishe’ that she was getting away so easily, for, trom what Mrs. Maldencher had said, she had a::- ticipated having’a stormy time. *I allow you to go without question—with- out raising any objectic.r, because I know vuban you will return.” The girl was amazed at the confident air with which the words were uttered, but she did nt reply ; she was content to escape so easily, _ ‘*AmT at liberty to depart?’ she asked, r!s- ing. ‘* Ob, yes, if you like; but you will return, [| am older than you—bave seen more of tha world and am better calculated to look into the future. lam well acquainted with the judge and only slightly with Mrs. McQuexzcher. I knew her te be a brilliant, show now I perceive she is also a meddlesome one as well. It does not matter, though: go if you like. When you meet the judge, ibly you wala that he is a safer celle Aban his e. The cool words, so calmly spoken, filled the mind of the girl with a certain almost undefin- able dread. She was free apparently—free to depart, and yet this seemingly indifferent man still held sonae secret power over her. 'Cobwelb- ‘Oh, yes; I have weighed the matter well | like, now, was the bond, for she easily brushed and I am satisfied I cannot accept the life you offer me. ‘* You do not think that you will ever learn to love me?” “T fear not.” ich | it aside, yet she had a presentimemi that, when he willed, is would beeome steel-like in its tex- ture and effectually restrain ber, despite her re- sistanee. The desire then to leave the hoxse—to escape ‘‘ Remember, I ana willing to take the risk of | from the presence of this man—to test whether that,” he remarked. ‘“ When, my dear girl, you have lived as many years as I have you will understand that in mine cases oat of ten a marriage is not a leve-match. Nine brides out of ten do net really love their husbands when they marry them. A few, perbaps, may think they d y, remantic girls, you know, but, in the majority of cases,a woman es for a home aud a social pesition. Marriage, naturally, is the end and aim of a woman’s lite; when the | ; ! | the presentiraent was really trath or omly the idje imagination of an overwrought brain—be- came a mania, She hastened to put on her hat and clonk: Leseant saw her to the door and bade her » ood- by in the most friendly manner possible; he even offered to get out carriage so that she might ride, but she declined. “Well, as you please; but it is no trovble, and the horses will have to be harnessed, any- EGOMIGNOOCKS woman, but | (E(e) o*