Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 574 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

vd / 5 el A a I ‘Pe ,*s but mss How?” ’ a's : 1 fee 2 * ot Tet ; . i ~ : ’ ps tah ‘ * r SMSO rm ee. Rea eh = eer ~ “ ‘ P ~*~ » a - a - - e . ’ < . Old Falcon’s Double. , . ~. — : * ° P ” ; = 23 suppose a failure,” cried Eleanor. ‘I trust in my Corsican. But come, messieurs, It is no trifling distance from the Montmarte to the Bois de Boulogne, and twilight is not far away.” On reaching the further side of the Bois, the first dusk of evening was just beginning to thicken among the trees, They waited until the lingering light became a little more uncertain, and then cautiously ap- | ures of art, are not ordinarily thronged with visitors before mid-day. When Eleanor entered, there were few going in or coming out, and in several of the rooms she strolled through, their were scarcely any visitors on view, while others were empty. At last, however, she saw the Countess d’Espigneau, whom she just knew by sight, ascending the main stair-case, and she from that momént kept her in view as closely as Was possi- proached the spot where Eleanor and Razzio had | ble without betraying her curiosity. last conversed, on the constant lookout for spies, but the wood and adjoining boulevard seemed alike solitary and deserted, At last they came in sight of the rustic bench which was seen to be occupied by a single fig- ure, ‘‘T& is Razzio,” said Eleanor, in a low voice. ‘‘We must be patient. Burley has evidently not joined him yet, and he is waiting.’ They continued to keep close and wait, though the figure on the bench, which was perfectly motionless, made not the slightest change in its expectant attitude, n the mean time, the dusk had deepened con- siderably. ‘““Maybe the scoundrel has decided_not to keep his appointment,” murmured, Eleanor, ‘*Come; I will lead the way, and have word with the Corsican, as to what he may think of the delay.” They noiselessly approached the rustic seat, - Eleanor slightly in the advance. Razzio half-reclined in one corner of the bench, his head thrown back, asif he might be a leep. But something in the man’s attitude struck Lleanor as not natural. She sprung forward, gave one look, and then shrunk back with a low, horrified cry that - ahaa her companions on the spot with a rush. The ‘' little secretary ” had doubtless spied to better ac vantage than had been thought, At all events the Corsican was neither waiting nor sleeping, and the fierce race of the Razzios, no less than that of the Valetto, was forever- more extinct. . He was stone-dead, with a huge stiletto— peony: John Burley’s—buried to the hilt in his eart. As this tragic discovery was made, a low, diabolical laugh came from somewhere in the darkening wood, They started and laid their hands on their re- volvers, for the.utterance was manifestly fa- miliar to them all. But nothing was to be seen, and the laugh was not repeated, CHAPTER XXXIX. AN UNEXPECTED APPARITION. A WEEK had passed, the murdered Corsican was in his grave (whither he had been decently unobtrusively laid at Eleanor’s instance and expense), the police bad about given up the hope of discovering his assassin, and further signs of the cunning fugitive, John Burley, otherwise Juan Borleo, were as absent as though he bad ceased to exist. 4 The trio of searchers, while’ keeping their se- cret of the dead, had Pedro but unsuc- cessfully, continued their divided quest, until there to few Pe age Sec Paris one had es- ca and even Eleanor an to despair. Rew e must find some means of obtaining an entrance to the hotel of the countess, if not into ber confidence,” she last exclaimed, with something of her old’ energy, when the sixth day of uninterrup non-success was gone. “There is no other way, and I simply will not give up. The question is, how can this best be attempted?” ~ “Tam surel can’t make the ghost of a sug- gestion,” Howland answered, on his part, ‘TI am so wearied of the whole thing that i seem to have no fancy or suggestiveness left.” ‘“*T have never even had a good look at the _ ‘woman yet,” Eleanor continued, reflectively. “But you can obtain that any day, Cousin Nell,” said Hugh Spender. eagerly. “She seems to be taken with a fondness for art of late. I have twice seen her going into the Louvre since the new collection of paintings from the last salon has been on view there, and I have no doubt that she briefly visits the place every day.” * At what hour?” - Ip the morning—at about eleven, I should say.’ if A hint is as good asa word, Messieursmes collaboratewrs, there shall be a new departure. Accordingly, on the . following morning, Eleanor got herself up with extra care in the way of her make-up, for which a new and fash- ionable summer rig was forthcoming, and be- took herself to the Louvre. _ Satisfied that by this time Burley, if still in in Paris, must be perfectly aware of the quest for him that was on foot, with the areaded | “Falconbridge” at its head, she no longer ex- | : J ¢ ee ay" z . i” eae “ae ercised any caution in exploiting the character, The vasts salons of the Louvre, with'their treas- , , d | a i : . aaa : ae ' ° 7 A fet “ aT hig’ ' ei ‘oe ee - | SS SS ee a a ee Madame @’Espigneau was a large stout wo- man, superbly dressed. Her florid face and large figure might have been attractive in her youth but were no longer so in Eleanor’s opinion | (which, however, was one woman’s of another, it must be remembered), while there was a sensual, half-cruel suggestion in her lips and her still fine eyes, which spoilt the effects of a face that might otherwise have been pleasing. She led by a blue ribbon a fat little pug dog, whose collar was inlaid by gold, and and was accompanied by two attendants. These were the *‘ little secretary,” whom the countess famil- iarly addressed as ‘‘ Louis,” and an elderly di3- creet-looking man who seemed a fine type of the true French valet, or serving man, of the old regime--attentive, obsequious, vigilant. This man she only occasionally spoke to, and then ad- dressed him as Felix. The countess seemed to be an indefatigable talker, She roamed from picture to picture, apparently examining each critically through the gold-rimmed pince-nez that was almost con- stautly in requisition in the dainty pinch of her plump, gloved hand, but not for a minute ata time did she neglect to pour forth her chatter to the devoted and perhaps to-be-comiserated Louis in a steady stream. ‘All for effect!” was Eleanor’s secret com- ment at last. ‘*A little Catherine II, at heart, she is a little Machiavelli by nature—cold, cun- ning, reckless, uyscrupulous!” Then she instinctively fell to examining the attendants to the exclusion of the mistress. She was at first struck by a look of vague un- rest, almost of a haunting horror, underneath the external complacency of the smaller and ounger man’s demeanor. And it was not long bekare she was convinced that this singular under-look, or masked uneasiness, was reflected, though in a less marked degree, by the face of the valet, Felix. . It was as if they might be but recently from some tragic spectacle, which had photographed itself indelibly upon their consciousness, Suddenly this thought flashed upon the detec- tive’s double: ‘“ Those men were witnesses of the assassina- tion of Joseph Razzio !” At this juncture Madame la Comtesse took into her head that she must go, and Eleanor was left alone in the great salon at the upper end of the eastern suite, , She hesitated whether to stroll after her or not, though conscious that she must have taken note of her presence, though seeimng to ignore it. At last, however, she turned to quit the de- serted salon. As she did go, she thought for an instant that the door must be a mirror that was reflecting oe disguised personality. ol . She rubbed her eyes, and looked again. It was no reflection, but a reality. There, pine ja 3 her in, the doorway, his face no less puzzled than her own, was her exact image, saving only a few slight differences of ress. Then the truth, long imagined, now for the first time realized, rushed upon her. She wasat last face to face with her prototy pe, with the man whom she had so long been coun- terfeiting—Falconbridge, the Falcon Detective, himself. She had only half recovered her composure when the man, his face clearing off with a rgb half-stern expression, advanced to meet er. ** Who are you?” he quickly demanded, ‘““The—the Falcon Detective’s Double,” was the stammered reply. He burst into a short laugh, not altogether a displeased one. | ** Well—I—should—say—so!” he slowly drawl- ed out. Then, after eying her attentively with his piercing eyes, during which she recovered the remainder of her self-possession, he asked, with his accustomed abruptness: ‘* Man or woman? vA woman” | ome with me, my—Double: you and I must have an ex leviation” He led the way into a large, cool, deserted alcove, and signed her to a seat, while appro- priating one for himself, ‘You prohably have something of a story,” he said, curtly. ‘‘ Let me have it.” Eleanor was eager enough to obey, as being the only rescue from her secret embarrassment, which was momentarily growing more painful. In an hour’s time’she had given him the entire history of her assumption of his in- dividuality, and everything connected with it, Bn UE a 5 - ' "24 i * , rn b Pas : eel) - oh a “ga Whe S ‘ _- + ins * tt eee a as 9 : . 1% a" wd © Fotis ae ay"; = we mG? ; . ’ ‘a iy Pa His interest had deepened as she proceeded ; at times it might be said to be not unmixed with approval, not to say admiration. When she finished he burst into a low, rippling little laugh, such as self-contained, secretive men often have, and all the more musical for its presumptive rarity. ‘“Look you, Mrs, Howland,” said he, ‘I am not so displeased, after all, at having been duplicated so admirably and by such a clever woman,” “Thank you, sir,” and she slightly lowered her abashed eyes. ‘‘T might help you out in this sleuth-chase, too, for that matter.” ‘Oh! migbt you and would you?” ‘*T’ll see about it. And that was the countess who had just quitted the salon before I entered it—to paralyze you, so to speak?” “é Yes.” ‘A dangerous woman! And I noted the two retainers, likewise. My dear Double, you were not out of the way in your analysis? It is sible that those men may be the witnesses to bring your Creole rogue to the guillotine.” “The guillotine?” ‘‘ Yes: dismiss your pet scheme of New York State Prison for him, These Frenchmen will have his head,” CHAPTER XL. THE REAL FALCONBRIDGE. ‘‘ SomEenHow I never thought of John Burley meeting such a fate,” said Eleanor, after a long pause. ‘‘ As he had probably never thought of com- mitting a deliberate murder until recently,” re- plied the real detective, gravely. ‘‘ But look here, I know something of the queer household of Madame la Countesse d’Espigneau, and you don’t.” ‘*T am really glad you do.” ‘““Yes,.” reflectively. ‘‘She is doubtless a murderess on her own part—was strongly sus- pected, and with reason, of poisoning her bhus- band ten or twelve years ago, but somehow it never came to anything. You think this Burley is still under her protection?” ‘¢] haven’t a doubt of it; though whetber still in Paris or not I haven’t an idea.” ‘*That must be determined shortly. Bat, with all your cleverness, you could never have made your way into the woman’s secrets. I can, though too lazy to do so in my own person, And I will undertake the task for you, if you say so,” i Do I? joyfully. ‘To whom could or should a double more consistently surrender its plot than to its prototype. Besides, I am heartily sick of this long deception.” **Don’t be too sure, though,” with his win- | ning smile, ‘‘that I'll let you out of it in short order, So fresh a sensation doesn’t occur every day in my life, and | am newly arrived from the sweat, the toil, the desert dust and the fur- nace-heats of the Orient,” ‘*T do hope, sir, that your arduous mission there was successful!” ‘‘Entirely so, thanks!” indifferently. ‘* Got my man and most of his swag at last, and he is now on the ocean, State-prisonward bound un- der a competent guard, But let us wait patient- ly a few minutes longer. I am expecting some one looking for me here.” | A few minutes later his valuable little assist- ant, Tommy Dodd—short-baired as a Zouave and sunburned to tan-color, but otherwise the wise little, old-young, irrepressible, dramatic, self-assertive Tommy Dodd of old—put in an appearance, e gave a slight start at perceiving his dis- tinguished master so oddly, or rather so dupli- catingly, companioned, but at once resumed — bis easy-going notbing-could-surprise me air. ‘Tommy. my man,” said the Faleon Detec- tive, ‘‘there’s a little job that will be amuse- ment for you. d’Espigneau pointed ont to you?” ot “ 'Tis true and pity ‘tis tis true, my liege,” was the deep-voiced, stagey response, | ‘Rig yourseif upin a fitting manner toa for a place asa page, tiger, or something of the sort, at ber hotel, 423 Rue de Helder, on sod a ‘ You have had the Countess teas . ‘ f > = >» Te - + i <A notice, 1 will give you fullerinstructions this evening. That is all.” Tommy laid his hand on his beart, bowed Pree s slowly turned with a stagey strut, and then vanished with the celerity of a touched-off rocket. ‘“ What a dear, funny little man!” exclaimed - Eleanor, smiling. “He is a character. : thing entirely gs a Mane Fone’? you know— for the present. Mv dear Double, will ycu do me the honor of taking lunch with me at Cafe Anglais?” — ! Eleanor hesitated, ©] know that our a sensation,” he add ning smiles. ‘* But with another of his win- of i mise me something in return.” 1 What is it?” wR “To accompany me home afterwar¢ Tht > bole Bs AS : ¥.". . %" > But let us think of some- appearance there will make at is what I want just now, a d you may extract some amusement out — oer | t. 3 | Me ge **T will, and gladly,” she replied, “if you will Bf mS nm, Fe : 5 VA a —! " | y = . (— ~ a . \ == a | S Ri 2 « a a os * ai