Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 23 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

Ce wmete And the face of young Malerson glowed with a purer and holier light than we have ever seen upon it before, as he sat there, un- rebuked—one arm twined around her slender waist, the other hand elasped in her own, and his eyes looking fondly down in her upturned face. “O Stella, to hear you say that you will be my own—my fond and loving wife, is too much happiness. It seems as if I must bem a dream. Speak those blessed words again, dear, dear Stella!” “ Paul, 1am yours, now and forever!” she murmured. Paul bent down his lips to meet hers, but a hiss and a rustle, as if a serpent were near, caused both to start to their feet. “Surely there can be no serpents here~— one was never seen within the inclosure. I have heard father boast of it, though they are thick along the river and on the prairie!” said Stella. “Our ears may have been at fault—I surel thought I heard something!” said Paul. “ But all is still now—let us sit down again.” “No, dear Paul—theve is a strange chill in my heart—a fear as of some unseen and im- pending danger. My thoughts will turn back to the poor bird and the flower, which I saw yesterday |” said Stella, clinging to his arm, and trembling in spite of her efforts to be calm. “You are the hird, and J am the thorn of death!” wildly shrieked Ada MecAlpin, in a voice so natural, that Paul in horror recog- nized it, and was struck helpless as with a paralysis. And as she spoke, the disguised girl bound- ed from her concealment with a gleaming dag- ger in her hand, aiming her blow directly at the unprotected bosom of poor Stella. Stella closed her eyes, but at that instant, quick like a shadow, a form leaped between her and im- pending death—the steel deseended—descend- ed into the breast of Lagona the Comancue. In a moment Paul had recovered his self possession, and he seized the arm of Ada and wrested a revolver from her hand as she was about to use it, while he exclaimed : “Mad girl—what would you do !” “Break your heart, as you have mine—] have failedponee, beware of the next attempt!” she exclaimed, and she broke from his grasp and fled away. “ Lagona is slain--help him!” gasped Stella, pointing to the stream of blood which gushed from his noble breast, “No—the squaw hand would have killed the White Flower, but it was too weak to reach a warrior’s heart !’’ said Lagona, faintly, And then, in spite of his assumed strength, he stnk to the ground. Never did woman over a lover, or sister over a dying brother, bend more tearfully, anxiously, and tenderly than did Stella De- lorme over Lagona then, She tore an azure scarf from her own fair neck and with it sought, not vainly to stem the ebbing tide of life—to cheek the terrible flow from the ghastly wound. “Let me die, and go to the happy hunting- grounds while the smile of the White Flower is on my face, and my heart is warm under her touch!” said Lagona, faintly. But it was not so to be. Paul aided first in staunching the wound, and then hurried to the house and brought help to bear the brave, true-hearted warrior in. After this was done, and Paul had told how and by whom the wound was given. search was mude everywhere for the disguised “Lena” —Ada McAlpm. But the search was made in vain—not even a trace of her could be found. As soon as Stella was disengaged, Paul drew her aside; and, without concealing a single fact, revealed all that had ever oceurred between himself and Ada—told of a connection founded upon foolish passion, and not upon love, which he had gone to her and broken the moment that he felt an affection for herself. Stella listened to him quietly, until he had told all. When she said, seit “T wish you had told me this before, Paul.” “Why, would you have withheld the love from me which you have given?” he asked, and trembled for her answer. “ No, dear Paul—I should not—but there should be no concealment between those who love. Secrecy is the mother of Distrust, and distrust is the deadliest poison of love!” “Tn future, you shall have no occasion to diame me even for that,” said Paul. The Red Warrior. ; “T am convinced that such will be the case, dear Paul. “But to change the subjeet—do you think that Lagona’s wound is mortal ?” “* Dangerous, but not mortal, the piantation - surgeon aie ‘ee “Tam glad! This isthe third time that the noble fellow has risked his life to save mine. Don’t look uneasy, Paul—I yesterday pointed out the difference between gratitude and love —lam grateful, would reward him were it in my power, but not with my dove. That, Paul, |" is yours, and yours neg FR “ Bless you, Stella—bless you! It shall be the effort of a life-time in me to be worthy of you.” ‘where oh man “ There—a kiss, dear Paul, and I will’retire | 13 regard to property ; then join the band of which I am captain, which yet numbers full thirty good men and true—become my wife, and we will never rest until every wish of yours is e¢arried out.) What d'ye say, Miss Ada—I mean all I say, and will do more.” \ #7 will join your band—will lead them are follow; but I will be no man’s wife until my revenge is all aceomplish- ed. After that I will—think of it.” “Well, as thé ‘best? of the bargain is all on your own side, I must let all things go as you aa ” “Very well; let that be our understand- ‘mg. “Now’go-and see if there are any signs of pursuit—if not, we must away at once, for to rest, if I can sleep after such a fearful night | soow it’ will be daylight.” of events.” CHAPTER XXVIII. John Malerson stood by a small firej'which } he had lighted in a close thicket, not more. than two miles, if so far, from the plantation of Varian Delorme. Two splendid horses— one with a side-saddle upon it—stood tied close at hand. from his pocket, he looked at it, and muttered : “Tt is only twelvé ; two houts to wit yet! 1) wish I was closer, 80 that, if there was a fuss, ‘ I’m more than half inclined ; to go and leave the girl to get out of het own - If it wadn’t | I’ve been just fool enough to fall in love with the beauty myself. ° Whew! Time goes awful slow—I’ll see if I- I might hear it! scrapes. I’ve a full pocket now. for one thing, I would. can’t grease his wings a bit.” £ To do so, the old’ Villain ‘drew @ flask of | brandy from his~ pocket, and took a léngthy - draught therefrom. “Them are the drafts I’m’ always ‘capable of | honoring,” he muttered, as he replaced the~ flask in his pocket. “No oné'éan liquidate them with a better grace than old Jack. son, if he does say it himself.” nhs This sage conclusion delivered, the captain took a pipe from his pocket, filled and lighted it; then, sitting down with his back’ against the trunk of a tree, resigned himself to com- fort. 7 az For so long as the tobacco in his ipe lasted, he did not move, but watched the lazy’ clowda of smoke which curled and whirled up between him and the sky. But when the pipe gave’ out, he rose and again took out his flask’ to” € HAG Just ras | ed it to his lips, when he aeard’a rustling m‘|’ moisten the wings of Time. the bushes, and the next moment. Ada’MoAl in, almost breathless with the in y of her” eht made ight, staggered into the cirole by the fire. "+ Give me that—Lam fainting !” she gasped © m nis hand, and apply | s.atehing the flask ing it to own lips. | ~ She teot a draught of the fiery liquor, ‘7 whieh seemed * revive her, and then she hand-” ed the flask back to Malerson, whio re-linked™ the drink that her appearance had interrupted. After doing so, he sated ae “What news, my little lady—what news? Have you fixed the job for the lily-faced” |, daughter of Delorme ?” “aR “ No—accursed fortune, no! My blo ‘was well aimed for her heart, my arm fall of strength, but that Ind an, Lagona, who must, have watched and followed me so silently that I heard him not, threw himself before her, and” received the blow which would have killed her. I would have shot her, but Paul wrenched the’ pistol from my hand, and I was forced to fly.” “ Did you kill the Indian?” ~ ghia “T neither know nor care; he was not my me.” “T hope you did, ji st to avenge San ‘Spi- cer ! He was thie pat man I bat ; m vy Ai bower’ in everything. But what will fon de, now, Miss Ada ?” : “ First remove these stains from my face and | hair, resume my name and station, and go to” Galveston, where I will sell my servants, house,, lot, and jewels, to raise as much money as I ean; then come back, and under such ‘dis- guises as I can to best purpose assume, linger’ around, until I have completed that in whieh I failed to-night. She shall die! Even if she is a wife in his arms, with a babe at her’ bo- som, she shall die!” | “Miss Ada, if you'll listen to me, I'll put you in a way of doing the job, sure !” “Name your plan, and be quick, for we cust soon leave here.” . “ Do as you just said you would—that is, in | . He carried a rifle, atid a knife |" and pistols were in his belt. ‘Taking a’watch . aler- % ‘ CA ye ne ‘figure—the ‘beuu The old captain went to the edge of the thicket, and éarefully scanned the oiling ; but seeing no sign of danger, returned and so re- ported. ‘They thereupon mounted, and rode rapidly away toward the rendezvous where Malerson had been staying. bth /OHAPTER XXIX, Some weeks elapsed before Lagona, though nursed with every carey was able again to move out in the open'air. . The blow. of the “ squaw- hand’ had beem heavy, and had very nearly deprived him /of life. Had» it reached the white"bosom ‘of Stella—for which it was in- ‘tended—her days had been by il ended. But at last he got so that he could mount. his fa- vorite white horse, and ride out wpon the in- ‘vigorating prairie.: And then his strength rapidly came back—the blood began to thick- ‘én in his veins, and he to feel himself a man ‘ohee more. ‘One day, he had ridden alone some miles from’La Boka de Flores, and was slowly pass- ing a thick grove, when a person, mounted upon a splendid blooded horse, dashed out be- fore him, and signified a desire for.some con- versation. The individual who sat astride of this hig'-mettled»charger was fully armed, with the effective fe and revolving pistols of Dolonel Oclt—the most ey reliable veapon ‘in the #er'a—n costume dreseed in ‘the handsome, half-huriting, ha'f-military garb of the Rangers. But the ssight. elegaiitly-pro- ibiful complexion, he hair now free atid tossing in a wavy masa down about the néck and shoulders, proclaimed sy rider to be a woman, ‘and a very beautiful ' “ Have we’ met ‘before, Lagona, Chief of the Comanches ?” asked’ the stranger. ~The Indian regarded her with a calm, close “scrutiny for a few moments, and then said : © We' have! “Lagona never forgets an eye that he has looked upon.” | “Where?” continued the other. ‘“ There,” said ‘the Indian, pointing toward ‘La Bolsa dé Flores!* “Why does tie squaw “put on the dress of @ warrior?” “For the purpose of revenge. Can I not ‘strike like a warrior?” replied Ada McA!p n, for she it was. No,” saia Lagona; baring his breast and shiowing the scar of his wound not yet entirely healed, “You struck Lagona, and yet he lives |” ' “ But T did ‘nét ‘strike'at you—you threw yourself in my way.” Yes, 'to'bave the White Flower,” said La. gona. ‘ Why did you seek her life ?” “# Beeatise blie had robbed me of my lover Paul Malergon was mine; he had sworn by the Great Spirit'to have nd otlier bride. He was false—she made him’so, and I sous ht to pun- ‘ish her.” * ae ete ee While Ada spoke, her éyes flashed, her col- or heightened, and her wholé figure seemed to ‘enlarze with excitement. ‘There was a look of ‘admiration in L: goni's éye,.As he said ; _ You have ‘the’ héart of a warrior in che body of a’squaw. Lagona will be your friend ; but you must not hurt the White Flower If you do, you’ strike again through Lagona’s reast.” “] will do her'no harm; T had a dream,’ said Ada. “Ttis good. . Dreams come from the Great Spirit said the young chief. “Hx sends Is messengers to us when we sleep, and have * The superstition of Indians in regard to dreams is ver kable. The dream cf a leading chief or emar ‘prophet will influence the action of a whole nation. e among them who does not heed a dream is regard: ed as being worse than a disbeliever in the Great Spi rit, and worse with them (Aea/Aen, as they are termed’ (0) (E(oyAniicel evoXe) <S,(e