Beadle's Dime Library No. 509 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

> ag ee » his sharp, intense way. ‘‘Quick! to the road. With the brief start he has had, we may yet head him off!” And away he dashed, followed by the others, out of the cellar, and out of the house. Too late! As they reached the gate, Joseph was just bowling past in the dog-cart, bis superb horse heading to the southward at a spanking pace. ‘‘ Baffled! tricked!” were the exultant words from his sneering lips, as he flashed past, and was gone. Mayfield fairly stamped upon the ground in his rage and disappointment. Retta, the last vestige of her unnaturally sus- tained nerve leaving her at last, burstinto tears, and clung once more to Therese, who was stand- ing hke a beautiful statue, unable to know ex- actly whether to rejoice or grieve over the loss of her rival’s fortune. The Thunderbolt Detective had alone main- tained his energetic composure, as it might be called, ‘* Not a moment is to be lost!” he exclaimed. ‘‘Mr. Mayfield, escort the ladies back to Yonk- ers, while I make the best use of our equipage. The police telegraph must be put in requisition at the earliest moment. The scoundrel may save his own skin, but he shall not get off with the money. Trust me for that !” A moment later, and he was in the buggy, with the horse headed up the road, while the trio still lingered at the gate. ‘* What!” cried Mayfield: ‘‘ you will drive in the opposite direction from that taken by the fugitive?” ‘*-Yes; the fellow is tricky enough to double in his tracks,” was the reply. ‘‘ Meet me at the Yonkers Police Station.” Then his whip fell upon the animal's flank, and he was off like the wind. There was but little conversation between Mayfield and his companions during the walk back to Yonkers, but, when scarcely more than half-way thither, they met several constables, on their way in a light wagon to take charge of the haunted house, together with the bodies in its cellar, which was sufficient proof as to the expedition that the detective was putting into his movements, Arriving at Mrs. Kelly’s gate, Mayfield sug- gested that Therese would do well to remam there with Henriette over night, while he should be away with the detective, But, much to his surprise, both ladies object- ed to such an arrangement, and insisted on still accompanying him, ‘‘Cher ami!” said Therese, calmly; ‘‘T have not cheated my beloved New York public of my idolized performance for two nights in succes- sion, in order to back out of a fox-bhunt when the hounds are in fullery. Make yourself easy, my dear. Thatisn’t the style of Therese Ber- trande, nee Pezgy Burkitt, and surnamed The Whirlwind of the tented arena.” ‘“T shall go too,” quietly remarked Henriette, who had now thoroughly recovered her nerve, and was quite composed, ‘‘ Now that my for- tune is taking to itself wings,” with a smile, ‘' I somehow fee] more interested in its recovery than ever before. If you will wait till I can in- form good Mrs. Kelly of my safety—for I see by the light in her room that she has returned— I will rejoin you in a moment.” Therese nodded an assent, and the young girl disappeared into the cottage while they re- mained in the moonlight at the gate. “A lovely child that, cher ami!” gravely commented La Travadeuse. : Mayfield’s sole answer was a look, half-dis- trust, half-defiance. He had come to think more highly of Therese latterly than tberetofore, but was still balf- fearful of the eccentric woman and her bold in- dependent ways. ‘What a pity, cheri, that I bave really come to love you—not only after my wild, capricious fashion, understand, but in the regular, time- old womanly and self-sacrificing way!” she went on quietly, and with a new glistening in her splendid black eyes. ‘‘ What a pity, Isay; for I can’t understand it myself. You’re not much of a man, my dear—that is, apart from your beauty. You're both weak and irresolute—just what a good man, a man that a woman ought to love, ought not to be. And yet— But you can’t help it, pauvre petit / e fact merely remains that, having come to love you, I must have you to myself, or—well, I suppose I must die!” The young man made his favorite gesture, so rapid and abrupt, and yet not without a certain sentiment and sympathy in it. “ Do not talk in that vein, Therese, I beg of you,” he said. “I believe you are a noble wo- man, though such a strange one. But you must see that I cam never love you—that my heart is not mine to give.” ae “ Peste! as if I didn’t know that it is in that yonng girl’s keeping beyond redemption. | How- ever, don’t imagine that I am going to give you up to her—unless something should occur to put the matter beyond a doubt. When I love truly, it is to the death, petit /” At this juncture Henriette’s return put an end to the conversation, ead. ee tt They set out for the police-station, it now being near midnight. ‘“Go on before, cher Harvee,” commanded Therese, preseutly. ‘The streets are so well lighted that we can follow on alone.” ay field obeyed, for by this time they were within a short distance of the station, ‘‘You love that youth, petite!” were La Travadeuse’s first words, peremptorily spoken, as soon as she was alone with Retta. The latter turned upon her with a half-angry blush, ‘‘ Madame Bertrande—” ‘Yes, yes, yes!” interrupted the other, im- ponents ‘¢ But, don’t waste time by trying to e indignant or reserved with me, belle petite He loves you and you love him, In spite of what has happened, {[sitnot the truth?” ‘I decline to discuss the subject, madame,” *¢ You shall discuss it! I say you love Harvey Mayfield, you return his love, in spite of the poor, miserable, paltry, weak, dishonest and con- temptible figure be has cut in all this business?” Retta flusbed again, and her eyes sparkled resentfully. ‘‘T will not hear Mr. Mayfield abused or un- derrated,” she exclaimed. Therese burst into a ei pa ‘*Ha! it is because you love him!” ‘What of that?” ‘‘ Eh bien! well, I merely wanted you to ad- mit it, that was all. You are possibly aware that [ love him, too.” ‘*T am aware that you say you do.” Therese turned upon her in real anger. ‘* You are like the rest of the fools!” she ex- claimed. ‘‘ You would deem me incapable of loving a man trulyand deeply, just because [am different from the restof you. You are fools, fools, fools, all of you! What! will nothing but some great, some tragic revelation open your eyes at last?” Retta was half-frightened. ‘‘T cannot understand what you mean,” she faltered. Therese laughed her strange laugh again and then, throwing her arms around the young girl, kissed her. ‘¢- You may understand me better some day,” she said, with her best charm of manner. ‘ But come, my dear. Yonder must be the police- station, where that knot of earnest men are athered, and, if I mistake not, here is our dear r, Mayfield looking for us.” CHAPTER XLIII. ON THE WINGED FORTUNE’S TRACK. “OLD FALCON will join us ina few minutes,” announced Mayfield, on coming back to the ladies, ‘‘ Let us await him here.” ‘¢ But, what bas Monsieur Vieux Faucon been doing?” demanded Therese. ‘‘Chasing the fugitive with the telegraph,” was the reply. ‘Then the entire history of the affair bas been made public?” exclaimed Retta, in a tone of the deepest regret. **'Yes, Miss Mervyn, but I am quite sure Major Falconbridge can have brought in the mention of your family connection with the affair only where it is necessary.” ‘* Ah, but, unfortunately it is altogether my family affair.” ‘*That is true.” ** And I was even born in the old house that has been the dreadful scene of nearly all of it. Everything will be revived now, and my Mer- rivale obscurity is at an end!” This was said with the genuine regret of a sensitive nature unwillingly brought into pro- nounced publicity. Mayfield had opened his eyes widely at the first sentence, which so fully simplified the painful circumstances of his first meeting with the young girl; but the appearance of Old Fal- con at this juncture, walking rapidly toward them from the group at the station door, putan end to the discussion, ‘There is some encouragement, which is bet- ter than none,” said he, softly rubbing his hands together. ‘**Monsieur Vieux Faucon,” cried Therese, ‘‘you will at once enlighten our curiosity or have our innocent deaths upon your con- science,” ‘* What little there is to say, madame,” cun- tinued the detective, ‘‘can best be told in a pretty refreshment saloon that 1 notice to be still open over the way.” After the party had installed themselves in a private supper-room in the restaurant alluded to, with some good things before them, Old Falcon went on: ‘The case stands just thus: I have worked the telegraph for all it is worth. The fugitive, for a certainty, cannot seek a hiding-place, either by car or by bis treasure-laden dog-cart, any place within the New York City confines, without being nabbed. _“* Better than that, there is a positive clew to his identity having been already tracked, ** His turn-out has been found abandoned at the roadside near a Northern Railroad station, only eight miles south of here. ‘“‘ Better still, it was in the vicinity of Tubby Old Falcon, the Thunderbolt Detective. _—— - - 29 a a ae es eee ee ee a A a ae 72 nen ne Sa EEE nISnEISEEnEnEIEnenmmnnmnemmsen=n ene ems oan: Hook, where | happen to know he has some in- timate friends residing, who would be apt to inconvenience themselves toward helping him out of a scrape, ‘¢ Even better than. that, it is almost certain that he must have taken a train at or near that point, though doubtless in some additional disguise.” ‘* An up or down train?” asked Mayfield. ‘* Unfortunately, either the one or the other, since he might have availed himself of either.” ‘* What had we better do next?” **Go home and wait.” ‘* Are you in earnest?” ““Certainly, There will bea train .or Tarry- town in twenty minutes. In the mean time, you had better see Miss Mervyn to her domicile without delay. She can rejoin us at Mrs, God- love’s to-morrow. Indeed, I should advise this, since she is more nearly concerned in the recoy- org of the property than any one else.” enriette arose to go. ‘‘ What!” exclaimed Mayfield to the detective; ‘‘and you will return to Mrs, Godlove’s?” ‘*Undoubtedly. Don’t ask any questions now. I simply have a theory that we-are not yet done with Tarrytown as the scene of our sensational drama.” After Mayfield had returned from escorting Henriette to her home (during which scarcely a dozen words, and thuse but commonplaces, bad passed between them), the three made one more visit to the police-station, without securing any further information of the fugitive, and then availed themselves of an up-train for Tarry- town, It was after one o’clock when they reached Mrs. Godlove’s, but the house betrayed signs of animation that were most unusual at such an hour. Several huge trunks were piled up in tke lighted hall, and sleepy servants were moving hither and thither. An unexpected new arrival, a very wealthy invalid Mrs. Smith, bearing the best of refer- ences to the maison Godlove, and newly disem- barked from a European steamer, had put in an appearance but a few minutes previously. The best third-story accommodations ha been placed at her disposal. One of her trunks and several portmanteaus had already followed the guest to her rooms. Her French maid would follow later on. But she was now worn out, had just been made easy, and had left strict orders that she was not to be disturbed. Such was the information gathered by Ther- ese, Mayfield and the detective, after which they lost no time in separating for the night. The following day was a Sunday. Soon after breakfast Major Falconbridge made his acknowledgments to Mrs, Godlove, in the presence of Therese and Mayfield, and was in readiness to return to New York. ‘* How is the new guest, ma’m?’ he asked of the landlady. ‘* But LOOM it seems,” was the reply. ‘She has signified that she will take her meals in her rooms, until further orders, and scarcely any of | us have caught more than a mere glimpse of her. Only that Mrs, Smith is very wealthy, and came to me with the most aristocratic rec- ommendations, I would have hesitated to fur- nish accommodations on such short notice.” The detective seemed to take but little inter- est, but managed, after a significant good-by to Mayfield, to say a few words at parting with La ‘Travadeuse, ‘*T shall not quit this village at all,” quietly, ‘‘ though itis necessary that seem to do so,” ‘You surprise me, monsieur.” ‘‘Naturally. But what I wish now is for you to ask no questions, and to promise strict obe- dience to certain directions lam about to give you. ‘‘ What are monsieur’s directions?” ‘‘That you keep a constant and suspicious watch for information of the new arrival, the somewhat mysterious Mrs, Smith: that you also maintain Pein purely sisterly lookout for young Mr. May eld’s security; and tbat, upon Miss Mervyn's visit here to-day, you manage to keep: her in the house over night.” Therese had opened her eyes, but almost in- stantly took on a look of superior intelligence, and abstained from comment. ‘* Hh bien, your directions sball be followed to the letter, monsieur,” was all she said. ‘‘ Any- thing else?” ‘*'Yes.” He gave her a small silver whistle. ‘ Should anything particularly startling occur— it will most likely be at night, if at all—notify me by sounding this signal. Am I understood?” said he I should ‘Yes, monsieur,” she replied, ‘‘sofaras your — directions extend.’ ‘** That is sufficient, then.” And, with a part- ing pressure of the hand, he took his cere bustlingly, as though in haste to catch a train. There was almost none of importance at the boarding-house during the day, and Henri- ette, who had urrived in the afternoon, was easil persuaded by Therese to accept of Mrs, Godlove’s accommodations for the night, when informed that Old Falcon had expressed his desire. The arrival of the New York newspapers had. such as: (e(0) ,OO Like S com a ae ee a