Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 501 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

a _ =m = oa _— 4 $e ee ee ———————— NS a Are » 2 a - teel Steve. Spring , ae ry 3s : The mistress of Willard Manse was fast losing patience. ‘You are unnecessarily wordy, sir,” said she, also rising with some peremptoriness. ‘* Why shall you not call again to see my husband, as I advise?” ‘* Because I shall prefer to await bis return here,” ** Sir, you are not only presumptuous, you are insolent! Good-day to you!” The rogue saw his mistake, but only when it was too late. ‘* Madam,” he began, persistenly, ‘‘if I have unwittingly—” ‘‘Q@uit the house instantly, or it will be the worse for you.” She touched the bell, as he was going, and with very little ceremony. ‘‘ Let me also advise you, Captain Orlando Perez, of the Army of the Republic of Uruguay—and I really hope there won’t be any national compli- cations over this affair—that our bouse-dogs are both numerous and unfriendly, when approach- ed without an authenticated introduction. Mary,” to the servant, now making her appear- ance On the front piazza, to which the parting scene had been gradually transferred, *‘ note this impudent person thoroughly.” “Yes, ma’m,” and Mary courtesied with a grin. ‘* He’s not to be admitted again, unless by Mr. Willard’s express orders to the contrary. You will notify your fellow-domestics accord- ingly—especially Patrick, the coachman, and Albert, the gardener.” ‘Yes, ma’m,” And at this juncture Albert, a gigantic Swiss, and as formidable-looking as a Papal body- guard, hove in sight around the path, witha mighty spade over his shoulder and murderous possibilities in his phlegmatic eye. But the visitor, who had by this time reached the lowest step, did not seem a whit discomfited, He was making his last bow, with his band on his heart, and as much sang froid as if he were being dismissed with all the honors of the house at bis disposal, ‘oy, ilard may not remember me by name,” said he, blandly. ‘‘ Therefore, if madam, in making my acknowledgments to him, will but deign to mention a single phrase—a sort of. old pass-word between friends—it will bring me and certain services distinctly to his recollec- tion,’ ‘Very well, sir,” replied Edna, now consid- ' erably mollitied, ‘*‘ what is the phrase with which - [Tam to awaken bis recollection?” ‘** Tt consists of but two words, ma’m—Bleak Hollow !” And with that the unwelcome visitor strode carelessly away. CHAPTER XVIII. DOUBTS AND FEARS. It may well be imagined that the strange vis- itor’s parting words were such as to awaken vague uneasiness in Edna Willard’s conscious- C88, She waited anxiously for her husband's re- turn, and when she did see him at last galloping up the drive on his favorite black saddle-horse, wi heart for some reason grew heavy within er, Kidgar was a superb horseman, as most Span- ish-Americans are, and he was looking so full of manly grace and happiness on this occasion, that she found herself full of unaccountable ap- prehension, lest the news of that ‘sinister man’s visit should in some way darken his spirits and rhaps his very home, The Spee of the young wife were in. some degree verified. Willard first heard of the man’s description with ill-concealed uneasiness, and Edna could not but remark that he Nstened to the details of the visit with his face more persistently bowed over the crowing infant, which he had taken in his arms, than was altogether natural, as if he would conceal its changes from her, When he looked up at last, however, he was thoroughly composed. ** When was your father to return from the city, my dear?” were the first words he spoke. “ This evening, or in the morning, he thought,” was her reply. ** Ah, I’m glad of that!” and he at once bright- ened up. ‘ 4 shall surely,” with emphasis, ‘* be on hand when our Uruguayan captain makes his second call.” . Edna at once felt relieved, though not entirely SO. ‘“‘ Oh, I’m so glad!” she said. ‘* Why so?’ and he looked up from the baby, to kiss her. “ You—you didn’t fear anything for me, darling?” ** Not exactly that, but— Oh, I forgot to tell you the man’s parting phrase, a sort of pass- word he called it, by which he was certain to be recalled to your recollection. And that, more than anything else, made me anxious.” ** Indeed! a pass-word that you were to give “It was not necessary,” said he, coldly. “I should have recalled the man by your descrip- tion, without it. Think no more of it, my love. | And let us go down to cinner; my ride has given | me a rare appetite.” But Edna could not dismiss the matter so summarily from her mind, and the boasted ap- etite when put to the test sadly belied its vaunft, Edgar could only dally with his food, excel- | lent and varied as it was; for the manse cooking me, eh?” ss Yes.” “What was it?” ** Bleak Hollow.” ' The muscles in Edgar’s face tightened, as if he had prepared for something of the sort. 7 * * Ae was one of the wonders of the country-side un- der the new dispensation; and he seemed to fall into and rouse himself out of unpleasant reveries by fits and starts. ** Do tell me what it is!” she murmured per- suasively, a little later. They were again alone, and she was nestling closely to his side, after her accustomed way in the gathering dusk, while he consumed cigarette after cigarette in the broad and stately piazza overlooking the lawn and the drive. He made no attemptat evasion, either from his natural hatred of subterfuge, or because he knew how little it would avail him with her, *T con’t tell you everything, my darling—at least not now,” the young man answered, slow- ly, as if collecting bis nerve, ‘‘ But I do confess that the prospect of an interview with this man oppresses me,” **Can’t I help vou?” ‘* Not now; though I am in hopes that your father can.” “Take me just a little into your confidence, then—won’t you?” ** Perhaps so,” And he smoothed her pretty blonde hair with his band. ‘** Well, then, who is this man?” ‘Other than he pretends—a rascal, a blood- sucker and a villain!” **So I should have judged, But isn’t his name Perez, and isn’t he a Uruguayan officer, at all?” **Oh, he may have been all that, among other things.” ** An adventurer?” » ‘*Ay, and a desperate one, But,” half to himself, ‘‘ even he may over-reach himself yet.” ‘* But how strange, dear, that he should not have heard of Mr. Harper’s death!” She felt the strong arm partly encircling her tremble, and then stiffen ont strongly. “That is odd!” Edgar admitted. ‘* One would have thought him cognizant of that.” * Still,” Edna went on, ‘‘ he balf-acknowledged that he was not very recently from Uruguay.” ‘** Ah, that would explain it, then.” ‘Still [am greatly puzzled, dear.” ** At what?” ‘*from what I have been impressed with re- garding Mr. Harper, he must have been a sensi- tive and refined young gentleman.” ‘** I think he was all that.” **Then how could he have been on terms of intimacy with such a fellow as this Perez?” ‘** How do you know that he was?” *“*T only surmise, Edgar. How else, except through Mr, Harper’s confidence—or yours, which is not to be thought of—could he know anything about Bleak Hollow here?” True; I hadn’t thought of that. Well, poor Harper was an odd fish, after all, full of con- tradictions and inconsistencies.” After a long silence, during which she nestled yet closer and more lovingly to her husband’s side as the dusk slowly deepened and thickened, Edna was suddenly impressed with a new and painful thought, “What is it, my love?’. he tenderly asked, pert felt her start. ** Oh, Edgar! if this man should have some secret power over you?” Another tremor and renewed bracing of the strong arm incircling her. ** Nonsense!” after a long pause, ‘* Don’t bor- row trouble, mv love,” ‘* But if he should, Edgar?” ‘* Ah, supposing the case, eh?” s* Yes.” “Well, what then?” ‘*Oh, Edgar! then, indeed, I should tremble for vou.” Why?” : ‘* Because that man would show no mercy! He would be incapable of it. You vaguely characterized him as a bloodsucker. But he is worse than that, or my intuitions are at fault, as they have never been before—a soul-snatcher! a born devil! That is what he would prove to the man so unfortunate as to find himself in his power!” Ses vehemence seemed to strike him disagree- ably. | Almost roughly, he turned her face toward him, and gazed sternly, suspiciously into her eyes through the dimness, as if he wished yet feared to read her inmost thoughts. ‘** What is all this, Edna?” he demanded. ‘Do you already suspect me of being in that villain’s power?? **No, no; God forbid!” He again embraced her, or would have done so, but that she suddenly started away, pointing off over the lawn to the driveway. ** Look, Edgar, look!” she gasped. ** It is your fate to see it, no less than mine. Your grand- father’s phantom, or his Gouble—look!” Ot 4S iS ©. - "4 g * i, a2 Ped . Las wets wi eros 4 se Sh ee & ra ae): . ‘4 ‘) eS x | | But he was already staring at the object with his very heart in his eyes. The presence was plainly enough visible, not- withstanding the twilight that seemed rather to emphasize its aspect than otherwise. An old, disagreeable, repellent man, sbabbily attired, as on the occasion of Edna’s first seeing him, and, as then, with his gripsack and queer staff, as if newly from or about starting out on a journey. The figure stood at the head of the narrow path, down which Miss Raw had direct- ed Edna on the previous occasion. His face was turned toward the young couple with a half-sneering, half-deprecating expression, that _ was not wholly forbidding, P Edgar had recovered his presence of mindand was now resolute. ‘*Come, this thing has got to be explained now or never!” he muttered; and then, with his wife still clinging to his side, be sternly descend- ed from the piazza and walked straight toward ~ the figure, t, **Stand back!” called out the latter at last. ‘* What, ‘grandson, aren’t you content even — <, eis. * - _when you’ve got me under ground 1m tbe ceme- — ‘way of affording him are tery? Bah! keep the estate. Perhaps you de- | serve it. But there’s more gold at the beck of | this divining-rod than kings could store away!” He shook the wand as he spoke, and then van- ished from their view, though almost within their grasp. “Kdgar, what do you think?” asked Edna, after a long pause. ‘It was no phantom, my child—it was my grandfather in flesh and blood!” exclaimed the young man, earnestly. ‘‘I saw him before but once in my life, and then under ene a asso- ciations when I was but three years old, but bis face and form have remained indelibly fixed in my mind, That was my grandfather.” CHAPTER XIX, A WIFE’S DEVOTION, hes ‘**Or his double!” echoed Edna. z But Edgar Willard shook his head, Y ‘** Doubles, if they exist at all—which Ican- — not believe—are not real, not substantial,” said be, moodily. ‘‘They would not act, look and ~ speak in that matter-of-way.” “* But the vanishing of the—the man wasmys- — terious enough.” . ! ue * Anything could be made to seem mysterious — in this fading light.” : en ‘*True—perhaps. But the petrified remains | in the tomb?” . **T don’t know—it is very strange. Unless — my grandfather might have had a double while living, and murdered instead of himself, though — that seems preposterous, the whole thing is un-— accountable.” ‘* Well,” continued Edna, as she led the way back -to the piazza, “‘lam_ not sorry that you ns had this experience, in support of mine, ar. : f Why, my love?” and she was rejoiced to see — that be was actually beginning to recover his good spirits. / ** Because,” she replied, ‘‘I do not seehowmy — father’s incredulity can hold out against your — testimony, united with mine.” \ ‘* Ah, your father! how I wish he were here — now!” and something of the young man’s — troubled moodiness seemed to return. Ti Edna very wisely refrained from returning to © the subject of Captain Perez’s visit, seeing — plainly that Edgar bad even welcomed the- ghostly episode, as it might be called, in the — ief from the further — ~<. * on 1 ‘— a i 7 ‘ a? . ) > { 4 discussion of that. _ << But she, none the less, passed a bad night with — turning the possibilities of the matter overin — her mind, and her husband’s manner on the — following day was not such as to reassure her. — He seemed gloomily preoccupied and dis-— vey A Breakfast was no sooner disposed of than he © began to pace the floors, with frequent consul tations of the time, and an occasionally mutter- ed wish that Mr. Gray would make his appear-— ance. if He forgot to visit his stables, kennels and poultry houses, as was bis wont, and seemed but too plainly engrossed with a nervous hope for his father-in-law’s return to precede the threat-— ened one on the part of the sinister stranger | from abroad. . ie At last he even sent Patrick to telegraph for the reason of Mr. Gray’s delay, and urging him to hasten back to the manse, Yo But it was not to be, . At ten o’clock Edna, who had been hardly | less nervously on the watch, came to announce Sy the unsavory visitor was approaching the © ouse, . vars Edgar shot but one searching glance toward > the figure that was sauntering up the avenue, — and then seemed to (brace himself as if fora momentous ordeal. | es ‘Edna, my love,” said be, gravely kissi his wife, ‘‘ my interview with this man must ~ Lae Ve i ~ © wholly in secret. I would not have it interrupt- ed on »ny account, unless, perhaps—” eee “Unless what, Edgar?” Se He laughed in a fierce way. as . ness violence should be attempted, ¢ either side, we will say.” Gomic * ~ ; ‘ A oe an ‘se vie & ‘ ~~ ss “TH ne —~ = 1 = pF c | q55 nf \ ~sS Pe © boo re A