Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 302 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

— ———— ao“ wweegtsS-_- Faro Saul, the Handsome Hercules. ringing out clear and musical, yet cold and | ** You?” hoarsely cried the mine-owner, - bis merciless: ‘Frank Deckwright, at last fortune has given me the boon for which I have hungered these many long, weary years! When we last part- ed, it was you that stood proudly, scornfully by, while my knees were bent. Now the tables are turned, and you are about to meet the fate I swore should be yours if ever you fell into my power. You said then, that you would give me time to repent; I say now, take five minutes in which to say your prayers and make your peace with Heaven,” Not a word came from the lips of the doomed man. Not atremor shook bis frame or caused that steady gaze to waver from the face of the woman who thus coldly pronounced his doom, With jeweled watch in hand, Queen Titania counted off the minutes, and when the last second of grace had fled, she replaced the jewel, porenas the dagger from her bosom, placed one and ov the shoulder of the bound man—then struck straight at his heart with a fierce, biss- m. curse! he hot blood spurted out over her band, and casting the crimsoned dagger into the grave, she staggered back with a hoarse, gasping cry, averting her eyes, only saved from falling as she staggered against Faro Saul, whuse arms . closed around her instinctively, } A gurgling groan, and the head of the mur- de detective fell forward, while Faro Saul hurriedly said: ** Make sure he is dead, then bury him. Come, Queenie!” and supporting her, be left the sable apartment. CHAPTER XVIII. ANOTHER TURN OF THE SCREWS. WiTH almost indescribable bitterness those words fell from the lips of Marcus Tudor, and he seemed to be recovering from the shock which the manpoenennee in the flesh of the woman whom he bad so long believed in the grave, had given bim, There was more color in his face and his lips. ‘The wild, haunted look was fading from his eyes. His movements showed more strength and vitality. His voice was steadier. And Faro Saul frowned <r as he bit his thumb, for he began to fear that his bold game would not be so easily won, after all! The woman confronted tbe mine-owner as he uttered that sentence, and a low, bitter laugh parted her li ‘‘And I, Waldo St. John? Think you mine has been a bed of rose-leaves since the evil day on which your eyes first marked me out as your prize? If you think you have had cause to regret that day, J should never turn back to it in memory without shedding tears of blood! ‘*] was so young, so childish, foolish, perhaps. Ido not deny but that I had my failings: the best of mortals are not absolutely perfect. But if this was my last hour on earth—if the penalt for the slightest deviation from strict trut was death in its most loathsome and frightful shape—I would still swear that living man never bad a truer, more loving wife than I fully intended to be to you, from the first,” ‘* What a pity our good intentions are so short-lived!” This sneering comment never affected the pale-faced woman in the least, She confronted the mine-owner, her dark eyes gazing steadily into his, her voice steady, monotonous, more like that of a senseless automaton than aught of flesh and blood. ‘‘As Heaven is my judge, I loved you then, Waldo St. John—loved you as I hope few women are weak enough to love those into whose merciless bands they place their all! [ believed all the sweet perjuries you whispered into my ears while you were yet uncertain whether or no you would succeed in i he the bird you wished to place in your gilde cage. And when I took on me those solemn yows, it was with a holy, ceful joy words ¢an never describe. I loved and trusted you, I believed you felt the same toward me, and had an angel from heaven come down to show me what a frightful change a few short months was doomed to work, I should have laughed the prediction to scorn. Such was my faith in you. And how was it rewarded? “By the harshest suspicion. By bitter wrongs and still more bitter insult. By de- rading epithets and at last even by blows! yt Waldo St. John! Deny it if you can!” ith dark and lowering brow Marcus Tudor listened to her steady, measured speech, but when she concluded with that sharp defiance, he ‘spoke, also in quiet, measured tones: “The past is dead. Let it remain so. Believe me, it will be better for both you and I if the asbes are not disturbed.” That calm, even voice seemed to irritate the woman. Hercomposure vanished, and with her eyes flashing, her slender figure drawn proudly erect, her voice rung out sharply: ‘“ And I, Waldo St. John? Am I to bave no recompense for all that I have suffered through our abominable temper? Am [ to receive noth- ing in return for my ruined life? for the shame and obloquy and physical sufferings you heaped ‘upon me? | | face hotly flushed, the big veins starting out on his temples until it seemed as though the skin must burst. **‘ What was your suffering in com- parison to mine? Before 1 met you, | was happy, contented, rich, respected by all who knew me. You came, and all was changed. Everything that made life pleasant and good to live vanished. 1 became an outcast, an assassin in the eyes of those who had loved and honored me. And for what? A woman who betrayed me almost be- fore she had entered my house. ‘*But let that pass,” he added, suddenly re- gaining partial control of bis passions and moder- ating histone. ‘*‘ Tbe past is dead, and we are both fools to think of restoring it to life. You are still alive, instead of filling the grave I have for so many years believed. Be taankful for that.” ‘Tt is no thanks to and moldered to dust.’ woman. ‘‘No, Istruck to kill. I would dothe same again, were those black days to be lived over.” ‘* Ah! Waldo, bad you only been open and trank! Had youonly trusted mea little while longer!” murmured the woman, making a move- ment as though she would take bis band be- tween both of hers; but the mine-owner foiled the attemopt, swiftly shifting his hands behind his back. ‘*T trusted you too far at the start, and in that lay my one great fault,” he muttered, harshly. “You refuse my hand? Well, perhaps it is better so,” said the woman, her voice once more hard andeven, ‘‘ Afterall, sentiment would be out of place between you and I, at this lateday. And yet—you must listen to my defense.” ‘‘For which purpose, no doubt, you retain your bully-bodyguard,” sneered the mine-owner, with a glance toward Faro Saul, ‘‘Never mind me,” the giant gambler said, He Hr ‘‘I bave heard the story so often that it has no excitement for me. When the preliminaries are over, and you come down to pure business, then I may have a word or two to ny: ‘Though so many years bave passed since that day, you cannot forget, Waldo St. John, that [ told you there was a secret page in my history which must be, for a time, at least, kept sealed even from you. And you told me that you would patiently bide my own time for the revelation. Thus was the last scruple removed. and I wedded you. ‘** Now I will tell you what that secret was. I was not an only child, as you believed. I hada brother, nearly double my age when you wooed and won me. He was wild, reckless, but not utterly bad, else I should never have loved him so passionately as I did, had be been doubly my brother. ‘** He got into trouble, a year or more before I met you, and under an assumed name, be was convicted and sentenced to imprisonment for ten years. That was my secret; I had a con- vict brother whose name [| had never dared whisper to you! ‘If I was wrong in concealing this, my pun- ishment was heavy enough, Heaven knows! Time and again I tried to tell you what was troubling me, but as often was I foiled. Some- times you would playfully check me; at others, your cold and ome 6" air frightened me from the confession. If I was wrong, surely you were not entirely blameless! ‘* Well, the end came at last. My brother es- caper from his prison, and came to London to hide, until he could see me and procure means 7 which he might make his escape to another land. And it was at this time that your brutal jealousy made my life a very hell on earth! You were so fierce, so wild, so ugly in temper and action that I feared to tell you the truth, lest you denounce my poor brother to the authorities and give him up to suffer death —for be solemnly swore he would never return to prison alive! ‘‘ Then, you told me that lie about being called out of town on business. I was only too glad to believe it, for at last I had secured enough money—part of it to my shame, I admit having stolen from you!—to pay bis passage to America and so I sent him word tocome. He obeyed, In tears we were taking our last fond embrace. He was begging me to flee with him, to make a new home and lead a new life across the sea— when you burst in upon us, ‘You did not give either time to utter a word of explanation. You were a madman and left us both, as you believed, dead. And when I next returned to life, it was in an asylum for the insane, five years after that terrible night!” Her voice had been growing strained and husky, and now it failed her all at once. She shuddered violently, covering her eyes with ber hands as though iu the effort to shut out some terrible sight. Straight and erect, cold and stern, Marcus Tudor stood before her, uttering not a word. And in a few moments she seemed to conquer her emotions, uncovering her face and resum- ing her story, speaking swiftly, as though eager to get through: ‘It was a long time after that before I re- you that 1 am not dead bitterly retorted the 23 covered sufficient strength to hear the truth, but at last I wrested it from those who had charge of me. ‘““My brother was killed outright, never speaking a word after you stabbed him to the heart aud then almost severed his bead from his shoulders. He was buried in the Potters’ Field. They did not tell me then, but I after- ward learned that he bad been recognized as an escaped convict. At first it was thought be had attempted robbery, for money and jewels were found scattered beside us; that I had sur- prised bim, and in killing him, bad received my own terrible wounds; but the truth soon leaked out, when it was discovered you kad fled the country without settling up your business af- rs. ‘*] could tell them nothing coherent, for my brain was turned. They sent me to a hospital, where my burts were cured; from there to the insane asylum. ‘When I was released as cured, no one could tell me aught of your whereabouts. A verdict had been found of murder, and a reward placed on your head, dead or alive. That reward has never been claimed, nor removed.” ‘* And of course you at once set about trying to earn it!” sneered the mine-owner. “‘T Jost no time in trying to discover your hiding-place, be sure of that,” was the swift re- tort. ‘‘ You were outlawed, as the murderer of my brother, yet I yearned to see you once more. Well,” after a brief pause; ‘‘ you do not ask me why?” ‘*Thatis a query thct answers itself,” was thecold retort. ‘‘ It was not through love, for you never had heart enough to experience such a human passion. It was not revenge, for you knew you were the one who committed the greatest wrong, not me. Consequently it was money that urged you on,” ‘‘Reasoned like a second Solomon!” laughed the woman, unabasbed, ‘1 did want money— Ido want money, even more tban I yearn for revenge. The love I once felt for you has changed to bitterest hatred, and I could wit- ness your death with positive delight; but after all, that would make poor recompense for all I have endured through my connection with ou. ‘*T have found you after all these years, and I find you a rich man, well able to pay for the privilege of ending your ape in peace instead of at the end of a rope. et I will not be ex- tortionate in my demands. I only ask enough to oapport me in decency for the remnant of my life.’ Coolly, methodically, Marcus Tudor seemed to calculate, and then made known the results: ‘‘'You admitted to eighteen years, when we married; say you were thirty-five—for I do not wish to be too harsh, That was twenty years o—fifty-five years old. You are tough and wiry, but given to strong drink, to say nothing of other still more injurious dissipations. At a liberal estimate then, you can’t count on living more than fifteen years longer. Put it at that figure. What do you say?” “Ob, ’m waiting until you have reached a definite period!” ligbtly laughed the woman. “Suit yourself. Being a woman of quiet tastes, too old to enjoy a very extravagant life, too worn and ugly to have expensive lovers, of course it will not require a very large amount to pay your way down to the grave. Say $5,000 down, or an annuity for life of $500 per year. Take your choice,” A bard, mocking laugh burst from the woman as she flung out one hand with a contemptuous gesture, crying: ‘* Bah! a mere flea-bite! I see that I shall have to put on the twist, my gentle husband!” ** Don’t try for too much,or you may lose all!” ‘* I have counted all the chances, both for and against,” was the cool retort. ‘‘ You may blus- ter and kick, but when the pinch comes, you will knuckle down rather than face the gallows. $5,000 in a lump will close my mouth for a time, but bow about the child?” ‘What do you mean?’ slowly demanded Marcus Tudor, bis voice cold and steady enough but his face paling a little. “That while 1 was lying in the hospital, where your kind caresses sent me, I gave birth toachild. The fact was registered according to law, the child given in charge of a nurse, and care taken to keep a clear record concerning its career. That child was given to me when | re- covered my se at the end of five po and knowing that its identity might be of great im- rtance some day, I neglected no tions. bat child still lives, and I can trace it back to its birth, without a single flaw or weak spot in the record.” ** Your child, bly; but mine ?” with a bard laugh. ‘ That might not be so readily proven,” ‘* It was born in lawful wedlock; even to this day you have never passed through tbe formal- ity of a divorce, possibly because you believed me dead. You married again, 1 believe. At any rate, you have a girl living with you whom you call your daughter. I have watched you closely enough to know that you love her better than anges else, unless it may be your own sin- stained life. cComicbooks