Beadle's Dime Library No. 260: The Masked Mystery; or, The Black Crescent — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

— ‘‘Um! pretty strong, high, unwholesome fever it is, too,” said Cauley, musingly. “Give me pen, ink and paper. No time to lose. Tuis must be checked. He’ll be in a serious condition if we don’t. Why don’t you jump? Retain your self-possession and assist me.” The required articles being furnished, a ser- vant was dispatched to the nearest drug-store ” \ with a prescription. a Doctor Cauley withdrew shortly after hav- ing given special instructions regarding the 2 care of Austin, and promising to call again at > nightfall. wt About four o’clock Wat Blake went out, and the woman in black seated herself, with , .a book, near Austin, occasionally bathing the i hot brow of her unsconscious charge. Marian Mead was happy. For a long time safter being left alone she continued to weep; ‘but her tears were the overflow of joy that “seemed immeasurable in its fullness, The dinner-hour came and passed, Lote in the afternoon sbe tapped gently upon the door | “of the room wherein lay Austin Burns, and ) vasked if she could not assist in any way. But | she was put off with a kiss by her mother, ‘who promised to return to her very shortly, “and narrate what the doctor’s sudden arrival ad interrupted, But the bours flew on. Doctor Cauley attended bis patient in the evening, and departed. Wat Blake was un- : saccountably detained, and the watcher could , not leave her post, It was nearly ten o’clock when Marian “sought her couch, and in the customary prayer her lips bad breathed to God each night since «early childhood, there went up more than was her wont, to thank Him for His manifold kindnesses and the restoration to her of a “mother, And ‘then sweet sleep; and dreams in rap- vturing accord with her buoyant spirits wafted «through the portals of repose. CHAPTER XII. *““ WHAT DOES IT MEAN?’ For one moment only Forde sat upright, ‘Statue-like, ghastly in his pallor, and then, “with a low, painful groan, sunk backward, Haxon sprung forward to sustain him, but ‘was waved back; and Forde cried: ‘Man, man! pity me! What do you ask?—- “what merciless fiend sent you upon this mis- -sion?’ and burying his face in bis hands, he wailed, ‘‘Qh, Heaven, be more lenient! Why should I suffer thus?” “Mr. Forde, really I do not understand—” ‘Not understand?’—fixing a piercing gaze upon the other, as if he would read his inmost -soul, ‘* Not uaderstand what you have asked ame? Then, why do you ask? Take back your ‘words—take them back, Isay! Say that you ‘do not mean what you speak, else you will ‘drive me to madness! My train whirls—it whirls—I am beset?’ Harnden Forde passed up and down ina way ‘that seemed unaccountable for one in bis weak- ened condition; and. Haxon, watching him in ‘partial amazement and wonder, was striving wainly to solve how. his simple words could ecreate such.an outburst. ‘‘ Mr. Forde, permit me—” ‘Harold Haxon, begone! Leave me alone. If you do not go, after this I may brave you with defiance, and commit—” ‘““Moderate your tone. I am not used to being ordered. My request—what will you do about it?’ ‘“* Do!” fairly screamed Forde, in his excited frenzy. ‘I cannot, will not, grant it! You are set upon me by some demon! Your words are one of & well-learned lesson! Some one bas put you up to this! I see it—I read it in your face! Who told you to ask of me what _you have?” . “ It matters nothing,” **But you shall not have it! Hear me: tuough I be blasted in life—death—eternity, you shall not have the crescent! ,Though you feed me, piecemval, in my wreck, to the ever- hungry jaws of gossip!—drag me, with relent- less hand and tongue, through the mires of shame!—do anything you will—your worst— yet you shall never touch the Black Crescent! My heart’s blood shall flow to keep it from you! My weak limbs shal) go down to the | earth, tuangled and broken, in the struggle to i keep 1( fyom you! Every muscle in my frame | _ ghall palsy before I release it to your grasp! It “ ny lie See i The Masked Mystery. Ne ee = is mine—mine! Have you beard? Ha! ha! ha!” **Sol” thought Haxon; “just as Gil Bret foresaw! And he said it was superstition. Forde will not part with it, I would give an arm to know why he is so worked up.” Forde’s excitement was of such intensity that Haxon feared it would terminate in de- lirium, He saw that his presence augmented the other’s state, and so concluded to withdraw. “Mr, Forde, lam going. But I will come again to-morrow. Remember what I have said Regarding Eola. Let there be no more of ber girlish pets. I sball not insist further upon the matter of the crescent; but ’—a new idea seemed to strike him—‘‘ please bave a check for five hundred dollars made out to my order when I call again.” Haxon drew on bis kid gloves, and with a parting bow, which Forde seemed scarcely to notice, left the house. There was a light footfall on the carpet bebind Forde, and a hand fell upon his sboul- der. . ‘‘ Father, Mr. Haxon has gone.” Eola stood beside him, ** Yes,” he returned, absently; ‘‘ he has gone —thank Heaven!” “Amen! Now, Jam here for an explana- tion.” ** Do not ask it now, my child; wait—” ** But I shall!” She spoke determinedly. There was some- thing in her mind which rendered her expres- sion even stern, as she faced her fatber with a searching, steady glance, ‘** Father,” said Eola, in a calm, stern voice, ‘‘what has transpired this afternoon, besides being an iusult to me, is wraps in such mys- tery that I bavea right to ask explanation, You forget what Ihave undergone. You do not realize the magnitude of my injury. The rights of woman, the bonds of delicacy, eti- quette, honor—all have been outraged by that miserable man, in bis unaccountable language! How dare he speak to you as he did?’ ‘Some other time, Eola, Wait a little while. I am too disturbed, unsettled, to an- swer your inquiries now.” ‘“No, it must be at once—here! I was in the hall during your conversation awhile ago, and though I am not an eavesdropper, I felt warranted in Jistening, after what bas passed, To say Iam amazed does not express my state of mind, Harold Haxon wields some terrible influence over you—” ‘Kola! Eola!—” “Ay, you are in his power! How? In what way? Speak; I must, I wi// kuow!” Her lovely face was aglow, ber biue eyes were unusually brilliant, and the lips compressed together firmly, when sbe concluded her fore- ible speech. ‘*Not now,” he said, striving to soothe her. ** More,” she continued, growing warmer in her resolution to untangle the web which con- fused her; ‘‘tell me what he meant by—the Black Crescent!” Harnden Forde started. “You see, I heard all, What was meant by bis allusion to the crescent? Look!—I have it upon my arm! You knw it is there!” Unbuttoning her jacket sleeve, she bared ber arm to the shoulder; and there, just above the elbow-joint, was a jac-simile, as close as India-ink could make it, of the crescent which Harnden Forde had looked upon in his library on the night previous, It was distinctly outlined; tiny spots in- dicated the diamonds in admirable imitation; and each small prong was surmounted by a minute crown to resemble the original device. ‘** Tell me,” she cried; ‘‘ what does this mean?’ CHAPTER XIII. WHO IS HE? Upon leaving Forde’s house, Harold Haxon took a down-town car, aud proceeded to **Guy’s,” where his last cent was paid over for a glass of ale, over which to ponder upon what he had passed through within the hour. The behavior of Forde gave him great un- easiness. “Td give an arm to know what’s up!” he mused. ‘Gil Bret is a deep one, and he must know why mention of the crescent should create such a rumpus. I sball demand a clear- ing up. Strange, how that man keeps me in continual darkness coneerning his secrets, IL distinguish between them. At a risk, he, | ; Sf ———E———— eS eee eee a a a Ss i ‘: | have been associated long enough with him to warrant his confidence. And he alone knows who I am—of my parents—yet will not tell me, Can it be that be kidnapped me when an infant? Hardly so; for I have always been allowed the utmost liberty of action; and he has never used harsh means to keep me neur him. He seems interested in me—very. To- night I will ask again. But then it will be useless; he won’t speak out, He always puts me off, I wonder if there can be any blood- tie between us?” : Finishing his glass of ale, be walked out into the street, his meditations again, as in the morning, having for their center the unex- ; plained disappearance of Austin Burns, ; 74 Bret had said nothing regarding the young. ih man, and Harold Haxon was so absorbed in * the bruiser’s instructions that he had forgotten his rival. Haxon was no sooner beyond the door, than a rather odd looking individual started from the back counter, advanced with long, cranky strides, and, reaching the pavement, gazed after him. Six feet would not compass his hight; a bean-pole, warped by exposure, conveys an admirable idea of his bodily appearance; his- skeleton head was surmounted by an old, worn silk hat; around bis throat, where an ‘‘ Adam’s apple” pointed prominently, was a dirty white satin kercbief; and underneath his arm he carried a white umbrella, rather worse than new, He stood with nose elevated, and pale-gray "ey eyes riveted, watching the retreating form > A of Haxon. are ‘‘That’s him!” he squeaked; “twotooneon — it. Can’t fcol me with tbat nose, those eyes 7 and them lips. No, sir-eel! Hum! Louise £ Ternor’s counterpart, for all the world, He’s ry certainly a rascal—runs in the family! Bad character, no doubt of it. Harold Haxon!— Harold Fiddlesticks! So. He’s gone. Now " then, All the way from Richmond by tele- graph! Where's Wat Blake?—that’s what ’m after, Um-m-m!” He was extremely ner- | vous, fidgeting about while speakivg, and when | be concluded, be darted off in the direction of | Hollicay street, Bells were tolling the hour of seven when Harold Haxon entered a car for Broadway, to fulfill his engagement with Gil Bret. a The afternoon bad been whiled away, partly \ ’ a 4 with strolling about, and half the time at Leache’s billiard-room, At the latter place be could be but a © looker-on—had to forego indulgence in bis a favorite amusement, owing to the fact that he us was * broke,” He had turned the matter of his moneyless state over and over in his brain, but, with all the fertile substance of that organ, bad failed - to conceive how he and Bret could keep afloat without resorting to desperate means, ike: since Forde was so obstinate about thecres- ‘ cent, eh ‘If that stubborn, high-spirited fairy, Eola, | can only be brought around at once,” bo thought, “Bret and I can manage, some way, to live for a few days. Once installed as Forde’s son-in-law, then we are ail right— plenty of money!” 2 heng VE ey As the car turned the corner at Broadway, __ and Haxon got out to continue up Baitimore street, a new idea fixed upon his mind, ng “By the Eternal!’ be exclaimed; “if Forde = won't give me the crescent, and Eola won't a? marry me, even to save her father—if the worst comes, then he shall supply me wit ‘a i money. He geball pay me a good, round | salary to keep his secret, and the check be ig to give me to-morrow shall be the initiatory of my drawings on bis purse. But I wanttbhe girl,” he concluded, slowly; “for she isa = jewel!” Nae , ' +? Arriving at the corner of the Park fence, he = 4 walked slowly down toward the gates, notex- pecting to meet Bret, as he was somewhat | earlier than the hour appointed. 1 ee He had taken but a few steps when be r stopped short and looked ahead, Veet, Two men were struggling in a flerce em- brace, and a deep curse was borne to his ears as they fell to the pavement, rolling over and over, sn At first he thought it merely a dranken — ae brawl, but the voice that framed the savage oath was familiar, and, with an exclamation of surprise, be sprung forward. ‘ge Papa ee The darkness was intense, He could not ‘ ’ ws 4q as oA 4 “Comicbooks.c