Beadle's Dime Library No. 762: The Rounder Rogue in New York — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

a = . “i . fe Le e. + Pied ~ wh Ty = Ofees a a x : —_—- -.. adi) >- 7 - La* TAL * ' * ae ~ ——-s ee a 4 he ee talisman for you—and I fancy the wonderful opal flasher is something of that sort. Yes, I’m giad of it, and yet—” +” Her fingers began to work again. **And yet what?’ asked the detective. a little anxiously. She flushed shamefacedly. ‘*And yet, the mere thought of that flasher makes my fingers itch,” she went on, faltering- ly. ‘*The whole overpowering stealing instinct comes back over me with a sort of rush, and it is only the thought of my little boy that keeps me to my footbold.” Perhaps for the first time in his career, Ned Grippon was little short of conscience-smitten. The thought of the heedlessness with which he had been near to undoing his own good inten- tions with regard to this poor, struggling crea- ture, who was so willing and so earnest to seek her soul’s redemption as the price for acting as his confederate and spy, was almost too much for him. . ‘Think no more of it, Nell,” said he, hur- riedly. ‘‘The gem is, as you say, a sort of talis- man, and it may be necessary for me to have it in my possession. In that case, I shall contrive to obtain it of Gladys in my Montalvo imper- sonation. Butdonot dream that I would tempt you to obtain it for me surreptitiously. Come now; talk of something else. Tell me of my lady’s boudoir life from A to Izzard. In the successful portrayal of my fictitious character, there is no idiosyncrasy of her tigress-like character that I would not be familiar with.” Nell obeyed with alacrity— what more charm- ing occupation than for cne pretty woman to enviously pick the foibles of a yet prettier one to pieces/—and the confederates presently sep- arated. The detective next proceeded to his lodgings, and with the utmost care set about investing himself with his impersonation of the absent Count Montalvo, In addition to possessing a rare talent for dis- guises and character-counterfeiting, he had often seen and studied his prototype—a promi- nent man-about-town when in the city—with- out being actually acquainted with him, and now there was not a trick of manner or per- sonal appearance, not the slightest trait, that he did not succeed in reproducing in his own in- dividuality. Moreover, he had the counts speech, mostly in broken English, to perfection, while fortunately he was also an adept in the Italian tongue, which might bestead him in an emergency. «© Strange to say, he experienced the greatest difficulty in a comparatively trifling item, The real count’s hair was long, dark and curling, a romantic mass of clustering masculine ringl+ts, after the manner of the Fra Diavolo, stage- brigand style; and, in all his stock of uake-ups, the detective had but one wig that in any way approximated to the original, and that but im- perfectly, with a miserable fit into the bargain so that it was only by the constant exercise of thoughtfulness that he could keep it from com- ing awry, perbaps to the exposure of his fraudulency. This danger, which had been less imminent in his blended rdle of Montalvo with that of Mephistopheles, would now, he felt, be the chief defective joint in his armor, so to speak. However, there was no time to procure a better wig at his costumer’s; incessant vigi- lance must keep guard over the defect, and he had no reason to be dissatisfied when he at last surveyed himself in bis mirror in all the glory of his complete make-up. ‘To the last minutiw# it seemed correct—the exact fac-simile of its prototype. ' Indeed, as he stepped along the fashionable Fifth avenue promenade, a little later, with that nonchalant saunter which was a well-known characteristic of the Florentine swell, and had aroused the envy of many a stilted dude, he was every where and with no little surprise nod- ded to and greeted as the genuine count. Club fellows grasped his hand and expressed gratified surprise at his unexpected return from Italy, Hopes were hinted that the baccarat and rouge- et-noir that had known him before would speedi- ly resume his distinguished acquaintance. Es- capades of a shady nature were even more than hinted at, for the real count had been a sad rake, to draw it mildly. And more than one pretty woman, with more money than repute- tion, smiled flatteringly at him from ber coach or dog-cart. , The pseudo count had only to be guarded in his answers, and to conduct himself with a sort of mysterious taciturnity, for which his occen- or model was distinguished, and all went well, “This beats the Mephistopheles dodge,” OR ney the detective. “I rather think Jl 9 And he forthwith made a bee-line for the fine afternoon would not fail to tempt Gladys to the enjoyment of the crisp, bright air, and the display of one or another of her superb toulettes. e did not mistake. At a point on the west drive, not far from the col Webster statue, along in her open barouche, solitary in her queenliness, conspicuous amid al] the crowded at hy Central Park drives, almost certain that such a Old Grip, the Detec she came sweeping | your husband averse to concourse by the magnificence of her dark beauty, regally caparisoned and signalized by the phantom-like coquetry of that wonderful half-smile that was rapidly making her as much of arara avisin fashionable New York as she had been in London, Paris, and perbaps other of the Old World capitals. The pseudo count raised his hat with the most els borate homage, and their eyes met, He saw the gleam in her proud eyes, the flush in her dark cheek, and then the barouche came to an inviting pause at the edge of the promen- ade, along which he had been idly strolling. As he eagerly stepped into the equipage, after raising the fair gloved hand to his lips with for- eign gallantry, there was a sort of guttural ex- clamation, as if of horrified surprise, as the fine bays were again put to their ae paces, with an ostentatious rattling of the silver-chain trappings. It was from Richards, seated on the box in his footman’s livery, and with such disguise of the detective’s handiwork on his piysiognomy as a first-class barber hed been enabled to effect and who had suddenly turned a white, scared look upon the man whom he must have honestly regarded as the dead-alive, ut, as a matter of course, his countship had no consciousness, save for the fascinating crea- ture at his side. ** Ah, signorina, this is too much!” murmured the count. ‘*‘ How can I support such happiness? I do not deserve it. I am transported! I ask myself, Is this real, is this true? And yet I have kissed your hand, 1 gaze onee more into your divine eyes. And see!” He drew off his glove and pressed the ring she bad given him to his lips, while still returning her enamored glance. Gladys leaned forward and gave a direction to the coachman, who presently whipped out of the Park and began making for the more seclud- ed drives of the extreme W est Side. ‘You have then greatly desired to see me again, count?’ she murmured, in a guarded voice, while casting down ber eyes. ** Desired it!” he also lowered his voice, though without restraining his enthusiasm, ‘‘Think of our first meeting (oh, that waltz, that bewilder- ing waltz!) and the hopes that it raised in my Mephistophelian breast, and then i ine the absurdity of such a question. Desired it? I have been desolated—torn with anxiety and suspense!” **Cruel! and yet you could keep yourself from me for an entire week.” ‘* Ah, madame! fate, not I, was to blame. I have had troubles, embarrassments—but you will one day know all, and you will then for- give. ‘‘I do that already,” with an impassioned look. ‘‘ Are younot with menow? Theanguish of the past is as nothing in the rich sunshine of the present and of—possession !”’ . Her melodious voice thrilled like a harp, chance-swept in the gloom of a dark palace- chamber, with the utterance of these low words, Her hand was again seized and pressed ecstat- mare ber companion’s lips. ‘* What! 1 hear such an avowal from those perfect lips? I am really something to you then? Corpo di Bacchio! itis too wuch!” ‘* Hush!” and she began to speak in such Ital- ian as was at her command—which was not a great deal; ‘‘ or let us converse in your own len- guage. That will be better and—safer.” CHAPTER XXVI. THE CARRIAGE INTERVIEW. “‘WitH all my heart!” exclaimed the false count, and thenceforth their conversation was carried on less guardediy in Italian, ‘‘ Ah, madame, how happy you are making me! Tell me, did you get word from the capable oung man, Old Grip, of my being at last at berty to appear in public without fear?” ‘** Yes; only an hour or two ago. AndI re- turned word for you to him at his office.” **‘And behold, now by the merest accident I have forestalled you; 1 am with you! What mere did you send, may I[ ask, divine signor- na?’ ‘*T hardly like to tell you, now that we are together.” And she again cast down her eyes, ‘*] may have been imprudent—I would almost like to withdraw the message now,” ‘* Withdraw it? Ab, you could not so wish, if it were kindly meant. Tell me, cara mia,” and once more was the pretty, gloved hand caressed; ‘‘ was it an appointment?’ ** Yes, count,” i oon what?” or you to visit me,‘as my special. guest, in my own suite, at eight this evening,” eae or an instant the count was too supremely delectated to utter his acknowledyments, save in incoherent and half-delirious rhapsodies that were doubtless as unintelligible to his compan- ion as to himself. ‘Of course, I shall be only too happy,” he managed to say at last. ‘‘ But tell me, is not your receiving genset as your private guests in this man- ner tive. ee Se eee SO - ee eee a a, 19 ** Not in the least—that is, he is so no longer. I entertained a party of my step-son’s friends till a late hour last night, and my dear, good old husband managed to be content when I so much as ran into his room to give him a good- night kiss and take a look at his gouty foot. My dear good old husband is very complaisant, count.” “IT should say he was,” said the detective, under his breath, though a self-satisfied grin was his only outward response, ‘ ‘*Of course,” Gladys went on, with peculiar composure, ‘‘my*husband knows that I am a wife to be absolutely trusted, notwithstanding that he is a trifle of forty years my senior. However, it is needless for me to say, count,” with a swift glance, ‘‘ that my step-son will not be present at our interview this evening, save, pernaps, at the outset. I want to have you. alone with me.” ‘* Ah, madame! is it that I wake or is it that. I dream?” ‘*My woman, though, wil be present, as a matter of course,” Giacys made haste to say. ‘You see, count, witha ravishing smile, “‘ we. can begin to grow thoroughly acquainted with each other, at all events. That is,” demurely, ‘if you should offer no objections.” ‘Objections? Ah, Dis mio! I am already the signorina’s slave, her dog, her helot her wor- shiper!” ‘* Nonsense! or rather, count, let us leave these soft heroics for a fitter occasion. Let us not forget that we are now before the public. There are some matter-of-fact things that I would converse with you about before we again mingle in the more thronged and fashionable ves. After a number of turmings, they were now slowly traversing an old-time popular but lon since comparatively-deserted drive on the west. side, above 140th street, and not far from Harlem lane and St. Nicholas avenue. The road had relapsed, in a measure, into its origi- nal rusticity. The few and far between cot- tages at either side, ‘‘ close-latticed to the brood- ing day and silent in their dusty vines,” wore a hushed, reposeful look. Grass was springin here and there in the roadway that of ol echoed to the fast trotter’s speeding heels; and the tall trees along the sides, still umbrageous in the rich tintings of their autumnal foliage, were an edditional element of seclusion from the busy march of improvement but a few steps away on either side, ‘Pray, speak without reserve, signorina,’” said Gladys’s companion, with the utmost suay-. ity. ‘‘l am all attention.” ‘*'What do you think of the detective?” “Of the Signor Old Greep?” sé Y es. ” *“*T don’t know what to think of him. He sought me out in my retirement at your own in- stance, dear signorina; or at least, so he said, and I believed him.” - i 30 9 is true.” “Well, I don’t know what to think of him. He stumps me, as they say in your language.” ‘** You mean that you found him somewhat in-- comprehensible?” ‘* That is it.” ‘ **But do you think him trustworthy—a man whose pledged word and engagement are to be depended on?’ he count shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands, ** Who shall ore yes, though wit —s Well, then, yes—I shall say" some diffidence. A man of ‘| heart, and a manof iron! Of one thing I am certain,” ‘** W hat is that?” anxiously. The count laughed, “ Well,” said he, ‘‘if I were fleeing for my a * from the shadow of some crime of whic knew myself guilty, Signor Old Gree is about the last detective in the world that would like to bave on my track. Adorable. signorina, that is the way Signor Old Greepim- —_ pressed me. **Ah!” She forced a laugh. ‘‘ Do you know he impressed mesomewhat in the same way. Bu do you think he is a man who—who might be concilia ted?” e = : an enemy, do you mean, dear signorina s Yes: or we will say, by an enemy whe wished to be so no longer—who wished for the chance to be fair and upright and blameless in the future,” : Again the count shrugged his shoulders. ‘* Ah, I suppose that would depend on circum- stances, But really, dear lady, 1 must not be expected to know anything of value concerning this strange and inscrutavle man, who at times. looks youthful, and at times seems ancient, who is apparently compounded of silk and iron, of sunshine and gloom—I who havo known him so briefly and so transiently. Come, let us talk of something else. Let us I dare whisper it?—more intimate as between. ourselves.” And yet again was the pretty gloved hand imprisoned. **No, ne, count, not yet, not now!” She seemed to abandon tbe subject with reluctance, ‘‘Now for another thing, my dear count. 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