Beadle's Dime Library, No. 198 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

24 “Well, you are getting along, sis, for that speech was wortby some old woman; but Frank isan elegant fellow, and he loves you devotedly.” ‘‘ Loves me?” She spoke with intense surprise, ‘* Yes, with all his heart.” “ But Iam only a child,” “You are old enough to have already had | offers of marriage from Morgan Massey and | several others.”’ Sbe blushed, but made no reply, and her brother continued: “ Massey isa g od fellow, sis, but he is not the man for you. ‘* Forrester is a dashing, noble-hearted fel- jow, and the very man to make you happy, and I hope you will acce;t him.” * He hus not asked me to do so.” ‘‘ But he will, for, like the true man. he is, | he came first to ask my consent, knowing that cur fath-r—for Mr. Massey told him—had left the right to me to bestow your hand.” ‘In was strange that my father never thought that [ would like to have a choice,” said Mab. 1, bitterly. ‘He felt that I would only select for you a man you could love and honor, and such a one is Frank Forr ster.” ‘- Where does Mr, Forrester live, Mark?” ‘« Mostly upon his yacht, cruising, for he is an untiring yachtsman; but be has an elegant suit of rooms in New Orleans, where he lives when on shore.” “Where is he from?’ ‘‘ Boston, I believe, is his native place; in fact, I know that it is, for be belongs toa fine old family there.” ‘‘Do you know much about him?’ persisted Mabel. ‘Yes, he was a middy on a war vessel duriug the war with England for a while, and was promoted for gallantry to be second officer ou a privateer. ‘¢ At the close of the war he was not eighteen and possessing a large fortune, built a yacht and cruised northward.” ‘* He is rich, then?’ “ Very rich.” ‘* And it is your wish that I marry him?’ ‘* Yes, Mabel.” _ “ Well, asI do not love any one, and Mr, Forrester is your friend, Mark, and you can control my marriage in a measure, if I caro for my inheritance, which I do, I will promise to do as you deem best for me,” Without another word, Mabel left the room, little dreaming what a web was being woven in which to insnare ber, for, not really know- inz what love was, feeling that the one person she could love was divided from her by a gulf rieituer could ever cross, she was willing to be led to the sacrifice, never dreaming what that sacrifice might be. = wee ee a st, CC LLL LE THE PLOT TO DESTROY. ‘“Werwu. Mark, what said your fair sister?’ The question was put by Frank Forrester, who lolled in an easy-chair in his room, puf- fing large curls of tobaccosmoke up toward the ceiling. Mark Mortimer had just entered his room, and he knew that he had been having a talk with Mabel. “She said, as she loved no one, but liked you better than any one else, if asked by Mr. Frank Forrester to become his wife, she would consent,” “Bravo! then our idea that she cared for | Wyndham was wrong?’ said Mr. Forrester, | with more excitement of manner than he was | wont to exhibit. | ‘Yes, wholly so.” | ‘But whea will the fair beauty honor me with ber hand?” ‘* That you must arrange between you; but as my father has so recently died, I must ask | that you await some little time.’’ | ‘¢] will be pleased to acquiesce wholly in the | wishes of Miss Mortimer.” | | ‘Will you go North to live after you have | married, for 1 believe you said you would give | up your roving life now?’ | ‘Yes, so 1 said, and I shall do so, but 1 | shall not go to Boston to live.” ‘Indeed! where then?” ‘“‘Why, right here, of course; for, what more lovely spot, unless it be Lakelands, yon- | der,” ‘You will Jive here?’ gasped Mark Mor- timer. | The Skeleton Schooner. “Certainly, for is it not the home of my intended bride?” Mark Mortimer bit his teeth, for he had an idea that he would be left full monarch at The Kverglades, and was already building up Castles d’Espagna of the life of delight he intended to lead. “T thought you would go to Boston,” he faltered. } “ By no means, Mark, for this is the very place to live and love, | ‘ Behold yonder blue waters, and see how beautiful are they to sail over. ‘‘See yonder white beach, like a belt of silver dividing land and sea, and look at the dark emerald background of the picture, with here and there the lordly home of wealth and refinement. ‘Tf we want gay society we can sail to New Orleans. “Tf we wish a dreary existence, undisturbed by the busy whirl, we will have it here. “No, Mark, we will not leave the dear old plantation.” Every word which Frank Forrester had thus’ uttered cut the selfish, designing young man to | the heart. But what could he do? Seemingly enjoying the d'scomfiture of Mark Mortimer, the yachtsman continued: ‘‘'You have fared well, Mark, for you have spent your fortune, and the money I paid you gives you a large bonus above your debts, “Tf you get down in the world let me know, and I will place you in a way to make gold un- til you are sick of handling it, for that seems to be your God, Mortimer.” ‘‘T love gold only for what it will bring.” ‘‘My word for it, you will never purchase any happiness with it. ‘* But excuse me while I seek my fair lady- love, for I am eager to know when she will make me the happiest of men.” He arose and left the room, and, not finding Mabel in the parlor, sent a servant to ask her to join him on the lawn, She soon came down, looking exquisitely lovely, but with eyes that plainly showed they had been shedding tears. ‘‘ Mabel, if so I may address you,” he began, in his soft, winning way, taking her hand and leading her to a rustic seat that contained a view of the waters, ‘‘ your brother has told you of my offering, through him, to you of my heart, hand and fortune, and your auswer has made me a very happy man, for to be loved by you, Mabel, is happiness I scarcely dared reach in this world.” She waited until he had finished his well- turned sentence, and then said: ‘‘Understand me, Mr. Forrester, I said I would become your wife and trust to learning to love you, for I do not dislike you; but at present 1 do not love you. ‘“Now goand join Mark, please, and leave me alone, for I wish to think.,’’ He bowed in assent, but asked: “May I not set a day on which the ceremony is to be performed?” ‘Yes, sir, in six months from to-day.” “So long?’ “ Yes, for I will not be married until I am sixteen, and the day I set is my birthday anni- versary.” He bowed again and turned away, and she strolled down to the end of the lawn. She wore a dress of pure White, that became her style of beauty, and as itwas a robe for the house, she was about to return to the man sion to change it and then take a walk to ber father’s grave, when she sawa boat pulling close along shore. At first she did not recognize the occupant, but as be turned his face toward her she saw that it was one whom she had befriended some time before. “Ah! are you back again to see us?” she called out, in her childish way. The man sprung ashore, aud, glancing up at her, said, earnestly: ‘Yes, miss. You are Miss Mortimer, who treated me so kindly when I was last here, and sent those nice things to my poor mother?” “Yes, 1am the one, but I was a little girl then, for that_was several years ago. ‘‘ How is your mother?” “She is dead,” and as he spoke his lips quiv- ered and his eyes drooped. « You said your name was Jean, didn’t you?’ “ Yes, miss, Jean Jewett.” ‘And do you live in the same place down the coast?” | - — <-<-ceeesssesnat LL LLL LLL LLL . i | ——— ‘Yes, miss,” and the man seemed greatly embarrassed and kept his eyes roving ab: ut continualiy. “ You seem troubled?” she said, noticing his manner. ‘‘T am miss.” ‘Can [ aid you in any way?” He was silent, and she continued: ‘See, the sun is setting, and yonder clouds look as though we were going to have a blow, so you had better stop at The Everglades all night.” ‘‘Thank you, miss; but do you see yonder point of land?’ and he pointed to a projection of the beach a mile distant. “ Yes.” ** Well, miss, I left a dying comrade there while I came in search of a priest.” ‘There is no priest here, and none nearer than the village, which is miles away. ‘* But I will call for aid, and see what can be done for your friend.” “No, no, miss; he is dying from a wound he received, from a vessel, a pirate, I think, who fired at us while we were fi-hing. ‘*T sought to bring him bere but the motion of the boat caused bim great pain, and I left him there.” **T will call for aid at once.” *‘No, po, miss, only your sweet face will be like an angel to him in his dying hour, and it will be far better than a priest. ‘You are educated, lady, and you know what to say to a dying man, so come with me I beg of you.” ‘* Let me first call to some one to accompany me,” she said, deeply touched by the story of the man about his dying friend. “Ah no, lady, I beg of you not to delay, for my friend might die. **Come, I implore you, and I will bring you back ere very long.” He seemed so earnest, so anxious about his dying comrade, that Mabel Mortimer had rot the heart to refuse, and instantly she. descended the bank to the beach, and a moment after sat in the stern of the boat, which was pulled with swift, strong stroke over the waters, now under the shadow of twilight. CHAPTER XLVIL THE CRIME. ' Straicut tothe point the man rowed, and in ten minutes landed near where he said his dying friend was. It was now dark, and the heavens were be- coming overcast, and there was every indica- tion that there was a storm coming on. But having ventured thus far, Mabel would not retrace her way without seeing the dying man, and it was her intention to have his com- rade bear him to the boat, and carry him back home with her. As a child will often do, she had taken a fancy to the young sailor whom she had met several years before, and felt not the slightest dread of bim. In spite of her former sad experience, when she barely escaped being borne off, no thought of danger to herself entered her mind, ‘‘Come, we must hasten, and if your friend lives, we must take him with us, for the storm will break soon, and it would kill him to re- main unsheltered here,” she said hastily. He sprung ashore, and then turned to aid her. She grasped his hands, to spring out upon the sands, when she felt ber arm ina gripe of iron. Then, ere she could comprehend what was meant, a scarf was thrown around her face and drawn s0 tightly that to cry out was im- possible, and even had she done so, in that lonely spot, with the wash of-the rising; waves and sighing of the winds, she could not have been heard half the distance to The Everglades, With a strength and celerity that was re- markable the man bound poor Mabel, and lift- ing her in his arms bore ber back to the stern- — sheets. Here he placed her, and then bound her se- curely to the seat, and then took the scarf from around her face. She did not cry out and she had not fainted; _ but she said indignantly: ‘How dare you thus treat me.” He pushed the boat off the sands, secured his oars, and heading seaward in the very face of the coming storm, said earnestly: ‘‘T am sorry, ob so sorry, to thus ill use you, lady, but I must do s0.”’ ‘Why must you commit crime?” she asked, Eom ‘SEO! (S 00)