Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 363 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

Crowningshield, the Sleuth. ! coming or going, so the girl and I had it all to ourselves. ‘*She went on until sho came to the draw where the piers jut out into the water; she climbed from the bridge down onto the left hand pier, walked clear to the end of it and there paused, gazing intently down upon the moving tide. “T felt certain now that she intended to make the leap and so quietly stole up behind her. **Oh, Heaven!’ she said, communing with herself, ‘how dark and terrible looks the inky flood, but in its close embrace there is eternal peace, eternal rest!’ * And then, extending her arms, she jump- ? ** And you caught her, of course, before she performed the operation,” exclaimed Endicott, who had followed the story with great imterest. ** An extremely interesting break—to be con- tinued in our next,” observed the medical student. ** Yes I caught her before she left the pier, and whirled her around, keeping atight hold on her, and said: *** Young woman, what on earth are you up to? Don’t you know that you are committing a sin against your Creator by attempting to take the life which he gave you?’ ” “Oh, you’ve mistaken your vocation—you ought to be a parson, if you can rattle it off as easily as that!” exclaimed the irrepressible Winslow. ‘** Hold your yawp! as the Downeasters say!” cried the lawyer. ‘“* Gentlemen, by this movement I was brought face to face with the girl, and I give you my word, although I am an artist and have made a study of such things, I never knew how beauti- ful a woman could be until that moment. ‘* She was a girl of eighteen or nineteen, with the face of a child—a clear red and white com- plexion, eyes of the deepest, darkest blue, hair pure golden in color and clinging in little clus- tering curls over the most perfect forehead I ever saw; in fine, take the face for all in all, a vision of most heavenly beauty!” ““T take it back, more poet than parson,” ‘Winslow remarked, ‘* She burst into a flood of tears and nestled ar penn down upon my bosom like a tired child. ‘* When she recovered from her emotion she told me her sad story. ** She had been reared in England, having lost her parents at an early age, and there was some mystery about them that she never under- s : ** Death struck down her relatives there and she was advised to seek an uncle who resided here in Boston. ‘*She crossed the ocean and landed*in this country with ey a nny in her pocket, “ attempts to find her uncle were in vain; she tried to procure work, but being a stranger in a strange land, every door seemed closed against her; her money became exhausted, and rather than appeal for charity she determined to destroy herself, but my opportune arrival prevented the accomplishment of that purpose. ‘*T provided her with money and took her to a quiet hotel, explaining to the landlord that she was a lady triend who, upon visiting the city had not been able to find the people whom she came to see. ‘*The next day I found a boarding-house for her and told her not to worry because I would pay all bills until she was able to provide for her- se “But I hadn’t any idea of letting her work for I had fallen in love with her and was determined to marry her if she would have a" ‘*In three months I won her consent and we were secretly married. I feared my uncle’s an- ger and so I didn’t dare to let h know of a affair until I felt strong enough to stand alone, . “7 didn’t even let my wife know anythin of my family affairs; she knows I’m an artis ne manages to make a decent living and that is all. ‘*T confessed to uncle to day, and though he was annoyed yet he agreed to sce my wife and I am to bring him to her to-morrow, I can see very plainly that he believes I have fallen into the hands of some wily adventuress and made a fool of myself, but when he once looks into the face of my angel wife and sees my beautiful boy, he will change his mind.” ‘Well, you’ve got it bad, old fellow, and for a man who has been married fifteen months, too, it is wonderful,” Winslow observed, ** Joke away all you like, but I’ve been a hap- man ever sinco I wedded my little woman. ncle is suspicious though, I'll own, and he has requested mo not to say anything about our family cr social position, until he gets a chance to see her. I have an idea that he is going to play the pose old uncle dodge on her, bet I'll e my life on her standing the test. “T never said a word about my expectations because I wanted to surprise her some day. “But now, boys, I must be off. I’ve got to call upon my dear ones and then take the late i train to Providence, as I have arranged to meet my patron there at eight in the morning, the man who discovered me as Columbus discovered America. **One last glass at parting, gentlemen, and please remember, although Il am a married man anda man of family, yet lam just as much a member of our brotherhood as I ever was, and if any trouble should come to either one of you, both my money and life are at your ser- vice! “Tt isa grand legend, boys, ‘one for all and all for one!’” And then the three clasped hands and drank their wine. Five minutes later Crowningshield departed. The other two remained silent for a few mo- ments after the door closed behind their friend. The lawyer was the first to speak. ** What do you think, Winslow?” ‘“'That the old captain is right; our friend isin the toils [fear. Heis just as innocent asachild. The bridge scene was played to entrap him and succeeded to perfection,” ‘* Suppose trouble comes?” o6 Well yull him through either by fair means or foul. We'll stick to him tighter than wax.” “True, one for all and all forone! Fill up your glass again and we'll drink confusion to all adventuresses!” CHAPTER IIT. THE TAWNY SIREN. CROWNINGSHIELD had domiciled his wife in a couple of cosey furnished rooms up-town on Dover street, a block or so this side of South Boston bridge. All of his friends and acquaintances being located on the other side of town in the Beacon street district, he judged that there would not be much danger of any one recognizing him so far up-town. His calculation was correct. Since he had taken his wife there he had never encountered a soul in the neighborhood whom he knew. The rooms too were situated in such a way as to be easily accessible frem the street. They were up one flight, and could be reached by both a front and rear staircase. All one had to do was to pass in by the gate at the side of the house, go through the narrow passage to the yard and thenascend by the back stairs. One was not put to the trouble of going tothe door and unlocking it witha latch-key. Owing to the peculiar way in which the young artist was situated he was not able to be home but a few hours during the twenty-four. Dependent as he was upon his uncle’s bounty he took all oa precautions to prevent the discovery of his secret. He left his wife at an early hour in the morn- ing and did not return until near midnight. n this way his absence was never noticed or commented upon. He had a room at his uncle’s house on Beacon street, bachelor apartments of his own in the same building in which his studio was situated on Tremont street, besides the old garret, the club-room of the three friends. When he was not at one place he was supposed to be at one of the others, and so until the success of his picture enabled him to make a bold stand, his secret was not even suspected. After leaving his fmends Crowningshield pro- ceeded to Washington street and took a car which soon landed him in front of the house which held his treasures. As it was night, he went by way of the front door, and proc up-stairs. He had told his wife that he should return earlier that evening than usual, on account of by trip to Providence, and she was awaiting m, The child had been put to bed, and was repos- ing in peaceful slumber in the cradle, ‘Phe young husband had not overestimated the beauty of the girl whose acquaintance he had made so strangeiy, and whom he had so strangely won. She was wonderfully beautiful, and yet there was something lacking in the face. A close observer would have hit off the truth by saying that there wasn’t any ‘‘ soul” in the features. It was more like the face of a beautiful doll than the face of a woman, and yet there was ee and spirit enough about it, too; the flashing eyes, resolute lines about the mouth, and thin n proved that. She was a little under the medium hight, beautifully ha agi ore, a figure worthy the attention of the old-time sculptor, who, from the cold marble created tho Venus, so perfect in every respect, that it seemed more like a sleep- ante mortal than anything else. .But she was an odd creature, and there was something about her that at times puzzled even the husband who fairly idolized her. She was only twenty, aon in the blush and bloom of youth, yet she did not act at all like a young girl. | She was so very quiet and reserved, At her age the average young woman is fond of pleasure, delights to mingle with the world, a enjoys the shows of society. But the artist’s bride, on the contrary, never seemed to care to go abroad, but much preferred to remain secluded at home. And then, at times, she was troubled with cad, silent spells, and in spite of her beauty and tke suggestion of passion that her face and form promised, she was as cold as a vestal sworn to eternal service at the shrine of some heathen goddess, The artist himself was not of a passionate nature, having the true, cold, Northern temper- ament; but sometimes the thought would occur to him that he would be far happier if his wifo had a more loving nature. Even to her child, as sweet a little golden- haired fellow as ever the eyes of a mother looked upon, she was cold and distant, She did not seem to take the extreme delight in his childish gambols which mothers are wont to take, and sometimes the dread _ suspicion would come into the mind of the young husband that there was something the matter with his wife’s brain, and yet in everything but. this coldness toward her husband and her child, she seemed to be all right, Her name was an odd one, too; a name sel- dom borne by a girl nowadays, It was Roxanna—Roxanna Merivale. She was sitting at the table when Crownine- shield entered, resting her cheek upon her rare, with a vacant look in her eyes as though her thoughts were far away. She rose to greet her husbend, saluting him with the cold, formal kiss so utterly without any demonstration of affection natural to her, ** I can spare you but a few minutes to-night,” he said, as he sat down in the rocking-chair and drew the beautiful creature upon his lap. ‘*Having tarried down-town longer than I ought to have done, I must haste away so as to catch my train,” ‘“ Will you have some lunch before you go?” she rsked, submitting patiently to his caresses, but not making the slightes . pretense of return- ing them. ‘No, I haven’t time, I thought I would just run in and take a look at you and my boy, that’s all. How is my darling? ‘*'Well—perfectly well: he is always well,” she answered, in the most indifferent manner ible. A hired nurse would have betrayed ar more interest in the child, Her manner pained the father; someway he did not feel.at all right about leaving her to- night, but he tried manfully to rid himself of the idea. ‘Well, puss, you can exist without me for one night, I sup ik ‘*T will have to try, whether I like it or not,” she replied, with a faint smile, ‘*Of course, one of these days, when the time comes, one Of us will have to exist without the other.” **Oh, don’t talk in that way!” the husband exclaimed, ‘‘ You make a cold chill run all over me, *T shall be back to-morrow all right; there’s not the least danger of an doalioat in a little run down to Providence, ** To-morrow, you know, my uncle is coming to see you, | ‘* He’s a quaint old fellow—followed the sea in his early life, and is full of all sorts of ideas, but his heart is in the right place.” ‘* You think a great dea) of your uncle, I su pe; or you would not burden yourself wi im,” and as the girl spoke there was an accent in her voice that grated on the ears of Crown- ingshield. ‘You mustn’t speak in that way, dear. He's a a old soul, and does far more for me than I for him.” The manner in which she spoke gave him the impression that she believed his uncle to be a poor man, and dependent upon him for sup- to give her this idea. Il he had done in the matter was to suppress — the fact that the old captain was one of the rich- est men in the city. He did not like the tone in which she pease and while he was meditating how he could dis- abuse her mind of the idea that his uncle was ag i on his bounty without revealin ©: a as truth in regard to his riches, she said, abruptly: “You believe in we humans having faith in one another, don’t you?” : ‘Yes, most decidedly! What would this world be without trust and faith?” ort. “ Now, he had never said anything calculated - ‘** And if you trusted any one it would be a — hard matter to shake your faith in them?’ ‘* Yes, indeed.” And this was the truth, for a more loyal man never trod the earth than the young a ** And have you faith in me?" ‘*As much faith as I have in heaven,” Crown- hield answered. ‘And you would not believe any one who should come to you and tell wild tales about my _ life before [ knew you?” The girl was playing a part now, for she was exerting all the powers cf the wonderful gifts Sphere had given her to fascinate her hae ido 900) Me ins c =)