Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 292 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

| Moke Horner, the Boss Roustabout. 5 -~ oo “They could hardly be purchased for such a oe Miss Ward, since they were exclusively of you.” “Of me? Surely, then, I have a right to share them at least,” she quickly replied, with another oF sieve upward, Marcus Dingeon caught his breath like one who is choking, as he intercepted that swift lance. He knew that the passionate love which filled his heart and permeated his entire being, must ‘be plainly visible in his glowing eyes, Yet she—the one woman in all the wide world to him—gave no sign of fear or aversion! She kept her seat, toying with her jeweled fan. Surely she must know—surely if the avowal an one which she dreaded, she would not act us! Until that moment Marcus Dingeon had never really dared to hope for perfect success. Time and again had he struggled to crush down the mad love that had taken possession of his entire soul, telling himself harshly that he was worse than mad to even dream of such raptur- ous bliss—that Drusilla Ward could only look upon him, poor, nameless, with scorn—that a proposal of marriage from him would be re- garded by her asan insult. And even when he ‘was assured of the good wishes of the parents of his idol, still he doubted—still he feared to put his fate to the test. But now— ‘Miss Ward—Drusilla—may I—dare I reveal my thoughts to you?” he whispered, bending over her chair until his warm breath stirred her flossy hair and brought tho warm color to ber fair neck, The golden head bent lower, the fan fluttered more nervously. There came no answer in words, but surely it was encouragement suffi- cient that the beauty retained her seat, making no effort to check his confession or escape its recital? ‘“*T will—it must come some time, and as well now. If my insane hopes have deceived me, and the worst is to befall, the blow will be no heavier now than a year from hence,” he whis- pered, hastily, in tones that told how intense were his emotions, ‘**Am I so hard hearted, so much to be feared, then?” softly uttered Drusilla, venturing an- other glance, but only to as quickly vail her eyes from that burning gaze, ‘It is not that, but my own presumption that troubles me most of all. When I think of what you are—so lovely, so rich, so praised and courted by all, an angel among common hu- manity—then look at my own position: poor, nameless, without friends or influence—” * Never without a true friend, as long as my woniay lives, Marcus!” came the softly-breathed words, “Thank you, Drusilla,” and with a gentle band, the young lawyer raised a floating curl of the perfumed hair to his lips, touching it as reverently as might a religious devotee the gar- ment whichen shrouds the adored figure of his patron saint. ‘ Your father has been very kind. He has shown me many favors, but the greatest of all was when he granted me per- mission to speak to you, bis precious daughter -—to tell you of the wild hopes which I have dared to cherish, and to add to them his bearty approval, if they meet with favor iu your eyes. Still lower bent the fair head, and what little Marcus Dingeon could see of her face, was richly suffused. She made no effort to remove. She sat in silence, waiting, listening, And yet, ‘60 great was his adoration, so humble his opin- ion of his own merits, the poor fellow still ‘doubted the reception which would be given bis patrgt on " ‘I was thinking what a vast gulf divides you and I, Drusilla,” he said, catching his breath quickly, his low voice trembling with emotion as he skirted te he lon yet dared not touch. ‘* You, rich, beautiful, worshiped, well- born and aristocratie—I, poor, without name or fame, wealth or worth. In only one respect dare I believe myself at all your equal: in the power of loving through life to death! “Drusilla, you have known me as Marcus Dingeon, son of Roderic Dingeon, the judge, whose name is the synonym for probity, phil- anthropy and benevolence, and shining all the more brightly now that death has claimed bim for its own. The whole world could bestow on me but one greater boon than the right to wear his name, morally as well as legally; but that is not, never can be mine!” ‘“Marcus—Mr. Dingeon?” exclaimed the mai- ‘den, glancing up into his pale face with won- der in her eyes. “I do not comprehend—you ‘are his son—” ‘*By adoption, no more,” was the swift, al- mest harsh interjection. ‘I know not whose lawfulsonI am. The judge in his boundless | charity, picked me up ouf of the gutter, when I was little more than an infant. I was dirty and ragged. One-half my vocabulary, limited enough at that age, thank Heaven! consisted of oaths, the other moity of sane From this hes can dimly picture what must have been my irth. It is the only clew left, though the judge sought long and persistently, leaving no stone unturned in his endeavors to solve the mystery as well that he failed, At least I have known | I have been, this past year? I, who loved you what perfect happiness means, in his affection and gentle teachings!” ‘*It is so strange—I did not know—” ‘* Else you would have been more chary of your favors—pardon me, Miss Ward,” he said quickly, flushing before the reproachful glance which she gave him at those bitter words, ‘I bardly knew what I was saying—and yet, you, of all women, should be able to make allowance for me when I think of what might have been, had I been blessed with honest parents.” ‘‘ As you may have been—as you were,” earn- estly uttered the maiden, her warm hand touching his for an instant. ‘‘The child of criminals could never have grown up to become a true and noble man, without stain or re- proach, even under the care and tuition of a gentleman like Judge Dingeon!” ** Drusilla!” he muttered, clasping the little hand and holding it firmly, almost fiercely; ‘‘do you know what you aresaying? Do you know that you are reviving hopes which I be- lieved were dead and ash-covered?”’ Her little hand trembled, ber face flushed, aled, then grew bright and rosy again beneath nis passionate gaze. There was a brief struggle, then her glowing eyes met his, fully, frankly, yet without the slightest trace of unmaidenii- ness, And low spoken though her words were, they came clearly: *[ know not what your parents were. I only know what you have become; a gentleman of whose friendship the highest lady in all the land might well be proud,” Steadily their eyes met, reading in each other the blissfull truth, And then, gently, reverent- ly, his head was bowed until his lips brushed her fair brow. A wave of crimson followed that light touch, but the frank eyes did not droop again, Yet Marcus Dingeon drew back, standing erect, holding bis mad passion sternly in check while he spoke; “There must be vo further chance for mis- understanding between us, Drusilla. I will speak plainly and without reserve, now that the ice bas been broken. Your friendship is ere dear to me, as it should be to any mortal; but 1 must have even more than that—it must be all or nothing! ‘1 have dared to love you for more years than I can remember now—I feel as though I had always loved you! And that not with the poor, lukewarm sentiment which commonly passes for love, but au adoration that is heart, soul, life, all in all tome! Without you, I be- lieve I would die. With you—ob, God! I would be in paradise!” His voice feed hoarse, then choked. He caught at his throat with one sinewy hand, then tossed back his jetty locks with a swift, passion- ate gesture. A etter life and paradise, than death, Mar- cus So softly, gently, came the words from those red lips that no ear less keen than that of a lover could bave rightly interpreted them, That ear was Marcus’s, and with an almost glorified light upon bis strong face he turned toward her, reading the blissful truth in her lustrous eyes, Then her lithe figure was infolded in his strong arms, and their warm lips met in the first passionate kiss of holy love. Time and place were equally forgotten. They were both young, both full of life and love; they loved and were beloved—what more could they ask of this world? With a low, startled cry, Drusilla slipped from that ardent embrace, her face paling as she cast a swift, frightened glance around them. A sound that resembled a fierce, grating curse had come to her ears, even above the mellow notes of the band in the ball-room beyond, and she gasped: ‘‘ We are seen—spied upon!” With a swift, noiseless step, Marcus Dingeon passed through the conservatory, without dis- covering other occupants than themselves, and then hastened back to reassure the maiden. ‘“You were deceived, darling, for we are here alone. Even if you were not, what mat- ter? To-morrow, all the world may know our bliss, for, darling, now | have won you, surely you will not make me do long penance before med my treasure?” Despite her recent fears, Drusilla could not entirely restrain a low, gentle laugh. This eager assurance was so strongly in contrast to bis re- cent doubts and fears, Marcus also saw the point, and joined in the laugh. He was far too happy to feel anything but joyous now, though the time had been when his proud, reserved nature would have taken offense at even this slight touch of ridi- cule. ‘‘ Am I too presuming, darling?” he whispered, ently toying with her golden locks. *‘ You fonget how long I have worshiped you in secret, You bade me live, for you and para- dise; then why think of keeping me longer in purgatory ?”’ ** And I—ob, Marcus!” hiding her burning face in bis breast, as the wor ale from her lips with a passion sbe made no other effort with all my heart and soul! I, whom you scarcely ever came near, and when you did, to be as cold and distant as though we were worse than nothing to|each other! Time and time again have I fought with myself in secret to crush out the love which I felt was unrequited! You were cruel—very bard and cruel!” ‘Because I knew how unworthy I was of such a treasure,” he gently whispered, pressin her trembling form still closer to himself. knew that a black stain rested over my past life, though through no deed of mine. I knew how proud you were—how proud were your parents of their only child, and I feared to be accused of hunting a fortune, rather than a love. Doyou wonder, darling, that 1 hesitated —that I too tried to kill my burning love, rather than meet with a scornful rejection? But it was allin vain. I could not conquer it, and at last, in utter desperation, I visited your father. I told him all. I told him how the xood judge found me, a degraded little wretch. How he took me out of the gutter and by his kindliness, bis generosity, his nobleness, made me whatI now am. I told him all this, before speaking one word of my love for you, because I would not have bim say when too late, that I had deceived him in one particular. And then —may Heaven shower its choicest blessings on bim!—he told me that I might speak to you thi night!” Drusilla lifted her head for just a moment, glancing into his face with a little roguish smile as she breathed: . ‘* And J, Marcus, was not wholly idle while you were working for love. It was my cun- ning persuasions in part that won his consent. I loved you so dearly—I felt that the time must come when that love would be requited—and in hopes of such a consummation, 1 pleaded with my father and my mother, and at last they only required a word from you to” er speech was abruptly cut short by a very natural proceeding on the part of the enrap- tured lover; but with that we have naught to do, Suddenly Drusilla glided from the embrace of her lover, and when a prim, starched ser- vant made his appearance in the conservatory, the young couple were busily engaged in a very interesting botanical discussion; so much so that the dignified flunky was kept standin awaiting the pleasure of his mistress for ful five minutes before she turned with: ‘* Weil, James, what is wanted?” “If you please, mum, it’s Mr, Dingeon,” bowed the servant. ‘The master says will he please step into the iib’ry for a few minutes, as he wishes to see him on very important busi- ness, mum.” => ‘* Very well. Tell bim that Mr. Dingeon will be with him directly,” replied Drusilla, The servant bowed lowly, then took his depar- ure, ‘¢ Dear father is impatient to learn the nature of your success,” laughed Drusilla, with a soft blush. ‘‘ We will go to bim together, if you wish, Iam too happy to remain alone!” CHAPTER IV. A SKELETON AT THE FEAST, “T po not know you. You gained admission here by sending me a false message. As I do not care about having a scene here, on this night of all nights, will you oblige me by taking your leave at once—and quietly?” The speaker was Horace Ward, his voice ring- ing with cold distinctness as he atood pointing to the partially open door of the handsomely- furnished library. Tall, portly, ype. in carriage at all times the usually kind and pleasant countenance of the millionaire merchant was bard and stern just now. The fingers of his white om de hand © quivered and partially closed as though longing to fasten upon the degraded-looking wretch who had awukened such an unusual degree of anger in bis breast. Before him, slouching, slovenly from head to foot, stood one who seemed the very embodi- ment of vile wretchedness, Not alone that his clothes were ragged and filthy with dirt and grease, smelling of foul tobacco and worse liquor, for poverty alone never awoke resent- ment in the bosom of Horace Ware; but the looks, the very air which this man breathed seemed to proclaim his evil nature. And yet, those keen eyes which peered upward at the face of the merchant from beneath the visorless brim of the greasy, mangy-looking catskin oe —the voice that made reply—the shaking hea and quivering limbs—all belonged to Captain Joseph Baldwin, alias ew Joe! It was only a few hours later than when we beheld him in conference with Teddy Huke and Purty Paddy at the Tricolor, but during that length of time, Shaky Joe had turned from a fash sport into a regular hang-dog. His mock jewels were gone, his decently whole garments turned to a mass of foul-smelling rags, his clean face to a mask of grime which, combined with his slouching, shambling gait and complete al- - teration of voice, so thoroughly disguised him Seer te ae * ek at * . - . ~ a. aoe “5 a - i which surrounded my origin. Perhaps it was to conceal. ‘How much happier do you think ' that his closest associates would uever have Aue et ¥ Faw be ; : : ee ‘comicbook ‘ ¢ a yaad: : . . be 4 « ont mj ae . J wo i - ty f 7 ad et ee ed ake Te er iad eae ied) A Ak AL eee ee ae i x Pale a a. Ma ae wevrtn & ud a > wf f at ~