Beadle's Dime Library No. 152 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

~ : iain Captain Ironnerve, the Counterfeiter C Chief. 3 when Lorna struck it, it sent forth a hollow sound; but still no answer came. Suddenly she remembered she was to strike it four times, with a pause between the third and fourth strokes, and accordingly she rapped again. This time the reply was immediate. A door, so well concealed that the closest inspection would have failed to discoverit, flew open, and a rough, rasping voice within called out: “What do ye want?” Lorna sprung back in dismay when the door opened so suddenly and the harsh voice spoke to her, but recovering herself quickly, she came to the opening. ‘* Vega sent me,” was all she said, and a lit- tle shriveled, dried-up specimen of humanity slipped through the aperture. Lorna started back with a cry of alarm at this ungainly spectacle, but the stranger mere- ly gave utterance to a hollow chuckle, that sounded like the rattle of skeleton’s bones, and stuck out his long bony fingers. ‘“*'You’re Lorna, Isuppose., What does Vega want?’ ‘* Are you Baldo?’ asked Lorna, instead of replying to his question. “ Yes—I’m Baldo.” If he had stood erect he might have meas- ured five feet or more, but he was so bent that he looked no more than four. Little black, beady eyes peered from under a pair of white, shaggy eyebrows, and though the hair was missing from the top of his head, yet it grew in abundance around the sides cf the scalp and fell in long, snowy, unkempt ringlets over his shoulders. His bent form rested itself upon a knotted stick, and alto- gether Old Baldo looked a veritable ‘‘ Nick-o’- the- Woods.” ‘* Vega died this morning,” said Lorna, as soon as the old man assured her of his identity, ‘‘and she told me to come to you,” “* He-he-he!”. chuckled Baldo. ‘‘Dead, eh? ‘Well, we’ve all got to die some time. I s’pose you want me to bury her, eh? Come inside, child, an’ Pll go with you soon. He, he, he! Dead.” And Baldo hobbled, rather than walked, into the tree, closely followed by Lorna. Meanwhile, other scenes of equal interest were being enacted, and as they will event- ually have to do with our story, I will describe them at once. When Ralph Gordon turned from the seene of the Gipsy’s hut and strode off through the woods, he was busily thinking where such a beauty as the one he had just seen could spring from, and why it was hidden away in this dense forest, whose solitude was seldom pene- trated. ‘‘Surely Crandyl cannot be aware of her presence,” he mused, as he walked lsisurely on- ward through the brightening day; and there was more meaning in that half-spoken sentence than he would have confessed even to himself, “Somehow,” he continued, “this girl has destroyed my taste for hunting for to-day. By Jove! she was a beauty, though, and no mis- take. I'll go back. to the Lodge and tell the folks of my diseovery.”’ He branched off, and, taking a short out, walked rapidly toward the point. at which he was stopping. Ralph Gordon, at first sight, would not be pronounced even good-looking, but, as one be- . came acquainted with him, the charm of his manner, his easy grace, and firm, determined spirit so influenced those about him, that he was invariably spoken of among his friends as | handsome. He was tall and splendidly built, and walked ag though if necessary he could spring forward at any instant. His hair was inky in its black- ness and clustered in wavy curls arounda broad forehead, whcse clearness _ was considerably “darkened by constant exposure to the sun and wind. A jet-black mustache shaded a pair of than red lips, set tightly together in a straight | ne that plainly indicated an unbending spirit, = bh most remarkable fegiure of the man i 54 aa! carriage was erect and noble, eyes. , «wt . They. were ‘of a deep. gray, ‘set wide. apart, wasa} d nabiens about them tbat held. von -bound when he was talk-. and shaded by long black lashes. subtle it se easy, careless, man of the world was Ralph Gordon, and yet possessing a nature whose intensity all feared to arouse, He was but a short time traversing the dis- tance that separated him from Laurel Lodge. as the place was called, and as he crossed the beautiful flower-garden that surrounded it, a pleasant feminine voice called out: ** What! sosoon, Ralph?” “Yes,” he replied, without turning to look back. ‘‘I don’t fe@l ina hunting mood to-day.” He kept steadily on to his room, and reaching it, threw off his coat and hat and stretched himself upon a sofa. “Strange!” he muttered. “ Why does that girl’s face haunt me so? Can it be possible that I have seen it before? By Jove! I have it,” and hastily going to his dressing-case, he lifted an inlaid box from one of the drawers and proceeded to rummage,among a number of pho- tographs that it contained. He sat there some time, slowly turning the pictures over, when, suddenly uttering his fa- vorite. exclamation, he extracted one, and going with it to the window, gazed at it a mo- ment in silence, ‘‘Humph!” he exclaimed, finally, “nothing could be more like.” It was the exact counterpart of Lorna, the Gipsy’s granddaughter, and as he gazed at it, Ralph Gordon muttered: ‘‘There is some mystery about this. It is exactly Jike the ‘Wood-Nymph,’ and it looks deucedly like my Lady Lorna, too; and, now that I think of it, those girls look enough, alike to be twin sisters. What the deuce does it mean?’ ‘** What does what mean?’ asked a voice be- hind him, and turning suddenly, Ralph found himself face to face with Gordon Crandyl. ‘* Why, this,” said RajJph. “Here is a pic- ture I have had in my possession for the last ten years, and now I find a little elf running about your woods who not only looks like it, but of whom it is the exact counterpart, and yet again it resembles Lorna, your daughter.” Crandyl took the picture in his band, but dropped it.as if it. had been a coal of fire, and started back with a cry of dismay. “Where did you get that picture?” he gasped; and he bent eagerly forward to hear the reply. ‘‘T have forgotten exactly how I became possessed of it,” said Ralph; ‘“ but I have had it a long ‘time.—But what is the matter, man?” Gordon Crandyl was as white as a sheet, and he trembled in every limb, but an ugly frown was upon his brow as he bent forward and said, in a hard, grinding tone: ‘‘You took that picture from among my effects; you stole it!” The last words were almost hissed into Ralph’s ears, so excited was the man before him. Ralph Gordon sprung forward when Crandyl uttered that insulting speech, and catching him by the throat, hurled bim in a heap to the end of the room. ““Gordon Crandyl, you lie!” he exclaimed, ashe flung him down. ‘I would kill some nien forfless than that. Leave me! The fallen man rose slowly to his feet and glared at the younger one. ‘You will repent that blow, bitterly,” he said, as he turned to leaye the apartment. ‘‘-You are deeper in my toils than you think, Ralph Gordon, and as sure as there is a God I will tighten them.” Ralph quietly turned his back to him He had regained his usual self-control, and all the men in. Christendom could not rufile his temper into another outbreak. Gordon Crandyl left the room, muttering. -CHAPT ER IIL. A FALSE CHARGE. In one of the elegant mansions in Richmond was the scene of another death-bed, not unlike the one in our first chapter, except for the splendor which surrounded it, and moreover, the sufferer was a man, He was pale and emaciated with long suffer- ing,, nd now that the end was approaching, his éyes were closed tightly and he seemed ut- | y oblivivus 10 everything around him. ; “The doctors bad said he might last days or eyen weeks yet, or he might pass away in an hour or, at any moment, so uncertain was his aul Leonard’s life had been a oetiat one, and now he was fast nearing t bourn from which no traveler returns.” _A drop-light, designed for the sick- -room, cheated me out of my revenge. ° bal berned ts. on the center table, and near ‘it, with a book resting on her lap sat a young girl, evidently lost in meditation, for the leaves . of the book fluttered idly backward and for- ward in the soft breeze that ever and anon came rustling through the open casement. Presently she lifted the book and turning over several pages she comes to a letter which she opens and reads for perhaps the twentieth time. It was written in aclear, bold, masculine hand ‘and reads like this: ** LAUREL LopGE, July 2ist, 18—. “My Dear Covsry LILiANn “Thad aserious misunderstanding with Crandy! last evening, and if convenient I would like to spend afew days with you and uncle Paul, until the affair blows over. We were both excited and neither ac- countable for what we said or did, and although this property is as much mine as bis, still'I would like to vacate for a, time for the sake of the tempers of both. Ifrust uncle Paul is better and that he may eventually recover, -- Affectionately vour relative, LPH GORDON.” The letter had come early the day before and Lillian had replied to it immediately, urging her cousin—for such Ralph Gordon appeared to be—to make all haste and come as soon as possible, and if trains had proven themselves on time he would be there in a few minutes, Even while she was reading the letter, there was a sharp ring at the door-bell and presently a servant softly entered the room and an- nounced “Mr. Ralph Gordon” and quietly withdrew. Hastily smoothing back her blonde tresses, Lillian cast a loving glance at the sick man, who was to all appearances sleeping quietly, and left the room, gently closing the door be- hind her, She had scarcely accomplished the above action however when the curtains that hung in graceful folds about the windows were rudely pushed aside from one of them, and the figure of a man glided quickly toward the bed- side. He might have seen as many as fifty years come and go, but the vigor of his frame and . the agility of his movements were as supple and cat-like as though he were still a young man. In stature he was scarcely more than five feet, low, dark brows; round, bullet head, covered with short, crisp black hair, slightly touched by the frosts of the winters they bad passed through. Jn his right band he bore a long, murderous looking knife. Approaching the bed he laid his hand rough- ly on the brow of the sick man. ‘Wake up, Paul Leonard!” he said, in a gruff, rasping voice. “ You and I have got an account to settle which must be settled to-night. There is interest for sixteen years standing on the debt you owe me, and by — I'll have it!” With a start Paul Leonard opened his eyes and gazed affrightedly at the speaker. “Who are you?” he said. ‘My eyes are dim—I cannot see you.” Well, you will soon feel me,” answered the gruff voice, ice, and this time the man on the bed trembled violently. - “Can it be possible that it is Mengari’s voice I héar?” he said, more to himself than’ to the figure beside him. “Tt is more than possible; it is the simple fact; Mengari, now Jim Munger! dead to you for sixteen years, has come back to torture your last moments on earth, for I see I was just in time, or the Almighty would have Say your prayers, old man, for Iam going to kill you,” “Mercy—mercy!” moaned the dying man trying to raise his hands to his tormentor, but the muscles were too nearly worn’ otit and the withered members tell’ back into the'beti-clothes helplessly. ‘*Mercy 1” sneered the intruder. “Dia you give it when my poor sister’ hed upon her knees at your ‘feet and ged for it for the sake of her child?- “you givo it when Tom Gordon, your own nephew anid my bes frend ue everything he had in os] wor ur hands for safe keeping? ha! he ee as well have thrown it in ithe Sates" rvation; and did rou show mei ega, the ‘Gipsy, came ‘A you HO to little granddaughter cline ith starving condition to the folds of her tees! Nor yo cast them from *you—and why? Ah, you shudder't’ bécarise you knew that that child had_as.much claim on you as it had on Veg eget kw go it out. You w that I was alive. But I am alive ‘aha Shere! to make you suffes. “Mercy? Ha, ha, ha! this Malt ete $3 I give knew she could not find ~ co NIGDOOKSAG