Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 363 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

- 14 ** But then, if she deprived herself of her coat, | of the anger the miserable wretch experienced how could she possibly get along without it? ‘She halted by the draw of the bridge, and gazing down at the swiftly-flowing waters, meditated upon this perplexing problem. ‘*Do not think for a moment that she had any idea of committing suicide, for it was not so; she was too much in love with life to ever dream of sacrificing it. “The night was clear, and the moon riding at her fullin the sky made everything almost as light as by day. ‘** As she gazed upon the dark waters, wonder- ing how she could possibly obtain money to sus- tain life, the sound of distant footfalls fell upon her ears. **Some one—a man evidently by the sound— was coming over the bridge from Cambridge. ‘** An idea instantly flashed into her brain, She had used her womanly arts to entrap pigeons into the net so cunningly spread by her husband so they might be plucked, why not employ them now when it was a question almost of life and death? **No sooner did the idea occur to her than she was prompt to execute it. ** She clambered over the railing and descended to the pier, which just jutted out into the water, and upon which the draw-bridge worked. ** Tt was her idea that the gentleman who was approaching would be attracted by the action so that he would stop to ascertain what she meant to do. “The ruse succeeded, the gentleman’s attention was attracted—he followed her onto the pier and arrived just in time, as he thought, to prevent her from throwing herself into the river. ** That gentleman was yourself, and you know what followed. ‘* She fascinated you—you protected her, and finally she became your wife, deceiving you with a false story of her early life. **She was tired of the life she had led, and fancied that in a more quiet existence she could find peace and rest. ‘* But she was deceived; the quiet, humdrum life was as irksome to her as the prison-bars of the care to the confined bird. nd then, too she did not love you in the least; she respected you, for she could not help doing that; she ought to have been grateful to you for you were very good to her, but in her nature there was no suc thing as gratitude. She did not know the mean- ing of the word as far as she, personally, was concerned, ‘* But, possibly, she would have forced her- self to be contented with her lot had not this miserable old wretch, who calls himself Old Lead Pencil, happened to discover her, ‘*He was one of the residents of the Kansas village where her father had met so terrible a fate; he had discovered all the particulars in re- gard to her marriage with you, and threatened unless a certain yearly sum was paid to him as hush-money, to go to your relatives and tell the shameful story. ‘* This was the last straw that broke the cam- el’s back. ‘* Life with you was distasteful to her, for the only man she ever loved was in his grave, and it was agony to her to be obliged to submit to your caresses; but to endure them, and be at the same time a slave to this wretched old man, obliged to purchase his silence, was too much for her to bear. ** And so she fled, ‘*She came West and hunted me up. I wasin Chicago at the time. ‘* Judge Jones had made my acquaintance, we were engazed to be married, and were there pre- paring for the ceremony. ‘** Roxanna told me her story frankly, not at- tempting to defend her conduct in the least, and T have as frankly told it to you. **T explained as much of the matter as was necessary to the judge, and asked his advice. ‘He counseled that Roxanna should procure a divorce, for, as she was determined not to live with you, if would be as well to have the tio loosened as soon as possible. ‘¢ Under the lax laws of Dlinois, such matters are easily arranged. We all thought that it was best the divorce should be obtained without your knowledge, so that you could not contest it ‘“The divorce was granted, and ten hours afterward, Roxanna Merivale was a dead wo- man. Heart disease, the doctor said. ‘* My first idea was to write to you about the matter, but then on second thoughts, I concluded not to. Roxanna was dead, and why should I mix myself up in the affair, since there was no good end to be served. ‘This miserable wretch, this Old Lead Pencil, attempted to blackmail me, but he soon discov- cred thasI am made of sterner stuff than my unfortunate sister, and then too, Iam differently situated,” and the proud lip of the lady curled in contempt as she spoke. ‘“‘T have no secrets from my husband, the judze, and never have had from the first. He i-new all about my unfortunate father before he married me, and consequently, when he threat- ened to go to my husband and reveal to him the Creadful secret which clouded all of my young i129, Isimoply laughed at him, and you can judge come te : - — ST lasses ree ee ee ee me ee et ct when I told him he could not tell my husband Se about me, that he did not already <now, ** Then, when he threatened to go tosome of the newspapers and get them to publish the scandal —there are some disgraceful journals, you know, always glad to get hold of such things—I dared him to do itand brave the anger of my husband. ‘* Judge Jefferson Jones, as of course you are aware, isa man of both wealth and influence, and would think no more of crushing this mis- erable wretch beneath his heel, than if he were one of the noxious vermin which he so much re- sembles, ‘*This contemptible creature did not dare to rouse the anger of my husband, but being eager to wreak his spite upon him, sought you out and told you that [ was Roxanna, knowing that my resemblance to my twinsister was so great, that you would surely be deceived into the be- lief that I was the woman you sought. ‘You will see, Mr. Crowningshield, that I have spoken frankly, have not kept anything back, nor attempted to defend my sister’s con- duct in the least. ‘*T thought you were entitled to a frank and full explanation, and I have done my best to make everything plain to you. ‘The action that my sister took in running away from you and her child, was unaccount- able to me, and when [ remonstrated with her, saying that the best way to deal with such mis- erable reptiles as Old Lead Pencil, was to defy them from the beginning, all she would reply, was: ***T could not live with that man. His good- ness and his generosity made life a perfect hell to me, and I would rather die than live the ex- istence of deception I was leading. *** He and I did not agree in the least, although there never was the slightest outward sign of such a thing on my part; but his caresses were hateful to me—I could not bear them—although he was everything, both as lover and husband, that a woman could ask. ‘**T endured the chain until it became so op- eer that it seemed to be crushing the very ae out of me, and then I burst my bonds and ed, ‘* Now, sir, you are in possession of all the facts, and my story is ended.” For fully a minute there was silence. Crowningshield sat as still as though he had been transformed to stone, his eyes fixed with an earnest gaze upon the face of the lady, studying it as intently as if he expected to discover from it whether the strange tale which she told was true or not. But if he had any such idea he was doomed to be disappointed, for the beautiful face was as a mask which completely concealed her thoughts. At last Crowningshield spoke: **You will, I trust, excuse me, madam, if I act like a prudent man of the world, and ask you if you have proof of the truth of this story.” The lady inclined her head graciously. ‘*Certainly; the doubt is a reasonable one,” she said, not betraying the least vexation at his unbelieving question. *“The proofs are all in Chicago, and I can give you directions so you can easily get at em. ‘* What are these proofs?” **The notice of the death and burial of Rox- anna Merivale, as printed in the Chicago news- papers. The record kept at the cemetery where she was interred, showing taat at a certain time the mortal remains of such a woman were com- mitted to Mother Earth. The testimony of the doctor who attended her during her brief ill- ness—I can give you his name, but you may not be able to find him, for you must remember that nearly ten years have elapsed, and the man may be dead, for all I know. If he is alive, though, it will not be a difficult matter, for he was no obscure common practitioner, but one of the leading men of the city. The judge did not spare money in doing all he could for my un- fortunate sister.” Crowningshield took out his memorandum- book, opened it, and with his pencil prepared to write. There was a peculiar gleam in the eyes of the lady as she noted the preparations. It was a question whether it denoted triumph or simply satisfaction. ‘You desire the name of the doctor, the cem- etery, and date, I presume?” she said, ‘Not at present, thank you; but have the kindness to oblige me with the name of the vil- lage in Kansas where you lived and where your father died such a miserable death,” he an- swered. CHAPTER XVIII. A DECLARATION OF WAR. AND now again a long pause ensued. The lady gazed at Crowingshield with fixed intensity, and there was a baleful light in her eyes, and it was so apparent that even a less careful observer than the man who had devoted his life to tracking the woman who had proved so false to him could not have helped observing it. ' ee —_ Crowningshield, the Sleuth. The woman was taken completely by surprise: by the unexpected demand and it required some: time for her to collect her thoughts. Why did he wish to know the name of the Kansas village—of what interest was that to him? At length she spoke. ** Did Fiajeretand yourightly?” she question- ed. ‘*‘Do you desire to know the name of the village in kansas where my father met his fate in so fearful a manner?” ‘* Yes, that is the information that I desire.” ‘But why do you wish to know anything about the matter—of what possible interest is it to you?” She put the pare as earnestly as though she was in good truth puzzled by the circum- stance, but in reality she fancied she had guessed his purpose and a wild, mad rage was swelling in her heart. ‘*Madam, you have been very frank with me in this matter,” Crowingshield replied imme- diately, ‘‘ and I desire to be equally so with you. It is my firm belicf that you have told me the true story of Roxanna Merivale, and I can easily comprehend why she should fly from me: and her child feeling as she did, for I can read- ily understand how terrible it must be for a wo- man to be bound to a man whom she does not love—I ought to put it evenstronger than that— whom she really{despises, because he has been fool enough to be captivated by her fair face and is so weak as to believe that the woman he loves would not deceive him with a lie. ‘It explains the mystery which has puzzled me for so many years. ‘*T loved Roxanna Merivale as well as ever any man in this world loved woman, and through all this long lapse of time I have cherished the hope that one day she would re- turn to me and her bright beautiful boy and happiness would once again descend upon my root-tree. ‘*The dream is over now, your words have tak- en the life of the love as surely as the wood- man’s ax does the life of the tree when the keen blade cuts through the heart and the leafy mon- arch topples over to his doom, ‘*T believe every word you have told me about Roxanna Merivale’s early life, and why she tricked me so completely on the night when we first encountered each other; I believe you have told me truly why she left me-—-why she abandoned the husband who would have periled life to save her from the slightest possible harm, and the child for whom she ought to have been willing to shed her heart’s blood drop by drop. ‘*The mother brute will fight for her young to the last gasp—she knows no fear when her offspring are in danger; it is only the human mother that sinks below the level of the beasts and deserts the helpless one oT she ought to protect even at the risk of ife. A faint curl of the lady’s lip was visible as she listened to the impassioned words and a hard, defiant look came into her eyes. ‘*T am satisfied that all of your story is true excepting the end. ‘* Roxanna Merivale is not deat—she is living and you are she!” ‘‘ lhe idea is absurd!” cried the lady in con- tempt, but for all of the scorn which she at- tempted to throw into her features there was an anxious expression there. ‘* The tale of the twin sisters is cunningly con- trived to throw me from the trv *, tI have hunted you down at last and you are foolish. enough to think with this specious tale you can make me believe that you are not the woman I take you to be. ‘*T don’t care to examine the Chicago proofs of which you speak, I can understand how such a trick could be worked without any trou- ble provided plenty of money was furnished to carry the scheme through. ‘‘ In so big a city it would be an easy matter to find a dying girl, a blonde who would answer near enough the description of Roxanna Meri- vale; some poor soul without friends or money to aid her, ‘‘The doctor might either be bribed or de- ceived, into the belief that she was Roxanna Merivale, then the rest follows as a matter of course. ‘*T am not anxious to probe the matter for I know a nearer way of getting at the truth. ‘““Give me the name of the Kansas village where you resided and where your father per- ished. “Tecan quickly ascertain from the residents there whether Solomon Merivale had one daugh- ter or two, and if there were two, whether they were twins or not—twins looking so exactly alike that they could not.he told apart. ‘“‘Tf that is true then I will be able to believe that Ihave been deceived by one of the most marvelous resemblances that this world ever saw. “Tf it is not, if I discover that Solomon Merivale did not have twin daughters named Roselle and Roxanna, then I will know that you are the woman I seek and that your tale in re- gard to the death is a falsehood. ‘‘Therefore oblige me with the name of the village.” | Eomicboo “S (E(o) —_—"