Beadle's Dime Library No. 260: The Masked Mystery; or, The Black Crescent — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

»>————_— —$~“yg eh ane mds -—_———_—————_—— work the miv?’s flell of harrenness nzd woe, | of anxiety, He appeared to set great value until bright flowers sbould color the new-made | on if, and presently expressed satisfaction at soil with bues cf joy. finding it uninjured. All this be taougbt upon; and his form ‘*T know sister will be glad to see you, Mr. straightened, the weary eyes kindled to bright- | Crewly.” ness, he smiled as he had not smiled for days. ** Chris Crewly, without the prefix. Ahem, ‘* Be it sol” he said at last. ‘“‘ We will fly! | yes, no doubt of it. Are you going to put in Then, if the worst comes, Eola, you will stand | your lick right away?’ by me?—you will not desert me in the clouds ** Yes, we shall strike now.” that are sure to come?’ ‘* Been to see Forde yet?” ‘Pll never desert you!” she replied, fervent- ‘*'Yes, and asked him for both the certificate ly “Your sorrows shall be mine!—your | and the crescent.” trials shall be my battles|—and if ever the “So. Well?” mists of woe are dispelled, and happiness is re- ‘“‘He was willing to give me the certifi- stored, then I will share that too; for Iam | cate—” your child, and nothing—nothing can separate ‘And you took it?’ us!” ce No—” “Noble girl!” he cried, kissing again and ** Jackass!” interrupted Crewly in a tone of again, the lips that molded those words, | disgust. “God give me strength, now! I will arouse! | *“*] wanted the crescent, too; and would not I will defy Harold Haxon, and his power! It | take one without the other—” is fixed—we will fly!” | ‘Ninny! why didn’t you grab at the chance? ‘Tam so glad to hear you speak like that! | Um! ‘You are yourself again, Now shall we ride out? You need fresh air.’ ‘* Yes, anything.” Ain’t like me—take what you get, keep what you’ve got and get more. See? Car- 'dinal points of life, nowadays, my dear sir, | Bad management—very bad, Tell him J was She bounded away with a light heart. | alive!” Forde ascended to his library, where he ‘Sister wrote him a note in which she told found faithful James still at his watch. him that.” I will remain ‘* He wilted?” ‘* He is in a terrible state of mental excite- ment, But you shall hear all pretty soon.” “That’s what I want. Fuil particulars. ‘* James, order my carriage. here until you return.” ‘Yes, sir.” Forde’s manner struck the serving-man, as considerably altered since morning. I’m getting rusty.” When the open carriage was driven round, “Would you believe it, he attempted my Eola was ready, and she and ber father were | life, only last-—” soon being borne, at leisure speed, toward ‘Vagabond! yes. Of course I believe. Druid Hill Park. |Gave me a quart of laudanum once, more or The beauty of the day, and Eola’s constant, | less. Overdose, rather. Chris Crewly wasn’t merry chat, wrought great changes in Forde. | born to die of laudanum, Glad I didn’t break Involuntarily, be found himself joining in her | my umbrella!” lively humor, and the fair girl applied herself They reached Broadway and entered a car. assiduously to her task. During their ride they had much to talk At half-past seven o’clock that evening, they | about; but their conversation is not essential were again seated in the carriage and being | at this point. Blake was greatly pleased with driven to the Camden station, where they in- | the meeting, which is not surprising, when we tended taking the 8:30 train for Washington! | consider that Christopher Crewly was— But And why to Washington? There the admir- | wait, able girl bad hit upon a plan to divert her | Tho odd personage squirmed from his seat, father. with a nod, when Blake intimated that they The carnival!—that would call his attention ' must leave the car, for one of the Blue Line; from his troubles. And so they numbered two, | and when seated again, he seemed to coil him- among the thousands, who were journeying | self round himself, folding, turning, wrapping toward the National Capital, to witness the | his legs, one with the other; and setting his great fete-champetre. elbows against his hips, and raising the handls There were only two small trunks accom- | of the umbrella to bis puckered lips, he riveted panying them; the rest of the baggage had | his expressionless eyes upon the roof of the car, been shipped to Philadelphia, in the afternoon, | in an abstracted gaze. by the reliable James. Arriving at the boarding-house of Mrs, Len- James also, had a tiny perfumed note in his | ner, they ascended to Austin Burns’s room. keeping, directed to Austin Burns, The woman in black was keeping unrelaxed In due time the cars were steaming away | vigil; and upon their entrance she started up, from Baltimore, and, with their departure, | exclaiming immediately: Forde vented a long-drawn sigh of relief. “Christopher Crewly !—you here?” Harold Haxon’s prey was slipping away from ‘Ahem! Yours forever— Hang it!” in him, bowing he dropped his hat, and stooping to pick it up, bis umbrella tangled itself between his legs, tripping him most beautifully. With a gutta-percba-like contraction of arms and limbs, he gathered himself up. ‘“‘ Hang it! no, that is—didn’t I say I was | glad to see you? Excuse me. My umbrella, you see. Couldn’t help falling.” It seemed impossible for him tosmile; but he made up in cordiality, by dropping both hat and umbrella, as he warmly shook the white hands that were extended to him. The articles were picked up at once, how- ever, and deposited ona side table—the um- CHAPTER XV. CHRISTOPHER CREWLY ON THE CARPET. War Buake and the eccentric individual | with the umbrella, were old acquaintances, as was plainly indicated in the hearty shake of hands which followed the latter’s salutation. ‘* How long have you been in town, Crewly?”’ asked Blake, as they continued down Pratt street at a rapid pace, ‘This morning. All the way from Rich- mond by telegraph. Got your sister’s letter a week ago— guess the rascals feel sore!” with a jerk of the head and a contraction of counte- nance, ‘* And you were looking for me?” ‘*Some. Been all round town, looking at monuments and gutters. Saw that villain, Hexon, at ‘Guy’s’ this afternoon.” ** How did you bappen so opportunely on the scene, just now?” ** Made up my mind to walk from one end to the other, of every street in the city. And if I didn’t find you then—um! Id have adver- tised. Just finished up Balfimore street, and was hunting for a night’s lodging. Your sister said, come with a jump—so jump I did, brought no baggage but a carpet-bag, and some scamp stole that at the depot; had this shirt on four days, etc., etc.” ‘“*“Were there no directions in my sister’s letter?” ““Yes, a large one—Baltimore! Um! fear T’ve broken my umbrella over the dog.” And he examined the article in question with an air their owner seated himself, with a bump that jarred the room, and gravely surveyed the apartment. “I wrote you a letter, Mr, Crewly—” “Chris Crewly. Yours forever—much, Yes, I got it.” ** And that brought you—” “On a goose-chase,” he interrupted again. ‘Ahem! See, you didn’t say, exactly, where I'd find you; and there was nothing to guide me but the heading of the letter. But you said ‘come quick’—and I come quick!’ ’Twouldn’t do to make a fuss about directions, you know, Ahem! Been well?” “Quite well—what is it, brother?” Wat Blake was near the lamp, busily en- gaged with overhauling the contents of the pocket-book he had secured. Her inquiry was called forth by an exclama- tion, as he held up to the light a paper so creased as to be torn, and crumpled and soiled with bad usage. ————— SO ystery. — brella across the crown of the hat—after which » * —_——— ——— 2 lik have it!” he cried. ‘See; this must be it.” She arose quickly to examine the paper; and Crewly, with an eye to information, also left his seat to look at it. It was a check on the National Bank, for five thousand dollars, in Louise Ternor’s name, and bore date of December 20tb, 1863, “Um! A forgery, I see,” mused Crewly, aloud. ‘ That sig. isn’t natura), ‘ Where’d you get it?” “Can it be, Wat,” said the woman in black, “that he has forged this check?’ **Tt would seem so. You remember the paper alluded to in Louise Ternor’s letter? And this, then, is the secret of Haxon’s power over Forde. No wonder he was willing to persuade his daughter to marry the villain; for he clings to his reputation as an honorable man, next his life. How fortunate, sister, that you got wind of Haxon’s intended move- ments!” “Yes, it was!” declared Crewly, though he really had no idea what they were driving at. **Tf this is the secret, then Austin shall soon be restored to favor. The power of the vil- lains is broken. What more is there in the pocket-book?” * Something over forty dollars.” “ Ah! then we have taken their last cent trom them!” “Tsay,” edged in Crewly, stroking his chin | and looking attentively at the paper and the woman in black; ‘‘excuse me—but, now, ahem! what's it all about, eb?” / Besides being a.friend, Crewly was, also, in their confidence; for, in half an hour, he was fully acquainted with the plans of Bret and Haxon, their exactions from Forde, their at- tempt upon the life of Austin Burns, and many other particulars. ‘““Um! Well, now! they are villains. So, Louise Ternor’s dead, eh? Glad of it. And this Austin Burns—unfortunate vagabond— where’s he?” ‘*There,” poiuting to the bed. “Eh? How?’ He wheeled round, and as bis gaze rested on Austin’s pale face, he added, in a louder key: ‘‘ You don’t say so!” “Sh!” admonished Blake; ‘he sleeps now, Do not disturb bim,” “They poked him with a knife, eh?’ con- tinued Crewly, advancing to the bedside and contemplating Austin witha gaze of peculiar gravity. Poor fellow! Wonder how it feels— a knife sticking into one’s ribs! no—you said in the shoulder. Um! Well! well! well!” | Blake exchanged a few words with his sister, while Crewly was thus engaged, and she pres- ently turned to him, saying: “T’ve found my child, Mr. Crewly.” Again his lank limbs served him as a pivot, for he faced her with astonishing suddenness, and exclaimed: ‘Round her!” 4 ce Yes,” ‘Certain it’s Ora?” “cc Yes,” ‘¢ Where is she?” ‘*Tn the next room.” **Don’t say! Ahem! tips Ss Now then, how’d you find her ? : “It’s a long story, and the hour is late,” said Blake, who had been advised during the afternoon of Mariar’s presence in the house, “Sister will tell you, some other time. She must be tired now, having had no s‘eep for over thirty hours,” ‘Yes, Wat, Iam tired. Had you not better call Mrs. Lenner?’ The old lady was summoned. Her first words were inquiries after the condition of Austin Burns, : ‘‘Well now, there!” she exclaimed, when informed that another room was wanted; “what on vyearth ‘ll I do? Rooms is scarce—” be? ‘*Not a particle of difference, madam,” in- serted Crewly, with a spasmodic breath: ‘just show me a stray wash-boiler and [ll — curl] up in that—abem!” “Oh! I know,” added she; “if that dar ae little angel of a critter’s a-goin’ to sleep with you, Mrs, Wernich; why, then, Mr.—Mr.— what’s your name?” “Chris Crewly,” he prompted with dignity: be. “Chris Crewly, LL.D. All the way fro1 Richmond by telegraph. Lost my carpet-bag. Yours for-. ever.” | ee dhe “‘Law’s sakes! Did I ever! Why, you do Left my pocketbook on the piano. Eboo im ~€0 x — \: - a Vaal a , . ,