Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 574 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

— meta ema | s Yel from the ari - ’ TY 4A ABS ee 0 (Lie DI A. 2S ed TT. Ol , 4? * * : “> * "aE = = " o &: ; g i. alcon’s Double. oe AS eee my af a Bet? 8b ti ~ . 21 relieved, though he continued to regard her with a lingering suspicion. ‘‘T am glad of that—if it is true,” he re- lied, in such poor French as a Spaniard or Ftalian new to the language might use. ‘Tt is*true,” exclaimed the pretended Fal- conbridge, earnestly. ‘‘ I assure you of it.” ‘* Still, you are a detective?” “ Yes—but an American detective.” ‘Oh, that is a different matter!” in much better English than his French, though still with a foreign tinge. A sudden thought came to Eleanor like a revelation—as, indeed, it was. “Look here, my friend,” she said, also in English, ‘‘I have an idea, Tell me first—I swear that you can safely trust me!—if you have reason to shun the Parisian detectives.’ ‘* T should say [| nad,” with a peculiar smile. “ Well, you must be the fugitive they were af- ter when, mistaking him for you, they took the man I am after into custody at the Havre Railway Station a few days ago, though they discovered their mistake and let him off after a brief examination—unluckily for me.” ‘Tt is true; I got wind of that little incident later on.” And now, apparently altogether reassured, the man nonchalantly sea himself at the turfy foot of a gnarled old tree, Not to ve outdone, Eleanor carelessly seated herself at his side, though with her brain al- ready busy with a project for utilizing this chance acquaintanes so oddly brought about. ‘‘ Tf you will help me,” she observed, ‘‘I will help you. What do you say?” ‘“T am afraid you couldn’t help me much,” the man slowly answered, ** Don’t be too sure of that. I am not wholly what I seem, or what I declared myself to be. Iam rich and can have large influence at my command. But, as a preliminary, it will be necessary that you should repose the fullest con- fidence in me,” The man eyed his companion steadily, and seemed to deliberate, ‘* So be it,” said he at last, ‘‘ You inspire me with confidence. I shall trust in you.” ** Come; this is a brave beginning.” ‘* Ask me what you please; I shall be frank and veracious.” “Tll take you at your word, What is your name?” ** Joseph Razzio.” ** An Italian?” ** A Corsican.” ‘* But you are last from Barcelona?” ‘True; where that for which they would ar- rest me—on extradition, you understand—was committed.” Eleanor hesitated with the next question on the tip of her tongue. ** 1 shall not spare you.” ** Go ahead!” ** Ape you wanted for a robbery ‘“* For neither,” indifferently. ‘* derer.” It was said as unconcernedly as if he had an- nounced himself a chicken-thief. Eleanor experienced a violent, almost a shud- dering shock; but something in the man had won upon her, and by a great effort of will she maintained her seat at Joseph Razzio’s side, without even a shrinking manifestation. ‘* A grave self charge, sir!” was all she said, “Tt is a short story,” continued the other, thoughtfully. ‘* Look you! By vocation, I am a sailor, with all the recklessness engendered | an adventurous and roving life. By nation- ality, [am a Corsican, with the revengeful in- stincts of my race, and, as a matter of course, with my vendetta. What true Corsican is with- out that? As well imagine a horse without hoofs, a fish devoid of fins, an eagle forgétful of her eyrie and her famishing brood! ‘ Seeing the shore sights at Barcelona, I saw or assault?” I am a mur- a gallant officer of the Royal Guards passing. the wine-shop in which J was sitting alone, an my heart, after first standing still, gave a great joyous bound. Comrade, I recognized that man. e was a Valletto!” ** Of a family so named?” Razzio nodded, “Of course; the one with which the Raz- zios have had their vendetta for nine hundred years,” “ Time enough to forget all about the original quarrel, one would think,” ‘* Friend, in the vendetta a true Corsican never forgets!” ‘* Nor forgives, either, 1 suppose?” ‘‘ Forgive—an hereditary enemy?’ in blank amazement. ‘* What for?’ **Oh, well; proceed, Joseph.” ‘* Now I might give you a history of the quar- Pte Itisarare tale; and what with the hundreds of retaliatory assassin- ations on either side—” “ ‘* There won't be time, Mr. Razzio; and I really think I can forego the promised horrors, however pleasing. Let us get back to Barce- lona.” . ** Ah, then! Well, no sooner did I ze my Spanish lieutenant of the Royal Guard as Lucien Valletto, formerly of Ajaccio, than I says to myself: ‘ Here’s angel’s own luck for y, e° ue nf > 36 os < a me! He is the last of the Vallettos: I am the | last of the Razzios. And by the count, the Val- lettos are just one life ahead of the Razzios in the vendetta.’ Understand?” ** T think so,” ** Ah; it wasa godsend! You see, the thing was perfectly square when Lucien’s older brother ambushed and slew my only brother; I being a mere boy at the time, and Lucien little more thanachild. That left the Vallettos one ahead on the score, you see,” CHAPTER XXXY, THE CORSICAN. ELEANOR nodded, her curiosity in her strange companion having deepened as her sense of re- pugnance had increased. * But that wasn’t the worst of it,” the Cor- sican resumed. ‘* Boy as I was, I might soon have evened up the score most conscientiously, for there would have been numerous chances of shooting the elder Valletto down from behind a bush or ledge, while he should be on his way to confession, or to visit his girl. But, Corpo di Bacchio! think of my adversity, comrade. Be- fore I could get at him, he fell over a precipice and broke bis neck!” ** Ts it possible?” In spite of her horror, Eleanor could not ab- stain from the irony, there was such a ghastly ludicrousness in the man’s earnestness. “ God’s truth! I could bave dashed my own brains out, over my unmerited misfortune, but for one thing—the lusty babe, the little Lucien, crowing and kicking up bis fat legs in the Signorina Valletto’s arms—now the last of his race, as I had become the last of mine, ‘ Cour- age, sad heart!’ I said to myself; ‘ he will grow, the little Lucien, he will become a man, And, after I shall have killed him, the score of the vendetta will not only be squared, but the Raz- zios will be irrevocably triumphant, for the first time in nine hundred years, for I shall still be left to represent my ancient race, while the Val- lettos will be extinct, annibilated, wiped out, abolished!’ Ha, ha, ha! Think of it!” ‘*T am thinking of it.” And Eleanor looked at the speaker yet more curiously. ‘€ My sole consolation, you understand. God’s love! if anything serious chanced to the infant, I was beside myself with apprehension, lest Providence should cheat me out of my revenge. When the brat bad the measles, I passed hours in daily prayer that he ene be spared. Even his little bike is, Bath led me with appre- hensions. And when he had the scarlet fever, I was that worried and anxious that I lost flesh, until little more than a skeleton, ‘‘ However, the Saints be praised! he lived! Then I went to sea, thinking fondly of how much grown I should find the darling enemy on my return. ‘** But who can foretell the caprices of the fell jade, Fate? I went with the intention of being away twenty months; I was gone twenty years! Too long a ving & that—shipwreck, years ona desert island of the South Pacific, a captive of Malay pirates, a soldier in Persia, a hunter in the Brazils, a beachcomber on the Coromandel Coast—all were in my experience! I was the football of Fate, never knowing when she would be wearied of sporting with me, if ever at all. ‘* Home in old Corsica at last, though! And what to find? Misery and despair—my bright- est hopes, my holiest aspirations, blighted, ap- parently forever! Lucien Valletto had attained to manhood and disappeared, none knew whith- er. The widow, his mother, was dead, but it had been in response to her dying prayers that he had taken himself off unto the nnknown—to elude my just vengeance, mind you! **God of Justice! I was in despair—it was simply terrible. Now think, comrade, I went to sea again, and carried about with me that load at my heart for five years longer—and for what? To find my man in Barcelona a month ago,as I have said. God was gaodto me at last, though pretty long about it, vou might Vy. “How I hurried after my lieutenant, tapped him on the shoulder, and made myself known. ‘It shall be face to face!’ I eried, embracing him. ‘Whereshallit be? ~°- ‘* Now, Lucien acted very creditably—for a Valletto; or I thought so at thetime. He chided himself for my long sufferings, and cursed the hour when he had listened to his mother’s insist- ence upon his taking to flight. He took me out in the middle of the Plaza, and pointed to an open glade on the distant mountain-side. ‘ Let it be there at sunset, and with pistols, my dear Joseph,’ he said, returning my caress. ‘It is there that I shall have the joy of killing you.’ I smiled, and we parted. ‘** At sunset I was entering the glade, when a shot pierced my tarpaulin. I turned in a flash, The coward was there, with two of his fellow- officers, He had shot at me from behind, and was leveling his revolver for a better aim, As if Heaven would permit a last Valletto to elude a last Razzio’s vengeance by such treachery! ‘« My first bullet staggered him before he could fire again, and then ompeying my revolver into his prone body, I fell upon him with my knife and cut him to pieces, : ** The vendetta was ended, the centuries were grow entirely over his face in \ 1 P Ad . 4 re! a — bg ‘ % - wat a ete % - o F y ) a tad | ; Rey. + Pe ee vy. 5 | | appeased; a Razzio still lived, the Vallettos were no more. ‘* But the officers, who bad comraded the cow- ard, had fled from me as from a wild beast. The alarm had been given, and I approached the city to find myself everwhere in quest as an assassin. I fled deeper into the mountains, Well, that is all, comrade. I was there, and I am here, still uncaptured. Now you have the situation.” The duel episode, or rather denouement, had put a somewhat different face upon the man’s crime in the mind of his listener. ‘‘Hark you, Razzio,” said Eleanor, after a long pause, ‘‘ There were two witnesses to Val- letto’s treacherous first attack upon you?” ‘“* Exactly as I have said,” , ‘* Would they testify impartially?’ ‘Probably; they are Spanish gentlemen of education.” ‘‘Be easy then; I shall get you off eventu- liy.” What! you will do that?” ‘“*T am sure of it. Butin the mean time, you must avoid arrest, if possible.” ‘*' Trust me for that. And what shall I do for you in return?” ‘*Help me to catch my man, who resembles you sogreatly. His nameis John Burley, other- wise Juan Borleo—a West indian.” ‘** Ts it for murder?” hesitatingly. ‘* No; he is a dastardly robber and perjurer.” “ Say no more; I shall help you.” ‘* That is well,’ ‘What is your name?” ‘* Falconbridge,” reluctantly. ‘* And vour address?” She gave it to him. ‘‘Good! Since you trust me,I trust you. Adios, comrade. e shall meet again before long.” The Corsican then abruptly walked on into the wood and disappeared. Eleanor remained staring after him for some moments, asif realizing only with some difficulty > that the entire adventure was not a dream. CHAPTER XXXVI. A SIDE ISSUE. As it was still early in the morning, it sud- denly occurred to Eleanor that she ought to visit the Grande Hotel to see how her aunt and Florine were enjoying themselves, She bad not seen them since the separation upon their first arrival in Paris. Colonel Sherwood was not to be found, being ee! for the races, but both the women were at ome. To Eleanor’s surprise and amusement, ‘ they did not speak as they passed by,’ and she was ot long in discovering the cause to be of an affair of the heart, Florine wore a magnificent Jacqueminot rose in her sunny hair and a yellow Marsbal Neil one at her breast, both of which she unblushingly declared to have been given her by Captain Tidewell on tine preceding evening: while Miss Jerusha had in some way got hold of a carte de visite photograph of the same gallant mariner, which she had no hesitation in exhibiting to the pseudo-detective as a convincing proof of the yacht-master’s unqualified devotion to her maturer charms. ‘*Ha!” she exclaimed, with an effort at com- miserating amusement, to Eleanor, apart; ‘‘ the gentleman gave her an entire bouquet, as a mat- ter of unmmeaning courtesy, when fairly bullied into taking her to the opera (for the brazen man’s bead,) and she has merely selected two specimens from the bunch. While, as for myself, my dear Eleanor, I am sure that Con- rad has altogether too profound a devotion, too lofty a regard, to think of expressing himself in such an inane and commonplace manner. Examine his photo more critically, my dear girl, The expression is a trifle stern, perbaps, but ”—and so on, ‘** Dear ma’m’selle,” Florine rattled away when obtaining her opportunity, “tif you could see ou would crack your corset-bones He showed us both the phcto- graph one evening, having brought it at my resence, with laughter. request, and then it was mysteriously missing— not to be found anywhere. Ha, ha, ha! you can guess the rest. Do you remark my pret flowers? Yonder in the little vase (monsicur’s gift to me also) is the entire bouquet. And you should have seen the look in his divine dark eyes when he selected these two roses from their midst for me to wear. Not wishing to risk meeting the gallant cap- tainin her detective aspect, Eleanor snéelily brought her visit to a close, after leaving her love for her father, On meeting with her husband and Hugh Spender in the Rue de Bandeur that evening, veloped a strange complication, In the morning, at about the same time that Eleanor was having her interview with the Corsican, Howland had caught sight of Burley * niebooks * ’ 5 oY how the poor old petrifaction acts in monsieur’s. 3 A [yA hussy does notbing but throw herself at the oo. those — their interchange of experiences for the day de- (he was positive there could no mistake) in the Champs d’Elyssee. He had let his beard away that alter- Ge } i } ®