Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 580 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

~ —— es SR aes arenes —————————————e—— 4 —-——__—_—_—_ -- ttn tld, il teil ile iit i — |} ee —_ ‘ _ > ye OY Lj Shadowing a Shadow. , , we ~ 3 stream of vehicles and people crossing on a more busy thoroughfare. Right at the head of the narrow street, but on the opposite side of the one on which the travel is much greater, towers the steeple of a tall church. Lam coming up the street—the narrow one—on the right-band side, I see the church plainly. Il go ona little further, and enter a—” Again the far-away look had come into her eyes, as she was speaking slowly and deliberate- ly, but it suddenly vanisbed, and she came to an abrupt stop. ‘* Another of the memory-flashes,” the detec- tive observed, ‘‘ Yes,” was the answer. ‘“‘The scene came suddenly before me, as 1 put my mind upon it, but it was gone immediately.” ‘‘Have you told me all that you started to y” ‘Yes, thatisall. Do you recognize the pic- ture?” ‘**One question first: Does that street in any way suggest to your mind the idea of money cr banks,” The lady sprung excitedly to her feet. ‘“‘ That was it!” she exclaimed. ‘I was going into the bank!” ‘* What bank?” The recollection had vanished. She passed her hand wearily across her forehead as before, and sat down again, ‘*ITdo not know,” she made answer. ‘The picture came again like a flash of light, and I saw that it was a bank I was about to enter. Now it seems to come to my mind that there were many banks there.” ‘‘ Madam,” the detective informed, ‘‘ you have described Wall street of New York, the strong- hold of bankers and brokers,” **Ts it possible?” ** Not only possible, but a positive fact, I see it as clearly as though I were standing there this minute,” ‘* it is very strange.” ‘What more can you tell me?” ** Nothing more that I can think of now. But,” taking a ring from her finger as she spoke, ‘* I have here something a little more tangible than mere pictures of a disordered brain, This ring was on my finger when I was put into the insane asylum,” ‘* Ha!” exclaimed the detective, ‘a clew, how- ever slight it may prove to be!” He took the ring and looked at it carefully, deliberately and critically, It had been a moder- ately heavy one, but it was now considerably worn, It had been made to represent the twist of a rope, but it was otherwise plain. On the inside some initials were inscribed, which were now only just discernible. The inscription, as Kinworth made it out, was—‘‘ H, A, to C. Ww.” ** Can you read it!” the lady asked. .- “* Yes,” was the answer; and the detective read it aloud. , ‘That is right,” the lady confirmed. ‘Some years ago the letters were much more distinct in outline than they are now.” ‘And what ring do you think this is—your matriage ring?” ‘‘T do not know, It cannot have been, if my maiden name was Mancred, That was the name given by the man who said he was my brother, you remember.” ‘*True; but you have said that Whitford isa name that keeps coming to yonr mind, May I inquire what your first name is?” * It is Celeste,” ‘*Ha! we are one step further, right or wrong! Do not the letters ‘*C. W.” stand for Celeste Whitford.” **T have thought of that, but I cannot de- cide,” , f ‘*Let us infer that they do. Now, what of the others? The letter ‘‘ A” stands for Abing- ton, it must follow. Shall we say Henry Abington?” ‘**T do not know; I cannot tell,” the lady an- swered, speaking slowly and looking at the floor in a thoughtful manner. ‘' I know not what to dlo with the name Mancred. What if this ring has been my mother’s wedding-ring?” “That does not make the case any clearer, In that event the name Mancred would still be in the way, as we would have to infer that your maiden name was Abington, It is a puzzle.” ‘‘ There is one other view of the matter, and one which it is for me to bring up for discus- sion,” remarked Mrs. Milburn, without a her eyes from the floor as she spoke, ‘‘ What sball now mention bas no doubt already oc- curred to you. Suppose that [ have never been married atall. There may be some disgrace in connection with my past.” ‘“Madam,” returned the detective, “ that thought has come to me and has been consid- ered, Ithink your fears in that direction are groundless, Let me draw your attention to certain points, First, is your memory .to be trusted in regard to things in the past?’ f think it is, as far as it goes. You have described ac- curately a street of New York. With this fact before us, what reason have we to doubt the brief picture of your married life which you can bring to mind? None whatever. In the next we have the evidence of the man who left Abington, and stated that you were a widow. Now here is a ring which you had on your fin- ger at that time, which has the initials ‘ H. A.’ and ‘C. W.’ inscribed in it. [ take it that this has been your engagement ring, for here we get your married name-- Celeste Abington.” ‘*You may be right, but there is still the aw- ful doubt. That name Mancred is always in the way ‘** Does that name hold any place in your re- collection of the past?” sé No.” ‘** And how about the name Abington?” ** Oh, that seems all right, that seems always to have been my name.” The detective was thoughtful for some mo- ments, **You have nothing more to tell me?” he presently inquired, ‘* Nothing more,” was the reply. ‘*‘ And now let me ask you if you will take the matter up for me, [am willing to pay liberally, and I want the truth of this affair brought to light, no mat- ter what the past may have been. Will you engage in tiny service, sir?” ‘*Yes,” Kinworth answered, “I will; you may consider me in your eraploy from this mo- ment, and, rest assured of one thing—I shall pursue the quest with more interest than in any case I ever undertook,” Satisfactory terms were easily agrsed upon, and after some further talk over minor points the detective took his leave, carrying with him the gold ring. He returned atonce to the Kearney-street office, ani afew hours later was crossing the Oakland ferry en-route to New York. CHAPTER ITI. A PECULIAR COMPACT, New YorK Ciry. The day and hour the same, allowing for difference of time, as in the previous chapters. An elderly gentleman mounted the steps of a handsome Murray Hill residence, at the side of the door of which wasa neat sign with the name— ‘*GonpA GonsaLvo, M, D.” A colored man-servant answered the bell, and the caller asked: **Is Doctor Gonsalvo in?” ‘Yes, sah; step right in, sak,” were the re- sponse and invitation, and the darky threw the door open with a respectful bow, The elderly gentleman entered, and was shown into a hansomely appointed parlor office, where the servant placed a chair and invited him to be seated, ‘* What name, sah?” he then asked; adding, ** If you please, sah.” ‘*Sigbert Parmilye,” the caller answered; adding: ‘*Tell your master not to keep me waiting too long.” ‘* Yes, sah.” The darky withdrew, closing the door after him silently, and the old gentleman settled down in his chair to await the doctor’s coming. He was a man about sixty or sixty-five years old, as might have been guessed, and wore a wig of sandy-brown hair, the hair being a little longer than that of wigs in general. On his right cheek was a large mole. He was clean- shaved, When he spoke, it was immediately noticeable that he had no teeth. He was well dressed, in clothes of a dark color, and wore a strikingly heavy gold chain across his vest. He wore spectacles, He had not long to wait. Ina little time the door opened, and Dr. Gonsaivo entered the room, He was a tall man, and was attired in black, He had black hair, black eyes and a very dark complexion. He was good-looking, but there was something about bim that was forbidding. What that something was it might not have been easy to explain, It might have been said that it was suggestive of the snake, He had a straight, finely-waxed mustache, and a small, ip in imperial, He was about forty years of re. When he came in he greeted his visitor with a smile, stepped forward with extended hand, and a OMr Pe lye, I | | ; . Parmilye, lam glad to see How do you do?” rs . Arcr e spoke with a slight Spanish accent, ‘*T am well enough, doctor,” responded Mr. Parmilye, giving his hand without rising; ‘* how are you?” ‘** Never better I assure you. very often, but you look as natural as life.” At this they both laughed, though why they did so might not have been clear to.any one but themselves. , ‘* Yes, I flatter myself that I hold my own pretty well,” Mr. Parmilye responded. ‘** Well,” observed the doctor, ‘‘ I suppose you want a private interview with me.” ‘“That is what I am here for.” ** Very well, we will go into the back room where we will not be disturbed,” The doctor led the way, the old gentleman fol- lowing bim, and they were soon seated in a rear I do not see you other. It was more like some slovenly surgeon and chemist’s den. There were books and bot- tles and instruments lying around in profusion; two skeletons stood guard in their respective corners; and half a dozen or so of grinning skulls occupied various positions on the floor and tables. ‘** Now,” said the doctor, when he had closed the doors and sat down, “ we are safe from in- terruption.” “Very good. Of course you know the busi-— ness that has brought me here,” Mr. Parmilye responded, ‘**I can guess what it is.” ** Well, the time is ripe,” *Then you are fully resolved that you will die, are you?” ‘““T am. It is necessary that I should. You have forgotten nothing of the arrangements made at our other interview, have you?” ‘Nothing whatever, sir. You may fully de- pend upon me.” ‘*T think I can do so. At any rate 1 am going todo so. Your pay for the service will be ten thousand dollars.” ‘**And something more, something which I trust you have not forgotten,” the doctor re- minded, ‘“*And my daughter’s band in marriage, if you can winit. Ihave not forgotten that.” ‘*Which you will do all you can to bring about,” ‘Tt will be my dying request that she marry ou.” , “Good! I will fulfill my part of it, and [ promise you that you shall die like a gentleman ought todie.” . But you will see—” ‘Everything is understood, Mr. Parmilye, perfectly understood,” the doctor interrupted; “*there is no need to go over our former inter- view again. You may rely fully on me and trust everything to me.” ‘* Well, I do so, And now for the final ar- rangements.” ‘* Yes, that is the all-important part, When do you want to die?” ‘* One week from to-night.” ** So soon?” ‘* No sooner, no later,” was the cool and calm reply. it was wonderful with what deliberate cool- ness they could talk over such a terribly im-- rtant matter—important to one of them at east. . " og your plans—what are they?” thedoctor . asked. ‘*] will tell you, and you must give me close attention, so that you will know well your part. ‘*T am all attention, Mr. Parmilye.” ‘Good. My Besa Mr. Blackwall, will start for New Orleans to-morrow, He will be there at the time of my death. One week from this afternoon I shall be at the bank, where I shall be taken ill, I will request to be brought home immediately, and you will be sent for. When you come, you will say that I am dying. I will request you to telegraph for my daugh- ter. You will do so, hen she arrives I shall seem to be in a vg low condition. request will be for her to marry you. Then you will admiuister the poison to me and I shall pass quietly away. Do you understand it?’ “Perfectly, sir. I shall not fail to do well my part. But the ten thousand dollars—” **’'You will fiad it to your credit at our bank.” “Very ‘yout that is perfectly satisfactory. What further directions have you to give?’ ‘* None so particular as those of our former interview, sir. You assure me that everythin is unders Iam content, My life is insu in several companies to the amount of nearly seventy thousand dollars. Fifty thousand of that will go to my partner, Mr. Blackwall, and the remainder to my daughter. My will willbe fouad, and all this made clear.” ‘* And your partner will be made your daugh-- ter’s uardian, as I understood you to say,” “ Yes, ** And of course he will favor my suit for her hand?” ‘* He will, He understands bis part well.” Again they both laughed, as though there was something highly amusing in all this. How it eould be amusing for . Parmilye did not appear. . ** You are able to make light of it, I notice,” the doctor observed, ‘** And why not?” demanded Mr. Parmilye. ““Tf I had only one week more of life before me, I think I should feel rather blue. It would: be a serious matter with me.” _ “Oh, it is serious enough with me; but what is the use of repining? he die is cast and L have got to go. - ca either you or your partner, eh?” with a smile, ‘It was either I or Mr, Blackwall. It fell to me, and I shali not back out. One week from this night I die, with your kind assistance.” . - = you shall, sir; rest assuredof that. Bu see here; This will be your last visit here, and we may as well drink a parting glass together.” My last why not have a little wine with me? « * sistent sss A tt CL LE parlor which was quite in contrast with the ‘‘I bave no objections,” Mr, Par i | comicbool _-—- yout the asylum, He gave your name as Mrs, t« y fs - ‘- . 1¥ ‘ ») we, * * - a7 | Ss : ' | \< ° i 4 oe - . z -~