Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 580 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

% 6 *¢ And you surely cannot refuse my dying re- quests.” ‘*T will promise you anything that I possibly can, papa,” It is nothing impossible that I shall require of you. Essylt, my child, I am far less wealthy than you have bad reason to suppose. When I am dead, and my affairs come to be wound up, there will not be a great deal left for you. But I have provided for you none the Jess, It is my desire that you make your home with my part- ner, Mr. Blackwall. I mentioned this to bim long ago, and it is his request as much as mine, ‘Will you do this?” ‘*What of Mrs. Swann, papa?” ‘““T have mentioned her in my will, and she can take care of herself comfortably for the rest of her days. But, your answer?” “Tf you really desire it, papa, and it has been so arranged,” the daughter answered, ‘I am willing.” ' | ‘That is right. Then this house can be sold, and whatever there. is for you Mr. Blackwall will invest for you to the best advantage. My will was made some years ago, and in it he is mentioned as your guardian. Of course you are too old now for him to bold that relation to you, but it is my request that you pay heed to his counsel—as much, if possible, as you would to mine, Can you do this?” ‘*T will follow your wishes as far as possible, ” Thank you, Essylt, thank you.” Everything he said was in a fragmentary manner, and the foregoing occupied several miuutes, Mr, Parmilye paused for breath. ** And about the past, papa,” Essylt prcsent- 1 reminded ; ‘you said you would mention that. “The past, my child,” tbe father made an- swer, ‘‘ must remain a sealed book to you, It is better so. Do not try to fathom that which, were you to learn the truth, would make you unhappy.” ; ‘** But, tell me aw ty 2 my mother; please do!” the girl pleaded. ‘* You have been away from home so much, papa, as I have too, that we have seen but little of each other, if seems to me. I have felt that I have been an orphan in- deed, This is a request which I have made many times before, papa, and, at such a time as this [ hope you will not put me off,” “Still, [must do so, There are things which it is better for us not to know, and this is one such to you. But, I will tell you something. You are the issue of an honorable marriage, Ask me no more,” Mr. Parmilye’s voice was growing weaker, and his breathing seemed more labored, ‘** You had better call the doctor in again,” he directed. Essylt stepped quickly to the door and spoke the doctor’s name, and he was on hand imme- diately. When he came to the bedside, he shook his head ominously. **Ts he worse?” the weeping girl asked in a whisper. The doctor nodded in assent, ‘*Oh! he must not die!” she sobbed; ‘*‘ can you not save his life?” ‘* Nothing can save him,” the doctor answered sorrowfully, ‘* Essylt! Essylt, my child!” the old gentle- man faintly exclaimed, Yes, papa, here 1 am,” the yonng lady re- sponded, and she stepped again to the bedside. “Do not leave me yet,” was the request. “There is one other promise I would exact of you, my child,” ‘* And what is that, papa?” ‘Tt is a request that I bave made before. I desire you to become the wife of Doctor Gon- ene Say that you will obey me in this, Es- sylt. The young lady was silent, her face hid in her hands, For some moments no one spoke, and then Dr. Gonsalvo laid his hand ever so tenderly upon the shoulder of the young lady, saying: ‘* This is very painful to me, at such a time as this, but I feel that | ought»to speak. Become my wife, Essylt Parmilye, and I will devote the rest of my life to making you happy. In the presence of your father I say this,’ ‘*It is my dving wish,” Mr. Parmilye gasped. **Essylt, he has my full and free consent to your band. Say that you will marry him,” The daughter was silent. “It is my dying request,” Mr, Parmilye again gasped, “T will marry you on one condition,” Essylt suddenly declared, turning to the doctor; ‘oa one condition and none other.” , ** What is that?” the doctor asked. For the instant Mr. Parmilye forgot that he was dying, stopped panting for breath, and listened. “The condition is that you save my father!” Essvlt announced, **Would that I could do it!” the doctor ex- claimed, with fervor. Just then Mr. Parmilye became much worse, and Dr. Gonsalvo hurriedly requested Essylt to dJeave the room, Shadowing a Shadow. A ee When she was gone Mr. Parmilye sat up w th a smile, ‘* It was of no use,” he observed in a whisper. ‘You will have to try it when I am gone, Well, good-by, doctor,” offering his hand; ‘I am tired of shamming, so let us have the real thing? The dark-visaged doctor shook hands with his patient, bade him good-by, and stepping back, took from his pocket a little vial. Dropping a few drops of its contents into a spoon contain- ing some water, be stirred it for a moment with a pin, and then directed Mr, Parmilye to swal- low it. The banker did so. In a few moments his face grew ghastly, and his breathing was hardly perceptible. The doctor stepped to the door and called. Essylt, the housekeeper, and others, — in. In a few minutes Mr, Parmilye was ead, CHAPTER VII. KINWORTH’S ROYAL BEGINNING, WHEN Detective Kinworth arose, on the morn- ing after his arrival in the city, he felt as good as new, Some time after he had breakfasted he saun- tered out from the hotel, with the intention of making a stroll through Wall street his first business of the oy. Going out to Broadway he walked leisurely down to that street, turned into it, and went down toward the river for some distance. Pres- ently he stopped, turned, and retraced his steps toward Broadway. ‘It is just about as Mrs, Milburn described it,” he mused, looking up toward Broadway, ‘‘and just about as I remembered it. It is a narrow street, slightly up-hill, offices on both sides, and yonder across Trecattway stands old Trinity. There is no mistaking this well-known street,” Kinworth was, as he had told Mrs. Milburn, quite at home in New York, though it was now some years since he had been there. ‘*And now for that name—Whitford,” he continued, in thought. ‘‘ I must see if it is to be fuund anywhere around here.” He looked at the signs on both sides of the street, but saw nothing of the name he wanted, and was soon at Broadway again, ‘* Well, so much for the first move,” he reflect- ed. ‘* Now to learn something about the Whit- fords of New York of twenty-five to thirty years 4 e returned to the hotel. There be took a glance at a city Directory, to learn where it was published, loitered around for a little time, and set out again. In due time he was at the office of a Directory company, where, having stated what he want- ed, the file of old New York Directories was placed at his dis 1, Going back thirty years, he took up the one of that date and turned to the name Whitford. Almost immediately he found what, he felt sure, was what he wanted, It was the name of one Reuben Whitford, a banker, of No, —— Wall street. Making a note of this, and of the man’s resi- dence as well, Kinworth looked for the same name jin the succeeding Directories. He found it in four others, and then it disappeared. He made a note of that point also, , When he left the office of the Directory com- pany he felt that be was making much better progress at the outset than he had hoped to make. Of course he had placed strong reliance wry the finding of the name Whitford in the old Directories, but he had not hoped to find the additional clew, at the very first effort, of one Whitford who had been a banker on Wall street. He had expected that he would have to make a thorough canvass of the whole city, bunting up everybody of that name that was to be found, and tracing the Wuitford genealogy un- til a Celeste Whitford came to light, He returned immediately to Wall street. Arriving there, he looked up the number the Directory bad furnished and wentin. It was a banking and broking establishment, Stepping up to a window he inquired whether the president of the concern was in. He was not, but one of the vice-presidents was. Kin- worth requested to see him, and was conducted into bis office. The vice president was an elderly man, very trim in appearance, | ‘*T bave called to sea whether you can give me any information concerning one Reuben Whitford, who carried on a banking business at this number about twenty-seven years ago,” the detective explained, *T can not, sir,” was the prompt answer. ** All that I know is that such a person did oc- cupy this building about the time you have named,” ‘*Can you direct me to any one who is likely pol ats something about him?” the detective as ‘*T can not, sir. I— But, hold on, I will ask our head bookkeeper.” _ The tap of a bell was immediately answered, and the vice-president sent for the person he had mentioned, ‘ . | | | . OO TT Sse: nslssssssssn-sssssssssssssssssssssssssssss--s=—=sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssSSss-->-stesees se SE hss sss SEEEEEIeeeene ee In a few moments he came. ‘*Gentleman inquiring about Whitford who used to do business here,” the vice-president tersely explained; ‘‘ can you tell him anything?” ‘‘ Nothing more than that, sir,” was the an- swer. ‘‘I think, bowever,” the man added, ‘that one of bis clerks is now in the bank of Blackwall, Parmilye & Co.” ‘* What is his name, and where is their bank?” the detective asked, the two questions in one. ‘*His name is Jason Griflit,” the bookkeeper answered; and he gave the street and number. Kinworth returned thanks for the informa- tion, and left the office, He went from there to the banking-house of Blackwall, Parmilye & Co,, where be made in- quiry for the person whose name had been fur- nished, Jason Griffit was on hand, and finding that the caller wanted to see him in private, invited him into the office of the heads of the house, When they were in the cffice and seated, then the detective made known his business, ‘“‘T want to find out something about Reuben Whitford and his family,” he set out with say- ing,‘‘ and as you used to be in his employ I take it for granted that you can give me some infor- mation, He did not ask Griffit whether he had been in the service of Mr. Whitford or not, but employ- ed the positive assertion. The eyes of the head clerk opened wide, a new light gleamed in them, and an expression of determined firmness came over his face, ‘* What do you want to know?” he asked. ‘* All that you are able to tell me,” was the answer. f ‘That is hardly tothe point, sir. You will have to make your questions more direct. ’ ‘* Very well, Ican do that. I know that Mr. Whitford had an office on Wall street about twenty-seven years ago. What became of him immediately after that?” ‘* He died, sir.” ‘* As [ naturally inferred, What became of his daughter Celeste?” The form of the question led to the immediate inference that the inquirer had positive know- ledge of what he was saying; that is, that he knew that Mr. Whitford had had such a daugh- ter. ‘*T do not know what became of ber,” the head clerk answered. One point gained. This was ackuowledg- ing that Mr, Whitford had had a daughter Celeste! ‘* You knew the young lady, I presume?” the detective put next. ‘‘She used to visit tie bank,” The head clerk hardly knew bow to answer. Who could his questioner be? He was too young a man to be making these assertions from bis own knowledge of the matter. In whose in- terest was he 08 os them? Why were the in- uiries being made? ‘‘T remember seeing her there,” he owned, ‘* She visited the bank after her marriage, of course.” ‘* Yes,” ‘** About how long had she been married when her father died?” ‘“Four years or so, 1 should think,” was the answer. ‘** Where was Abington employed?” Another question which bore the form of as- serted knowledge. ‘‘He was employed in the bank,” the head clerk readily informed. The detective was gaining positive knowledge of the case with almost every question. He believed that Griffit bad no interest whatever in trying to conceal any of the facts from him, ‘* And you say you have no information as to what became of him and Celeste after Mr. Whitford’s death, if I understand you aright.” ‘*‘ None whatever, sir.” ‘‘How many children had they, three or two?” Another half expressed assertion. Kinworth had a clew to but one child, but he was after facts and framed his questions accordinghy, ‘They had two children,” the clerk informed. ** Only two, eh? And what were they, boys?” ‘The oldest was a boy, I believe,” The detective stored every point away care- fully. ‘‘Let me see, what was Abington’s first name?” be next questioned. ‘‘It was Henry, was it not?” ‘* Yes, that was it.” “So I thought. Bv the way, did Reuben Whiteford have a son?” ** Not that 1 know of, sir.” **'Was Celeste his only child?” **T believe she was.” ‘* And his wife, what of her?” ‘* He had been a widower for some years, sir,” Griffit was answering the questions pooly and freely, and the detective was more than ever inclined to believe that he had no reason to withhold anything that he might know, ‘“Can you tell me anything about Henry Abington?” he further questioned. ‘IT under- stand that he is now dead, and I would like to learn something of bis family connections, To be more plain with you, I want to learn where he Gomicbooks * . Q ll hs ” ‘ | i y % ’ o