Beadle's Dime Library No. 366 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

om , ’ 7 an . 2 7 » Jee nes ™ = The wet oe So Rees Selesrenn Detective. 19 The maiden’s face was pale, her hair di- sheveled, her whole appearance telling of her wretched vigil of distress and anxiety. But she was still the brave, defiant soul of the wronged daughter and heiress, and con- fronted her tormer.tor unfline hingly. ‘‘This farce of battle under one roof, be- tween husband and wife, must cease, > he said, authoritatively. “TTusband and wife!” she found words to repeat the insinuation with a scornful curl of her lips. ‘“You still dare deny it?’ demanded Re- vere, angrily. ‘{ dare disbelieve it,” she retorted, glane- ing at his anger-flushed face defiantly. “Outsiders will not, Constance Revere! Oh, you need not shudder at the name; it is yours rightfully, and now it is either war or peace between us.” ‘Then let it be war!” eried the’ girl, pas- sionately—*‘ for your acknowledged wife | will never be.” ‘‘Perhaps you will change your mind,” replied Revere. ‘I have in my possession a duly attested certificate of marriage and the evidence of witnesses to the ceremony that you wedded me.’ “Then I was drugged or unconscious when you enacted the “fraud,” asserted Gon- stance, bitterly. ‘* Perhaps; but that does not alter the fact that you and your friends are completely in my power. What I can prove is that you are my wife—that you were wedded to me in apparent sincerity; your story or my reper ytion will cut no figure in annulling that sacred contract. I hoped to win your love; [ see it is impossible. There are two motives in my action—love and money. I may relinquish the former, but the latter, never ! She understood him now. His sordid na- ture craved money, and she experienced a gleam of hope as she believed that he would accept the compromise of wealth, if in her power to bestow it. ‘*T am seriously involved,” he continued, ‘‘and must have money. You have none, but you can at your will call from conceal- ment Robert Marvin, the man who has the casket left by your father for you.’ She did not reply, but listened to his excit- ed words, ‘*Since you affect scorn for my love,” he continued, ‘‘ let us compromise on a ransom. Oh! I am sordid—selfish if you will,” he ad- ded, noticing her scornful face—“ anything to carry out my purposes. Promise to act as I desire in securing this casket and I will release you from the marriage contract.” “Never!” exclaimed Constance, firmly. ‘‘My hand will never be employed to bring back into your power the man you have so vaieneiatbe: I defy you to do your worst, Adrian Revere! You are not my husband; your only power over me is the power which the jailer exercises over a prisoner. I refuse to treat with you. Harm me at your peril! Announce our marriage publicly, and I will disprove your every assertion.” “* By your insane ideas concerning Ar- minie Royale, I suppose?” sneered Revere, ‘‘Tt matters not. You deny that she is your wife, but your false face gives the lie to your denial.” ‘* Even if true I defy you to find her, or one single proof that she was aught but a fa- vorite with me. lam no trifler when I lay my snares. If Arminie Royale was ever wedded to me, her death annuls that con- tract, for she is dead and the proofs ef my relation toward her were destroyed with her death.” The girl started back, alarm depicted on her white face as she realized the depth of villainy and depravity of this man’s na- ture. ‘‘Arminie Royaledead—murdered by you, or at your instigation—" she began. “No! she is not dead, and the proofs of her marriage to Adrian Revere are not dc- stroyed.” The villain recoiled in alarm, and Con- stance Thorndyke was amazed as the words broke upon her hearing, for the door had ad- mitted a stranger into the apartment. se Torrance! How came you here?’ de- manded Revere, angrily, as he recognized his guest. ‘‘I came to right a wrong, to unmask you, villain and murderer that you are!” | His eyes flashing with concentrated rage and indignation, the simulated Torrance ad- vanced toward Revere. The scoundrel recog- nized the change in voice and manner of his guest and dimly foresaw a new menace, real- izing vaguely that he had been made the vic- tim of an imposture, ‘‘ You are not Torrance!” he cried. ‘“No! lam your victim of the past, your avenger, now!” “ Great heavens! Jt is Robert Marvin [” The words broke like a scream of agony from the villain’s bloodless lips, as the false Torrance stood revealed in his true identity, the beard torn from his face. ‘‘ Ay! Adrian Revere; you recognize me now. Surrounded by your emissaries in the flush of your iniquity and success, you are in my power. You thought to deceive this | poor girl with your cowardly lies, but you reckoned without knowing the truth, for your legal wife, Arminie ‘Roy rale, was not Soereetl red by the men you hired, but is now alive, burning with desperate desire for ven- geance for your cowardly treachery, and in her power is the man you have so relied on, a close prisoner—Sidney Torrance, the le: ad- er of that iniquitous band of assassins, the Dynamite League.” Every word was rendered with the vehe- mence of an accusing spirit, Even as he spoke, Robert Marvin seemed as if about to spring upon the man who had so cruelly wronged him, and strangle him then and there, ‘‘The latter, choking with terror and amazement at the startling revelations of his enemy, could only murmur: ‘* Tt cannot be!” “You will soon learn the truth, Adrian Revere,” returned Marvin. ‘‘As to your claim on the hand and fortune of this perse- cuted girl,” and his eyes wandered tenderly to the bewildered Constance—‘‘Ict. this dis- disprove all your base assertions,” He had drawn from his pocket a yellow, time-worn paper. Revere’s colorless lips broke into a cry of new alarm as he recogniz- ed the document—the marriage-certificate stolen from his secretary, evidencing his re lation to the woman, Arminie Royale, whom he supposed dead. It nerved him to so sudden a reaction from overwhelming surprise that his quick movement took Marvin completely off his guard, ‘*'You shall not triumph!” he yelled, in tones like those of an infuriated madman. ‘Help! help! help!” As he screamed the words loudly, he threw himself bodily upon Marvin. The latter was armed, but before he could recover from the shock of the encounter, and draw a weapon, Revere had borne him down to the floor and held his struggling form in the close embrace of desperation, Hurrying footsteps echoed on the stair- way: there was a quick rush along the little corridor, and two men, sakoaat by their master’scry, dashed into the room. ‘‘ Secure this man!” panted Revere, as the men approached him, ‘‘ Your victory is not yet assured,” he cried, with a malignant glance at the terrified Constance. ‘ Another of your meddlesome friends shall pay the forfeit of his buldness.”’ But, she had eyes only for Robert Marvin. The hirelin gs had sched him, but it required all their a strength to prevent him from breaking from their grasp and rushing upon the crime-stained man he so hated. Over the white, care-traversed face had come a sickly y ellow hue; into the unnatural gleaming eyes a maniacal light, while his voice rung out in fierce, incoherent maledic- tions against his enemy, Adrian Revere. ‘‘Great heavens, he is insane!” moaned Constance, sinking to a chair and covering her face with her hands. Revere had followed the men out into the hallway as they bore their struggling burden down the stairs. ‘‘T will leave the house with the girl at once,”’ he muttered, *‘but first must dispose of this maniac.” ‘What shall we do with him?” inquired one of the men, as they reached the lower floor. In reply, Revere went to a corner of the hallway and lifted a trap in the floor. ™ He spoke no word, but they understood him fully; they lifted ‘their captive over the trap, then flung Marvin down into the black darkness of the place. They heard his wild ravings, and as they closed the trap-door, the picture of his glar- ing eyes and w hite face seemed framed in the dark aperture, but they also knew that he was secure from escape, believing the low muttered words of Revere: ‘* He is doomed!” CHAPTER XVIII. ON THE TRAIL. Wir all the diligence of the skilled de- tective, Dorsett lost. no time in reaching Morris after his companion had taken the train for New York city. He found the little village in a turmoil of excitement over the mystery of the runaway engine, espe- | clally in the vicinity of the station, but was | enabled to secure no evidence - concerning the struggle near the engine in which Tor- rance, his accomplices, the Telegraph De- tective and Arminie Royale had taken a part. It was broad daylight when he concluded that the following up of the matier would result only in the finding of the body of the woman in some lonely spot in the vicinity, the assassins having flown to the city to lose themselves from the possibility of recogni- tion, It was well on toward evening when he struck a trail which he believed might lead to further developments. A boat c ontainine a woman’s shawl—the same which Robeit Marvin had unconsciously allowed to drift down the river after rescuing the French: woman—had been found in the stream. From this point he proceeded up the stream, looking out for marks of a struggle or traces of human beings in the evidently unfre- quented. lee: lity. He finally paused at the spot where Rob- ert Marvin had laid Arminie on the grass. The handkerchief used by the villains to chloroform the woman had been left behind, thus affording Dorsett new evidence that the crime was there committed, if such had oc- curred. Easily tracing the footsteps of the man and woman through the.damp loam, they led him from the river to within sight of the old cabin which Marvin hed left less than an hour before. He approached the old structure cautious- ly to hear the echo of voices conversing within, and caught the name of Torrance, and he recognized a woman’s voice. No one greeted his sight as he peered into the front room; then he advanced boldly into the rear room. His footsteps alarmed Arminie Royale, who at that moment was taunting her prisoner, and making his galling incarceration as miserable as possible. She started back as she came to the door. ‘‘A stranger!” she cried, in alarm, but coming forward, closed the door after her. The detective glanced at her suspiciously. To him Arminie Royale was as much a stranger as Constance Thorndyke, but some- how, in a manner he could not account for, his mind decided that she was connected with the Tnystery of the river. ‘Do knowing what to say. She knew not if he was some emissary of the League unknown to her, an officer, or a casual traveler, but his dress and city w ve informed her that he was not a resident of the vicinity. ‘* Yes,” eyes upon him witha lo pleasure at his intrusion. want?” ‘*Do you live here alone?” Her eyes flashed at his persistency. _‘ Why do you ask?” she demanded. ‘‘ Because I am looking for aman J believe to be in this neighborhood. - ‘* What is his name?” “Sidney Torrance!” He watched her narrowly as he spoke and detected the quick start his words caused her to make. ‘*T know of no such person, ’ ’ she said. ‘* Who is in that other room?” He advanced a step as if to see for himself. Arminie Royale’s hand stole to her pocket, and the next moment a revolver gleamed be- fore the astonished detective, she replied, bole fixing her dark evidencing dis- ‘* What do you ‘‘Stand back!” she cried, with flashing © eyes. you live here?” he asked, scarcely Eomicboo (C Ss) con