Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 419 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER ITT. A P2OCIOUS PAIR. Two young men sat inacosey smoking-room of a < | streets of Murray Hill, as a . sacred to the golden kings o terme‘. fa contrast these two young men each to the other, One was slender in build and short in stature, with an olive-tinged, foreign-looking face, peculiar eyes f ? of uncertain hue, appearing gray at times and then | dilating into jet black; hair as dark as the raven’s wing, and curlingin little crispy ringlets all over his . head; the face was smoothly shaven and appeared effeminate, yet there were certain lines around the : eyes and the thin-lipped, resolute mouth which con- . tradicted the general appearazice of the counte- | nance. art of the regions New York is often a ‘This was the master of the mansion, Basilias Al- mayne, commonly called the “doctor,” by his ac- quaintances from a tradition which said he once studied for a doctorin foreign lands. Almayne was commonly pap posed to be very wealthy, although really the world at large knew but | little about him. He had only resided in New York about a year, but had not experienced any difficulty owing to the fact some of the lead- rten, whom he had met s story, as told them, in brief, was this: Almayne was the only scion of an old Creole family, which had taken root years ago in Louisiana. He had never said much about his family, but from the fact that they were rich enouzh to send him to for- eign lands to study for a doctor, and always kept him in funds so that he was able to gratify his slightest wish, his associates judged that the Al- maynes were wealtiy, and when studying in Europe young Almayne was, to use the language of his com- anions, ‘‘Satan’sown boy!” The ring-leader of all he students in mischief and dissipation, it was of- ten predicted that if the young Southerner did not die | of drink he would getin some brawl which would ) end fatally for him. ) As a student, Almayne easily held his own against his companions, for he was wonderfully gifted, and | seemed to have the faculty of comprehending upon | the instant what would cost another man hours of | severe study. 7 In fact, he was a genius, all admitted that, and as more than one of his masters said, * he will be a t man one of these days, if he don’t throw away S$ opportunities.” All of a sudden, right in the mitct of hte --" > : studies, Almayne was called home by the death of his mother, and none of his companions saw or heard aught of him until he appeared in New York. Then, inanswer totheir queries, he said all his relatives were dead, and being his own master, he had come to the only city in the New World worth Abr Sang to enjoy himself. From the style of the establishment which he set up, and the manner in which he con- ducted himself, it was apparent that he bad plenty . of money. in jest he would declare that he was a better doctor than nine-tenths of those who won princely incomes by following that profession, and so among his as- sociates he was generally termed “ Doc”’ Almayne. His companion was called Francis Culpepver, a medium-sized blonde youth, with a face, which, al- | though fair to look upon, a good judge of mankind . ' would not have been apt to form a favorable im- | PhS vas tl Ithough not wealth S young gentleman, although not wea moved in good society, for he came of an old | family and was the cousin and confidential man of business of one of the richest men in the city, Red- | mond Lamardale, the retired banker. : Between Almayne and Culpepper a close intimacy existed, as will be perceived by what took place at this interview, the particulars of which we are about to relate. * What is the matter; hig seem out of sorts?’’ Al- : mayne queried, after his visitor was comfortably seated and had his cigar in working order. ‘There has enough happened to put me out of hu- mor,” the other replied, sulkily, ‘‘AndI think that if you knew what | know, you wouldh’t be in a very good humor yourself,” “Unfold yourself, although I doubt the truth of your statement, for I have such a Ceuced good opin- on of myself, that it would take a great deal to worry me,” : ‘““Almayne, can I trust you?” cried the other, abruptly, and with a searching glance at the face of his host, who laughed at the inquiry. “Well, as to that, Frank, ar toes boy, you ought | to be the best judge. You know what you can gay aud I don’t, but if there is any doubt in your mind abou! the matter, give yourself the benefit of it and Jo not speak.”’ ** fang it, Doc, you and I ought to be in the same boat in this matter!” ** Yes, but, old fellow, two men can’t very well ull together unless taey have faith in each other; | Pat is, to achieve anything, I mean.” — : ‘Well, you have as deep an interest in the matter as mysoeli, and if you don’t go in with me you are not the man I take you for, All lask is for you to keep silent about the matter if you don’t see your way clear to join me.” she “All right, Ll give you ty‘word that I will be as _ gilert as the grave, so fire away!"” ; -_ “Ta the first place let me got at your position. If IT undervstand your game you are anxious to marry iss Cassandra Lamardale, old Redmond’s daugh- ver and his heiress.” “I suppose I og of as well own to that soft im- peachmen: though 1 trust you will dome the eee © believe that it is not a together because dra is an heiress that I am attracted.” “Oh, certainly; I understand that, but at the eens time the fact that she is an heiress is no ob- ection, “Old fellow, with my expensive habits it would be sheer folly for me to pretend that a rich wife would not be a dosirable tuing for me to acquire and I will go still further, Franti, and say that if Miss Cassandra had not been likely to come in for a ood bit of money One of these days, itis not likely . in gaining an entree into societ | that he was well acquainted wit ing young =r of the up abroad, ~———-.— — — —- a ee eo = ig. t I should have ever troubled my head about her, | beautiful and attractive as sho is.’ : | ; “You know that the lady doesn't regard you with The Bat of the Battery. ' sumptuous mansion on one of the fashionable cross | He pursued no business, although often, a favorable eye, and that if you win her consent it will bo because she yields to her rather’s request.” ““Oh, yes; she docsu’t particularily fancy me, but then she isn’t in love with any one else, and believes that she never will be, and so is not so much averse to marrying me as under other circumstances she might be.” ‘Now, then, I will come directly to the point. You know Batterhofer, the lawyer?” The other nodded, ‘“‘He is Lamardale’s adviser, and when the old entleman announced at lunch to-day that Batter- ,0fer was coming to see him on important business, my curiosity was excited and I determined to know what took place at the interview, for I will own frankly I am deeply interested. am about the only relative, with the exception of his daughter, that the old man has, and I have always under- stood that at his death I was to be well remem- bered, “The lawyer came in reference to the old man’s will, as I suspected; I managed to overhear every word of the conversation, and now, prepare to be astonished! Cassancra is not Lamardale’s dauzhter, but an adopted child, and at his death she is to receive only a small part of his fortune, and that so tied up that the interest alone will come to her; a few thousand dollars are left to me, also invested so that I cannot touch the principal—curse the old scoundrel; you see he doesn’t trust me afterall these years! “loo bad,” and Almayne shook his head: but there was a look in his eyes which seemed to say that he did not wonder at it. “And the rest of his fortune, his millions daily growing larger and larger, what do yousuppose is to become of them?” “T haven't an idea, unless like many another old man‘in his dotage he is going to make up for the sins of his youth by giving money to some charitable purpose.” “No, crossing from England to this country, on the seas at this present moment, an emigrant pas. senger, is a young girl, without parents, without a living relative in the world, as far as she knows; she is called Lesbia Mardol; she is to be received by the old lawyer, who was charged wlth the task of bringing her to this country, Lamardale providin the money. The girl thinks that some friends o her dead father, moved by charity, have brought her over, and she comes here to earn her hving. The lawyer is to find a place for her, she is to be put on probation, the fact being carefully concealed from her; Lamardale is to keep careful watch of her, and if she comes up to his anticipations, she is to be h:s heiress.” ‘““The deuce you say!” cried Almayne, startled by this intelligence. ‘“‘ Why, what on earth put the idea into his head? What is the girl to him?” “Nothing at all; she is an entire stranger; he has never even seen her. Why, Batterhofer, who as a general ruleis not in the least curious, was amazed at the strangeness of the affair, but Lamardale said he had good reason for his action, and that in time he would exp!ain.”’ sis ri Kg a trifle that the old man means to marry e gir se y own idea, exactly, for he said she was a beauty, and splendidly educated.” ‘* What steamer is she on?” “The City of Chester, due here next Monday. Now then, if the old man likes the girl after she arrives, and carries out this idea, good-by both to your hopes and mine.” “We must keep a watch on the parties; the stake is res oom 7: le tiga OO ou fo in with me then to put a spoke in the on sn eg hod» ll ‘ P of i iti yes, for I want Cassandra, and I want a fortune with her too. There are plenty of tools to be found in a city like this who for money will do anything. We watch events, and when the time comes be prepared to interfere.” And so the compact was made; two strong men against an old man and an innocent young girl. CHAPTER IV. THE EMIGRANT GIRL. PROMPTLY ark the date that she was expected, the City of Chester made her appearance in New York harbor; only, being detained sO6mewhat by fogs, she arrived in the evening instead of the morn- inc, and so she came to anchor off quarantine, at which the passengers grumbled loudly, for one and all were impatient to reach the shore, But it was not to be, and they were forced to con- tent themselves with gazing at the dark outlines of Staten Island, rising plainly visible in the bright agrees =p ' mong the steerage passengers, leaning over the bulwarks and looking at the distant cts, visible here and there upon the crest of Staten Island, was a young girl, who was so beautiful that she had at- tracted much attention during the voyage, This was Lesbia Mardol, the girl referred to by the two plotters in our last chapter, In figure she was about the medium size, most ex- quisitely formed, and with a face of rare beauty, be- ing pure Greek, a perfect oval, and lit up a as handsome a pair of great, brown eyes as ever dwelt in Leet a anaes e was plainly dressed, yet very lady-like in a earance, quite reserved her Temimere. and = erent from the usual run of single young giris who cross the ocean to seek a new life, that all of the officers of the ship who came in contact with her unanimously agreed that she was far more fitted to shine in the cabin than any lad’ on board of the ship. All wondered that such a girl should be obliged to cross the ocean alone, and in the steer- age; but she had sucha quiet, dignified way with her, that no one cared to run the risk of offending her by questions. The third officer, a good-looking, fellow, was especially interested in on this particular evening happening to come across her, still gazing over the stern bulwarks at the dis- tant land, he plucked up pee to say a few words. They were almost alone on the deck, nearly all the passengers mia Bye below. i Bite a cya nig: t, — eae he remarked, as me u where she stood, wrapped dream meditation. ; " . “Yes, very pleasant, Mr. Blount,” blue-eyed blonde the girl, and late | ning of ze trip, but after ze first day the ship. If the man was a stowaway, he had mea pone managed to endure the voyage about as well as ap —— The offieer anewered tothe name of James Blount, *You will be glad enough to get on shore to-mor- row, I suppose,”’ he remarked. “IT shall not be very sorry, although the trip has been a pleasant one,” Blount hesitated and fidgeted about in an awk- ward way for a moment, and then said: “T hope you will not think me inquisitive, but I suppose you have friends on shore ready to meet ou?” “Trriends,”’ and there was a mournful tone in her voice as she spoke, and her eyes had a vacaut look as she gazed upon the waste cf waters, * yes, I sup- pose so, although as yet they are strangers to me.” “Oh, I thought it likely that you had relatives on this side of the water.”’ “T haven’ta relative in the wide world that 1 know of, and I do not really think that any exisi.”’ ‘All alone in the world?”’ “Yes; although perbaps I ought not to say that, for these strangers who have caused mo to come across the ocean are acting Jike truc triends; andas I have not had many so far ia my life, perhais fare designs to make oe for the past by providing me with plenty in the future.”’ “Well, Miss Mardol, if you will allow me, I should like to be ranked among your friends in the time to come, although now Iam merely an acquaintance. This is my last trip on the steamer; Iam about to embark in business on shore in New York. Tiiswill be my address hereafter, and if at any time I canbe of any assistance to you, I hope vou will not neglect to call upon me,” and he handed her a card. She placed it in her pocket-book, than!:ing him for the offer, which, in her present condition, afiected her more than she cared to manifest. ‘“* Yes, lam tired of a roving life, and have deter- mined to settle down,”’ he sazid. ‘i Lave secured a good business opening, and I think the chances are that I shall prosper.” “‘T am sure, I hope so!’’ Miss Mardol exclaimed, and this was no mere empty compliment; fur the kindness of the young man had aad - a deéy iimnpres- sion upon her, and her wish for his success was sin- cere. ‘“‘What land call you that, sar?” asked a rather harsh voice at the ear of Blount; and turning, he beheld one of the stecrage passengers, ali muited up in a long old-fashioned cloak, and with a slouch hat pulled well down over his ears. In additicn to the cloak, he had a woolen comforter wrapped around his neck just as though he was cold, although the air was balmy and spring-like as became a pleas- ant May evening. . In person, the man was under the medium size, with a swarthy face fringed by coarse, black hair worn quite long; a stubby, brown-black beard cov- ered his chin, and altogotnee he presented a brigand- | like, although picturesque appearance. “That is Staten Island,” responded Blount, taking a good look at the man, for be did not remein ever having seen before, which he thought was strange, for he had an excellent memory for fact and rather prided himself upon the fact. Then, too, the tace of the man was an odd one—a face that once seen would not be apt to be forgotten. ‘* Staten Island,’’ remarked the man in a reflective sort of way; “that is not ze New York then?’ — ‘**No; the city lies further up the bay. But you will excuse my curiosity, I trust—whoere on earth have you kept yourself during this voyage? Ido not remember to have seen you; but you are a pas- senger, of course,”’ **Oh, no; I have just dropped from ze clouds!” responded the man witha laugh, speaking iu a pleas- ant, flexible voice, now strangely at variance his rough, uncouth appearance; and from theslight accent which there was to his speech, Blount came to the conclusion that he was a foreigner—either a Frenchman or an Italian. “By Jove! I must say I don’t seem to remember ou any more than if you did; and it’s deuced or we haven't a large passenger list this trip, and didn’t thing there was a person on board of the ship by I badn’t —. : . r you saw me often enough, sar, at the - i was attocked by ze dreadful sea malady and sought ‘ze seclusion which ze cabin grants,’ as your devine singers say in ze Pinafore.” The man was a gentleman, evidently, despite the fact that no one would have taken him to be one - from his personal appearance; but, somehow, a * strange doubt had seized upon Blount; he felt a sud- © den and most decided aversion to the man, and he could not get the impression out of bis mind that, notwithstanding the asseriion to the contrary, he had never set eyes upon his face before. “How may I call your name, cir?”’ he asked, plain- ly betraying by his face that he regarded the other ~ with suspicion. ** Leon Du Claire.” “You are a Frenchman, I presume?” “A French Italian,’ responded the man, with that uliar shrug of the shoulders so common to the a tat “i rench by descent, but born and reared n f Rw. biouut had watched the stranger with an earnest eye, and the more he saw of him the more convinced he became that he had never set eyes upon the man — before. He was not a passenger, for if he had Blount knew that he most certainly would have see him. How, then, was it that Lhe came to be on ~ board the steamer? Hecould not very well have — dropped from the clouds, as he asserted, although it was possible that he couid have gained access to the deckwof the s.\eamer by taking advantage of the darkness and coming alongside in a small boat: but then what game was the man up to that he should take such a course? There wasn’t anything to be ained by sv doing, as far as Blount could see, and he came to the conclusion that the fellow wasa — stowaway, that is, he had stolen on board the steamer without a ticket before sho left England, and had in some mysterious manner to conceal himself among the freight the voyage. Sucha thing had been done, but very rarely, for after a day or two in the dark hold the stowaways were generally glad to sn out and — throw themselves upon the mercy of the captain of | on board, and Blount’s curiosity was so > cpoo “com * f @ and live through _