Beadle's New York Dime Library, Vol. II, No. 15 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

6B The New York Libra a —— a giass of champagne, which he emptied at a draught, crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair, and waited. ‘““And now, gentlemen,’ the baron said, in his sarcastic and incisive voice, ‘‘ as our friend De Lorailles has told us his history, and we are becoming confidential, why should not I tell you mine? The weatheris fearful—it is raining torrents. Here we are, comfortably tiled in: we have champagne and regalias—two excellent things when not abuse What have we better todo? ‘ No- thing,’ I hear you say. Listen to me, then, for I believe hat I have to tell you will in- terest you the more, because some among you will not be vexed to know the whole , truth about me.”’ The majority of the guests burst into a laugh at this remark. hen their hilarity was calmed the baron resumed: ‘* As for the first part of my story, I shall imitate the count’s brevity. My ancestors in the middle ages were, to a certain extent, freebooters. True blood always shows it- self. When my last resources were nearly exhausted, my instincts were aroused, and my eyes fixed on America. In less than ten years I amassed there the colossal fortune which I now have the distinguished honor, not of dissipating—the lesson was too rude, and I profited by it—but of spending in your honorable company, while careful to keep my capital intact.” ‘* But,” the count exclaimed impatiently, “* how did you amass this colossal fortune, as ne yourself term it?’ The baron coolly looked around at the party. “* In the first place let us drink a glass of rR my te to our friend’s success,’ he said, in his sarcastic tone. The glasses were filled and emptied again in a twinkling, so yreat was the curiosity of the auditors. After putting down his glass before him the baron lighted a regalia, and, turning to the count, said to him: “Tam now addressing myself more par- ticularly to you, my friend. You are young, enterprising, gifted with an iron Gatigtkiation and an energetic will. if death does not thwart your plans, you will succeed, whatever may be the enter- prises you undertake, or the objects you propose to yourself. In the life you are about to begin, the principal cause of suc- cess, I may say almost the only one, is a thorough knowledge of the ground on which you are about to maneuver, and the society you propose entering. If, on my entrance upon that adventurous life, I had possessed the good fortune of meeting a friend willing to initiate me into the mysteries of my new existence, my fortune would have heen made five years earlier. In the first place, ar down this principle: the people amon whom you are going to liveare your natura enemies. This laid down, your line of con- duct is ready traced. There is no project, however extravayant it may appear, which in that country does not offer chances of success; for the means of execution are im- meuse, and almost impossible of control. Do not think I intend to send you into ac- tion without a cuirass. No, no, I will give you one, and magnificently tempered, too, I assure you.”’ All those present looked with amazement on this man, who had grown enormously in their esteem in afew moments. The baron feigned not to perceiye the impression he produced, and in a minute or so he con- tinued, laying a stress on every word, as if wishful to engrave it more deeply on the eount’s memory: ‘¢ Remember what [ am about to tell you, it is of the utmost importance for you not to forget a word, my friend; for on that posi- tively depends the success of your trip to the ew World.” _“ Speak—I am not losing a syllable!’ the eount interrupted him with a species of fe- brile impatience. ““ When strangers began to flock to Amer- lea, a company of bold fellows was formed, without faith or law, without pity as with- out weakness, who, denying all nationality, as they issued from every people, only re- eognized one government, that which they themselves instituted on Tortoise Island, a desolate rock, lost in the middle of the mighty ocean—a monstrous government ; for violence was its basis, and it only admit- ted of right being might. These bold com- panions, attached to each other by 2 Draco- nian charter, assumed the yame of Brethren ° of the Coast, and were divided into two elasses—the Buccaneers and the Filibusters. ‘“‘ The buccaneers, wandering through the gies forest, hunted oxen, flag, plundering every veseel under the pre- text of making war on the Spaniards, but in reality Ph the rich for the benefit of the poor—the only means they discovered to restore the balance between the two elesses. The Brethren of the Coast, contin- lam convinced that, - while the. libusters scoured the seas, attacking every ually recruited from all the rogues of the ola world, became powerful. At last, when the maritime nations recognized their own strength, the Brethren of the Coast grew gradually weaker, and finally disappeared entirely. By forcing them into pada it was supposed that they were not merely conquered, but annihilated ; but it was not 80, as you shall now see. They were not destroyed, but transformed. They yielded with extraordinary cleyerness to the exigen- cies of that progress which threatened to Outstrip them: they had changed their skiu —from tigers they had become foxes, The Brethren of the Coast were converted into Dauph’ yeers. Instead of boldly boarding the enemies’ ships, sword and hatchet in hand, as they formerly did, they became in- significant, and dug mines. At the present day the Dauph’yeers are the masters and kings of the New World; they are nowhere and eyerywhere, but they reign; their in- fluence is felt in all ranks of society; they are found on every rung of the ladder but are never seen. Their power is immense, the more so because it is secret, ignored, and almost denied, which displays their strength. For a secret society to be denied existence is a real power. Such have the Brethren of the Coast become, in less than two centuries, by the force of progress!” There was a lengthened silence: each was reflecting on what he had just heard. The baron himself had buried his face in his hands, and was lost in that world of ideas he had evoked, and which now assailed him in a mass with sensations of mingled pain and bitterness. The distant sound of a rapidly approach- ing vehicle recalled the count to the gravity of the situation. ‘‘Here is my chaise,’ he said. ‘‘l am about to set out, and I know nothing.”’ “Patience!” the baron replied. ‘* Take leave of your friends, and we will start.” Yielding, in spite of himself, to the in- fluence of this singular man, the count obey: ed, without dreaming of offering the slight- est opposition. He rose, embraced each of his old friends, exchanged with them hearty hand-shak ogs, and leit the room, followed by the baron. The post-chaise was waiting in front of the house. The night was gloomy, though the rain’no longer fell; the sky was black ; and the ygas-jets glinted feebly in the dis- tance like stars lost in a fog. ‘‘ Come, my friend,’’ the baron said, as he helped him to enter the carriage, ‘I will ac- company you to the barrier.” The count got in and fell back on a cush- On. “The Normandy road,” the baron shout- ed tothe postillion, as he shut the door. The driver cracked his whip, and the chaise sturted at a gallop. For a long time the two men remained si- lent. At length the baron took the word. ‘*Gaétan !’’ he said, ‘‘I have not yet fin- ished my narrative.” “Tt is true. Speak,’’ the count muttered, distractedly. ‘“*My friend, if you desire success, the friendship and protection of those Dauph’- yeers [ mentioned are indispensable for ou.” ‘How can I obtain them—I, a wretched stranger? How I tremble on thinking of the country in which 1 dreamed of creating such a glorious future! The vail that covered my eyes is fallen, » ILsee the extray- agance of my projects, and all hope aban- dons me.” ‘“* Already ?”’ the baron exclaimed, sternly. “Child without energy, to abandon a con- wih Ring before having engaged in it! man without strength and courage! I will give ou the means, if you like, of obtaining the | riendship and protection so necessary for you.”’ ‘You!’ the count said, quivering with excitement. “Yes, I! Do you fancy that I have been amusing myself with torturing your mind for the last two hours, like the jaguar plays with the lamb, for the mere pleasure of de- riding you? No, Gaétan. If you had that thought, you were wrong, for I am fond of you. When you this night frankly avowed to us your position, and explained your plans, my heart beat; for a moment I was happy : and then I vowed to open to you that path 80 wide, 80 great, so noble, that if you do not succeed, it will be because you do not desire to do so.” “Oh!” the count said, energetically, ‘I may succumb in the contest which begins this day between yee and humanity at a 8 but fear nothing, my friend; I will fall nobly and like'a man of co e.”? “Tam persuaded of it, my friend. I have only a few more words to say to you. I, too, was a Dauph’yeer, and am so still. . Thanks to my brethren, 1 eaae the fortune I now possess. Take this portfolio; put round your neck this chain, from which a > ry. ‘ medallion hangs; then, when you are alone, read the instructions contained in the port- folio, and act as they prescribe. If you fol- low them poiut for point, I guarantee you success. ‘That is the paeacht I reserved for you, and which I would not give you till we were alone.” ‘Oh heavens !”’ the count said, with effu- sion. “Here we are at the barrier,’’ the baron remarked, as he stopped the carriage. ‘‘ It is time for us to separate. Farewell, my friend! Courage and good-will! Embrace me. Aboye all, remember the portfolio and the medallion.” The two men remained for a long time in each other’s arms. At length the baron freed himself by a vigorous effort, opened the door, and leaped out on the pavement. ‘‘Parewell!’’ he cried, for the last time; “farewell, Gaétan! Remember me.”’ The post-chaise was bowling along the high-road at full speed. Strange to say, both men muttered the same word, shaking their heads with discouragement, when the found themselves alone—one walking at full speed along the footpath, the other buried in the cushions. That word was, ‘‘ Perhaps!” ' The reason was that, despite all their ef- _ forts to deceive each other, neither of them hoped, CHAPTER V THE DAUPH’ YEERS. Now Jet us quit the old world, and, taking an immense stride, transport ourselves to the new one ata single leap. There is in America a city which possibly can not be compared to any other in the whole world. It is Valparaiso. Although built on the Chilian coast, this strange city belongs, in fact, to no country, and recognizes no nationality; or, to speak more correctly, it admits all into its bosom. At Valparaiso the adventurers of every clime have given each other the meeting. All tongues are spoken there, every branch of trade carried on. In one of the dirtiest and worst-famed streets of Valparaiso was a house, which ws ask the reader’s permission to describe in u few words. It was a clay-bnilt hovel. The front looked upon the Street de la Merced; the opposite side had an outlook of the sea, above which it projected fora certain dis tance upon posts. This house was inhabited by an innkeeper Contrary to European buildings, which grow smaller the higher they rise from the ground, this house grew larger ;. so that the upper part was lofty and well-lighted, while the shop and other ground-floor rooms were confined and gloomy. The present occupier had skillfully profit- ed by this architectural arrangement to have aroom made in the wall between the first and second floors, which was reached bya turning stair-case, concealed in the masonry. This room was so built that the slightest noise in the street distinctly reached the ears of persons in it, while stifling any they might make, however loud it might be. he worthy landlord, occupier of this house, had naturally a rather mixed custom of people of every description—smugglers, rogues, and others, whose habits might bring them into unpleusant difficulties with the Chilian police; consequently, a whale- boat constantly fastened to a ring under a window opening on the sea, offered a pro- visional but secure shelter to the customers of the establishment whenever, by any acci- dent, the ayents of government evinced a desire to pay a domiciliary visit to this den. This house was known by the name of the Locanda del Sol. On an iron plate suspended from a beam, and creaking with eyery breath of wind, there had been painted by a native artist a huge red face, surrounded by orange beams, possibly intended as an explanation of the sign to which | have alluded above. Sefor Benito Sarzuela, master of the Lo- canda de] Sol, was a tall, dry fellow, with an angular face and crafty look—a mixture of the Araucano, Negro, and Spaniard; he eombined in himself tie vices of the three races to which he belonged—red, black and white—without posseesing one single vir- tue of theirs; and beneath the shadow of an avowed and almost honest trade he car- ried on clandestinely some twenty, the most innocent of which would have taken him to the galleys for life, had he been discovered. Some two months after the events we de- scribed in a previous chapter, about eleven of the clock on a cold and misty night, Sefior Benito Sarzuela was seated in melan- choly mood within his bar, contemplating with mournful eye the deserted room of hia establishment. The meom ebooksnc € (0)