Beadle's Dime Library No. 509 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

a re ° * ' Poe _ ett hy woe aot at > a 6 Old Falcon, the Thunderbolt Detective. verse of voluminous, I am informed, is being flaunted in every bar-room window and on half the bill-boards in New York.” La Travadeuse looked unaffectedly pleased. ‘““What! am I so thoroughly billed already?” she cried, clapping her hands. ‘‘ My agent has earned himself a kiss for this promptitude. Here!” She took a bundle of tickets from her pocket. ‘‘ Dear madame, you shall have a com- plimentary for my opening night at the Grand Combined European and American next week, Another for ou, Harvee. Come,” with her prettiest laugh, ‘‘you yourself sball on this special occasion escort Godlove; unless,” archly, **she should gainsay you, as is hardly possible, judging by her blushes. You have my permis- sion, cher ami, and I shall try not to be yealous. But, madame! what is the matter? Don’t you accept my complimentary?” ‘*1 do not, thanks all the same!” And Mrs. Godlove seemed to restrain with difficulty an impulse to throw the ‘complimentry’ into the woman’s, face, though she managed to merely drop it in ber lap with a significant movement of washing out a contaminating contact from her bands. ‘‘ And now that I have made my- self understood, ma’m—without unnecessary perem ptoriness, i hope—pray, when can I have your room?” The young man made a deprecatory gesture. He had irresolutely kept in his hand the ticket Therese bad given him, and, with the sober second thought of. ber indubitable connection with his secret, was beginning to think it worth while to temporize at any cost. But she had suddenly grown grave, and left no time for other than his tacit interposition, ‘* Mignon, ea tra—leave us!” sho said, sharp- ly, to the child. **Oh, maman!” , ** Return to your pastime on the lawn—don’t let me speak it again!” Then, as Mignon dis- epnenres ina series of eccentric hops, not un- like the insect that characterized her, La Trava- deuse turned with a really grand air to the mis- tress of the house: ‘‘ So madame?” The latter likewise drew herself up dignified- ly, her pretty cheeks flushing darkly, though with none of the shame-facedness that had been so brazenly imputed to them, saying, shortly: ‘I think I have expressed myself with clear- ness, Mrs, Bertrande.” SE give me plain notice to quit your ouse “* Plainly, baal ** Because | am a circus performer?” “Chiefly that, ma’m.” But with a glance around that unmistakably alluded to the private exhibition that had been interrupted. ‘Do not misunderstand me, however, ma’m,” with hy- ritical self-justification, ‘‘ as venturing to re- ect upon FORE profession, or upon yourself per- sonally, ut my guests, especially my lady guests, being of a superior class,and therefore more or less fastidious, not to say prejudiced—” The actress-adventuress interrupted her with a swift gesture and a disagreeable little laugh. ** Guests?” she echoed, disdainfully. ‘‘ My dear woman, even if you are not French, cannot you speak your own guage? Guests, indeed, with ne "apes extended at a round sum wee per ¥ ** Boarders, then, if it suits you better!” return- ed Mrs. Godlove, somewhat savagely. “That will do. Well, you demand my de- parture from your house, eh?” “Tt is well to be plain-spoken, 1 simply sha’n’t go till it suits my leisurely convenience. You understand me? It pleases me to defy you, ma’m. Howell, my dear, get another light, if agp be so kind?” And lolling back into er easy-chair, Therese complacently began the rolling of a fresh cigarette. Mrs, Godlove stared, and then quickly assum- ed her most resolute look, ** You will find, madam, that I am not to be successfully defied in my own house.” She was coldly hurrying away. 3° What a pity!” observed the latter half to erself, “What isit thatisa pity, ma’m?’ exclaimed the widow, angrily. “That you and [ should fall out over an ex- ceedingly bandsome oung friend, here,” con- tinued the other, coolly. ‘For of course that will be the talk among your superior guests, as you call them; or, if it isn’t of ther own volition, I shall assuredly make it so. Fie, Godlove, fie! And when I have already set the seal of my preference upon the charming fellow, too—to say nothing of your age!” Mrs, Godlove’s face became as positively de- mewne as was consistent with her undeniable, somewhat comeliness, for that she affected the young man, if not altogether con- sumedly, at least’ with something more than. motherliness, was an open secret throughout the household, While Mayfield, on his part, turned red and white by turns, and was cer- tainly more embarrassed and uncomfortable than ever before in his life. The former fairly crimsoned, and then upon her tormentor in a white wrath. 2h ** Woman!” she hoarsely exclaimed; ‘t your effrontery would be beneath contempt, were it not insulting. At least, [can command you here. This is not your room; retire from it this instant!” Therese burst into her rippling, devil-may- carish Jaugh. ‘* Ah, but it was you that first declared war, and you bave my protocol, you dear, delicious old thing, you!” she cried, jumping up and snapping her fingers. ‘‘ Aw revoir, my life, my love, my own Harvee! Extol my trustin you, ny magnanimity. I even leave you alone with er! She merrily kissed him on both cheeks and the lips, in spite of his unaffected efforts to escape her, and then, with a parting laugh, danced out of the room, closing the door bebind her with a bang. In spite of his confusion, which was little short of agonizing, Mayfield thought that he had never seen Mrs. Godlove so handsome, or so pathetically pretty, as in the mingled shame, embarrassment and appeal with which she turned to him. ** Oa, Mr. Mayfield, what am I to do?” she ex- claimed, piteously. ‘*‘ That dreadful woman! her insinuations! her absurdities! Was ever the like of it?” Mayfield could only snatch up a newspaper, and set to fanning himself furiously. His sen- sations were alternately those of an oven and an ice-box. ‘*To think of the creature’s effrontery!” con- tinued the pretty widow, falteringly. ‘‘ Her connection of your name with mine—making rg of sentiments that should be so sacred— i He was just in time to catch her as she tot- tered and reeled, and then a half-uttered impre- cation rose from the young man’s badgered and tormented inner conscience as the plump, rotund figure of the suscentible maitresse de la maison settled in a seemingly dead faint in his inclosing arms, Mayfield was half beside himself with rage and mortification. There was no bell-rope to pull, so, still reluct- antly supporting his fair burden, he tore open the door, and bellowed down the stairways for assistance, But, even as it came in response to his sum- mons, there wasa scream of laughter from be- hind thé partition wall, as ample evidence that La Travadeuse at her pecp-hole had missed no- thing of the tableau. But she had come out victorious, for all that. Outward amiability was thereafter the order of the day between the two ladies, and Mrs, God- love prudently abstained from pressing the point as to Therese’s room being preferable to her society. CHAPTER VIII. THE CELLAR TO THE NORTH, “ A MONTH bad passed away when, late one sultry night, Harvey Mayfield slipped out of his boarding-house, with the intention of taking the late south-bound Express as far as Yonkers, in a first attempt at searching for the alleged buried treasure, . Not another word or sign in the interim had he received from Old Falcon, the detective, Therese had likewise kept considerately un- demonstrative with respect to the haunting sub- ject. That what she had commanded of his de- votion, in return for her capricious affection for him, was presumably the price demanded for her considerateness, he did not care, since he had managed to hold his own with both her and the widow, without much more than an occa- sional flare-up. The main desideratum was tbat the coast was, to all appearances, reasonably clear at last for this initial experiment in testing the reality or falsity of the felon’s legacy, as it might be called. e had reconnoitered the spot by daylight a week previous, and found an encouraging exter- nal agreement with the written directions, be- sides making certain preliminary observations that might assist his present undertaking. He carried with him a large, stout grip-sack that he ho to carry away from the desi ated spot filled to bursting with unearthed cur- rency. Harvey Mayfield was naturally a young man of noble instincts and good, average principles; but, like many another poetical temperament of extravagant desires, miserably associa with life-long repression and grinding poverty he had taken the eager first steps at the beck o a powerful but ignoble temptation, which had been swiftly followed by gigantic strides per- ditionward, until the base bewitchment at last him, body and soul, with the irre- vocable influence of a necromancer’s spell. Conscience had been stilled, the finer sensi- bilities dulled, the better angel of his nature glamoured and benumbed. He would be rich, rich, rich! Nothing else would satisfy him now, and even at the cost of honor, fair dealing, and integrity—all that he had once (and such a start- lingly short time as to almost bewilder him) held so jealously vital and dear. He had so brooded over the proe truth of the felon’s legacy that the desire to substantiate it hy ner- soual possession had become the haunting Scivui ehed ects Ge Ate Pie FO t ey mania of his life, to the exclusion of every other thought, motive, emotion and ambition. Even the cravings for woman’s = age Setar the vanities so natural and pardonable to youth, hot blood and good looks, as instanced by Therese Bertrande’s impulsive admiration, and the hand- some Mrs, Godlove’s perhaps far worthier pas- sion, had become as nothing, and shriveled asin the scorching blaze of this fatal and degrading fascination, He had become demoralized to the loathsome level of the coarse, brutish criminals, whose ill- gotten spoils he was so willing and anxious to surreptitiously enjoy. And all this unconscious- ly, as it were, which rendered the moral ruin so much the more painful. Even the detective’s pathetic story as to the real and just ownership of the money, whose filching bad destroyed one worthy life, and sent one other, a younger, fairer, and yet more innocent cne, into the ob- scurity of a nameless exile, and perhaps to sui- cide among undeserved penury and thickening misfortunes, which had at first appealed strong- ly to his sensibilities, had lapsed into the far- away meaning and dim-drawn applicableness of a hele-forzottan tale. He even found himself bringing the most transparent sophistries to bear in justification of his right to appropriate the stolen treasure, without being wholly aware that they were aught but conscientious reason- ings to the same nefarious end, In a few words, the young man had been pain- fully, lamentably metamorphosed, And the Harvey Mayfield now setting out upon this dis- honest midnight treasure-quest was about as widely different from the Harvey Mayfield im- mediately prior to the fateful meeting with the escaped convict, Jem Burkitt, but a brief month previous, at the opening of our story, as was the bideous Mr. Hyde from its dual personality of Dr, Jekyll. Arriving at Yonkers, Mayfield struck straight southward through the sleeping and silent town by the splendid, villa-lined causeway running parallel with the Hudson, until well out of the outskirsts, upon the distinctive river-road, when he continued on his way at a yet brisker and more impatient pace. It was a rather dark night, with sufficient stars, however, to render the read rather dis- tinct, after the limits of the street-lamps had been passed. The road grew steadily lonelier and the coun- try residences more widely separated as he pro- ceeded, with here and there wild-looking fields and short stretches of gloomy woodland to be traversed. But the summer air was sweet and bland, and, with the fever of anticipation in his heart, the way could scarcely be too solitary and unob- servant for our ‘‘pale wamer through the night.” vi distant church clock tolled the midnight hour as at last, after a swift two-mile tramp, he came to a panse before the neglected grounds of the deserted cottago that was his destination. After a precautionary glance in every direc- ticn, he pushed through tbe gate, produced a dark-lantern from his grip-sack, wbich he forth- with lighted, and then proceeded up the weed- grown garden-path, under the neglected orchard trees, with his eyes fixed when possible upon the cottage. Suddenly he hesitated, started and paused. Was not that a twinkle of lamp-light from one of the attic-windows? No; it was doubtless but a freak of his overwrought fancy; for see! all is dark, somber, ee and unchanged. There could be no one beforehand with him, in respect to the alleged treasure; and as for ghosts, he recalled the uncanny reputation of the place with a smile that had nothing of brag- gadocio in it. The only phantoms that Harvey Mayfield cared a snap for were such golden ones as he hoped to materialize in short order. For the rest, divinity student as he bad once thought to be—how immensely long ago that virtuous period of his aspirations, though scarcely more than thirty days in reality! He bad come to look back on it as something antiquated beyond realization, something like the ruims of Baby- lon or the site of ancient Troy—there was ‘not a particle of superstition in’ his strong, healthy and selfish nature. ; His preliminary visit to the place, which had also included a hasty exploration of the cottage interior, now enabled bim to proceed with con- siderable certainty and assurance. He first went to a rickety tool-house, where he secured a pickax and spade, both rusty and retty well used up, but such as would doubt- ae more than outlast his purpose. He then entered the bouse by a rear kitchen- door, the mveety of whose simple lock he had already mastered. The cottage was more than half-furnished, though everything was in a sad state of neglect and decay. . Tables and chairs were in moldering keeping with the ceiling and walls, from which in many laces the plaster had tumbled away, letting the lathing stare and grin out from underneat in a decidedly skeletonian and unpleasant man- ner, as the bull’s-eve ef the intruder flashed and shifted fitfully bither aud t..ither, EOmicboo