Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 574 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

propose,” replied the lawyer, simply. ‘* Only don’t think of planuing a jail-breaking for How- land, as it is out of the question.” ‘¢T am not thinking of anything of the sort. Ha will go to State Prison, but he will go there as my husband! I wish to be married to him in his city prison cell to-night. The ceremony must be secret. 1 trust you to manage the affair.” Spender looked at her in amazement, but she went on to explain her position and determina- tion, without giving bim 1» clance to interpose a remark. ‘‘Here is the situation, Cousin Hugh, You know Charles Howland to be innocent, no less than I?” ‘* Td take my oath to it fifty times over!” ** And you doubtless likewise believe bim the victim of John Burley’s plotting hatred.” “Yes, [ do!” ‘Perhaps you are not aware that Charles Howland and I were betrothed a short time before this blow fell upon him?” ‘‘T have suspected it, especially since his peech in court this morning.” **Good! My father wishes me to marry that villain, John Burley.” 6 What?” ** Wait! He has not yet ventured to tell me so in as many words, but he gave me a hint im that direction to-day. Burley has in some way got my father in his power, or my father chooses to think so, and my father is both vain and weak.” **T should say so,” dryly. ‘* T would rescue him from his own weakness, no less than myself. My secret marriage to Charles Howland, which I can declare at any time in my own protection, will accomplish this, Besides being a lawyer of prominence, you are a politician of influence, I am abso- lutely resolved in this matter, and you know enough of me to know what that means with me. The only difficulty will be to induce Charles to accept my proposition, under the circumstances, This you must overcome, In fact, I rely upon you to manage the whole affair for me with the requisite secrecy. Papa dines at his club, and, after his custom, will not be home till late. The affair will take place this evening. My maid, Florine, will accompany me as one witness, You must provide another of your own sex, together with the officiating clergyman, Shall I depend on you?” Lawyer Hugh Spender rose, and paced the room, his mind in a momentary whirl. With any other young woman of his esteemed ac- quaintance, he would have argued against the projected step as a species of sentimental mad- ness; with Eleanor Sherwood be knew that this would be a waste of breath, and, moreover, in view of his belief in Howland’s probity and victimization, he could not but admire the in- vincibleness of her devotion to the man of her heart. ‘Yes, you may,” he at length replied. ‘Be in readiness when I call for you at seven o’clock this evening, But there is much to do, and scant time for me to do it in.” He consulted his watch. ‘‘I must be off.” ‘Thank you, Cousin Hugh, You shall find me in readiness,” She gave him her hand, and he hurried away. CHAPTER IIL. A STRANGE MARRIAGE, THE time of the year was June, the month of roses, when in fine weather the twiligbt lingers long and late, and it chanced to be fine now. At about half-past seven o’clock of the even- ing of that eventful day, Charles Howland sat in his Tombs rrison-cell, a prey to such conflict- ing emotions as he had never before con- ceived as possible in his existence, Half an hour previously his lawyer had quit- ted him, after explaining Nelly Sherwood’s pro- postion, and extorting his consent to it. Should e bave permitted this sacrifice, this tremendous devotion on the part of the girl he Joved to dis- traction? Or was it, in reality, a sacrifice? Knowing his own innocence, as he did, was it any more than sentimentally fair that he sbould accept this noble proof of her confidence in his truth and honor, notwithstanding the prison walls immuring him, the dishonoring sentence that was staring him remorsslessly in the face? Then there was her laudable desire to abso- ‘lutely baffle the presumed expectations of his accursed enemy’s cowardly plottings on the spot, and place herself irrevocably beyond the villain’s hopes, no less than beyond whatever importunities her father’s weakness might ulti- “arbi prompt him to make in the plotter’s be- However, sacrifice or no sacrifice, his accept- ~ oy of it had been obtained, and there was an end. The cell he occupied was comparatively large and luxurious in its furnishings, just as it had been left, in fact, by a rich and powerful con- nected defaulter who had last occupied it. The earlier twilight was still lingering agree- ably throughout the strong room, when ateps in the stone-paved corridor aroused its inmate. } . — P . Old Falcon’s Double. They paused before his grating, and a key was heard being inserted in the lock, As Howland arose, the door opened, and Spender entered the cell, accompanied by | Eleanor, who collectedly stepped up to her lover and took his hand, speaking a few reas- suring words with a slight tremor, as sole evi- dence of the agonized effort with which she con- trolled the agitation natura] to the occasion. Tuey were followed by a clerical looking gen- tleman, whom Howland recognized as a popu- lar minister, by a well-dressed, discreet-appear- ing man, wtom the lawyer briefly introduced as his friend Mr, Thompson, and by Florine, who greeted the prisoner, with whom she was well- acquainted, with a swift, interested look, while at the same time preserving much modesty of demeanor. When the party were all within the cell, which they came very near to filling completely, the voice of the turnkey without was heard to say, in a low tone, ‘‘ Remember, Mr. Spender, twenty minutes and no longer.” Then the door closed again, and was locked behind them, Howland, nothwithstanding he had ferventl responded to the pressure of bis sweetheart’s soft, ungloved hand, had continued to view the whole affair with a species of bewilderment, not tosay stupor. Then, as if to arouse himself, he turned to Spender, with a pitiful balf-smile under his blonde mustache. . ‘** All this must be oddly opposed to the prison regulations,” was all he could think to say. ‘* How on earth have you managed it?” ‘* Never mind as to that,” was the brisk re- ply. ‘‘It was difficult work, I can tell you. But, time is precious Mr, ——,” to the minister, ‘‘ everything is in readiness, I believe.” Tue clergyman was also a man of ready wit, who had been primed for the exigencies of the ovcasion. He bade the pair stand before him, the ac- customed marriage rite was performed, without even omitting the putting on of the weddin ring, which the lawyer’s thoughtfulness had rovided, and Charles Howland and Eleanor Sherwood were pronounced man and wife. Pen and ink were then forthcoming, the clergyman seated himself at a little table and made out the marriage-certificate, which was duly signed by Thompson and Florine as wit- nesses, The document was banded to the bride, who carefully slipped it into the bosom of her per- fectly fitting but inconspicuous walking-dress without a word. This completed the legality of the ceremony in every particular, no marriage license being required as indispensable by the statutes of the State of New York. Scarcely had the affair been completed when oe came a warning rap on the outside of the oor. ‘“Time’s up!” exclaimed Spender, bastily ex- changing a farewell hand-grip with the newly married prisoner, while whispering a few en- couraging words. ‘* Come, all!” With that he purposely turned his back upon the couple, and advanced toward the door, in which action he was instantly imitated by the clergyman, Florine and her fellow-witness. The married lovers embraced, and their lips clung together in the kiss that was at once their greeting and their farewell, their union and yet their temporary divorce. ‘*My love, my darling, be brave!” Howland heard the beloved voice whisper, as through the mist-wreaths of a dream; ‘‘ in less than a month you shall he free!” Then somehow his arms were empty, there was the sound of the airs Se closing of the door; he sunk into a seat by the little table, and, when he came to a realization of his sur- roundings, he was once more alone in his soli- tude, with t.8 death’s-head of that anticipated State Prison sentence grinning in his face, But its grin was less appalling as he more thoroughly realized what bad befallen him, What are prison solitude and prison disgrace to the consciousness of rectitude in the virtuous soul of their sufferer, together with the divine love and confidence of the glorious woman of on ’s heart? Others had borne in patience these wrongs even less cheered and supported than he, an tert he prove less patient and brave than thoy Besides, in addition to those encouraging last words of Eleanor’s amid the ecstasies of her bridal kiss, Hugh Spender, in exchanging that parting band-clasp with him, had whispered these words, :n that cheery, encouraging voice of his: ‘* Be of good heart, my boy! Falconbridge, the missing Falcon Detective, shall yet be found, and through his means the missing witnesses to Burley’s giving you that incriminating check be yet unearthed. At all events, neither Eleanor nor I shall rest till your innocence is proven and you are free!” : Then, for the first time, moreover, Howland, became sensible of adelicious and subtile per- fume in close connection with his person. It was not the divine atmosphere of his be- cc. —_ + or SO . that money you were so generous an 3 loved, the lingering aura of her vanished em-- brace, though that, too, was present to his spiritual sense. This was the perfume of a flower, a delicate attar appealing to the physical sense. He quickly discovered its source in a full, blown Jacqueminot rose, which she had doubt- less thrust into his bosom in the passion and anguish of that first and last embrace, While pressing the flower passionately to his lips, he was aware of something dangling from its stem, and fastened thereto by a silken cord, whicb he recognized as one of Nelly’s favorite diamond rings, and which would just fit the lit- tle finger of his left hand! Examining it carefully at the grating of his door, there was still enough light from the ad- joining corridor to enable his keen eyesight to discover and read on the inside of the ring an inscription, evidently newely engraved there, these words: ‘+ Forever thine !” It was no dream; all was real and substantial. The horror of Howland’s situation faded from his understanding. He threw himself upon his prison couch, and slept the sleep of the innocent, the hopeful and the just. On appearing in court for sentence the follow- ing morning, with Hugh Spender at his side, he expressed his gratitude that Eleanor was not present. ‘*T divined your sensibilities in the matter, my boy,” was the lawyer’s reply, ‘* and per- suaded her to stay away.” ‘*The marriage?’ queried Howland. **Ts an ahsolute dead secret until Eleanor her- self sees fit to divulge it.” The judge then, with a few brief remarks as to the fairness of the trial and the inevitable- ness of the conviction, sentenced the prisoner to two years and six months in State Prison. As Howland was being led away, he caught Burley’s triumphant glance from among the many that were curiously bent upon him, but he passed on with an air of perfect indifference, CHAPTER IV. WANTED, ‘A DETECTIVE. THE alleged forged cheek, upon which Charles Howland’s conviction and sentence had been secured, had, according to the prisoner’s own statement, this history, in brief: A year or so previous to the trial, when Bur- ley and he were still on excellent terms, not- withstanding that both were paying like assidu- ous court to their employer’s beautiful daughter, with no decided evidence as to which she pre- ferred, if either, the elder clerk had persuaded the other to lend him five hundred dollars out of his savings to meet a pressing need, the nature of which, however, he could not or would not explain. As Howland knew his friend’s habits to be fairly good, or at least was quite certain that they did not include the vice of gambling, and as, moreover, there was a strong friendship ex- isting between them at the time, he had granted the loan without hesitation and without security, as a purely personal service, Considerably later on, when Miss Sherwood'’s preference for Howland over his rival bad be- come more or less pronounced, the intimacy of the young men naturally cooled, especially on Burley’s part, though he still managed to mask his growing animosity yw his rival, and continued to visit Miss Sherwood as if tacitly aware of, yet resigned to, his ill-fortune. Nothing had been said about the borrowed money, though, as the months slip awa without Burley making any illusion to if, Howland felt more or less uneasy, and doubtless betrayed as much in his manner, But one evening, at last, when they were on their way up-town together, Burley bad agree- ably surprised him by saying abruptly, and with assumed cordiality: | ** Howland, old fellow, I have at last received the proceeds of my mother’s estate in the West Indies, and am ina position to pay you back trustin as to accommodate me with. Come in here an have some wine with me [they were footing it leisurely up Broadway, and had come to a pause before a well-known wine room,] and I will give you a check for the amont, together with my thanks, which have already been so long delay- a ot I am more than half ashamed of my- se . Much gratified, Howland had cheerfully ac- companied him into the place. Here, when wine had been furnished them in one of the private compartments, Burley hastily filled out and signed a check for the original amount of the loan (Howland having peremp- torily declined to accept of interest) with a foun- tain pen, which his companion had never seen him possess or use before, though he did not think of remarking upon the matter at the time. The check had been accepted with thanks, af- ter acursory glance at the amount, and there was an end for the time being. But two or three days later on, when How-~ land presented the check at an up-town bank on which it was drawn, and with w Comic