Beadle's New York Dime Library (no. 1059) (1902 04)
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Copyricu'r, 1881, ny Brapte & ADAMS. Published Eve Month. A Romance of Northern and Southern Lands and Seas: BY THE AUTHOR OF ‘‘ MERLE, THE MUTINEER,”’ CHAPTER IL. THE CORSAIR’S BOOTY. “SHARE!” ‘The voice that uttered the one word was cee and stern, and the low hum of half a hundr voices ceased, and a deathlike silence followed until afar off, clear and ringing, were hear the notes of a bugle, winding forth a strain that zose and fell melodiously upon the night air and floated away on the evening breeze, until tt reached the waiting ears of a man, standin erect, and with arms folded upon his broad | CcoO., Publishers, (JAMES SULLIVAN, PROPRIETOR), 379 Pearl Street, New York. breast, glancing out over the dark waters, while around him crouched a band of men, the reck- less, savage crew of the beautiful vessel whose deck they trod, and above which hung motion- less the folds of an outlaw flag. ‘*]t is the signal; Hernandez is true, if not to me, at least to his own sordid interests; come!” Springing upon the bulwarks of his vessel, which was mvored close in against a rock, the speaker began the rugged ascent of the over- hanging cliff, followed, in single file, by his men, all of them armed to the teeth. Once upon the summit: » leader used and lanced down upon his trim schooner, hardly visible as it lay sixty feet beneath his feet, but whose pencil-like, rakish masts rose above 4 “« A bad place to get out of, should we be pur- sued by the soldiers from the forts, for these alone would be deadly weapons in their hands,” and he kicked over astone, which, with many others, lay at his feet, and then let his eyes rest upon the small, land-locked bay beyond, v7hile he muttered, as though thinking aloud, rather than addressing his men: “But once away from this cliff, with the the Spanish cruisers could weigh anc i sail around to head us off.” Rie “Tt is a risky place to venture into, chief,” observed a young man, whose dress and appear: ance even in the darkness indicated his rank ag an Officer, — (eg fa “But the reward will be worth the risk, ar though I do not believe in this: land-robb work, my conscience is at rest in this case, Con- rado, as I seek rev i ' mercilessly having nine of my crew put cruel death. But come, we must on, fos rise again the notes of the bugle,” and turning his men, who stood in silence around him, t chief continued, aloud: _ “Lads, remember there is to be no blood unless J give the command. The treasure we* get here goes to you, for I want none of it, as told you, and only come on this ex ion te — keep mS pledged word to one who once me we Follow me, and be as silent ghosts.” wt gb So saying, he led the way around the e wind where it is, we can run out easily before. an orange grove, for the scene was a yy P22) ar, a iL Ae ers — oe tS = = Don Ivan far |
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The Chevalier Corsair. af the West Indies under the rule of old . foMowed by his men, who did in- deed look grun in the gloom, he soon came out &pan a ro ale beyond of a which glimmered the white old neg Me from went windows of which 4 one t. Mesa ae !” stren tha ts ‘*Mercy, sefior chief, mercy, for it is Her- ** Be more rs pe pe Ae Sefior Hernandez, in my gold got the bugler to do his work as a feed ‘* Yes; I was no fool to venture here without; is all safe?” “ Assafe asa wep See at night,” answered i man, speaking in Spanish, as the chief had ne, ‘Then we will goon at once. I have deg orders to my men that there is to be no blood- shed; they are to have the gold you point out to them, and the jewels, which you can easily bear off, are to be yours,” ‘Yes, sefior; that is our compact.” “Then it shall be carried out, though I hate to aid in such work, and would not, were it not that I have a score to settle with Don Ivan.” * He is not at home, sefior.” “Such you told me in Havana was to be the ee Snes many servants are there in the man- on ‘* About a score, but they sleep in a distant wing of the hacienda.” ‘* And the fort is a mile away?’ ‘** A short mile, sefior, so we must work in si- lence.” ‘*So be it; now lead the way to your thieving work, Don Hernandez.” “You are severe, sefior.” “Tam truthful; it is a despicable deed you are guilty of, Manuel Hernandez, but when you saved my life, six months ago, in Havana, I ledged myself to serve you when asked, and I htop Ly word, though it is to rob your own kindred; but I sweeten my conscience with the thought that Me kinsman put to death nine of my crew; that I givemy men the gold, touching no. 0..e peso myself, and am getting rid of my abligation to you; now les us have the thing ane Shor chief, your words are insulting,” and B-a Hernande’s tone was in evident anger. “TI never choose my words in addressing a villain, sefior H but lead on, for I want no quar- ral with you,” was the haughty reply. A muttered imprecation came to the lips of the ‘young Spaniard, for such he was, but there was something in the tone and manner of the leader that checked further words, and he si- lently lerifhe way across the lawn. In silWace they reached the mansion and crouched close in the shadows of the walls, in front of an arched doorway leading into the Y Rect h I wil it f ithin,” said * Rest here 1 open it from within,” sai Don Hernandea, in « howe tone, and be disap- peared around a wing of the mansion, and like statues in ebony, as they looked in the dark- ness, stood the buccaneers, awaiting his re- rn. Having gone to the rear of the dwelling, which w sa large, rambling and most elegant old structure, occupying a full acre of land, Don Manuel Hernandez approached a portico, ascended the steps, and tapped lightly at a door, half hidden in vines. It was opened by a young and pretty quad- roor, who, recognizing him, bade him enter. | “‘ Well, pretty Ninetta, has my sweet cousin retired?” j “No, Sefior Manudl; though the hour is late she is in her own salon,” answered the hand- soins negress. The visitor crossed the corridor, preceded by Ninetta, and was ushered into a large but luxu- riously-furnished sitting-room, off which was a sma|l sleeping-chamber and toilet room. Every article of furniture, and the whole sur- roundings, were indicative of wealth and re- fined taste, and the fair mistress of the man- sion reclined upon a divan, her fingers running lightly over the strings of a Spanish bandola. | ace and form she was exquisitely beauti- a bea that would shine re- _ ful, possessing splendent in any assemblage of lovely women; her figure was slight, yet every curve of limb was per.ect, and each feature of her face was ess, while her eyes were as black nate ie as were also the long: es and arc ‘brows, and her hair, g in massive braids wrapper, balf reclining, ' sefiorita, half sitting, with her tiny feet incased in jewel- set slippers, and her small hands holding the bandola, she looked like some fairy of an Ori- ental clime. “Ah, it is you, cousin Manuel?” was her rather cold salutation, as the young man en- tered, and who now, as the lights of the room fell upon oy proved to be dressed in the uni- form of a Spanish captain, and possessed a dark, handsome, yet not a good face, for it was marked by reckless dissipation, ‘Yes, cousin mine, there are some books in my uncle’s library I wish to look over for refer- ence, and, with your permission, I will spend the night there, throwing myself upon the lounge when fatigued.” “Your room is at your service, Don Manuel, as you know, and we breakfast at nine, if you care to remain,” she said, in the same cold tone she had before used. ‘“‘No, I must back to my quarters at the fort, and in fact my search of the volumes [ refer to may not detain me long. Good-night, sweet cousin,” and approaching nearer, he continued in a whisper: “T never saw you looking so beautiful before, and your charms but add to my intense love for ou. ‘* Need I tell you again that your love for me is a vain hope, Don uel?” ‘*No, for it is not pleasant to hear. Good- night once more,” and, taking a lamp handed to him by Ninetta, he left the room, crossed a wide hall, and turned into a door leading into the wing of the mansion in the shadow of whose walls crouched the buccaneers without. Setting down the lamp he did approach the book-case upon ane side of the room, but it was not to take therefrom a volume, as he had said, but to touch a secret spring, which caused thé case to swing open like a door, revealing behind it a narrow portal in the wall. This door also yielded to a touch ona secret spring, and taking up the lamp the midnight ma- acing descended a stone stairway to cellars ow. The light showed it to be a stone vault, around the walls of which were rows of kegs and boxes, a seaman’s chest and stacks of arms. “Here is my treasure, and it is worth the entire gold,” he said, eagerly, raising the lid of the chest, and taking therefrom bags of jewels of all kinds, for on labels attached were marked “ Diamonds,” “ Rubies,” 4“ Pearls,” “ Opals,” s$ agg and so on. Into a leathern sachel he wore beneath his cloak, and fastened around his neck, he thrust the bags of gems, and then hastening across the stone vault unbolted and un @ massive iron door, in which the key turned with a shrieking sound that startled him, and which had been evidently unused for long years. As the door swung heavily back the tall, cloaked form of the Corsair leader stood at the threshold, the light of the Jamp falling full up- on him, see a darkly-bronzed_ face, stern, calm, fearless and gly perfect in every feature. : It was a strangely youthful face, too—under twenty-five. k-brown mustache shelter- ed his mouth, a which rested a sneer, as if called there by his own ignoble part in the mid- night marauding, and his dark, piercing eyes were bent upon Don Manuel, with a look of atari contempt and sternness, ‘Well, sefior, the treasure lies there in those kegs and boxes.” ** And your share of the stealings?” wt “ol ha them whe : lieve you. There, men, is your booty; take it up and be off to the schooner. Mind you, no noise or confusion.” The men entered, and in silence one by one raised the heavy kegs of gold and filed out of the vault, the chief and Don Manuel standing by in silence, But, as the last keg was raised upon a pirate’s brawny shoulder, there came a cry from the room above: ‘‘Help! Ninetta, help! There are robbers in the vaults below!” - CHAPTER II. THE CHEVALIER CORSAIR. “HASTEN there, you snails! Ill check pur- suit,” cried the chief, and he sprung up the stone stairway, down which now streamed a flood of light from the room above. As he bounded, cutlass in hand, into the chamber he started back, for before him, a pis- tol in her hand, and her eyes flashing, he be- held the beautiful form of Stella. Enderos, her eyes pares sf her bosom heaving, for she was | determined in her father’s absence to protect her father’s riches. ‘‘Ha!l a lady here?” and the chief started back in surprise, lowering his cutlass and dof- ) fing his p'umed hat. a Ay, sefior, a lady here—the Sefiorita Stella deros,” she answered, proudly. ‘Is itso that Don Ivan Enderos has a daugh- ter?’ asked the chief, completely amazed. “Yes, I am his daughter; and what do you here, senor?” ne t question were hard to answer to you, he said, in an e way. “And yet I demand an answer, sefior, for my cousin, Don Manuel Hernandez, came hither this night to visit gage ibrary, and I find now, instead of him, yourself, and hear the clink of gold, the clash of ammeé and the voices of men in the vaults below.” “Tt is, alas! too true, lady; but I knew not that Don Ivan had a daughter to share his ae and not of one peso shail you be rob- ‘Robbed! In the name of the Virgin Mother, who are you?” she cried, in alarm, *t Men me a pirate, lady,” came in the deep, sad tones of the chief. A pirate? Oh, God have mercy, for I am lost!” and the Rhee A girl swooned away and sunk in a heap upon the floor. The chief would have sprung to her side and raised her up, but just th into the mathe. 24 en a buccaneer dashed i4 ly: ** Come, sefior chief, Tay heve signaled the fort in some way; the bugles are calling boots and saddles, and already we hear the tramp of cavalry.” With a smothered oath, and a glance at the unconscious maiden, the chief bounded from the room, out through the vault, and gave a loud rallying cry to his men, who, ex- cepting those who had borne away the treasure, awaited him. ‘* Where is Don Hernandez?” he cried. ‘* He has fled, sefior,” ‘That gold must not go on the schooner, for that accursed Spaniard has deceived me as well as pg traitor to bis kindred. Oneof you go, and bid Lieutenant Costello to leave that trea- sure on the cliff, while I pene pe fag «i from yonder coming dragoons,” and ing his men around him, he dashed forward toward the orange grove, around which wound the road leading to the mansion; then he hastily arrang- ed his crew to beat back the first onslaught of the soldiers, after which they could retreat to the schooner before the troops rallied. As left the mansion a man dashed out of the vault, and then another, and each bore in his arms a heavy burden. Keeping in the shadow of the mansion, for a while, they skirted the foliage to the right, and across the lawn from the orange grove, in which were gathered the buccaneers, and running with great speed, soon gained the cliff, and then the schooner, which now had her sails set, and huge sweeps out, ready to depart. As they ente the lights shone upon the faces of Don Man Hernandez, and a swarthy-vi schooner, and in their arms they held human orms, Hardly had they reached the schooner before there resounded above volleys of pistol-shots and the shouts of combatants; after which there was a silence for a few moments, proving saved the troopers had been surprised beaten c Then on the cliff above was heard the ringing voice of the chief, shouting: ‘* Ho, the schooner!” ‘Ay, ay, sefior,” answered the lieutenant, whe had returned with the treasure-bearers. “Ts all ready to cast off?” ” Ay, ay, sir; only awaiting you and the men.’ ‘Then on to the deck, men, and lose no time, for these troopers are but momentarily checked. Ho, Sefior Costello!” he again called out, as the men clambered down the steep hillside. rT; , ay, senor.” “Where is that gold?’ ‘‘ Safe in the hold, sir, and the hatches elosed,” ‘“*Maledictions! Did you not receive my or- ders to leave it ashore?” “ be ge apr ae to me, sefior,” “Open the hatches, and—hold! the troopers are coming,” and checking’ his order, pepe shouts of the charging soldiers, now reénforce were heard, he quickly descended the side o the cliff, and gave orders, as he sprung upon the deck, to cast loose from the rocks. The sweeps moved the schooner clear, and the topsails filling with the breeze that se ept : over the hilltops, she glided off from the land, just as the summit of the cliff be es ay tr ite ar the dicknewe iene te umin y the flash of the pi ; the retreating Soman © pistols, fired after ut the shots fell harmless upon the decks. and getting an offing, the wind filled the jada hen, like a bird, the schooner flew out of the little bay, =e ne boom of a gun was heard, nd another, aud another i hc > quick succession. » gsi ange iz ass _ “Those guns are from the fort, signaling the Spanish cruisers in Sy Eerie ak the es wooed the chief. “An ere go the answering gi “ lied Conrado Costello, the Honlenen ~ the ase pace of sontion was heard. 7 * Yes, and we’ll have to make th fly, for we've got leagues to go before ni fonds open water. Steady as you are, helmsman!” and the chief walked aft to take his place be side the man at the wheel, when from the ca came @ piercing cry that made him start ae boating out of the companionway, the li ng full upon her, was Stella Radersen ee i the cabin with their gto seaman of |
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Se eh ee ee | re — = “Great God! you on board this craft, lady?” broke from the lips of the ehief, “* Ay, sir, and, pirate though you be, I claim your mercy © 1 protection from one whose is as black »s Satan’s,” and the beautiful girl dropped up n her knees and raised her clasped hands, just as Don Manuel Hernandez appeared in the companionway behind her, and said, angrily: “ Sefior chief, that lady is my cousin and un- der my protection.” “Mo, ne, no! A wild beast would be more } merciful than he,” cried the maiden, ** Rise, sefiorita, for I claim the right to pro- | tect you, and I pledge you that on this deck, a SSS though an outlaw floats at the peak, you are assafe as in your father’s care.” “Oh, Heaven bless you, sefior! But take back the words you spoke, in my home, and tell me that you are nota cruel buccaneer,’”’ and she jaid her hand upon his arm. ** Alas! lady, I can but tell the truth; men call me Belmont, the Buccaneer.” ** Heaven defend me!” groaned the girl, and Don Manuel said, sneeringly: **Now, cottsin mine, you will admit that Jam your protector.” “No, a thousand times no! Manuel Hernan- dez, for it was you that brought me here, and into r hands, sefior, confessed pirate though , L intrust myself and my honor to your ledge both shall be sacred,” and m Manuel Hernandez, he con- tinued: “Sefior, as you are an unexpected est aboard my vessel, Lieutenant Costello will as- a you a berth in the ward-room, while my cabin shall be wholly at the service of your cousin as long as she remains upon this schoon- “You shall rue this act, sefior chief, for you act now with mein your power; but the tables may be turned, and then—” ‘*T will have no threats, Captain Hernandez. You deceived me in this night's dirty work, for I knew not that Don Ivan Enderos had a daugh- ter, or I would never have consented to dastard deed, as I make no war against women; and, lady, you and the gold we took from you, shall all be restored to your home in safety.” “4 pirate, and yet a chevalier!” murmured Stella Enderos, in a low tone, while a discon- tented murmur arose from the crew, for they bad heard the words of their chief. He heard the threatening murmur, too, and turned ckly toward them. “ Devils! you threaten me, too? Who = raise his voice on this vessel against my OBAPTER ITI. TO THE RESCUE! THatT I may present to you, dear reader, the hero of my romance, at a timo before the brand of buccaneer was upon his brow, I revert to the past, when life hold for him honorable as- gr and ambitious hopes which cruel Des- dragged down into the dust, and stained with ignominy a pfoud and noble name. One pleasant afternoon, two years or more before the opening of this romance, a large fleet of coasting vessels were swiftly sailing land Sound, and heading for between Hart’s Island and Land’s Point, which form tho entrance to the ma ¢ sheet of water known as East river, and which at the time of which I write was ae. yore b ont m account of the whirlpools, boiling surges and ra: rocks that have won the appropriate tanned Hell Gate, for, with the wild velocity of a swollen cataract, it threatened death and wreck to the seaman who dared its dangers and foaming caldrons. As the far Stretching fleet approached the ass the numerous sails drew closer and closer toge ther, like a flock of snowy birds seekin their cotes, and the sailors upon the differen craft could admire the beauty of the graceful Sra pw pth s, bea express their joy or re- et ai 8 as they glided ahead 53 i of some rival. re 4 the van was a large and ceful brig, oarrying clouds of canvas and eedity oniniag upon the fleet; from forecastle to truck a mass of canvas towered aloft; even her flying royal was set, so anxious was her skipper to hold bis own with the scores of vessels in her wake, and all of which were striving hard to lead the way. ack. with heavy mainsails and top- Sails spread to the breeze, coasters with all set that would draw, and and small schoon- ers extending their wide broad sheets, strug- _ The Chevalier Corsair. 3 giled for the pocterz for night was coming on, and the merchant fleet hoped to drop anchor in the still waters of the river fronting the city be- fore darkness should settle down upon land and sea. The breeze was steady and blew six knots to a swift sailer, though the brig in the van and one other vessel were making seven out of it, and from the way the latter, a clipper-built schooner, sped along it was evident that she would not remain long among the lagging sail- ers, for steadily had she overhauled one after the other of the convoy, leaving them astern to gallantly pass others ahead, until, finally, she gained a position near the nimble ieader of the mn. Stretched to its utmost tension the schooner’s canvas forced hér through the water at a speed that threatened to leave the brig astern, and seeing this the latter crowded on more sail as she headed for the usual channel between. the island and the main. Observing the action of the brig’s skipper the schooner shook out her topsails, and gaining rapidly entered the narrowest part of the chan- nel to windward and abeam of her, the master- ly maneuver of her commander gaining a cheer m the crews of the other vessels. Continuing to sail abreast for a short while, they approached a point where the main chan- nel wound to the left, toward the mainland, from which a reef of rocks divided it, and be- yond which was a narrow and dan: pas- never attempted by large vessels. eeping epg i the safer channel the bri threw her fleet rival again astern, by the ben in her course; but in an instant the schooner’s studding-sails were hauled in board, her flying jib was set, her fore and main sheets were haul- ed aft, and, putting her helm hard up, she sud- denly changed her course and headed for the narrow and dangerous pass between the rid of rocks and the main, as though to head the brig off before she could get through the wind- ing channel. Another cheer of admiration, even joined in by the crew of the brig, greeted the schooner’s daring maneuver, and then, in silence, the two beautiful vessels held on their way, leaving a snowy wake astern. After a sail of some minutes the two craft in approached each other, at the point where the rocky pass and the open channel met; the schooner now was half a length ahead, and pnwieg. boldly forward as though intending to cross the bows of her rival and run her a A This maneuver was observed with consider- able alarm, not only by the crew of the brig but by a gentleman an young girl who stood upon the quarter-deck, and nm admiring the golden beauty of the afternoon, and racing of the many vessels. The gentleman and the maiden wére passen- io on the brig, from Boston and bound to ew York, and were Don Henrico Enderos, a Southern planter of Spanish descent, and his lovely daughter, Edna, on their way to their home in the South, after afew months of travel in the Eastern States. ‘* Captain, & Geng! bold craft will surely fall afoul of us if he steers that course,” dec Don Henrico, turning to the captain of the brig, a blunt, weather-beaten man of forty, who had eyed the schooner closely, from her first appearance in sight. “No fear about him, sir, after he has had the luck to run safely through the ‘ Devil's Bite,’ where I was certain he would knock off his fore- foot; but he carried all sail like the Flying Dutchman in a gale, and he can keep his dainty craft clear of my brig’s bows,” and he resumed his gaze at the beautiful vessel, which was more like a pleasure-yacht in grace and symmetry than a craft built for service, for her hull was long, narrow, and sat low in the water, while her bows were sharp, and, extending far be- yond them, was a needle-like bowsprit. Her masts were single sticks, and her square fore and mainsails were large enough for a ves- sel of double her tonnage, which was about a.) er jib and flying-jib, | hundred tons, and with and gaff topsails, it was evident that she was built for speed rather than burden. Upon her decks every rope was coiled and in perfect place; only half a dozen seamen were visible, and they stood idly leaning over her high bulwarks and gaaing upon the brigt She carried no colors, and upon her quarter- deck were seen two young men, evidently offi- cers, for they were in undress uniform. The elder of the two held the wheel, and had been the pilot who had managed his vessel in so mas- terly a manner, As Edna Enderos turned her eyes upon the helmsman she observed that he was a tall, slen- der young man, with broad shoulders, and a form that denoted both strength and activity, while his face was dark, exceedingly handsome, and fearless in a degree that denoted reckless ng. Toteiakel in watching the officers and crew of the strange and beautiful schooner, all mo- mentarily forgot on the brig the danger that threatened, until Don Henrice ealled out sud- denly: He will dare to attempt crossing our bows, captain.’ t was evident that the skipper thought so now, for he called out in ringing tones: “Laff! luff, I say! or we will run you down!” The young helmsman smiled, waved his hand, and held steadily on his course, while the cap- tain shouted: ‘* Blast their timbers, ’'ve a mind to cut their a craft in two.” “But the brig’s danger, captain,” said Don Henrico. * ‘*That’s it; but I'll hold on a little yet.” The two vessels were now nearing each other sre and it was certain that, if one or the- er did not change its course, a collision was inevitable. Seeing this Don Henrico cried: **Captain, I beg you to change your course, or both vessels will go down.” eS The in saw that in a moment more it would be too late, glanced at the smiling and daring y helmsman, and well knew that- there was no back downin him; then he shouted in Bes tones to the man at the brig’s wheel: “Hard! hard up, hard! Cast off the weather-~ braces! Let fly everything!” The brig slowly swung off from the wind, with the bows landward, and just in time, or. the two vessels would have come together; but it was clear that the schooner’s daring helms- man had 6 ted this move on the part of the brig’s captain, for he put the schooner in the wind’s eye and laid her alongside the merchant craft with a skill and precision that won admiration from all, and in an instant the two craft were locked together fore and aft. Springing from the bows of his vessel into the main-chains of the brig, the schooner’s com- mander saluted the merchant captain politely, smiling pleasantly when the latter said: “You are a skillful seaman, young man, but I would like to know by what right you board my vessel in the manner you have done?’ ‘In a word you shall know, my dear captain; ou have on a@ prisoner, a man under eath sentence, and who is to be executed the day after his arrival in New York?” “T have, sir; but, how does that interest you, may I ask?” “Simply that I have been in chase of you since leaving Boston, to take that prisoner out of your keeping,” was the calm reply. “ Never, sir! That man was placed in == charge as a Government prisoner, and I not yield him up,” angrily replied the merchant tain. ee But ou must, my dear captain,” was the firm response. “* Never, sir.” ‘We shall see, captain.” ‘** Ay, thatshall we see. Ho! men to the res- cue, for we have been boarded by a pirate,” and the captain’s voice rung out loud and clear, while the dozen men upon the brig rushed aft ta aid their commander. CHAPTER IV. RUNNING A DEATH GANTLET, “Ho, men! to the rescue here! A pirate! a pirate!” again called outthe merchant captain, and his crew at once answered by a shout anda rush aft, while Don Henrico placed his arm around Bana, as though to defend ber with hig life; but, though her face whitened at this fear- ful discovery the brig’s commander had made, she showed no other sign of fear. Though the brig’s men were evidently bent on resistance, and their captain stood at bay, a pistol leveled at the heart of the daring young man who had just been branded as a pirate, the schooner’s chief stood calm and fearless, a smile even hovering upon his handsome face, until he- saw that it really was the intention cf the sail- ors to attack him; then his voice rung out in stern, commanding tones: ** Hold! Though apparently unarmed, and alone upon an enemy’s deck, when the stern order was spoken, and but one word left his lips, the crew that were pressing upon him obeyed instantly, and with a quiet smile the young man then added ; * Do not crowd me, lads, for one word from me will bring thirty gallant sea-dogs, from the hold of yonder schooner, who will not see me roughly dealt with.” Then he once more turn- ed to the brig’s skipper: ‘*Captain, I made a request of you, and now I demand the state prisouerto whom I referred; will you surrender him to me cefully, for I dislike to use harsh means, and yet I will take ‘*Men, he has no one to back him, other than the half-dozen you see, so overboard with him! and the captain made a move as though to carry. out his intention, when, with a nimble ring, the young sailor placed *is back a the ®ulwarks, his hands were thrust into tha bosom of his shirt and returned with pistols in em and a long, shrill whistle resounded from ips. ‘“* Back! don’t crowd me, or I will kill you! The threatening command was for the brig’s skipper pressed forward, his men weap
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at his back; when instantly a sharp re fol- lowed, a heavy fall of a body upon the deck, and with shouts and stamping feet, over a. score of are | young seamen bounded upon the brig, driving its crew back as before an irresistible avalanche, A few shots were fired, a few elashes of steel . against steel were heard, and several human | fonms lay upon the deck, dead or dying; then silence reigned upon the scene, for the crew of the schooner had carried the brig, Bidding one of his-officers hold the deck, the schooner’s commander turned toward the cabin, | when he was suddenly confronted by Don Hen. rico and Edna, the latter pale and trembling, for so unexpectedly and suddenly had she been brought face to face with a scene of carnage, she was unnerved. fh ek rm ‘Pardon, lady,” and the dashing sailor raised his cap politely, ‘‘ for the have caused you; bub this brig holds a prize for me that | have risked much to gain; but I wil disturb you no more, and depart.” He passed into the cabin, and a moment after returned, but not alone, for he was accom- panied by a young man, a few years his senior, with a dark, foreign face, striking appearance, but pale, haggard look. * ith heavy irons upon ankles and wrists the risoner walked with difficulty; bnt, aided by wo seamen, he was soon upon the schooner’s deck. ‘Once more the young captain turned to Don Henrico and Edna—the former bending over the dead body of the brig’s skipper, whe had been the first to fall in the ray. “Now, lady, adieu, and again I ask pardon for the fright I have,given you.” The young girl made no reply, but Don Hen- fico said, sternly: “You have run your neck into the hang- man’s noose, sir, by this day’s work.” “It may be, sir; I wanted no bloodshed, but it was forced upon me, and now I must take the consequences, be they what they may,” and, raising his cap, he turned and bounded upon his r own deck. ; t The schooner was now in a dangerous posi- tion, as the entire fleet of vessels astern, sur- mising trouble to the brig, were either hastening to the rescue, or lying to and landing boats filled with armed men, i ‘‘Up with the flag, union down!” cried the - mate of the briy, as the schodner’s captain left ' his deck, and the signal of distress was answer- f ed by loud shouts from the crews of the other vessels. “Cast her clear!” came in the trumpet tones + of the young captain, as his foot touched his quarter-deck, and once more he sprung to the wheel. “‘All clear, sir!” sung out an officer, and as the schooner swung off from the wind, every brace and sheet was hauled close, and the obe- dient vessel shot under the brig’s stern. ** We cannot run back, sir, through the fleet, for there are half a hundred boats in the water | to intercept us,” and the second officer of the - schooner A to the hostile demonstrations of the flee __ You are right, and we cannot weather the head of the reef and run back as we came, be- yond the ledge; but we can venture yonder _Trocky pass,” was the coal rejoinder, and the commander pointed to a deep, narrew opening » — through two huge rocks, gnifl leadtng from the _ main channel into the dangerous one he had so fully run in-his chase of the brig. ° ‘ 4 It isa desperate chance, sir,” declared the | Tieutenant. 4, “ Desperate indeed, but not hopeless, and if » \ the wind holds good, and the schooner knows 4 h Nps her danger, we will just make it, and no more,” eee is not a foot to spare on either side, *T know it, but I shall risk it, for once back into that channel we can show the boats our heels,” and the young captain turned a search- ing glance around him, which revealed the fact . that the whole fleet was now bent upon the cap- _ ture of the schooner, all realizing the desperate and that if the not A peo back through the boats, they must run on through Hell Gate to the city, where, if hot - hase were given, the forts would scent danger _ and bring the daring craft to or sink her. “Haul taut every bowline and brace, until ‘they are like harp-strings! Give not an inch of ‘play! ry man throw his weight to leeward! all?’ called out the young com- ; and when his orders were ebeyed, and _ the schooner was dashing along swiftly, and between the rocks, he added, calmly: ie -_ * Now, good eraft, do your duty, for we ean de no more for onal thing of life, and fully realizing danger the rovers were in, jae though a danger, the schooner held unswervingly on er OC bo t ted for the x she fall off a point the { rum “T see it; we must fight our way | beats er put mY | by the city. Stand b ies A Tett his lips the wind, as ) But, as the words though to aid the daring young rover, freshen- | | ed a little, and a cheer ‘burst from the crew as | the needle-like bowsprit once more pointed | through the dangerous pass. All held their breath to await the result, for a minute more | | would seal the schooner’s fate. And then came the instant of awful suspense, | the second which would decide all. Even the hoats paused to watch the result; but the firm hand on the wheel gave no tremor, the eyes | never flinched:—the graceful schooner shot | through the gantlet of death, the ragged rock to leeward just scraping her hull! From her decks arose an exultant shout; the sails were freed to the breeze, and like a fright- | ened deer the beautiful craft bounded away to- | ward the open sound, while the disappointed pursuers poured volleys of musketry and oaths | upon her as she swept along with a flowing | sheet, saved by the skill and daring of her gal- | lant commander; but what misery had not that | one deed laid up for him in coming years? ! Let the sequel show. CHAPTER V. THE RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL. Tre waters of Boston Bay were unruffled | even by the shadow of a breeze, and numerous vessels ‘‘homeward bound,” from the stately cruiser to the chebacca boat of the humble fish- erman, were idly resting upon the mirror-like surface, which reflected in its deep depths ever ‘spar, sail and rope, and the dark green islands did |- that here and there dotted the calm bosom of the deep. : A golden sunset illumined the scene and cast gorgeous hues over water and sky, and rays of silver, purple and gold were reflected from the domes, towers and spires of the distant city, from which came, lazily floating over the wa- ters, the din of traffic, the rattle of wheels and iron hoofs upon the stony pavement. Some’ of the fleet, left motionless upon the waters by the dying of the wind, had their sails brailed up, hanging in festoons from the yards, while fe let them hang to catch the first breath of the welcome breeze. Among the numerous vessels thus lazily | drifting upon the bosom of the rippleless bay, | were a large lean-hulled sloop-of-war, bearing the stains of long and rude buffetings with the waves and winds, and a rakish-looking schoon- er, whose. beauty of outline attracted universal admiration from all in the fleet, and caused many comments as to her character. Her sails were stained and tattered by long | use, her hull had turned to a hue of brown, anc ) there was a general look about the craft that betokened a long and rough voyage; but this | look could not detract from her beauty of out- | line, her Jong, raking, slender masts, and a | saucy air that indicated speed and rare sea-go-:| ing qualities. pon her decks-were visible but half a dozen | men, with woolen shirts, red caps and swarthy faces that indicated their foreign nationality, and it was generally surmised that the eratt was a fruit-trader from the West Indies. | Upon the handsome sloop-of-war the schooner | created as much admiration as among the mer- | chant craft, and a young officer, who had been | watching her, as she lay a couple of cables’- | neneene astern of the cruiser, remarked: ‘* Lieutenant Sylvester, in spite of the trader . look about yonder saucy craft, I can but think | she has not always sailed under an honest flag.” | You have ex d my opinion, Nevil, and if she was lying ina port of the West Indies 1 would watch out for her, expecting to see the darkness bring half a hundred men out of her | hold,” replied the handsome young lieutenant, who was the second in command of the sloop-of- war, and he a apbeaperste the midshipman whose | suspicions ha n aroused by the rakish look of the strange vessel. A ‘*Had I not better take a boat and have a look at the saucy craft, sir?’ continued the | dashing middy. ; ‘Oh, no, Walter; we are not in the Indies now, where everything has a suspicious look, | but in the bay of. practical old Boston. Our pi- rate-hupting in southern waters has made you suspicious of every eraft you cannot see through,” answered Harold Sylvester, with a | smil . be, sir; e. : “Th may but, if yonder craft don’t mean mischief, ru give my to the ¢ap- | tain’s cook. In spite of her old sails and rig- | , and weather-stained bull, Pm confident | ‘ve seen her before, and that under full sail | getting out of the way of this good ship we now stand on,” seg be, Nevil; but she’s im an honest | trade noW it seems, and, unless she gives us | still gazing upon the d thus he stood until the hues ef sumset 5 es ah hikra ated ER ee ; | fam ! . “ The crescent moon sailed boldly into the ether, Convoyed a Ag agp st sh gp poor per Pt Whilst, wrapped in slumber p the carth ke neath her Was sleeping off the fever ef the day.” And with the coming of the goddess of night came the first ‘‘ paw” of ov breoss, sending first the vessels furthest seawareé aloag over the rippling waters, and then the others - abreast of the pyramid known as ‘‘ Nix Mate,” and thus on with those nearer shore, until che- bacca boat, pilot craft, cruiser and schooner were all moving along toward the ety, whose lamps cast a thousand glimmering rays across the waters. ‘““Now, Lieutenant Sylvester, just lock at that craft; she is walking right by us as saucily and gracefully as a Cuban belle at a Yankee ball,” called out Walter Nevil, the midshipman, as the strange schooner, catching the bre bowed to its welcome presence, and, in spite o the speed of the man-of-war, threateved soon to throw her slippers in the cruiser’s teeth. ““She’s a nimble craft, Nevil, I admit, and if she has made as good time on her cruise north ward as she does now with the breeze, her skip- per will reap a rich harvest from his cargo.” But the midshipman shook bis head dubious- ly, for he had made .up bis mind that the schooner was a suspicious visitor in a New Ka- | gland harbor, and he kept his eye be i even after she passed the castle ahea cruiser, and dropped anchor in an open wa: free from the other crafts around, as though not wishing to be crowded, Still gazing, as though fascinated by the wea- ther-stained but beautiful craft, and his own misgivings, Walter Nevil saw the schooner come to anchor with sails still set, and a few moments after beheld a small boat leave her side and row shoreward. And the occupant in this boat, for it contain- ed but one person, with an author’s prerogative we will follow. Had Midshipman Walter Neyil been able to follow the little yaw] to an old ruined pier at the foot of tek Hill and see the persom who sprung ashore, he would indeed have had ceuse for suspicion, for he was no West Indian sailor with dark brows, swarthy face and seaman’s dress, but a tall, well-formed man, wearing a heavy cloak and a slouch hat that shadowed his face completely. After climbing the abrupt bank, he came to the burying grad, that covers the whole hill top, and entered it by a stile, for the path he fol- lowed wound among the graves to the open space beyond. As though unawed by the presence of the dead, he stood and gazed around him, first at the | arden and then at the moonlit scene of sail-dotted harbor and lighted town—the dis- tant hills and meadows northward, and Bunker Hill cen aloft to the left, the low fields to the westward, with the Charles river, wind like a silver belt around them, and to the sou the village of Dorchester:—all these, scenes to bis eyes in childhood, came under his me dimly. ith a sigh he turned away to continue hie walk, when involuntarily he started, and ped his hand upon a weapon beneath his as a white form, looking weird-like and ghostly in the moonlighk, arose before him, But a glance showed-him that it was a young ay ne in anges igor a with the moon- i alling upon her pale face Soevies she h din her hand, Sasa lg sata “Pardon me, lady, for I meant not to disturb ag at the grave of some loyed one, and searee- : peepee to find the livifig here among the He spoke in a low tone, but his words caused the maiden to start, and then spring toward him, as though to throw herself into his arms} but, erage wd impulse, she cried: ‘Ob, why have you come here to this sacred spot, Victor De Lisle?” “Great God! Marian Dalton!” The words wrung from him, rather than uttered, and h h . De emed v ; é yer reg © raised his hands to his head “Yes, Victor De Lisle, lam Marian D. . and I stand by the grave of my father,” said, sadly, and he stood an instant in silence, ‘and then answered with touching pathos: Your father dead, Marian? knew ‘him not, but for your sake I mourn hima, though : feel that my own deeds have driven me out ef your heart forever,” Ay, Vietor De Lisle, forever, for I can feel no love for you when a grave is Aetween us—a Brae you made, for your hand took my father’s “Nol ne! no! . i father and ¥ never met ee Oe YOR , for you shot down beca tempted to defend the peteoner nttviated en iis eare, - that act © you an outlaw from yee ay ond bas ed you with the name Oh God! bitter is this blow, that vow falls tee nae welght upon me! Bus 5 ? 4 .* ess w= eoeescs cg — > hee ~
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d ae : t nad ee S = 3 eg Be 5 8 2 = PP a er EO a _— ta, |. — >. a ae oe SSeS oF SHEE « ? BA SAGES PF re | z above your father’s ashes, Mariau, here, upon this sacred t, I swear to you that I Sailing tarts that A cP E cd of the brig was your father—” ‘Ho ‘‘Hear me, Marian: I gave chase to the brig, not even knowing her name, but aware that she held Conrado tello a prisoner on board, doomed to die. I sought to gain him without force, but was attacked, and in self-defense [ fired You know the rest, and I know now, Marian, that my dream of love is over forever, for I had hoped against hope that you had re- membered me in my wanderings, and had not, as others have done, branded me as-a pirate, and thus hoping I sought this spot once more, at the risk of my life, and was going to your home yonder over the hill, longing to see you, and also up to North Square to see the old home once more, and look again upon my father’s face; but alas! Marian, all hope goes from me now, and I dare not even ask your forgive- ness,” “T forgive you, Victor, but I can never for- get; fron) the day you fired the fatal shot that placed rny poor father here, our paths in life aivided, for how can his slayer ever be aught to me? -‘“My poor, poor father, after three long years’ voyage in foreign seas, came home again, merely touching at Boston to land the mail, and receive passengers, and then stood on for New York to meet his doom at your hand—the hand I believed and hoped was to lead me through life; but I dare not now dwell on the st, Victor, and the future holds for me no pe, only sorrow. Farewell, and let it be a last farewell.” She held forth her hand to prove she had for- sir him, but he dared not trust himself to uch it, and with a smothered groan he walked rapidly away, and watching him she saw him disappear in the gloom of distance. A walk of some minutes, mechanically find- ing his way, for with bowed head he seemed | overwhelmed with grief, brought Victor De Lisle to a grand mansion, surrounded by large, ornamental grounds. Entering the gate he ascended the steps and turning the knob found the door was open, and he stepped into the dimly-lighted hall. Cau- tiously he crossed to tae other end, to pause be- fore a door, as though dreading to enter; but summoning up courage he turned the knob, and softly entered. It was a large, handsomely-furnished room and upon all sides rested an air of luxury and comfort; a lamp burned upon a center-table and, seated in an easy-chair reading, was an old man, with gray hair and dignified ing. ‘Ts that you, Mabel?” asked the old gentle- man, without rer his eyes from his book. ‘*No, father, it is I, your unhappy son.” With tags 4 old ‘man sprung to his feet, dashing the k to the floor, and turned upon the one whose acts, a year before, had brought dishonor to his proud name, “ You are no son of mine, Victor De Lisle.” The words came slowly and distinctly, and the burning eyes were riveted upon the returned son, who stood with bowed head before his aged father in silence; but at length he cried in pleading tones: “Oh, say not that, for lam not as guilty as you believe.” : _ y, guilty you are; your hands are stained with the blood uf the father of the woman you adap to love; you are branded as an out- w, a murderer, ay, and worse—a pirate.” “No, no, no, father! I am not rhat! An ou Iam, a murderer if so you will it, but L gail under no pirate flag, for I am a commander in the Carthagenian navy.” “A navy of outlaws, another name for piracy . ~ha! here comes your sister to witness your shame, and point the finger of scorn upon you.” A light step was heard without, the door swung open, and a young and beautiful A aavhe peared in ri oorway, and, at sight of 1, cloaked f pia: back, while the white- _ haired old father, in ringing tones, cried: ‘Mabel, my poor child, there stands your pi- vate brother |” —~—e CHAPTER VI. A FATHER’S CURSE, For a moment Mabel De Lisle stood like a statue, pale, staring, silent, while her father inted scornfully toward his son, and repeated is words: ‘There stands your pirate brother!” She shrunk back, as though in dread, but, noticing the look of that crossed the dark handsome face, and sezing his outstretched arms, she sprung toward him, crying: ; **No, no, father! Victor has never become as bad as that, and he never can.” ““God bless you, sister, for those words!’ mein choking tones from the brother, and, infolding her in his strong arms, he imprinted a kies upon ber forehead, and said: ‘* Bless you for not shrinkin from mé, Mabel, after all the dishonor the world bas put upon my name, ' , The Chevalier Corsair. 5 condemned to die, I was branded as ae outlaw | —ay, as a pirate; but, I meant only te tale bim out of the clutches of the law and save his life from the gallows, for I did not believe him guilty of the murder of which be was accused.” ‘* And yet, the law so decided him to be, sir,” said his father, sternly. ‘*The law has hanged many an innocent man, sir; I admit that circumstances pointed strong- ly to Conrado as the murderer of Professor e, after the quarrel they had; but, my | friend was a Mexican, in a foreign land; public opinion was hard against him; he was sentenced | to death; and, determined not to let him die, I my own yacht, manned her with sdme | gallant spirits, and took him off the brig, but, unfortunately, not without bloodshed, though I only acted in self-defense, ‘* That act sent me a wanderer upon the seas, and I cast my lot, my sword, and my vessel with the Carthagenians, and yet am hunted down and branded as a pirate by my own coun- trymen—ay, by my own father!” ‘Yes, Iso brand you, for you are no son of mine!” came from the white lips of the old man. “Father! father! say not so, I entreat you, | for I came here this night, at the risk of my life, to see you and Mabel; ay, disguised my vessel as a trading-schooner, and ran into port to find, alas! that it was Captain Dan Dalton who had commanded the brig, and to hear from Marian’s own lips, and at the very grave of her father, that I was his murderer. | ‘*Oh, have pity upon me, father, and cast me | not era out of your heart!” ‘And I implore you, too, father,” said. Ma- | bel, with pleading voice and look, still clinging | to her brother. **Never! You are no son of mine, sir, and more, I bestow upon you a father’s curse.” ** No, no, no!” ‘I say yes! Go! Leave this roof, forever; and go at once, or I will be tempted to call the | police and turn you over to them as a pirate.” ‘Father, listen to me, I implore you!” and Mabel threw herself before the stern old man. ‘*Not one word willl hear! Go, sir, or I will call for help, and never stretch forth a hand to save you from the gallows.” A look of intense pain passed over the face of the unfortunate son, and he said, in a low tone: ‘““Your duties as judge, sir, would doubtless cause you to sign my death-sentence for iracy ; but, though I fear not death in battle, [ shrink from it in ignominy, and worse still, from allow- ing a father to condemn his own son to die ; but I forgive you, sir, as you are the author of my being, and now I bid you forever farewell.” He turned sadly away, but Mabel sprung into his arms with a low moan, and her weight pare to him that she had fainted. He laid er upon a sofa, kissing her white, upturned face once, twice, thrice. ‘ A moment after he had gone from the home of his boyhood, and in an hour after his fleet schooner was flying out of the harbor of Boston, while her crew were working like beavers, tak- ing down the dingy sails and rigging new, and baat ap bro canvas coverings from off the black hull, which had so disguised the beautiful craft. “An outcast, indeed, from home, land, and the hearts of my kindred,” nag the unhapp young sailor captain, as he leaned over the tat fail, and bebeld the lights of Boston swiftly fading from his vision. CHAPTER VIL THE HUNCHBACK’S CAPTIVE. ‘* Save me, sir, oh save me!” The cry in a woman’s voice, and musical in tone, though raised in dire alarm, rung out in the evening air, for the gray twilight was deep- ening into darkness, and obscuring the streets of New Orleans, to which the scene of my story now changes, on the last day of the fantastic and merry ‘‘ Carnival,” which from time imme- morial has gladdened the hearts of the denizens of that strange city in the land of the orange and the cane, The one from whose lips broke the pleading ery for help was a pian onl, with white, scared face, and large, startled eyes fixed upon the masked visage of a man of huge stature, who held her firmly in his strong arms, as be fled toward the river, where was dimly visible a boat, or barge, containing half a dozen swarthyoarsmen. | Behind this flying personage, and his fair captive, for such she seemed, ran an individual of short, stout form, massive head, bunch back, and face also masked, while in stern, angry tones he urged his companion forward, for he saw that the call of the maiden had attracted the attention of the merry throng that tramped the streets, singing, laughing, and making the night ring with their joyous voices, for the car- nival time was upon them, and old and young, rich and poor, the citizens had turned out en aoe to indulge in pleasure to their heart’s con- sh) has | and one glance into her face proved she was not th the merry sounds upon all tion if would have done at another time, and those who heard it, with one exeeption, looked upon it as the wild freak of some lover, bearing his sweetheart away in his arms, while her pleading for succor was looked upon as feigned. But that one exception caught sight of the pdle, frightened face, and heard the angry or- der of the hunchback: ‘On! on, I say, or all will be lost in the mo- ment of success. ‘““Save me, sir, oh save me!” pleaded the maiden, as she beheld a tall man wearing a heavy ctoak, and completely masked, pause, glance at her and her captors, and then hesitate, as though undecided what to do, But ber words reached his ears distinctly, a willing captive. Instantly he sprung for- ward and confronted the man who bore her, saying, firmly: ‘**Pardon, monsieur, but this lady claims my protection, and you must release her.” An angry curse arose to the man’s lips, but without direct reply he would have passed on, when he was seized in a grasp of iron, bis arms ; torn apart, and the maiden slid quickly to the ground with a fervent exclamation of joy at | her escape. ‘* Sefior, attend to this iron-handed fiend, and I will recover the lady,” cried the discomfited man, appealing to the hunchback, who sudden- + ly sprung forward with a cry of rage and aim- ed a blow with a sword directly at the head of the daring rescuer. ; But the stranger raising his arm, holéing a | short blade in hand, skillfully parried the stroke, and at the same time sent bis fist into the masked face of his deformed assailant with a force that sent him reeling to the earth, Then, with the spring of a tiger be was upen the man who had again seized the maiden, and hurled him upon the ground witb an exhibition of strength that was remarkable, and elicited a round of bravas from the gay crowd that had gathered around, and who seemed to still took upon the whole affair as a part of the periorm- ance of Carnival time, which allowed licenses not to be tolerated under any other circum- stances. ; Rising quickiy to his feet the hunchback again confronted the stranger, and said in fierce tones, though he made nv eflort to attack m: ‘‘ How dare you interfere with me, monsieur, in my innocent amusement?” “By the right to protect that maiden, who claimed it of me,” was the calm reply. ig “It was but a joke, and for your interference you shall answer.” “So be it, sir: here is my card, and I am al- ways answerable for my actions,” and tbe stran-' ger placed a card in the hunchback’s hands, the crowd standing by and watching all with interest. ‘*Oh, sir, I have you into trouble, for this man is a very devil when aroused,” and the oung girl, whom now all saw was beautiful in ~ ta and form, and trembling visibly, approach- ed and laid her hand upon the arm of him who had befriended her. \ ain ‘‘T eare not if he be Satan bimself, though I~ regret having mistaken your cry for one of real ‘It was, sir, acry for your aid, as thatman and his deans took advantage of Carnival — time to take me by force from my home; but I recovered consciousness and removed the mask from my face and cried out, and to yeulowe more than words can ever thank you for.” 77 “The girl is mad; it was but a joke, and, monsieur, you will regret this night’s work,” — said the hunchback, with er apse passion, | and he stepped toward the maiden, adding: __. “Now come with me, Edna, or it will be the worse for you.” . But the maiden shrunk from his touch, and turned quickly to her preserver, saying, im- ploringly: ai _ “Oh, do not let him take me, sir,” : ‘What right has he to demand that you go with kim?” ae “Oh, do not ask me, do not ask me; only — save me from him,” was the piteous answer, “T will,” and turning te the hunchback, he ~ continued: ale “This lady is under my protection, sir, andif | you value that hideous torm of yours youwill | stand aside and let us pass.” fap : The allusion to his deformity seemed to drive the hunchback to frenzy, and again be sprung forward with drawn sword, a shriek upon he lips, as though the insult had transformed bim_ into a madman. ; p But he was met as before with a parry of his blow, and once more was hurled “ the earth with a force that stunned him, for he lay as oue’ + dead, while his comrade sprung forward ard” knelt by bis side, seemingly not anxious te is fallen friend. pie ley * Now, lady, I will conduct ee "Ee * home: stan
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6 CHAPTER VIII. THE CREOLE BELLE. IN one or the most palatia] old mansions the Rue St. Luis, in New Orleans, and a few weeks prior to the scane that opens this story, a gentleman of noble and striking appearance paced the floor of his elegantly-furnished room, a look of joy upon his face. Without, a storm was raging, and only a few wayfarers, drawn from their homes by stern necessity or duty, to face the pelting rain, were seen upon the streets, while within all was lux- ury and comfort, and the dignified occupant of the room paced to and fro, seemingly content with himself and the world in general. ““Yos,” he murmured, “‘I feel, I know that he is dead, and the iron has gone out of my hvart forever. “But ah! what have I not suffered in all vhese years, hiding that dread secret, and Yreading that the vowsI then made would one lay have to be co but, thank God, the time fas ane by when he was to come, and I know by that that he is dead, rather than by the vaths of the paid wretches who have told me they put him out ef the way; but, oh God! should he not be dead,” and a livid hue crossed the face of the speaker, as though a dread of some great terror had risen before his vision; his lips remained firm set for awhile, and until broken in their sternness by a light laugh. “Ha! ha! ha! the pone of the past, and expectant specters of the future, make a cow- ard of me, and imagination brings up before me anticipations of evils that cannot come, for he sleeps in his grave. Ha! ha! ha! a grave with not one, not even a mother, to drop upon it one pitying tear. But I must smooth these troubles m my face, for I hear Edna’s footstep on the stairs,” and crossing the room, a smile upon his lips, he’ greeted a maiden, who just then crossed the threshold, and whose radiant beauty would have made glad the heart of an anchorite. Though scarcely sixteen, if quite that age, Edna Enderos was possessed of an exquisite face and form that drove mad with envy the belles in her social circle, and caused men to bow down in almost adoration to her loveli- ess, And as beautiful in character as in person, an heiress to the vast wealth of her father, and just across the threshold of womanhood, it was no wonder that she was the belle of the Creole City, and was sought by beaux innumerable. Proud of his beautiful child Henrico Enderos certainly was, and the descendant of a Spanish ndee himself, it was whisperel in the clubs t the father intended his daughter should be- come the wife of one of Spain’s nobles only though he had for years lived in America, and called himself an American. Whatever the views of the father regarding Edna might be, they did not discourage the gallants of the Crescent City, and handsome young planters, rich bankers and wealthy Cre- oles sought untiringly to win favor in the mai- den’s eyes, and gain the consent of the beauty and heiress to cast aside the plans of her am- bitious parent, and dwell in the sunshine of their love. But, up to the time of the opening of my ro- mance, Edna Enderos had shown no preference though she had flirted, waltzed, and encourag all of her admirers, yet kept her own heart says free. **Kdna, my child, it is too stormy to venture out to-night, so we will have to content our- selves at home, for which Iam not sorry,” and “Dor Henrico, as he was called, kissed his daughter upon her for-head, and led her toa seat. ‘“Noram I sorry, father, for an evening at home alone with you is a rarity I cannot but -enjoy, as I am ennuied with society and the flattery of men.” **Can you blame men, Edna, for telling you the truth/—for you are indeed the most beauti- ~fal woman, child though you be in years, in the entire city of New Orleans,” said her father, with enthusiastic admiration. > ‘Spare me, father, I implore you, for I do not wish to have to say with Ceesar, ‘And thou, too, Brutus!” laughed the beauty, assbe turned ani took upa Spanish guitar, running her fin- gers idly, yet skillfully across the strings. **You will have time to sing me a song, Ed- na, before tea is announced,” said Don Hen- rico, and, gvithout reply, she broke forth into the ‘*‘ Pirate’s Serenade,” her voice, rich, melo- “dious and cultivated, ringing through every of the house. “That is a stirring air, my child, yet it is strange that you so like it, when it dwells upon , piracy,” observed the Don, when she had fin- ed. “Tt is my favorite, strange as it may seem, father, for I like its wild, reckless tone, and pirate though he be, I could admire one who wouid woo me in the same fearless, bold man- ‘Why, Edna! could you love a man you deemei a criminal?” asked her father, in a tone of surprise, and of slight displeasure. ‘Ob, no, never a criminal, father, for a man must be indeed noble to win my regard; but, I could admire a bold, free rover who risked his life for gold he did not care for, and who had \ The Chevaiier Corsair. not in his bosom a cruel heart, and could pity him for the sorrows and wrongs that had driven him to piracy,” she answered, with considerable feeling. ‘* And, admiration and pity lead to love, Ed- na; beware!” answered her father. “True, but then I need no warning, father, for the days of buccaneering are drawing toa close, and ere long the seas will not be shadowed by the flag of the free rover; but, come, Jacques has announced tea,” and, slipping her tiny hand into her father’s arm, she led the way into the supper-room, little dreaming that her idle words might prove anything but a jest, for, already, around her young life shadows were creeping to shape her destiny as Fate might direct, so “There's a divinity that shapes our ends Rough hew them how we will,”’ “There isa man in the parlor to see you, sefior,” and Jacques, the major domo of the En- deros mansion, looked into the ore -room. ‘*Who is it?’ quietly asked the Don. **T know not, sefior.” * Ah, he is not one of our friends, then? but, I forget, you said aman, and not a gentleman.’ “Yes, sefior, a man, and yet one who has the face and form of a devil, for he is deformed and hideous to look upon.” Don Henrico had risen to his féet, but, at the words of Jacques he sunk back in his chair, his face white, his eyes staring, and his lips trem- bling, while he said, in a husky voice: ‘““A deformed body, and a hideous face, did you say?” ‘* Yes, sefior,” answered Jacques, in surprise at the emotion of his master, while Edna, in alarm, arose and approached her father. * Oh, God! at last! at last!” and Don Henrico dropped his head upon the table, completely overcome with emotion. CHAPTER IX. THE DEFORMED FOR. ALARMED at the deep emotion exhibited by her father, and seeming to recognize who it was that had called, Edna Enderos turned and asked, anxiously: ‘Father! father, tell me what has so deeply moved you?” i ‘Do not ask me, my child,” groaned the on. ‘* Jacques, go and tell that person, whoever or whatever he may be, that my father desires not to see him,” said Edna. ‘Hold! do not tell him that, or—or—tell him I will see him at once; and, Jacques, mark well his face and form, aud tell me of him when you return, for his coming has unnerved me, as I believed bim dead, and he is very dear to me.” Apparently both Edna and Jacques were sat- isfied with this explanation, and the latter left the room while made an effort to comfort her father. Exerting his powerful will, and evidently de- termined to face whatever fate held in store for him, Don Henrico arose and threw off all signs of emotion, $o that when the servant returned he was himself again, and asked, calmly: a“ Well?” ‘He is, as I said, sir, a very devil to look at, but his voice is as soft as a woman’s, and his feet and hands are beautiful, as are also his eyes— ‘‘Itis the one I believed dead. Asked he to see Don Henrico Endercs?”’ “Yes, sefor; he said, tell the Don an old and esteemed friend has risen from his grave and come to visit-him.” “Hal! did I not say 1 believed him dead? You see now, Edna, and you, too, Jacques, that I had cause to be deep! moved; brandy here, sir!” and Don Henrico Gashed off a glass half- full of brandy, and, removing all traces of emo- tion from his face, he walked out of the room smiling, and apparently unmoved by the com- ing of a visitor he had neither expected nor desired to see. In the parlor, standing in the glare of the wax tapers in the massive chandelier, and ing at a portrait upon the wall, a woman’s face set within a handsome frame, was the individual whose coming had so moved Don Henrico. What bis age was were hard to tell, for he might be, as {rdged by bis black hair, unwrin- kled face and bright de hardly twenty, and yet there was a4 look of sternness in the huge mouth, whose thick lips failed to hide the fangs, rather than teeth, that indicated perhaps two- score years and five bad passed over his head. And such a head! as large asa giant’s, square, and set upon broad shoulders, deformed by a huge hump upon the back that almost destroyed all semblance of human shape. And yet his deformed body and short, stout legs were richly clothed in fashionable attire, | in its and in his shirt front gleamed a ruby pin, while ; a pearl of rare beauty was upon the little finger of his left hand. His feet, incased in well-fitting boots, his hands, small and shapely, his his com- a and yt aces tes the redeem- ng points to upen in strange man, while his voice, as he spoke aloud to himself and gazed upon the it, was melodious in its softness, though it had a disagreeable ring awaken his fierce anger. ‘The face of the one who was once all the world to me, and the artist has done his work well, for he has egg nr every beauty it pos- sessed, even to the exquisite neck and shoul- ders,” he said, in his soft, harmonious tones. ‘* But,” he suddenly and fiercely broke out, ‘the artist could not portray the false heart rar geo tice ge ane m, nor ne devil hontel that ange ! he comes, the grandee 0’ Spain, who gave up his home beyond the seas to come here and dwell among free Americans,” and he turned to the door, a sinister smile rest- ing be his hideous mouth. ‘Ah, Don Henrico, I greet you after man long years,” he said, quietly, as the host enter the room, pale, yet unmoved in appearance, * Yes, it is a surprise I neither expected nor wished,” was Don Henrico’s calm reply. ‘* You seem unmoved by my presence. I had expected to see your face whiten, your limbs tremble, when you saw me.” ‘*No, for I knew whom I was to see.” “Ah! and how, pray?’ ** My servant descri earth held but one such.” The severe shot at the man’s deformity went. straight home, for the hideous face grew black with passion, while he said in deep, hoarse tones: ‘* Henrico, had I held in my heart for you one atom of mercy that might have caused me to spare you, your words have banished it, and as Lazarus saw Dives in hell, so could I see yor there without one pang of pity.” Don Henrico seemed to mec the passion he had aroused, for he said quickly: “T meant not to offend, Iva, though God knows I would have no mercy from you, were I to tell you that you were an angel in face, and an Se o in form.” ‘Why should you expect mercy from me, Henrico?” **T expect none, and I feel now that you will prove yourself the devil you appear,” was the calm rejoinder. ‘*And why should I not? I bargained with you twenty years ago, offering inducements which you accepted, and in return for vast wealth, a proud name, anda beautiful bride, I received from you vows, which you were to keep when I demanded payment, eighteen years after date. Those vows you gave, believing that their demand for payment would never come, for you mentally swore that I should ne- ver live to see them “fe and, Don Henrico, it is not your fault that 1 now stand before you, for well I know the plots you have arranged, and the gold you have given, to have me die by an assassin’s hand, But your hirelings were thwarted, and I have come to see that your vows are kept. Are you prepared to keep them?” “Oh God, have mercy!” and Don Henrico tottered to a seat and buried his face in his hands, whije his whole form trembled with the emotion he could not control. And, gazing down upon him, a —— litter of triumph in his dark eyes, stood the Hunch- back, unpitying and unmerciful, for, after twenty long years, his day of retribution had come, CHAPTER X. DON HENRICO’S TREBLE VOW. For a few moments Ivan the Hunchback, as he had been known in the past, stood ng at the man whom his presence had so bint and the triumphant smile upon his lips turn into a sneer, as, at last, he said in his low, me- lodious tones: ‘* Well, Don Henrico, my presence has shaken even your proud, ambitious and callous heart.” ‘*Death would not have more terror for me,” broke from the lips of the Don, as he once more conquered his emotion and sprung to his feet. with flashing eyes. “T believe you, Henrico, for you fear death less than the loss of the wealth that makes life worth the living; you were always a luxurious fellow, and your were the same as the luxurious father you so despise for being the author of your being—” “Hold! Ivan, for the love of Heaven throw not that curse again in my teeth,” cried Don Henrico, warmly. “T must, for though the truth may be un- pleasant to your eais now and then, it has been a Lene or. tag in mine since, a wee child, my own mother turned from me in abhorrence. ** You are elegant in form, handsome in face, and can win men to you as easily as you can fascinate women, while all turn from me with ! dread and aversion; and vet, my dear Henrico, are we not the same blood?” ** Alas, too true.” ‘*Why should you bemoan that fact, m brother, for where you are godlike in form, am a devilin def rmity.” ‘* But the difference! oh! the difference, Ivan!” groaned Don Henrico, “Hal ha! you mean, that in spite of this hideous face and deformed stature of mine, which my own mother shrunk from, and my father cursed at sight, J am not basely born, you, and I knew that tone, when the face seemed suddenly te ee fe ee Ae) a eS oe | eg a a4 PeSe RB SES 1]
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———— while youare! But, brofher mine, you should have been the tful heir, and J the offshoot, for your face form were worthy the proud name our father bore. It plata! otherwise, and when you robbed me of the one being I loved in the world, I offered you terms—not that I loved you, but from very hate and exquisite fondness for revenge, and, biting at my bait, you were caught, and now I have you just where I want you.” ** And you will use the power you hold over ? ef . ‘Hal hal sown 25 that would be strange!” ‘ Have you no pity—no mercy to one of your own blood” sid gi “One of my own blood indeed!” and the Hunchback spoke with deep scorn. ‘Let me see:—your mother was a mountain bandit’s daughter. Her father held our parent prisoner, awaiting rich resom, but his captive requited his hospitality !'v mating with you, brother [7 _ rico, come of that illegal mis- alliance. Bus: eugth returning to his grand eld Lome, our fuiber found his young bride had given birth to a son, myself, and oh! such @ son, such a deformed, hideous infant was I, that wy parents shrunk away; and seeing this, and knowing the stury-of the bandit’s daughter, the nurse of my mother proposed a scheme to et rid of a horror, and gold, poured out as reely as water, sent me to the mountain hovel and brought you to the palace, “Was it a wonder, Henrico, that my adopted mother clung to the secret for her child, and _ both you and I, as we grew in years, knew a “Well, you, the petted one, got the estates of our grandee Enderos, while Tt finns a youn bandit, and at last was captured and sentencec to death; but, through you I saved my life, for we both loved the same woman, the oue who looks down upon us from yonder portrait. ‘*She was my captive, and when I told her of my love she scorned me; ay, when I asked her if she could ever love me, her answer was to turn a mirror toward me. ** Tt revealed all my deformity, and her heart- lessness; but I gave herup to you, and you gave ime my liberty—but upon conditions.” ** Alas, Ivan, I know them but too well.” ** Still let me recall them, brother mine, for I came hither so to do, ** You loved to idolatry, Alita, the woman of my love; you loved equally as well your gold, and the proud name you bore, both of. which you had robbed me of, and for my revenge, inv my own good time, I swore I would give up the fair captive if you would make a treble vow.” ‘For the love of God, name them not,” groan- od the wretched Don Henrico. “For the love of reyenge, I shall name them. ‘First, you vowed, if I would yield up the Sefiorita Alita, to you, as pure as when she fell into my power, you would, in eighteen years from that date, give into my possession the off- pre of your union with the beautiful Span- “Second, you vowed by the Holy of Holies, that, if I claimed not such offspring named, you would, after eighteen years, give me back all right, title, name and estates, which in infancy I was robbed of on account of my deformity. “Third, you vowed by all that was sacred in heaven and earth, that if I claimed not the off- spring of your union with Alita, nor my title and estates held by you, and kept the secret of lee birth and mine, you would give me your ife. “The eighteen years have passed, and more, brother Henrico, and I have come to hold you to the keeping of one of those three vows; which do you thinkI will claim—your beautiful daughter who is your only child, your wealth and name, or your life ?” The Hunchback gazed unpityingly upon the man before him, who in turn s at him, his form like marble, his face rigid, and his whole hope, agony, existence, -seeeoman, gn his eyes. or some moments neither e, and neither shrunk from the other’s; then Ivan the unchback spoke mn pel ** You were @ spoilt and petted child, and sun- shine only was in your life, while I, ah! what was not my life in infancy, and what has it not beon in later years? “My title, im | agg name, my wealth, my Joved ene, wi © joys and pleasures that shoult have been mine, you have had, while I have been a mountain bandit, an outlaw, a hideous deformity, a wanderer from land to land, from sea to sea, and hunted everywhere by the hirelings of the man for whom I gave up i—hunted down to be put to death, that he ht live secure in his false name and wealth, “But I would not die; Death shunned me, that in the end I might possess one joy; that joy wiil be my revenge on you, Don Henrico, and know you will not take out of my stricken heart the one ray of sunshine it has known. **Ah, no, you will not be thus cruel, and ken-ee I have sought you now to ask you which is child, and * land of the treble vows you will keep. ‘Shalit be your daughter, your secret and mine that gives me back my wealth and estates, or your life ?” Not gather the harvest I have | | - The Chevalier Corsair. “Great God! I cannot tell,” broke from the ) ef the man. ‘* Wal hal ha!” came unfeelingly from the lips of the Hunchback, and then, his con- temptuous laughter, he said: “You cannot tell; then let me decide for you. Shall 1” ‘Tf it must be, tell me your choice,” groaned | n Henrico, ) vf Nghia you love your life most, your wealth | next, and your daughter next, and yet you idol- ize her, so what must be your affection for riches and existence? **'To take your life would be good revenge for me, and it would be a pleasure to deprive you of your riches; but to leave you both and take your daughter would be a greater joy, for I would be ates in having you sorrow for her, and in having Sar suffer with dread of an un- | known fate.” ‘*And what fate would you have for her, devil that you are?” cried Don Henrico. e tae have heard of Belmont, the Buccaneer?” | es.” ‘*T would give thy daughter to him; in fact, make her a corsair's bride.” ‘Fiend! Demon! by the God above, I'll have thy toul life, and thus rid myself and the world | of a wretch 60 vile,” and Don Henrico sprung ’ sca and clutched at the throat of the Hunch- ck, But he was sewed in a sp that caused him to groan with pain, and hurled back upon the divan from which he had sprung, half-stunned and breathless while Ivan the Hunchback said, derisively : ** Pool, try not thy strength with mine, or it will be thy life, and not thy wealth nor thy daughter, I will take.” Cowed by the exhibition of strength he had witnessed, Don Henrico remained silent, and once more the deformed spoke: ‘‘ Belmont, the Buccaneer, is a man I admire for the seas are his abiding-place, the waves and winds his delight, his crew his slaves, and he laughs to scorn the navies of the world. ‘*Men call him bandsome, and his courage none dare dispute, while ’tis said he admires a fair face and form more than most men. ‘*Though I have not seen him in all my cruis-’ ings, I now wish to meet him, for he holds cap- tive one I love—strange as it may seem in meto love. That one he will yield up, not forransom, it is said, but for a maiden of beauty surpassing that of his captive, and the only one Lhaveever seen that could boast of greater loveliness is your daughter, Don Henrico. ‘*Thus it is, that I claim the keeping of one of or three vows, and I ask you which shall it be? One look at Don Henrico would have softened a heart of stone, one would believe; yet, Ivan the Hunchback sh.wed nothing but joy in his face for the misery he witnessed in the man, in whose veins flowed the same blood as in his own. ‘* Which vow will you keep, Don Henrico?” he demanded, in his softest tones. **Oh, God, if one vow must be kept, take her, my a, my poor, poor child, for, in shame and sorrow I confess it, I love my riches—my Mtvith & cry. of guish his li th a cry of an upon wrung from his heart, Don Hanriop sun and back upon the divan, unconscious, and in deep, stern tones, Ivan the Hunchback breathed one word: * Coward !” CHAPTER XI. THE HUNCHBACK AND THE PADRE, THE swooning cry of Don Henrico run through the mansion, and reaching the ears o Edna,-who was seated in the library, quickly wien nee i cee father’s side, ms eing Don Henrico prostrate upon the divan, and the Hunchback Vndes over him, she turned with flashing eyes upon the latter, while she said, sternly: ‘“What means this outrage, sir?’ ‘There is no outrage, sweet girl; your father has heard news that has overcome, him, for, as ou see, he has swooned,” responded Ivan the unchback in tones so soft as to cause Edna to turn a second look — him, when she met his glorious eyes, now filled with assumed com sion and anxiety that thoroughly deceived her, and so fascinated her, that she failed to observe his hideous features and terrible deformity, for she said, kindly: “Forgive me, sir; alarm for my father made me hasty in my judgment.” ‘lam used to the deepest wounds from the sweetest lips,” he said, bitterly, and taking from his pocket a small vial, he placed it so that the unconscious man could inhale it. The result seemed magical, for Don Henrico breathed a long sigh, his form trembled; then his eyes onened and became fixed upon the face of the Hunchback. “*T am glad you are better, Don Henrico; rouse yourself, for your swooning has greatly alarmed your sweet daughter, here,” said Ivan, warningly. ave you told her?” gasped the Don, with oe a shudder, “Simply that you had heard news of a most 7 — painful character, and its unexpec um- nerved you,” and, turning to na, he con- tinued: “A glass of brandy, my dear girl, will fully revive him.” ~ “YT will bring it at once. Ob, father, I am happy to see you like yourself, once more,” and na hastened from the room, while the Hunch- baek sternly addressed the Don: ‘Fool! where is your nerve that you yield to a shock like a woman? Calm y , and tell her news from Spain has unmanned you— Ah, she is here.” ‘* And you will not tell her that—” ‘*] will tell her nothing. Ah, my sweet lady, this draught will make a new man of your father. Hare, Don Henrico, take this brandy, for it will give you strength.” The Don took the glass with trembling banda, but, bringing his will to his aid, ones more een- quered his emotion, dashed off the liquor, and, with an effort, rose to his feet, sa A Neg Sa “T am better, now, and fn a few days will be | able to attend to the busimess between ws, Don Ivan.” ‘‘We will say, then, one week from to-day, sefior; now, I will say adios,” and Ivan the Hunchback bowed low to Edna, glanced warn- ingly at Don Henrico, and left the room and the | mansion. He had seen the evil glitter in the eyes of his | half-brother: ‘* He means to play me false, but he is a fool to think he can outwit me. Maldita! heis an idiot,” and, so thinking, he folded his cloak around him closely, bent his slouched hat over his eyes, to keep out the pelting rain, and wended his way along ata sores pace in the di- rection of the lower part of the city. A walk of fifteen minutes brought him to the last city light, a lamp swinging across the | street on’a chain; beyond aJl was gloom and darkness, yet indistinctly visible arose the mas- sive walls of an eld convent, crumbling to rain. Crossing the deserted, grass-grown court of | the old cloister, he paused at a stone Se | opening into the stuccoed wall, with its heavy cornices and massive pilasters rising high above his head. Once through the arched entrance, and he came to a wide stone stairway, but, es though | acquainted with the surroundings, he ascended | un resitatingly et until he reached a vestibule’ above, and there the flickering glimmer of a lamp beyond dimly lighted his way. The winds howled sei ce 2 through the old ruin; the place was cheerless in the ex- treme, yet it seemed to hold. no dread for the Hunchback, for, unmindful of his desolate sur- roundings, he strode fearlessly on, passed a lamp shedding forth a sickly glare, and then paused at a heavy oaken door, studded with nails and crossed by iron bars. Upon this door he rapped twice sharply, and then gave three lighter knocks, and almost in- stantly the door was opened. “ Felices noches, sefior padre!” accosted the Hunchback, as there appeared in the doorway — a tall, heavily-built man, attired in a long b gown, ed around the waist with a Urge to the ends of which were attached a solid gold crucifix and a rosary. ‘*Enter,” answered the man, opening the door wide. The hunchback ey oe the threshold | and the door was closed ind him. Ivan found himself ina room, with bare — walls, stone flooring, and « table, upon which were piled numerous books, a carved chair, a — stool, and a cot for furniture. A monk’s street cap, a penitential whip, com- posed of seven kno cords, and a m much worn, lay upon the cot, while a lamp and iron-rimmed spectacles, with ink-horn and quill pens were upon the table. And the occupant of the lonely cell was one not to soon forget, for he was past fifty, with iron-gray hair, smoothly-shaven face, dis- played every mobile feature, and severe, dark y eyes that were most penetra and se- vere, while his thin lips expressed a proud avaricious nature, for a covert, lurking smile | dwelt upon his mouth that was dangerous and treacherous. Yet his face denoted great intelligence, and — there was character enough wu every feature to promise stren and indomitable will in — whatever he might undertake, be it for good or evil. “Tt is a stormy night without, sefior,” he — said, calmly, to Ivan, at the same motion- _ ing him to a seat upon the stool. ‘Is it, sefior padre? but, in fact, I had not noticed it,” was the indifferent reply. ‘*Your mind is then more stormy within tham | the elements without?” ‘ “You are right, padre, and I t to ask your advice, for I told oa, wee a the creole, brought me here, that I would i your services,” * ‘And I need gold,” was the calm and ive answer. a ‘You shall have it, for I ask not even a mam — of your sacred calling to serve me for love, | . Now tell me, when dces this Belmor the Buccaneer, come to the city!” ; “The gold, sefior.” i oe “Ah, excuse me! Here! take this purse, and
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peal in it are a dozen onzas, that may serve to oil thy hol sper Sn pla strangely stiff in answ The monk took the purse without a word, thrust it in an inner et of his black gown, and said a he “The Chevalier Corsair will arrive in the city within the week. I cannot give you the day, es on account of the coming war with Great ritain, English cruisers are watching the Passes, and American vessels-of-war are in the ** And he does nos fear to trust himself within the city, where he must certainly be known to many?” “ Ab, no; the word fear is not in the yocabu- lary of the Chevalier Corsair. You would see ‘him, then?” “ Yes.” “And your business with him?” “That I will make known only to him,” re- turned the Hunchback, decisively. ‘You must make it known to me.” “And if I refuse?” “Then you cannot see him.” * This is stcange, indeed; I can gain an inter- view with pirat. c_iet only through a padre, and bef re Guir g so must confess all my plans to this Kaig?it o: the Crucifix,” said the Hunch- back, sne+ rimgiy. “Jt is ibe'culy way you can see the Chevalier Corsair when on sore. If you desire to see him other» ise, seek him upon thé high seas,” was the indiffere: t reply of the monk. ** And if I confess to you, you will not betray me?” “The confessional is sacred, be the act con- fessed what it may,” was vhe stern rejoinder, , **So be it. Belmont, ti Buccaneer. or, as you are pleased to call bim tle Chevalier Cor- sair, holds a captive whom I seek, and ove whom T love more than the world, life, the future, aud one to whom I had intended to devote my ex- istence; but she, for it isa woman, fell into the _ hands of this noted pirate chief when coming to me {rom another land, and I have sought her day and nigbt and now know that she is in his wer. “She is safe, for the Chevalier never yet _ wronged a woman.” “Safe she may be, but I want her in my pos- session once more, and I need your aid.” ““A ransom shall be demanded for the cap- tive.” ™ “A ransom shal! be ap but I am poor, for my all I have invested in the vessel in which I came to this city, searching for the one of whom Ispeak; but there is one, more beautiful even _ ‘than the one I speak of, whom I will give into the 1 rphitet of this pirate chief for the oue he now holds captive, and ber father will pay an enor- - mous ransom for her, and this I wish you to make known to Belmont, the Buccaneer.” “ And this maiden whom you would use to get back the one you love?” “That secret I will not_ make known; but I ——- you, padre, that she is re nay 7 beaut being I ever upon, and her father untold wealth.” __ “ And you will give her into the power of the _ Chevalier if he release the one you crave?” 4 aoe so make it known to your friend, the _ “Bring the maiden here, to this cloister, one week from this night, and you shall meet the Corsai valier r. ~ t half believe you are the buccaneer him- The monk smiled as he answered: _ “No; [am not half so good a man. But re- member—one week from night.” “T shall not forget, for more Yan my life de- . pendsuponit. Adios, re, and the gold you Pow you shall freely have, if you serve mein Ivan the Hunchback turned and left the cell, ‘ and once more faeed the bitter storm without. CHAPTER XII. A FALSE CONFESSION. though the presence of Don Ivan was ful to him, and bad completely un- him, Don Henrico Enderos preferred it . being left alone with hisdaughter, for he felt . that some explanation must be made to her of strange power over him by the Hunch- » SEES SEAS EES AIS ' ‘ ‘ to give up his native land, to live in luxury, he had left Spain and found the new world, where bis wealth, re- , just as the fear that his treble vow one day be brought face to face with ad died away, and all dread of the future e, the man to whom he had thus , and to whom he owed his riches ay, even his name, appeared to in the dust, and bring misery, upon him; at least sorrow ex- he take his daughter, for the dearly loved and Edna remain- oO of the iw his ation at self MPinas. mh Wy ft * The Edna, my child,” he said, in a low tone, “the ak hes has just loft havea secret to tell you of that nearly interests all of our ia a used, for h a ed to tell 8 or having determined to a falsehood, he wished to make it impressive, . ‘‘A vendetta has existed between his name | and mine, for he comes of one of the oldest ) families in Spain; and a pledge lies upon me which I must keep, one that will either bring me to ruin financially, cause me to lose my lie, or give up ali I bold dear on earth.” **Oh, tather, let all go, only let your life be spared,” cried the noble girl. ‘All, ali? You kuow not what yon say, Edna, for the other condition, besides \ ealth and life, is—is—you, my daughter.” ‘*Me? Oh, tather, what can you, what do you mean?” “Tmean, my child, that my vows were to give up my riches, my life, or my offspring.” **And who claims this sacrifice?’ demanded the girl. ‘*The Hunchback,” “ By what right?” ‘““That of having the power; but, Edna, ‘do not ask me more, for I have decided.” “Decided, and how, father?” ‘‘ He shall have my life.” ** Never!” ““ITsay- yes, for then my riches are left for | you, my child.” ‘** Never! if there is a sacrifice to be made, let the wealth go, for with life, we both have health, and [ have no fear of the future with strong hands and willing hearts; we have lad our day of luxury, let us now put up bravely ; with the poverty side of existence, and we will re ge § E be convent, father, so listen to me, and yield up the money.” **No, Ikdna, no!” “Not Why do you so cling to riches, fa- ther, that you would rather lose life than be poor?” * care not, Edna, for life; it is for you.” ** Nonsense! What care I for riches, if I have ou left, father? 1 know not why this man holds his treble claim against you. You tell me it is just, and so I must believe, and I willingly yield up fortune, to save you.” **No, no; the riches must not go,” groaned the sordid man, “Then there is but one alternative: vour life must be saved; your money you will not yield; so let him take the third claim, your « fspring, for I hold myself as a sacrifice for you and your gold, father.” He shrunk from the lovk of scorn in her mag- | nificent eyes, but said, quickly: ‘**No, no, child, for what might be your fate?’ ‘“* Death ! for after I had fulfilled the conditions of the accursed pledge that binds you to that deformed creature, I would, with my own hand, take my life.” ‘ She looked grandly beautiful as she ke, and, upon her, the selfish man deter- mined to save her at all events, though his cow- ard heart had admitted that to save his money and his life, she must be sacrificed. ‘*Edna, there may be no reason for any sac- rifice, for there are ready bands here in New Orleans that gold will buy. 4: ‘*What mean you, sir?’ ee mean that gold may buy our release from his man ** A good idéa, if he will compromise for half our wealth.” ** You do not yet comprehend; he would not compromise on ten times the wealth I could of- fer him; but there are others that gold would buy to rid us of this monster.” ‘Ha! no wonder I was dull of comprehension when my own father pro’ to me an in- direct assassin! Oh, father, father!” and the oung girl sunk upon a divan and buried her ace in her hands, while ber whole form was convulsed with emotion. Alarmed at the storm he had raised in her bosom, the wily man determined to recede, and said, quickly: “You are right, Edna; it was but a moment of weakness on my part, when I felt that his life alone lay between me and the breaking of the vows made to him. Look up, my child, and let us dismiss the painful matter.’ I will see yt, and let our riches go; it is best to have it us. ‘My dear, noble father! You are yourself once more, and if our gold does go from us, you will never regret that J was not sacrificed, or | that your life was not forfeited.” He kissed her fondly, and then retired to bis room, his heart black with designs yO his beautiful child, whom, as daarie’ as he loved, must be given up rather than Ais life and gold, for the gold gone all was lost that was most | dear to him, but the daughter, though wedded to a corsair, might be restored and saved to him, in the end, CHAPTER XIII. CORSAIR AND HUNCHBAOK. In a large and comfortable room, in a cabaret on the Rue Bienville, a few days after the in- w between the padre and the Hunchback, _command your arrest, and \\ 9 arrest of Mon- restates = new sivas wares er - ~ rates, for little aid will ‘that acc, ved kinsmar. “ of your motber’s, '!on Hernan(§ be to yo e for he is as tréac . vous asa snale t “The wealth all might goific, id only you back, my child, my darling!” » th He leaned his huge head upon his “ands ar y' shook with emotion for a moment; t. ., spri.. ing to his feet with flashing eyes, ¢ e>* th aloud: a ‘* But if harm bas befallen you, my b.autie- mi —if insult has been offered, or dishonor wee os | been forced, woe to every man who had hs,,,.) a in yoxwr capture! With my own true righ y hand will I drive my dagger to their black c hearts ” J He strode rapidly across the room fa: several times, and then sat down onve more an] picked a up the letter, saying in bis usual voice, now wholly free from excitement; ' ‘“The Chevalier will mect me here, in cabaret! A bold man, indeed, to trust himsdf — ; in my power, for I could have him seized and wring from him a sonfession of what he had ; done with my child. But be must give her up, . cost what it mn ay. , ‘My gold he has, nd tay keep, but not my child. Oh, no, and \ er \ »nsom shall be Edna Envderos, as my voble »roi her calls himself now, Ha! ba! ha! how sw, ‘ttle revenge I will reap | after these long year! of waiting—ha! there is a | knock, Enter!’ ee The door swung on. },a 4 a gargon ushered | into the room a tall § oak/d form, saying, ina loud tone: ; “* Monsieur De Lisl to ee the Sefior Don van. The door opened, an, the funchback turned | to meet his visitor, st tin» almost with sur- — prise, se he beheld befo e hi a man of com- _ manding presence, witl, a face strangely fas cmnetins and youthful, fy) rone who had upon his brow the brand of corsa\ r, : ‘Am I mistaken? or d:» I wa come the Cheva- \ lier Corsair?’ asked the I] ‘unciback,advancing. **Men so call me, sefior but, the Padre Boni. to tells me you would s ¢ me on amatterof importance,” was the qu @' mse, as the pi- dooeg chief took the chair \\on Ivan placed for m. “Yes, a matter of grea, mportance indeed, Sefior Chevalier: but you 4 e a brave man to intrust yourself here, whe) T could so easily sieur De Lisle, Belmont, the atuccaneer, or the Chevalier Corsair, as he may ,\ease to call bim- self, would mean death,” 7 The chief smiled, but no mu, s+ indicated by a tremor that he feared such a the, and he an- swered lightly: “In the midst of life, sefior, we gre in death, and the Dark Angel bas so long stalked by m side that I do not dread bis summons; bu were I brought to bay, you would find I wo fight for life, if only for the excitement of the combat. Now tell me how I can serve you?” “¥ will; but, first answer me—have I ever wronged you in any way?” : ‘“Sefior, I believe in you I behold Don Ivan Enderos? ; * Could you doubt it, once having seen or heard of me?’ asked the Hunchback, with in-, tense bitterness. “T meant not offense, sefior. If God has cursed you, no mortal tongue should ridicule His act. I simply asked if I addressed the Sefior Don Ivan Enderos,” said the Chevalier, impressively. **Yes: and | asked in what I had ever wrong- ed you 7 “Personally, you have never wronged me; but a boat from my vessel one night was unable vo reach us from the land; the storm blew therm upon your shores, and through your act they were put to death—nay, hear me; as outlaws hase, nd moe see Wet ag: tiney aeeae ee an e g were itled to rai a starved, wretched, wearled a te ee Say a a Pe bi 3 PL eee i bi ‘' ro SS r ! , , . vy
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= | ies | and ill they were cast, as wrecked seamen, upon rmercy, and cruelly you had them put to hs th, oak t have felt revengeful toward you leth (ever since.” / ‘They were ent men, and they had broken aie. | the laws of land and sea; but, what had I done that you should rob me of my innocent child, ” my beautiful daughter, and my gold?” m ‘Hold! did not your daughter tell you why Of, she came on board of my vessel, sefior?” be! .,Lellme? No! Ihave not seen her, and—” “6 *‘Have not seen her? Why, when did you -, >] “eg | eave your home? ; “The day after your landing and carrying her off, with all my wealth, the accumulation of years.” “Senor Ivan, your daughter was landed at a seaport, and your gold, too, not ten leagues from your house,” “Oh, God, I thank Thee.” ‘Listen! As you will have me tell you all, I may as well’‘make known to you that I consent- ed, as a revenge against you, to land and pil- lage your gold chests, but I dare not be treach- erous even to him who laid the plot and tell you his name; let your daughter do that. “‘T knew not that you had a child, or I should not have consented; but I saw her that night, and when she made known who she was, I or- | dered the gold restored, and it should have been , then, had not the dragoons come upon us from | the fort. Pad in 2 with some of my men, to beat _ them back, I reached my vessel to find on board _ your daughter and your gold, “Life is sweet, sefior, and I did not delay mut ter ire D Ds ve ‘Za ready had the eruisers along the coast been sig- naled to give chase; but I landed the next morning near a seaport, and sent your daugh- ter and your fortune ashore, as she will tell ou, : ** But, how came she aboard your vessel, Sefior Chevalier?” “That she will tell you; but'I pledge you by no act or order of mine.” i “* And was the one who laid this plot against me the one who determined to carry her off?” “* Yes, sefior; but more I cannot tell vou.” The Hunchback arose, evidently deeply moved by what he had heard, and paced several times across the room, the Chevalier Corsair eying . him closely. " oe length’ he approached and held out ‘his and. “Sefior, your words I believe, for you have no false look in your eyes, Ireturned to my home, from Havana, to find it sacked, and my darling child gone, and the commandante of the fort told me that the Chevalier Corsair had done the work, carrying off my daughter, her maid, my gold, and my kinsman, Don Manuel Hernan- dez, who would have defended my home, ‘*T knew that vessels were sent in hot pur- suit, and I waited for several days to get tidings of the capture of your vessel; but alas, they re turned, and all IT could learn was that your fleet vessel had run from them like the wind. A coaster reported that a combat seemed waging on your decks as you flew along—” “Yes, my men mutinied, because I gave up oo gold with your daughter; but I quelled hat trouble, and, as I tell you, put into the port ten leagues from your hacienda, and land- ed Senorita Enderos, her cousin, her maid, and > your treasure.” “‘Sefior, you indeed deserve the name you have won of Chevalier, even though it is linked | with that of corsair, and it was knowing of many of your noble deeds that I hoped the best | \for my poor child; but I sought you out, and _ came, in a small lugger to this port, where I was told I could find your haunts, or meet you, perpeee, that I might beg you for my beauti- lidol, telling you to keep my gold, but return her to me. ‘‘Ay, and for her I intended to give you as ransom one equally as beautiful in face and form, and in knowing that you brought dis- honor on her, it would be joy to my heart.” ““Hold! would you show ‘that your heart is as deformed as your body, that you would revel in the wretchednegs of an innocent girl?” _ The Hunchback sprung to his feet at the ring- ing words of the corsair, and his face became livid as he said, in husky tones: ‘The same feeling—revenge—that prompted ou to rob’me of my gold, in retaliation for the anging of your men, causes me to wish ruth upon the one of whom ak,” iy? “Don Ivan, I pitied you for your ‘misfor- tunes in being stamped as one aceursed of God; ,\ Ladmired you for your devoted love for your daughter; but I abhor you for your cow- |" ardiee.” 4 **Cowardice? Dare you call me a coward?” and the Hunchback’s voice rung threateningly, | while he a toward a handsomely-mount- ed sword that lay on the table, * Ay, the man who would wish to drag a pure woman down to ruin, to gratify a revenge, is a vile coward.” if Oh, God, do you repeat it? Then shall you wer with your life,” and the Hunchback ' sprang for the sword, and seizing it, came to- ward rani, whinhad onlscle tien, and a, Te a le re le en ~ ~ ‘d the co h vn 2 ive AMT eye ward atl ig Nepsuar OAs, ra: The Chevalier Corsair. dropped his hand upon the hilt of a dagger he carried in his m. ‘“Sefior, if you have cause of quarrel with me, we can select a more fitting time and place,” warned the Chevalier, calmly. ‘*No, the word coward to me shall never grow cold on your tongue; ay, and I'll rid the seas of the Chevalier Corsair and avenge the insult,” The Hunchback was a skilled swordsman, and, conscious of his own strength, he began the attack; but his blade was shivered to atoms when it struck the uplifted weapon of the cor- sair, while he was seized in a grasp of steel and hurled into the corner of the room as if he had been a toy. Staggering to his feet, half-stunned, livid with passion, and bleeding, he saw that he was ; alone; the Chevalier Corsair had departed! then to put the Sefiorita Stella ashore, for al- | i) yh “ky CHAPTER XIV. DON IVAN’S PLOT, WuHeEn Don Ivan Enderos brought his power of self-control into command, he checked his first intention of running after the Chevalier Corsair to denounce him in the street as a pi- rate and the famous sea rover; he s ment in silent thought, and then bathing the cut on his forehead, dressed it, and sat down to meditate, “Is my heart getting as deformed as my body, that I attempt to slay the man who has given me back my daughter and my gold?” he murmured. ‘*Tt would seem so; but coward is a word harsh to my ears—and yet, am I not a coward to visit wpon her the sins of her father? , ‘“*But I hate her, too, for *twas her mother who, when I told her of my love, gave me a mirror, in which to look at myself, while hatred of him I have inherited! Ay, from my mother have I the heritage of hatred for Don Henrico, a mo- | the basely born Endéros; and I will have my | revenge, for if this honorable pirate will not aid me, then some one else shall, for I will drag down into the very filth of the street both fa- ther and daughter— Ha! I think I have a tool to serve me, or I mistake the avaricious face of the Padre Bonito; now for an interview with that brother of Satan.” : So saying the Hunchback arose and attired himself for the street, throwing around him the heavy cloak he wore, more to hide his hideous deformity than for warmth. Sauntering out of the cabaret he met Pierre Jacot, the landlord, who said, politely ; ‘*'The sefior saw his visitor?” *¢ Yes; co you know who he is?” ‘*A very tine gentleman, indeed—the Mon- sieur De Lisle.” ** And, what else?” **If the sefior does not know his guest, it is not for me to do so,” replied the cautious Jacot. Don Ivan passed out into the street, and after a rapid walk approached the old convent in which the Padre Bonito had his home. Finding his way to the cell, or ‘chamber, at one *nd of the rock-bound corridor, he gave a loud knock. The padre quickly appeared, and recognizing him, said, simply: “Enter, my son.” “Your son! You would curse me, padre were I really thy og ay) I am deformed and accursed, I know, and hence I fling down the gauntlet of hatred against the race of whom I am but a foul blot.” ‘* Benedicite, hijo mio,” answered the padre, solemuly, rising and holding his hands above his head. ““Oh, curses upon your blessings, padre! I came ‘not here for nonsense but to ask your aid.’ ‘* You have seen the Chevalier, then?” ‘Yes, and he left me his mark, and the taunt of coward ringing in my ears.” ‘¢ You should have known better than to have angered him.” “*Sefior padre, I choose not my words to any man. But enough:—he did me a favor such as I can never repay him for, but when I sought his aid in a matter of revenge he was insulted that I should believe him so base—called me a coward, which I resented, but he shivered my sword and hurled me across the room with a strength I knew not man could possess, and I am no child, padre.” ‘¢ Though a corsair the Chevalier has honor.” ** How, unlike you and I! But, to the point:— I need your aid.” ‘¢ Would you ask a padre to serve which a pirate had refused to act?’ the priest, sternly. “Oh, yes, for you wear but a mask of piety, which removed, shows Satan in the robe of the saint.” “Vou are bold, sefor, and I have a mind to fling you from that window,” and the padre arose. ‘*Only one man could do that, and I’ve had one lesson to- ight; but, sit down and hear me, for [ have gold now to offer, as I can get an Havana er to advance me money, now that your courtly corsair has returned me my fortune.” ‘ ‘Well, sefior, what would you?” and drop- you in that demanded ee) ‘us ty ~ ye nie a8 ‘ > Aes oe «RIN, tech te 9 ping all sign of anger the Padre Bonito resumed is seat. ‘*I seek revenge. There is but one way I can reach my foe so well as t his-love for his child, and, Spaniard though he is, he is no Cath- olic, and dreads your church as Satan does holy water. “Tt was my intention to give the daughter of my foe in ransom for my own child; but she be- ing safe I offered the maiden to the corsair, with the result you-know. Now I ask you to take her and place her forever behind the walls of a convent.” ‘““That were hard to do here, sefior, if, as I suspect, she is rich and prominent.” “Then elsewhere?” ‘* Elsewhere, yes.” ‘* Where?” ‘*In Havana, for instance. in a swift-sailing caravel.” ‘* How know you that, padre?” You came here ‘‘T know many things, sefior,” was the sig- . nificant reply. ‘* Admitted; I came here in a small but swift caravel, from my island home in the West In- dies, and she is still here; what then?” “T will give you a letter to a person in Ha- vana, who will place the maiden in a convent oat but you must take her to Cuba your- se **T can do so, I think, on my wavfback to my own home; but how to get her in my power is. the trouble.” ‘‘That is easy, for the Carnival time has come, and you can go boldly to her home, gag her, mask her face, and bear her to your ves- sel, and it will be looked upon as a masquerad- ing freak, especially as you are—” “*Go on, padre! Don’t spare me, but say that my own hideous form will be looked upom as a mock deformity; but I will take your ad» vice, so tell me your fee and I will give you the gold to-morrow,” “Place in my hand fifty onzas, and I will go with you, and carry the maiden safely on board your caravel,” “It is a bargain! I will be here with the gold; then we will arrange the hour for our work, and the vessel shall he all ready to sail. Most pious padre, adios!” and with a mock | reverential bow the Hunchback left the cell and the ruined convent, rubbing his hands with sin- ree esp while he muttered: *“*Ha! ha! ha! all the venom of piers coming back against my noble brother, Don Henrico, and when I have his sweet daughter incarcerated inthe walls of a convent, 1 wili torture his life into a very hell on earth. Oh! but revenge is a sweet morsel that melts like nectar on my lips!” He walked rapidly along, unaware that a tall cloaked form had crept out from the shadow of the old ruin and was following him with swift, keen knife was silent tread, and that a long ¢ with deadly in- held in a hand that grasped tent. A moment more and the tracker was upon him; the gleaming blade descended with terrific force upon the deformed shoulders, only toe strike with a ringing, metallic sound, and break short off at the hilt! The blow staggered the Hunchback for an in- stant, but only for an instant, fer, with a cry of rage, he turned and grasped his intended Law in his long and powerful arms, while he cried: “* That is your game, is it?” The man struggled, but the slouch hat and cloak were torn from him, and the light of a swinging lamp, across the street above, revealed «3 7 as the dark, passion-marred face of Don Henrico Enderos, while, in sneering tones, the Hunch- back said: e “ My noble brother, I thank you!” CHAPTER XV. ENTRAPPED. For.eD in his dastard attempt w silent, dejected, and overwhelmed with and mortification, for he knew that he was but any = FS eae
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1 “Dare you enter there, plotting my ruin as you are, and after what has just occurred?” “Oh, yes, Henrico; £ dare do anything. Come, I would again see thy sweet daughter, and if she is to be the lamb of sacrifice, and not you, I would plot to get her into my power hat her doting father may not be suspected of ae her up to save himself and his gold. ‘Come, let us walk,” and slipping his hand into the arm of Don Henrico, he led him along, in spite of himself, and soon they reached the ele- gant mansion, which was brightly lighted, and from the windows of which floated a voice in song. “Ny daughter has company,” announced Don Henrico, hesitatingly. ‘* What doth it matter? Present me to thy acon Ph the reply, and with a muttered eurse Don Henrico gave the brass knocker a rap. Jacques at once appeared in answer, with some surprise ey apa upon his face when he beheld who was his master’s companion. In the b rekaaa at the piano, a rare instrument in those s, sat Edna. She had just finished singing a Spanish ballad, while, by ber side, stood a tall, elegant-looking gentleman of thirty whose dark face and clear-cut features stamped his creole lineage. Edna’s face paled at sight of her father and the rear Peel with him; but she arose and bow ldly, while Don Henricointroduced the Hunchback as: OM My friend, the Sefior Don Ivan Enderos, of the West Indies.” Noel Valverde, the handsome young creole, advanced at ouce, and with no s of having observed the hideous deformity of the visitor, offered his hand, and said in an easy, winning way natural to him; “Tt gives me pleasure to know Don Ivan.” The Hunchback grasped the proffered hand, and his hideous face flushed, as he answered: ** And I to meet Monsieur Valverde,” and he turned to a seat, a strange, soft expression in his eyes, for so otten ha the start of abhor- rence, the look of loathing, and shrink of dread, been turned upon him, that he felt drawn to the man who saw not his deformity, or, if seeing it, gave no siga of so doing. Uneasy at the presence of a man he wished dead, and unnerved at his failure to take his life, Don Henrico showed his agitation to such a degree that Edna, who now held perfect con- trol over herself, suggested an adjournment to the ad one room for refreshments, Tien Don Ivan so exerted his powers of en- tertainment that even the unhappy Don Henri- co was charmed with his narratives of scenes and adventures in other lands, while Edna seemed to forget his hideousness in the music of his vvice, the fascination of his eyes, and the brilliancy of his conversation. Noel Valverde listened, enraptured, to every word that fell from the lips of the strange man, who suddenly broke the spell by a sinister, bitter laugh, and the remark: ‘* But onesuch asI, a caricature on the image of my Maker, should not monopolize the attention of afair maiden and gallant cavalier, Adios, sefiorita and sefiors.” Witvont another word he arose and turned away, and, though Don Henrico followed him to the door, not a word was spoken between them, for, pulling his cloak around him, he str de forth into the darkness, But at the corner he turned, and, standing be- nea h tue shadow of a China tree, he muttered: “Ere long it will be a long night for thee, my beauty—along good-night to the world of p!easure—and then will begin the sweotness of my revenge against thee and thine!” Even as he uttered the last words a dark oh- ject dropped down from the tree upon his shoul- ders; bony fingers grasped at bis throat with death-like grip, while upon the ground sunk the Hunchback. One glance into the face of his assailant an bad urgling ery from the ae of even Don Ivan Enderos; pas § no wonder, for he was in the clutch of a being who, if anything, was more hideously deformed than himself! CHAPTER XVI. THE DWARF. Wrrn the steel grip upon his throat, and his arms pinioned to his sides by the vise-like legs of the person who had sprung upon him, Don Ivan knew thathe was wholly at the mercy of this hideous foe, A head of monstrous siae, huge white teeth, deep-set eyes, cunning and devilish, a skin as black as night, a dwarfin hight, a giantin body, with short, stout legs, and armsthat reached al- most to his feet, was what Doulvan saw in that glan-e, before his head reeled with the pressure upon his throat, and his eyes became blind with in. “em then distinctly he heard, as he lay upon the ground in the power of his fearful assailant, the clang of an iron gate, a quick, firm tread, and then a stern voice of command. **Jocko! Jocko, What means this?” The clutch at his throat was released, the weight from his body princriohy and then, as re- turning ¢onsciousness swept am to him, the- ssn The Chevalier Corsair. Hunchback heard the reply in thick, humble | tones: “‘Jocko hear him talkee bad; thinkee want harm to massa and massa friends, so wantee kill him.” “it bape to Heaven you have not doneso. He is my friend and the friend of Don Henrico. Bad Jocko, to do this!’ and Noel Valverde, for he it was, bent over the prostrate form—the Hunchback still unable to move. ‘*AHe lives! Did you use your ugly knife, Jocko?” ‘*No, massa; me chokee him.” ‘*That is enough; take him up and bring him home,” erfect ease, and quickly, as though anxious to gain favor in in his master’s eyes, the dwarf raised the Bitinchback in his arms and followed Noel Valverde for the distance of a square, when they turned intoa grand garden through an iron gate which the young creole opened with a key. Crossing the ornamental grounds they came toa large and el t mansion standing back from the street, and, knocking at the bales it was opened by the concierge, an old family servant, clad in livery. ‘* William, send restoratives at once to my room,” ordered Noel Valverde, as the old negro started back at sight of the burden carried by Jocko, and he stood aside to allow them plenty of room to pass. ‘Into my room, Jocko,” and the dwarf ascended a broad, carpeted stairway and turned into a carved door, which led into a suit of igre rca furnished rooms; then, at a motion of his master, the dwarf laid the Hunchback upon a velvet divan. “Ah! Iam glad to see you recovering,” said the creole, bending over Don Ivan, whose blood- shot eyes were now open and fixed upon him. He tried to speak, but the effort failed, and Jocko handed a glass of wine, which he drank, but with difficulty. “I regret, sefior, this attack upon vou ex- ceedingly, and will do all in my power to atone for it; but Jocko, here, in some way believed ou my foe, or the enemy of Don Henrico and his daughter, and sprung upon you.” “‘T muttered words he doubtless misunder- stood to refer to you, or them, and if he acted to save you, as he believed, [ cannot blame him,” answered Don Ivan, though with evident in. ‘Tt is kind of you to thus excuse him; but the poor fellow is greatly attached to me, for, some years ago, he was an outcast in the streets—no oue caring for him, and having no home, for he was deserted by some ship’s crew that had brought him from Africa; one day I took his part against the rabble and gave him a home with me. Since then, if I go out at night he dogs my footsteps, and waits like a patient do my return; so you see I cannot but fond o him,” ‘* You are a noble man, Monsieur Valverde and would to God there were more like BES I eve yee my life, for your siave would have killed me, and from this day Iam your friend, and Jocko’s, for his very deformity makes him akin to me, and if you refuse not his friendship, I feel that you will not mine, for, hideous though 1 be, I am neither a slave, nor a poor mar, ‘*My dear sefior, you are too bitter against yourself. The eee the heart, both of which you possess, command respect far more than beauty of face and of form.” “In your eyes, yes; but not in the world’s vision. “But I will not tax you longer with my presence, for Lam recovered now,” and declin- ing the urgent entreaties of Noel Valverde to remain all night, as his guest, the Hunchback turned to go, but started, at beholding before him a young girl, who had just glided into the room, and stood looking at him, yet with no ii stare at his deformity or shrinking from m, At a glance he saw the resemblance between the maiden and Noel Valverde—she possessing all the beauty of his face and form, toned down into feminine loveliness, and with eyes that were the windows of a pure soul. : **My sister, Manine, Don Ivan Enderos,” said Noel, politely, and the beautiful girl stretched forth ber hand in welcome. Bending low over it the Hunchback said, in his soft, win- ning tones: ‘* And to your brother I owe my life. Adios, monsieur and mademoiselle,” He again moved toward the door, and, a mo- ment after Jocko let him out into the street, ea i humbly: ‘ Massa, forgivee Jocko?” “Yes, for deformity makes us two akin,” and he walked away. CHAPTER XVII. THE BITER BITTEN. TruxE to his promise to Don Ivan the Padre Bonito was on hand to aid him in the kidnap- ping of Edna Enderos, for the fifty onzas had been paid, the caravel* was ready for sailing at a moment’s notice, and the two plotters were * A three-masted schooner with lateen sails, fre- quently used in the West Indies. Don Ivan, in Y hy ae taking advantage of the merry Carnival % carry out their evil design. — The plan of the Hunchback at first worked ?@ well, for Don Henrico being away from home, & forged letter from him, begging Edna to ae company the bearer, who was the padre in dis) guise, and who would bring her him, h caused her to leave her home, and, once in th waiting carriage, she was seized in the stron arms of Don Ivan, a handkerchief, satura with a drug to cause unconsciousness, held to her nose, and in an instant almost she appea as tho dead. But the gay masqueraders in the street blocked the way, the vehicle was detained account of the crowded trottoirs, and, ever anon, some fantastic harlequin would spri ere eon the horses and remain unt as away by the angry garcon, In turning into the Rue Bienvyille they wert stopped by an odd procession of Gipsies, troubas dours and negroes, and again in front of a café a band of fantastic aint acl were caroling dies, to the amusement of the lookers-on, y Why do you stop, gargon ?” cried Ivan, angrily, for the dozenth time, addressing the cabrioletea. | ‘*T cannot go on, monsieur,” was the answer: “Lash them out of the way,” came the stert order. “*T dare not, monsieur.” ** Messieurs,” and Don Ivan stuck his head out of the window ; ‘‘ messiewrs! citoyens | : you kindly permit my cabriolet to pass, as I amt in haste?’ The crowd glanced upon the hideous facg and evidently mistaking it for being en masque, or made up, cried out, pleasantly: “Monsieur is one of us; let him pass.” “Je suis infiniment obligé, messieurs,” said gee a French; but in Spanist) came a deep orth at those who had believed hi#l face not human, But, though the cabriolet rolled on once mor® for awhile, the mad spirit of the Carnival was abroad too thoroughly to allow it to p wholly unmolested, and, at length, the driver was forced to a stand-still once more. ‘* Curses on this crowd! she will revive soon, and the padre and I have no more of the drug) with me,” growled the Hunchback, anxiously. “Then, let us get out and walk. Here, pee these masks on her and yourself, and I will car- ry her, while you make way with those strong. arms of yours.” : “But, the people?” “Will look upon itas a mad freak of the Car- nival. Itis our only chance—come!” j He raised Edna in his strong arms, and thé two men sprung from the cabriolet and forcing their way through the crowd, who, deed, little dreamed that, in the act of c a maiden in his arms, the padre was far perpetrating a mere innocent joke. But, as they sped rapidly along the infinenod of the drug wore off, consciousness returned Edna, and, as the reader will remember, her cries for aid, at first, were believed to be fe until, suddenly, there was one person who { not so regard them, and, boldly springing to the) rescue, daringly took her under his protection, | Observing that the crowd were in no pleasanfé humor with them, having discovered that their deed was one of desperate earnestness, the) Hunchback and the padre beat a hasty retreat; but, the gay masqueraders were now willing) for almost any escapade against the two men, who, in the guise of masqueraders, were com- mitting an act of deviltry; so they started im pursuit, hooting and hissing, and getting up their courage to attack and punish the insult to) a fair maiden. ‘*Come, to my boat! and then on board the} caravel,” cried the Hunchback, quickly, as | | moved rapidly forward, with the padre, in the) direction of the levee, where the gig of the ves- sel, with its four black oarsmen, awaited the) coming of Don lvan. But, seeing their purpose, the crowd pressed still closer, and it was evident that they were to be rudely treated, so both men turned at bay, seizing their arms. “J warn you off, messieurs; we will not be) bullied with impunity,” cried the Hunchback, and he handled his short sword in a way tha proved he was not to be intimidated. ‘Tt will be thé worse for some of you, if yo press us more,” warned the padre, in his deep, stern tones. ‘‘Rush on them!” ‘*They are kidnappers “Down with them!” came in angry voices from the crowd, and ascore of the boldest masqu “Hold! what means this, citoyens?” sudden- ly cried a ringing voice, and a tall form, closel ollowed by a short, stout figure, forced himself forward and stood between the angry crowd and the two men at bay, and who stood with their backs against an old adobe wall. ‘*Tt is Monsieur Noel Valverde!” called out one of the throng, as the handsome, unmasked face of the young millionaire was 1 ecognized. / \i # s 7 anf orad eam tomo d - a as ee ee ee en ee ee. ee -, ee A e pe ee ee ph - we: a ~ aon eet
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* And his deformed slave, Jocko,” said an- eg ther, when the negro was seen at his master’s ef “Yes, messieurs, I am M. Valverde. I have dis hac thé 1 to L rudely these two men, and I always take the side of thé weak,” remarked the young man, in acalm, fearless way. ‘Bravo! you are always good, M. Noel!” ‘* He is the friend of the poor man!” ** Long live M. Valverde and his name!” Such were the shouts that went up from the fickle crowd when they recognized the young creole,* who was, indeed the poor man’s friend. ‘‘ But he does not know their vileness.” i ‘They are kidnappers!” “‘They were flying with a hie girl!” came the answering cries, and M. Valverde turned to tke Hunchback, and said: “Monsieur, there is some mistake here, is there not?” “There is, sir; at the request of Don Enderos his daughter to him, and she rer. **Oh, no, monsieur; she returned to her home, when myself and companion were pressed by these mulattoes; do you not recognize me as the | friend of Don Henrico, not his enemy? I am Don Ivan Enderos.” “Ah! I recall you now,” answered M. Val- verde, too anxious not to wound the Hunchback by soring that he recognized him at a glance from his carriage, and sprung out to come to his rescue; and turning to the crowd he con- tinued in a loud tone: ‘“‘ Messieurs, there is some mistake here, for this gentleman is my friend, and he was not bearing the lady off for evil reasons. If I an- swer for him, you will let him pass, assuredly,” es * Long live M. Valverde!” “Hunchback, you’ve saved that ugly face of yours this time,” and like cries pee i Fe upon all sides, while, raising his hat to the throng, the young creole led the way toward the levee, a Ivan telling him that his boat awaited him ere, ‘* Monsieur Valverde, again I owe you lasting regards. Yonder is my caravel, and will you ‘honor me by going on board and having a glass _ of wine with me?” asked the Hunchback, earn- J “ry es, I will accept your invitation, Don Ivan, as I observe from here that you have a very beautiful vessel. Jocko, bid my carriage await me here,” and while the slave darted away, or BEES Eee 52 ESE RTS RE with aspeed none would have believed him ca- pable of with his short legs, the creole, padre, and Don Ivan entered the boat. But, as it snene off from the shore, with a mighty bound Jocko lighted in the stern, and crouched down behind his master. _“ Why, Jocko abe rudeness I must reprove, sir,” said Noel Va verde, sternly. “Me wantee go with massa; me likee Hunch- 4 back too,” said the negro, in excuse; but it was ns §6evident from Don Ivan’s face, now unmasked, ix that the friendly regard Jocko held for him was 1@ not reciproca ti A row of an eighth of a mile brought them to i the caravel, a three-masted schooner of two My hundred tons burden. ae She was crouching, rather than lying upon m the murky river, and suggested the thought of P| along, lean-bodied greyhound about to spring “ upon its prey. Her huil was bronze rather than black, and a ribbon of gilt ran from her sharp bows to the Stern; the bulwarks were high—so high, in fact, that only the red skull-caps of her negro crew could be seen above them. Her sides were pietced for five guns to a dside, yet none were visible on her decks, and only a dozen men, all slaves, could be seen. Her model was as faultless as a regatta club- boat, and her slender masts, single sticks, raked far aft, and were also bronzed, as were the long 6} slender yards, crossin g them obliquely and sus- pending the huge lateen sails, as white as snow. , Youhave a beautiful vessel here, Don lvan,” : declared Noel Valverde, as he stepped on deck, My 18) 18 ts) s+] le d 6 ry followed by the padre, who still remained mask- ed, and yet who glanced around him with the admiring gaze of a man who had been upon dark-blue water in his time, and knew a pretty traft when he saw it, “ Yes, she is my yacht, and cost me a round sum. Ihave a permit te arm her, for it is dan- an unarmed deck.. My guns are in the hold; but important dutiés called me to your city be- | fore I had time to get the Whirlwind in perfect ey os eras, 7 y “An appropriate name, 4 for she looks as thoagh she a ~ y e f\ 1 doubtless, Don Tyan, could fly like a whirl- : * Tt is erroneously believed by many peopleof the : North and West Resets word cree sean a qua- droon or negro ; bu Sis a grave error, for it signi- 1 | es native. Ii Louisiana a creole is a native of the Btate, whether he be white or black, ‘ gerous cruising nowadays, M. Valverde, upon ; ane Cloraier Coral wind over the waters. I have ek oauns § thought of havingsuch a vessel built for myself, though it is rather an expensive toy.” ** No; as you see, I have manned it with m come to interfere, for I see you are pressing | own poe! but come into the cabin, please,” and the Hunchback led the way, followed by Noel Valverde, but not by the padre, But, in a moment the Don returned, and call- ed to him a bright young mulatto, and said to him; ‘¢ Bear this to the home of Don Henrico En- deros, Rue St. Luis, and return at once, for it needs no answer,” and he hastily scribbled on a leaf of his note-book.as follows: * Let Don Henrico remember that he did send for the Sefiorita Edna, and impress it upon her mind that she is not to make known who was her escort to-day, or it will be the worse for father and daugh- ter. IVAN The young slave took the note, sprung into a light canoe that was alongside and rowed rapid- ly shoreward, while Don Ivan turned to the re. pe Come, padre, joints in the cabin.” ‘Tt is better that I should not, Don Ivan, for M. Valverde knows my face as well as I do his, and I had better not unmask.” “True; do as my ren ge "And take the warf with you—M. Val- Aa slave, for his eyes are roving over every- thing. Calling to Jocko to follow him, Don Ivan re- entered the cabin. A slave placed wines and sweetmeats before himself and guest; but, hardly had they drank one glass of wine, when the Hunchback sprung to his feet, crying out: ‘“What means this? The caravel is in mo- tion.” He rushed to the companionway, but found it closed and bolted, and in roaring tones he shouted: Pedro! “Ho on deck! come here!” And he called for his slaves in still louder tones, yet no answer came, while on deck were heard Sef feet moving rapidly about, and the vessel, careened on one side, was hing rapidly along! hat coul Alonzo! Bernado! it mean? CHAPTER XVIII. UNMASKED. As soon as the masked stranger had forced his way through the crowd, with Edna upon his arm, he called a cabriolet, and, assisting her into it, asked where the driver should carry her, and, in doing so, gazed, for the first time, direct- ly into her face, which was now composed, after her alarming adventure. She saw him start, yet the visor he wore con- cealed his face thoroughly. Had he met her be- fore? Was he one of her numerous admirers? me) nt ey ee ith perfect politeness, as he now no further cause to see himself upon ber, he in- tended to leave her, and, seeing this, and with picker gf to know more of her preserver, Edna “Monsieur, am I not to know more of my kind gran ateige or at least to see his face?” “Tt were better masked, lady,” was the strange reply. “But you will, if your time will permit, es- cort me to my home, that my father, who I trust is by this time at home, may thank yon for hg goodness to bis daughter.’ ‘No, lady; I need no thanks,” “But, am I safe yet? See the crowded streets, and I am going to impose upon you to still be my kind escort,” persisted Edna, more and more interested in the strange man, and, upon that account, more desirous to find out who and what he was. “If you command, mademoiselle, I obey. Your address, please,” he said, quietly. She gave it, and, telling the coachman where to drive, he sprung into the cabriolet, which at once rolled away toward the home of Don Hen- rico Enderos. “And you will neither tell me your name, nor let me.see the face of my brave friend, to whom I owe so much?” said Edna, in a tone of pique, as the cabriolet stopped before her fa- ther’s elegant home. ‘*I must repeat, lady, that it is better that you should neither know my name, nor see my face. Would to Heaven it were otherwise, but a cruel Fate renders it best as it is.” She was more than ever impressed by his sad j tone, yet would not persist in urging what, it was plainly evident, he did not wish to do; yet, having bade the coachman to await him, when he escorted her to the door, she said, once more: “*Sefior, farewell, for, as you so firmly refuse to five me your name, or a glance at your face, I feel that we shall never meet again. “True, our paths in life must diverge far apart, though this is the second time we have met,” he said, sadly. “Then you know who I am?” “Only when you gave me your name and ad- dress.” ** And we have met before, you say?” * Yes, once; had we not, I would not now re- Hedy fuse to tell you my name, or unmask before “Hal now I recall your voice, and now I know you! Oh, sefior! sefior! why are you what you are?” and she spoke earnestly. He raised his hand, unfastened his visor, and removing it with his hat, stood unmasked and uncovered before her. She did not start, she simply gazed earnestly into the face she now remembered so well, and which she had last seen upon the deck of the brig, which had been so daringly boarded in Long Island Sound by one whom she now knew - hat ieen branded as a pirate. ‘ Ah! I was right; your voice betrayed you to me; and 1 owe my preservation to— : “Speak the word, lady,” he said, as she paused. ‘‘Say that you owe your rescue to one whom the world calls a pirate.” ‘No, no! I will not say that, for I do not be- lieve you as evil as report would make you; but, be you what you may, I thank you for’ what you have done for me, and, outlaw _ though you be, I will never cease to remember you for saving me from a fate 1 dare not think of; but, sefior, what do * ie here in a city filled with your foes, and where a reward of gold- over your head?” = iness of an important nature brought me here, and one who carries his lifein his hand, as I do, lady, is in danger everywhere; but, adieu, and when ge hear of the Chevalier Cor- sair,as men call me, do not believe I am as black as rumor paints me.” He turned quickly away, and impulsively Ed- na started forward, as though to recall him; but she checked herself, watched him get inte the vehicle in waiting and drive away, and then she entered the mansion, her heart aching witk sorrow for the man whom she had a second time met, and whom a cruel destiny had driven an outlaw upon the seas. And, in spite of the scene of bloodshed she had fi beheld him in his dark face haunted her, for she had seen him boldly re- lease his vessel from its peril, and now D face two desperate men to rescue her from dan- ger, and his reckless courage and magnificent appearance impressed her deeply, ough he was, and she said, half-aloud: ‘‘T must not think of that man, or—I shall love him, and love with me is everything— everything!” CHAPTER XIX. DENOUNCED. GrvinG the cabrioleteer orders, he was driven to a cabaret—the café, in fact, of Pierre Jacot, where the reader bas seen that Don Ivan the Hunchback had bis quarters in the city. It was not far from the Place d’ Armes, the heart of the French district of New Orleans at the time of which I write. But, instead of turning down by the Cathe- dral, as he should have done to go to Jacot’s cabaret, or tavern, the driver saddenly wheeled up to the pavé near the calaboza, and sung out lustily in mech: ‘Ho, guards! Here in my cabriolet is the Chevalier Corsair! Seize him!” So thoroughly occupied had the corsair— whom the reader now knows as Vietor De Lisle —been in the painful thoughts aroused by sight of Edna Enderos, the maiden who had witness- ed the first act that made him an outlaw, he had not noticed that the cabriolet was not in the direction he had ordered, but, recalled to himself, by the ringing ery of the driver, he lanced out quickly, and opening the door on the street side sprung out of the vehicle. At first the crowd were impressed with the idea of its being a Carnival joke, perpetrated by the cabrioleteer. Even the s from the calaboose, to whom he had appealed, did not believe him, until the tall form of the corsair appeared, dashing across the street, and the wild cries of the driver warned them that he was in deadly earnest. ‘* It is Belmont, the Buccaneer! Sur ma parole WVhonneur! See! he flies! Seize him! seize the Chevalier Corsair, and gold will reward you!” and the coachman, almost beside himself, as ha saw the rich reward fading from his eyes, sprung from his box in hot pursuit, while, with loud cries, the guard and crowd joined. Realizing his terrible danger, the corsair darted into.a dark area, or allée, but, discover- ing that he was hard pressed, he turned and faced his pursuers, and the reckless driver was the first to feel his vengeance, for he was seized and hurled back upon the throng with a force that knocked him breathless, and sent a cow of and several citizens to earth with weight. ’ “Back! if you press me you die!” came in i tones from the dark area, and the rh oa a back, relying upon the guards te ‘Don’t let him escape! It is the buccaneer, for he captured a vessel on which I was a pas- senger from Havana, only a few months ago,” cried the driver, recovering rapidly when he re- membered that if taken, he would a large sum of the reward offered for the head of the corsair, or alive. Urged by this determined assertion the j A
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4 k _ guards and citizens rushed en masse into the The Chevalier Corsair. | aids went to the next table, and the next, until | dark acke; but tae corsair was not there, for | they came to a solitary individual, with dark, he had darted on to the end, and had quick!) taken off his heavy cloak and reversed it, wit the under side out, and which made of it the tape of a naval officer; then his ¢:apeau disap- peared, and a naval cap, ornzmented with a rold band, was put upon his head, while a heavy ard, also drawn from s.me inner pocket, quickly covered his face, Thus thoroughly Cispuise’ he had turned into a door, leading into a brilliantiy-ligated wine- shop, or salun, and in which half a hundred people were gathered at tables, some playing ominoes, others cards, and still more smoking th htettied while all were drinking claret, Span- wines or absinthe, To slip quietly into a chair, and call quickly to a pretty waiter to bring him a bottle of noyeau was the work of an instant; but, hardly had it been placed on the table before him, when into the cabaret dashed half a dozen guards and three-score of citizens. * Sucre! are you gone mad that you enter a respectable cabaret in this manner, citoyens?” cried the proprietor, coming forward with an- gry face. . “No, Monsieur Juan, but we pursue an out- law; the great Chevalier’ Corsair!” cried the sergeant, eajrerly. “He is not here. I entertain only honest men, Monsieur Sergeant,” was the angry retort, while ail who heard the words of the sergeaut arose to their feet in excitement. “Pardon, Monsieur Juan, I did not say you entertained such a guest; but he escaped from a ‘cabriolet—here is the cabrioleteer, and he re- eognized him, and he darted into your allée, and this is the only way he could have come.” “Tf he is here, you know your duty; my guests are before you,” said the cabaret-keeper, evidently not pleased with the idea of having such a famous character seek refuge under his roof, as it might compromise him thereby. Accompanied by the cabrioleteer, the guards began the search, eying every face closely as they came to each person, and having first taken the precaution to lock the salon doors in the front and rear. Quietly, and without the least tremor of the hand, the disguised corsair poured out a glass of noyeau, and sipped it as complacently as though he were not the hunted man; nor when the searching party neared him did any ner- Vvousness appear. ‘Ah! here is an officer of the navy! Mon- sfeur, we are in search of a man whom you ‘er- liaps you heard? It was the famous rover whom men call Belmont, the Buccaneer, and also the Chevalier Corsair,” and little dreaming that the capote worn by the man he addressed had two sides, so utterly different, the sergeant of the guards stopped at the table where the out- aw sat, and who answered, quietly: “*] heard your assertion, monsieur; but there must be some mistake, for the corsair chief come to your city; besides, T saw him aboard his fleet schooner only & day or so ugo off the Balize.” ‘And he escaped you, too, monsieur, as he -has many another officer?’ **- Yes; his vessel is as fleet as the wind.” “But, monsieur, this cabrioleteer says he rec- ognized the chief.” _ *Then you have seen him before?” and the corsair turned to thé driver, who stood by trembling with excitement. , * Oh, yes, sir; I went to Havana to visit my brother, who keeps a pulperia* there and our good ship was returning when we were chased and captured by the pirate schooner known as El Malditot+, and which came down upon us like a tornado. Upon the deck stood the Chevalier Corsair, a tall, splendid-looking man, ‘with bronzed face, dark hair and eyes that seemed to look you through and through, while brown mustaches shaded his mouth, *“ And the man you saw on the deck of El Maldito was the one you now search for?” ask- ed the chief, quietly. “Upon my honor, yes, monsieur; he went to the rescue of a young maider, whom two men were abusing the license of Carnival to torture, and he drove her to her home, where he left _ her; it was then that he unmasked, and I -dnstead of the Rue St. Anne where he ordered ized him, so drove him to the calaboose ‘me to put him down; but he was too quick for me and got away.” “Tt is a pity, for you would have enriched elf by his capture.- And he came in “Yes, sir; for he could have gone no other lace, as we have searched the court into ; Sruich the allée led, and all the doors, excepiing ; the one leading to this cabaret, are locked.” _ Then, doubtless, he passed straight on into the street, unnoticed by any im the crowd. Bon vr, messiewrs /” and the supposed officer turn- _ ed to bis wine with the air of a man who desired fa be no more worried. : ia - ‘Taking the hint the sergeant and his band of “A Spanish tave or wine shop. 7 of “ @ Accursed,”” oe ey i avr handsome face, and with the air and dress of a Spanish noble. ** Ab! here is a gentleman who fits your de- scription, garcon,” said the sergeant, as his eyes fell upon the stranger. ‘* He is strangely like him, Monsieur Sergeant, though not so handsome, or so tau; but ! may be deceived, and as his dress is similar it is best to arrest this one.” “What means this insult?’ and the stranger | arose to his feet, his face working with anger. ‘Tt means, sir, that you are suspected of be- ing the Chevalier Corsair, and upon such sus- picion I arrest you in the name of the muni- cipality of New Orleans.” “Dastard! Lay not your hand on me!” and he threw the sergeant’s hand rudely aside, and continued, as he drew a short sword from be- neath his cloak: “*T am an officer in the Spanish army, and I will submit to no outrage ‘Seize him! Seize!” rung out cries upon all sides, and, thus urged, the sergeant and his men were about to obey, when the former felt a | note vy grasp upon his shoulder, and a deep voice said: ‘‘Beware, monsieur, how you overstep your authority, for this gentleman is what he repre- sents himself, Don Manuel Hernandez, I greet you! It was the Corsair Chief who spoke, and ad- vancing, he extended his hand to the Spaniard, who glanced fixedly into his face, and saw there something which caused him to answer hastily : f ** And, sefior capitan, I am glad to meet yon, also. Perhaps these men will believe me now, when an officer of their government vouches for me, “And you do vouch for him, do you, Monsieur le Cupitaine?” asked the sergeant. “*T do, most assuredly. This gentleman is no more the Chevalier Corsair, thanare you. Look elsewhere for the outlaw,” and the disguised chief seated himself at the Spaniard’s table and called for another bottle of wine, while the dis- appointed crowd moved slowly away, the cab rioleteer and guards cursing their ill-fortune in losing the reward offered for the capture of the famous sea rover. And, as the crowd fell back from the table Don Hernandez, the treacherous young kins- man of Don Ivan Enderos, smiled sweetly in the face of the corsair, and said, in a determin- ed, menacing way: ““My dear Captain Belmont, you saved me from a most unpleasant predicament, and one look into your eyes told me who was my pre- server, for, though a cabrioleteer may mistake me for you, there can be but one such face as yours,’ ’ **Don Manuel is inclined to be compliment- ary,” answered the corsair, with a sneer. **No, Lam inclined to seek revenge, for, my daring Chevalier Corsair, the fifty thousand offered for your head will replenish my purse, and J have you now in my power.” CHAPTER XX, DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. Even taking into consideration tat he held the Chevalier Corsair wholly in his power, Cap- tain Manuel Hernandez, the handsome young spendthrift, did not like the smile with which the chief received his assertion of intended be- trayal, for there was something behind it that made hiro feel anything but pleasant. “Perhaps you did not understand me aright, sefior; I said I would hand you over to the au- thorities and pocket the reward for your appre- hension,” he said, after a moment’s silence, in which tue Chevalier had drummed on the table with his knuckles and continued his incompre- hensible smile. ‘*Oh, yes, I understood perfectly, that if Cap- tain Manusi Hernandez would rob bis kinsman and his beautiful cousin of their gold, he would willingly betray an outlaw to get a reward offered for him,” and the Chevalier was as cour- teous as though he had no enmity against his companion, ‘* And I intend to do so, for, curse you, Cap- tain Belmont, after getting possession of the gold you returned it—ay, and the girl. too, whom I had gotten into my power.” ‘I did se, for you falsely represented to me that your kinsman held your rightful inher- itance, and that he had no children. I discov- ered that the gold was his own, and that he had a daughter, whom you were revengeful against for having refused the offer of your hand. served you, Manuel Hernandez, for once hav- ing aided me to escape in Havana when my life was in danger, = ‘‘But the debt I more than repaid, as you know, and between us now there is no feeling but enmity; so beware of how you cross my path in the future!” “Hal ha! ha! I sought you not, for it was ned who came to me,” rudely laughed the Span- “That I know, and I did so, just as you came to my succor once; but you saved me for gold and I saved you tu repay that debt, which, as Paine ner thos ad ssc Bai bi a " ‘ « a od a4 ~ we y 4a " is ‘. . UAT er er eee sip “Ha! you fling an insult in my teeth?” cried the Spaniard, with anger. ‘*Take it as you please, sefior.” “But, it is foolish for me to quarrel with a man who has a halter around his neck, so I will simply again ask you what you will pay for yourself?” : ‘* Not one onza !” | “What! are you tired of life, and wish te die?” ** Not by the halter, sefior; but, 1 offer you no gold for my life,” “You are rich; you have captured many treasure-ships of my own Government, and fitt taousand pesos are not much for you to put in the balance against your life.” ‘‘ Not a peso, sefior; you have my answer.” “Then I shail call the keeper of the eabaret, bid him send for the guards, and turn you over’ as the Chevalier Corsair, and my visit to New Orleans will not prove wholly fruitless,” ‘“And, sefor, if you betray me, I shall make known ‘the fact. that the A norable Captain Manuel Hernandez, of the Spanish army, en- tered into a compact with the Chevalier Cor sair to rob his kinsman, and—” ' ‘*Tfold! no one will believe you.” ‘Then I can summon your sweat cousin, the Sefiorita Stella Enderos and her maid, Ninetta, as witnesses.” ** And where -will you find them,” sneered the © Spaniard. ‘* Hal that reminds me: Manuel Hernandez, I placed you and your cousin, with all ber fa- ther’s treasure, upon a fishing polace+, whose — skipper I paid to run you into the port near where I left you, and, yet, when Don Ivan En- deros was at home, two days after, his daughter had not returned; what means this, Sefior Span- iard?” and the eyes of the Chevalier burned like coals of fire as he turned them upon the ; young officer. : “*It means, sir corsair, that I took possession of the polacca, aud—” ““Nonsense; the skipper had four men with him, and you were but one.” “Gold will accomplish, sometimes, what strength and courage cannot,” was the suggest- ive reply. “Coward! and vou have the Sefiorita Ende- ros in your power?’ hissed the corsair. “T have, my handsome Chevalier, and the treasure, too. Nay,more; I have also Belmont, the Buccaneer, in my power,” and a devilish light danced in the Spaniard’s dark eyes, while his hand fingered nervously the hilt of kis short sword. For a moment both men sat gazing at each other, and then the Chevalier Corsair said, ha his deep tones, which showed how greatly he was moved: ‘*Don Manuel Hernandez, you shall rue this dastard deed.” ‘“No threats, sir chief, for I hold the win-- oe hand in this game, and your life his the stake. CHAPTER XXIJ. THE TABLES TURNED. THE cool manner of the Chevalier again non- plused Captain Hernandez; for when he threat- ened that the life of the corsair was at stake to see him wholly indifferent to an announcement — which he thought would make his face livid, re- bounded upon himself, when it failed in the effect he had intended. “You take it coolly, certainly,” he tersely — aid. ‘While there’s life there’s hope, sefior,” was the smiling reply. ‘‘But, there is no hope for you—unless you consider yourself worth what the Government is willing to pay for you.” ** And I do not ;/the Government flatters me, — and if ’twere known that the stories told ef my numerous robberies of American vessels upon the high seas were utterly false, they would not — offer a peso for my head. “*T command anarmed vessel, it is true, Sefior Hernandez, and fly a flag of my own liking, but Lam not the sea robber that Lam represented. But, I am not on trial, beforeyou, so it matters not what I am, so I will bidfyou adios.” “Hold! I tell you, sir chief, you are my pris- oner,” and the Spaniard drew a pistol, at which the Chevalier laughed scornfully. And, as they thus stood, a party of gentlemen separated themselves from the erowd in the cabaret, and went forward to the table that was empty, and near where the two men sat. ' At a glance the Chevalier, who was facing them, saw that they were nav full uniform, and it.buti bf uae VAT officers, an his peril, f be rae bs din | for} ww audeesy ob eseceehetutcose? oF ff 1 eat tw
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he, in his di , Was attired as an officer STi | of the United States navy. : ou There were two officers—a young and hand- tI) Somecaptain, and a dashing young middy ;—the ) latter was none other than Walter Nevil, who ez, hadso attentively regarded the movements of the) the strange schooner, that, disguised as a priva- teer, had carried Victor De Lisle into Boston nt;} Bay the night of his meeting Marian Dalton in the grave-yard, and his painful visit to his ol, father’s home. The other was Harold Sylves- ter, whose gallantry on a cruise in South Seas ed against the buccaneers had lately won him a captaincy, and the command of as pretty a brigantine as sailed the ocean. ‘a With remarkable presence of mind, the cor- il} air arose, and pointing to Manuel Hernandez, or) said aloud: “Sefior, my duty compels me to denounce you, now that I know I am mistaken in you,” and leveling a pistol, he covered the heart of the surprised and angry Spaniard, and turning to Captain Sylvester and Walter Nevil, who with others approached, at the ringing de- nouncemeuéof the Spanish captain, the Cheva- lier eontinued alond: . ‘Gentlemen, this person was arrested awhile since as the rover known as Belmont, the Bucca- heer, and the Chevalier Corsair, and believing that [ recognized him, I so told the guard, and kept him from going to prison; but now I de- nounes hiin as a robber.” _ ‘* What! the Chevalier Corsair? Move an inch, sir, and you die!” and Harold Sylvester Sprung forward and pressed his sword against the breast of the astounded Spaniard, who shout- ed fiercely: Chevalier Corsair.” A laugh from the crowd followed, and smiling ., ‘‘Messieurs, is not this the man, whom, be- pm I recognized as Captain Manuel Hernan- dez, of the Spanish army, I saved from arrest?” ““{b is! it is the very same!” cried a number of voices, for many who came in with the guards had remained. “ Winding m y mistake I now arrest: him, and as your vessel is doubtless in port, captain, I place him in your charge, I being simply here on special duty,” and the Chevalier bowed to Harold Sylvester. withinafew minutes, Mr. Nevil, call the men!” and ibe midshipman, at the order of his com- mander, went forward, where, at a table, sat halt a dozen seamen—the boat’s crew—whom their captain bad brought to the cabaret to give them a treat ef grog. “ Mr. Nevil, see that this famous rover goes at once on board the brigantine, and in déuble irons; then meet me at the Theatre d’ ANS, where I will await you. Hold! if you resist you shall be shot dead in your tracks.” The last remark was addressed to the astound- ‘ed and livid Spaniard, who was trembling with og as whose burning eyes were tatned upon the Chevalier with bitterest hatred. “Tam Captain Manuel Hernandez, and that man is the Chevalier Corsair, as I can prove,” he hissed forth, in a yoice so husky with passion he eould hardly articulate. as him away, Nevil, and if he resists shoot him down, though it were a pity to dis- ‘appoint the hangman,” sternly ordered Captain Sylvester, and, as the seamen dragged Captain ermaandez away, the throng followed, so that the salon was nearly emptied of its guests; but the Chevalier turned to the American officer, and said, pleasantly : “Though we are of the same service, sir, I have not the honorof your name. Mine is Victor, of the Constitution frigate.” It was a desperate risk, for Harold Sylvester might have been well acquainted with ‘the ofli- eer of ne name; ah Renee: that oe — n and he answere easantly, seeing t ak of his eompanion: ° 4 ‘. “Tam glad to meet you, Lieutenant Victor, ‘end [ewe you an eternal favor in ving over to me that famous pirate, whom I had orders to hunt down and whose vessel 1 must yet cap- ture; but you shall have the credit of ‘his cap- ture, Tassure you. My name is Harold Sylves- ter, sir, and I command the brigantine-of-war untress. Come, let us have a glass of wine to- jays Here, my pretty girl, a bottle of your Burgundy, please.” The wine was brought and the two seamen tipped glasses, the naval officer little dreaming of the ci and clever ruse that bad been ane upon him, and that the famous Cheva- r Corsair was then seated opposite to him, As the chief set his giase down he saw a young girl, and one he. had noticed oe out of the cabaret- rs private r when the Spaniard was enter the room and beckon to him. He eould not mistake the sign, for a second time she distinctly signaled to him, and, rising quietly, he said: “Pardon me, Captain Sylvester, for a mo- “ment,” toward the half-open door, which (orn Set Mc a hi unno- by t le ebaser, whe had his that ot Ea ls ’ af ery) el GT peed Tee OME NO ous Be “ It is false! that man who stands there is the | pleasantly the real corsair turned to the crowd: | ** L thank you, sir; he shall be in double irons | et te. Fs tain dsaatesbasa direction, and the others in the salon were busy over their cards and dominoes. “Come, monsieur, for you are discovered; | the sefor met his consul, who recognized him, and they .re consulting outside to seize you now,” saia the young girl, hastily, and with evident alarm. ‘And whom do you think I am, mademoi- | selle?”’ asked the Chevalier, with a coolness that almost drove the gir! wild. ‘“*T know who you are; I saw you disguise yourself in the area. Come with me, quick, for I would save you, and thus return a service you rendered my lover once—th, come! for do you not hear the steady tramp of the guard?” The Chevalier did hear the heavy tread, and they halted at the cabaret door; | quickly: ‘You are a noble girl. follow you.” And, just then, the startling tones of Mid- shipman Walter Nevil were heard in the caba- ret: Lead on, and I will ‘* Captain Sylvester, we have made a terrible | mistake, for the man we left with you was the Ohevalier Corsair !” CHAPTER XXII, A KIDNAPPER CAUGHT. | In the darkness the Chevalier felt a firm grasp upon ‘his hand, and, following without hesita- tion, he was led along a narrow passage, up a pair of stairs, through another .corridor, and then his fair guide paused and ‘said, in a low tone: | © Wait here a minute.” : He heard her glide away, and several mo- ments passed ere she returned, and thenshe said: ** Hore is the mask of a priest, cowl, robe and all. Putit on; and then I will lead you, by an | other way, to the street.” | Hesilently obeyed, rolling up his cloak and hat | and hiding it beneath the long, priestly garb, | and silently followed her, by another way than | that they had come, until they stopped at a | door beyond which were heard the voices of | merry masqueraders in the street. . | - This door leads you out upon the Rue St. | Pierre, and you are now so thoroughly dis- guised you can even return to the cabaret and not be known. Adieu, monsieur!” She held forth her hand, and the Chevalier, by the light of the hall lamp, gazed into her face, while he said, epapert & { “I owe you my life, mademoiselle, and you are a noble girl; but, why do you serve me, when, it I remember aright, we have never be- fore met?” ‘‘Monsieur, from my room in the cabaret, forIlam the daugbter of the proprietor, I saw you enter the area, and quickly make the change that so disguised you; yet I believed it but a freak of Carnival night, until, I beard the — in the salon say they were in chase of e famous Chevalier Corsair, and then I de- termined to save you, for once niy lover, Pierre Louis, received a good turn at your hands, for, when you rescued some of your men from pris- on in St. Iago, he was there, condemned to death for taking life, and you freed him, too. Now I repay the debt of gratitude.” The Chevalier took the little hand in his, slipped a sparkling diamond upon one of the slender fingers, and said, in his low, pleasant tones: ‘*Mademoiselle, your name, please?” “* Louisette Soto, monsieur.” ‘‘A name I shall ever remember, my sweet girl, and that I may not be forgotten, wear this ittle souvenir, to remind deed this night. Farewell.’ He passed out of the door before she could re- ply, and mingled with the gay throng, many a | pious Catholic saluting the supposed priest with | respect, and little dreaming whom the priestly you of your noble garb concealed beneath its dark folds. As if having already decided upon his course, ) he moved swiftly along through the crowds that thronged the streets, turning his steps in ) the direction of the old ruined monastery, or Son vent, where dwelt in solitude, the Padre Bo- to. Evidently he had traversed the dismal way before, for he entered the ruin unhesitatingly, traversed the long, dark corridor, and soon ap- Spor oan tbe door of the padre’s cell: but, there 1e stopped suddenly, for a low whisper fell upon | his ears, | “Is it the sefior padre?” he asked, ian a low } tone, But no reply came, and still as a statue stood the chief, for, instinctively, be felt the presence | of a human being near him, though not a word broke the deathlike silence. “Padre Bonito, it is I—El Maldito,” he again said, giving a password he knew Would be re- cognized, if his voice was not. till no answer came, and he moved cantious- ly forward, to suddenly have his extended hand come in contact with a human face. And instantly bis hand was grasped firmly, while n instinct told him his life was in dan- r,and he threw up bis disengaged arm, his ort bladeonguard, . ¥ a. My aigeeaae PRL ee ed k pumieie, Ate a Sar ut he said, | And just in time, for against the steel clashed steel, while sparks of fire flew from the blades and lighted up, momentarily, the face of each. ‘* Holy padre, forgive me!” cried the voice of the assailant, while be suddenly dropped his | arms to his side; but the Chevalier was now | aroused, fully, and in an instant, almost, by an effort of his wonderful strength, he hurled his adversary to the stone floor, and the click, click, of steel clasps proved be was securely manacled. ‘*Oh, sefior, save me! for the love of the Vir. gin save me!” The soft, pleading tones arose from the dark. ness beyond, and instantly the Chevalier cried; ‘“*T will, lady, for such your voice proves you to be. Have no fear, for you are sate now, and | I will look to this gentleman, who has been | playing a devil’s game.” As he spoke he dragged his prismer forward a few steps, and taking from his pocket a key, placed it in the lock of the duor leading to Pa. | dre Bonito’s cell. With a creaking sound the door swung open and a dim light from the window floodea th¢ room; butit was occupantiless, Raking up.the smoldering coals on the hearth the Chevalier lighted the iron lamp, that stood on the table, and turned upon his prisoner. ‘*Stand there, sir. and if you make an effort to, escape you seal your doom,” he said, sternly, while he crossed the room and stepping out into the corridor beheld a form crouching down. be- side the wall. “Lady, come with me, for you are in no dan ger now,” be said, in a kindly tone. She arose to her feet, and he saw that her hands were bound behind ber back, and that a gag had been placed across her mouth; but he involuntarily started as he beheld the face turn- ed upon him—a face to remember through @ lifetime. By her rich dress and aristocratic air he saw that she was of high birth, and the jewels she wore proved that she came also of wealthy pa- rentage, while her innocently beautiful face, and exquisitely molded form, would drive a artist into raptures of admiration. *) Turning her large, earnest eyes upon the Chevatier, whom she believed to be a priest, she | * ip tae: said, in a voice of rare sweetness, though it trembled a little with excitement: ‘** Holy padre, you have rendered me a service my brother and myself will never forget.” “Lady, I am not as you believe—a priest. This is Carnival time, and I assumed this garb _ merely for the evening; but I am happy in hay- ing served you,” and he led her into the ce where he at once threw aside the artistic face o' a priest which be wore, and bis robe also, and stood in his uniform of a naval officer, his hand- some, fascinating face turned upon the maiden — in all its earnestness, ‘Oh, monsieur, what a metamorphosis,” she cried, in almost childish delight; but he made no reply and turned to the prisoner, who did not seem to relish the change from priest te sailor, and muttered forth: ‘*] thought you bad an iron hand, for one who counts beads and fumbles prayer-books.” ' He was a fine-looking young creole, with dark face, marked with utter recklessness and dissi- pation, and yet, withal, had a look of frankness and kindness upon it that was winning; for it softened what was bad in the countenance. He was dressed as a sailor, and at his belt — hung the sheath, from which he had drawn his — knife to attack the Chevalier. “Well, sir, what have you to say for your dastard act?” demanded the chief, sternly. “Til-fortune led me to seek gold any way could make it, sefior; and I engaged in a little secret service for the Padre Bonito, whom you doubtless know, as you seem well acquainted with his den,” was the reckless reply. “The Padre Benito bade you bring this lady here?” c “He did, sefor; [ was to meet him here at — this hour,” answered the young man, and yet ; with acertain air of respect which the Chevalier could not fail to command. wl “Lady, your pte gee roves you came not — willingly here with this fellow,” and the ch turned to the maiden, from whose hands he had _ already loosened the silk kerchief that bound — them. 7 ‘‘No, monsieur; I left my home with this ~ man, it is true; but he came with a message, as I believed, from our family priest, to the effect” that I should visit a poor woman who was dy- ing. Once here, I doubted the story, but was | seized and securély bound, for what resis Y could I offer to a strong man such as he is?" ; ‘* And you say that the Padre Bonito teld you to re pe —_ lady to his cell?” x “He did; this is the Mademoiselle Manine ” Valverde, the sister of Mr. Noel Valverde. If you know aught of our aristocratic families in) the city, sefior, you will see that gold was the ~ motive, for they are rich enough to pay & © princely ransom.” =a “ Ah! well, sir, I shall punish you de~ ou as serve for this vilé act; and tine padre, whe — you say is your master in the villainy, shall ne swertome. Now I wilbsecure you so that there will be no danger of your ascape ‘befors my Dane 4 n> MA: oe - tat ele ue Ril, «de
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ttl turn, and, lady, I will then see you in safety to your home.” With a rope, that hung on a peg, he securely bound the unresisting prisoner, and then turned to the maiden. ‘‘ Now Iam at your service, mademoiselle.” ‘*Hold, sefior! Had you not better resume your priestly robe and mask before you risk your face on the public streets?” The Chevalier turned in surprise upon the who smiled pleasantly, as he lay bound upon the stone floor, “What mean you?” “JT mean that I know you, sefior, for you once did me a good turn in St. Iago, when I was going to be garoted, for being too quick with my knife, when a man cheated me at cards.” ‘Ha! your name?” * Pierre Louis, when I am in New Orleans.” The Chevalier started, for he now saw in the man before him the lover of Louisette, the girl who had saved his life half an hour before. CHAPTER XXIII. A SCENE IN THE PADRE’S CELL, It was evident that the knowledge of who his isoner was greatly moved the Chevalier, for ine Valverde (whom the reader will remem- ber seeing in her elegant home, the night of Don lvan’s adventure with Jocko) saw, without knowing why, that her preserver seemed trou- bled; but, throwing off the look he wore, the Chevalier said, quietly: “T will return and talk with you soon, sir; and should the Padre Bonito come, bid him await me here.” ‘*Whom shall I say, sefior?” asked the pris- oner, with an innocent look. ‘*The Chevalier, sir! Come, lady,” and he led Manine from the cell, locked the door, and then with his arm guided her along the dark corridor out into the open air. Once upon the streets, the Chevalier said, in an embarrassed way: ** Mademoiselle, [ havea favor to ask of you.” “Name it, monsieur, and willingly I grant it, for what could I refuse you?’ was the reply, and once more the beautiful eyes were raised to the face of the Chevalier, but only to meet the saintly-looking mask. ** Does any one know of your leaving home to- night?” **My maid only; as it was not far, I would not drive, so threw on my wrap, and a half visor to hide my face, and accompanied that wicked man, little dreaming he was leading me into a trap. But my brother, M. Noel, will have them punished,” said Manine, indignantly. “It is that very thing I would speak of, for the favor I would ask is thas you do not men- tion your adventure to-night.’ " y, sefior?”’ and the surprise of the maid- en was evident in her face. ** Let me settle itin my own good way, and I yc a you that neither the padre, nor his ireling, will ever disturb you again.” . Peeing: that she made no reply when he paused, he went on: “It would do no good to prosecute them, and I pledge you my word that they will never again molest aa will you grant my request, mademoiselle?” “*Willingly, and in spite of the mystery that hangs over all, I will trust you,” and stoppin at the iron wicket, that let into the groun surrounding the old mansion, where the Val- verdes had lived for haif a century, she con- tinued: “Here is my home, monsieur, and I only re- gret that you taboo my inviting you to visit me, that my brother might thank you for the service rendered me.” ** Mademoiselle, my own acts have given me ae ofteu before in my life, and a cruel Fate leads me ever to bring sorrow to my own heart, for, should our paths in life not cross again, a bitter regret indeed would it be to me.” . He spoke earnestly, and with a tinge of bit- terness, and impulsively Manine Valverde said, - while she laid her hand upon his arm: ** And to me, monsieur,” He raised the little hand quickly to his lips, ‘and turned away, with the same feeling in his heart that the maiden had in hers—that did not &@ wayward Destiny hold them apart, they could love each other, through storm and sunshine, een down into the senile of the grave. But, as he went along, retracing his steps to «the old ruin, the vision of sweet Marten Dalton | arose before bim, and he remembered ber sad, pitiful face, as the moonlight streamed down upon it that night in the cemetery, when she by her father’s grave, and he groaned aloud, rather than spoke: ** Poor, poor Marian! Your sweet nature won my boyish heart in that happy bygone time; but my own hand bas divided us forever, and - *twere better that our paths divided, for from , this night I know that the one woman on earth to me I have just met,” and after awhile he | added; ‘‘Ah, me, what strange things these hearts of ours are! They throb with joy, they ache with pain, and yet obey no laws. had now reached the ruin, and once more entered its dark and dismal wails, to soon stand at the door of the padre’s cell, ; ~~ - 7 The Chevalier Corsair. Opening the door with his key, he entered and found his prisoner still lying where he ha left him. ** Well, sir, I have returned, as I promised.” ‘*So I see, sehor; I knew you would come,” was the response of the captive, ** And the padre has not returned?” “He has not, and I cannot aecount for it—ha! there is a step in the corridor.” A tap on the door followed his words, and opening it, having just cast a blanket over the bound prisoner as he lay in the corner, the Chevalier beheld before him Pierre Jacot, the k rof the cabaret where he had met Ivan the Hanchback. and where he always stopped himself when in New Orleans. ‘*Bah! Thisold hall is asdark as the approach to Purgatory, and, had I not brought my lan- tern, I would have shattered my precious shins —sacré ! why were not our shins placed under the calves of our legs, sefior, by Dame Nature— Mon Diew! but you are not Pierre!” and the man started back, as he now saw that he was addressing a different person from the one he had expected. ‘*No, good Jacot, but I am one whom you well know—see !” ‘*The Chevalier!” ‘““Ay, and I came hither to see the padre, after which I was intending to return to my quarters in your cabaret.” “You will have to look elsewhere for the padre, sefior.” ‘*What! has barm befallen him?’ ‘He has his fate in his own hands, Sefior Chevalier; if he chose to leave this old stone- pile and skim the seas, if is his own look-out.” ‘Pierre Jacot, what mean you?” asked the chief, in evident surprise. **] will tell yeu all that I know, Sefior Cheva- lier; the padre sailed to-night for blue water and sent me the following note,” and be handed the chief a piece of paper, which was addressed to Pierre Jacot, and which he read aloud: ** Jacor: “Go to my home in the ruin, and you will find there one Pierre Louis, awaiting me with a captive. Bid him bear her back to her own roof once more in safety, and await at the Cabaret Soto uutil I commu- nicate with him, **Tell him to keep sober, or he shall forfeit every peso promised him; and more, forI sail to-night on a cruise that will bring gold untold to me, and those who serve me well, ONITO,"’ “And sent he no word to me, Jacot?” asked the Chevalier, who seemed deeply moved, ‘* None, sefor; that is all.” **T noticed a note on yonder table, sefior, ad- dressed to ‘ The Chevalier.’” The voice came from the corner, and Pierre Jacot gave a cry of alarm, which brought a ringing laugh from Pierre Louis, who certainly his ill-fortune coolly. “Tt is only the one you seek, Jacot; I found him here in hisdeviltry, and made bim prisoner,” and, as the Chevalier stepped across the room and took a note from the table, Pierre Jacot said: ‘* Ah, it is you, Monsieur Louis, is it¢ Then you have heard the message i brought you?” “Yes, but the Chevalier has saved me the trouble of escorting the lady home, and now has me in irons, as you see.” In the meantime the chief had broken the seal and was reading the note, with a face fhat was gel and stern, for what he read moved him deeply, and both Jacot and Pierre Louis saw by his burning eyes that the Padre Bonito had made an enemy of a dangerous man. CHAPTER XXIV. THE BUCCANEER’S OATH. THE note left by the Padre Bonito, and ad- dressed to ‘‘ The Chevalier,” read as follows: “SeNor: “When love turns to hatred it is most bitter, and thus now is the feeling I have for you. “Once we were friends; in fact, so dear was our on that, when I, for a crime committed in your far Northern land, was sentenced to die upon the gallows, you freed me from my irons, and in so doing placed the brand of outlaw upon yourself, and became a hinted man, “And I, peieng to my native isle of Cuba, thought to free her from the galling yoke of Spain , aS a conspirator, was seized, and again stood under the shadow of death, when a second time you released me, for the sake of the auld lang syne friendship when we were chums at college, “Alas! since then you have swept the seas as a hated pirate, and I, under the ph Jad of a Spanish monk, have found refuge in this old ruin, no one dreaming I was a wolf in sheep's clothing. “ But I tired of this humdrum life, and forgetting not the loved one, your sweet sister, Mabel, to whom, in that oleen time, I had been engaged, I | sought in my priestly garb that cold clime of New England, and begged her to be my bride, and fly with me to other lands. “And what was her reply? “Tt crushed my heart, Conrado Costello, to know that my brother was a pirate, but it has broken it to know that_you, whom I once loved, are what you are—a murderer, a conspirator.’ ‘* Well, sefior, trom her lips I learned that Ee had told her of my life, and thus began my hatred for you, which has ripened into a bitterness that makes me your foe, for past friendships I bury forever. “To-night I cut adrift from the life I lead, and, as chance places in my hand the power, I too will iy the b!ue waters as a free rover; so beware of the day that brings you across the path of Conrado 0. once known as the Papre Bonito.” a» wi < oe i, + Sa A —— 2 Thrice the Chevalier read this strange letter, }*° b from a ntan he had every reason to believe his | #24 friend, but whom he would rather have slain )7@!5 with nis own hand than see him the husband of } fait his dearly beloved sister, Mabel und - At last he turned to Jagot, and from his f. tell all emotion had gone, as he said: F ‘* Monsieur, I thank you for coming here skil serve the padre, and I would feel obliged if yow Vie would return to your cabaret and have a ho: i ready for me, as I must sail to-night, and go at | once to where my vessel waits.” ‘With pleasure, monsieur; I will go instamtly, for and your horse shall await your coming,” and) *! Jacot took up his lantern and departed, while,| tho as his receding ing pana away, the Cheva-| ast lier turned to Pierre Louis, and releasing hin) her from his irons, said: : V ‘* Rise, monsieur, and when-you return to the . int cabaret Soto, say to Mademoiselle Louisette) me that I have saved you from mischief, and in| ®*' part repaid her kind act of to-night.” Bad ‘* Louisette, sefior! have you met her?” asked | SU Pierre, with a jealous look in his eyes. Ive ‘* Yes, I was in danger of capture, and know- | ing, through you, that I had once done you & good turn, she aided my escape; but she will tell you all. Now answer me, are you bound to the Padre Bonito by any ties?” ‘*The strongest in the world, sefior—golden ones.” ‘“Ah! you serve him for gold?” ‘*True; he saw me in the streets one day, re- cognized in me a kindred spirit for evil, and to- day engaged me to kidnap the sweet lady whom you rescued from me to-night.” * And his motive was ransom?” ** Yes, sefior; he told me he had a vessel reatty to sail, and within the week would possess thirty thousand dollars ransom money.” ‘And your share was to be?” **One thousand pesos; a fair sum, sefor, for a poor devil like me,” was the frank reply. **Serve me well and I'll give you ten thou- sand, to build a home fer yourself and your pretty -Louisette; what say you, con?” ‘* Ah, sefor! if I had that sum I would never do another evil deed; but, what do you wish of | me? I hope not blood-letting, for I don’t like 2rim rs of the dead dogging me,” said. ierre, witha shudder. . “*T will ask nothing wrong of you; only await tidings of the , and when you receive his: orders, come first to me.” ‘* Willingly ; but where will I find you, sefior?” | “Go to the cabaret of Pierre Jacot; he will | tell you where to find me. Now, take this purse | of gold, and see to it that you do not throw it away upon wine; and here is the key to this cell; keep it, and if you have no better quarters come here, for, if I mistake not, you are on no good terms with the guards, and like night bet- ter for a walk than day,” “True, senor; my little peccadilloes cause me | to love darkness rather than light; but I thank you for the.gold, and will do your bidding.” He pocketed the purse, and locking the door, the Chevalier followed him out of the,cell into the lonely street, for there were few dwellin in that quarter. They parted, Pierre Louis hasten away to secure a disguise and visit Loui- | sette, and the chief to remain, gazing moodily | | at the ruin, At last he stretched forth his hand and said, — half aloud: ‘*Conrado Costello, when I risked my lifeand — honor tosave you from the gallows, I believed / you innocent of the murder of which you were | accused, and to be all that was honorable; but. now I know you as you are—the murderer of poor Professor Doane—a gambler—the basest of conspirators against your government, and a would-be assassin of your monarch; while, now that you have the power, you have proven your- self a kidnapper of women, and, if 1 check not our vile career, you may yet drag my beauti- ul sister from her far-away home and make her a guilty pee, but I will check you, Conrado | for here ] q Do kn i sel ve Heo esd 2HOebs PREC ZSS Costello, I swear by the Holy of Holies. to hunt you down on land and sea, and may Heaven register my oath!” He turned quickly and walking rapidly along the streets soon reached, the prherit of Pierre Jacot, where he mounted the horse in waiting and, still oe his priestly disguise, dashed off at a rapia gallop, in the direction of the open country. CHAPTER XXV. THE CONSPIRATOR HOLDS THE WINNING HAND, WHEN the cunning and imbittered Hunch- back arranged with the Padre Bonito to aid him in his vile design of carrying off Edna Enderos, he little dreamed that he was playing right into. the hands of a man as wicked as imeelf” As the reader has seen, in the foregoing chap- ters, the Padre Bonito was only a priest in name and dress; but in reality was the Cuban college mate of Victor De Lisle, whose deed, in killing his lia had caused him to be sen- tenced to the gallows, from which he had been saved only by the daring and noble friendshi of the man whose love for his friend had him an outlaw and a tive. Still belie in his friend, Victor De Lisle had again saved his life, when in Cuba he was TZ
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a eS ee Oe a RY ——_ ie ] iracy that would wrest the “ ever- faithful isle” trom the Spaniard, and place it under the control of himself, for Conrado Cos- tello’s ambition aimed high. Flying to New Orleans, the young Cuban had skillfully disguised himself as a priest, who had comes the meridian of life, and, as his friend, ictor, believed and hoped, had settled down to at least a quiet life; but the wily conspirator had no such idea, and through all was plotting for power once more, that he might yet return to on and claim Mabel De Lisle as his bride, though he well knew her brother, knowing at last his true character, would never consent to her union with one so vile. _ When, therefore, [van the Hunchback let him into the pian he had of carrying off Edna, will- ingly did the supposed priest consent to aid him, at the same time laying a plan to-carry out his Own ends, wWinc’: » ill soon i disclosed, and thus 22 amd Luo che tables of villainy upon Don Thwarted in bis design of carrying Edna off, n Ivan was content in saving himself, for he knew that the angry populace meant both him- self and mh ead bodily harm, and he was very thank for the timely arrival on the scene of M. Noel Valverde; but his consterna- tion at finding the caravel in motion, and him- a prisoner in his own cabin, words cannot portray. Heraved and cursed fearfully, call- ing upon every saint in the calendar to bring down anathemas upon the head of the man who had so cleverly tricked him. After an hour had passed, and the washing waves without proved that the vessel was dash. ing swiftly along, the companionway was sud- denly opened, and there entered a dark. hand- some young man with a sinister expression of eountenance and a well-knit form. He was dressed in a black cloth uniform, trimmed with gold lace, and in his sword-belt was a pistol, the companion to one he held in his pe “ Well, sefior, who are you?” and the Hunch- back turned fiercely upon the visitor, while Noel Valverde, who had been quietly seated upon a divan, coolly watching the ravings of Don Ivan, arose and faced him. “Tam Conrado Costello, sefior.” “* Ha! the Cuban conspirator?’ almost shrieked Der cet ‘* Yes, seflor, and ‘we last met undermy name of the Padre Bonito,” was the smiling reply ** Devil, I will have your lite for this!” and the Hunchback, drawing his shortsword, sprung forward; but the ringing command of Conrado Costello stopped him. ‘Hold! a score of guns cover your heart, sefior.” The Hunchback glanced up the companion- way, and his eyes fell upon the gleaming bar- rels aimed at him. With an angry growl he lowered his weapon, and said, in surly tones: ** What is your will with me, accursed traitor that you are?” “* It is to possess this beautiful vessel, which I claim as a ransom for yourself, Don Ivan.” “* What! would you rob me of my vessel, dog of a Cuban?’ “Ah, no; I exchange fairly—givd you your freedom for your vessel,” was the cool reply. ‘Oh, curse you, re, conspirator or devil; whatever you be!” yelled the Hunchback, al- most beside himself with rage. “Whichever suits your honor, Don Ivan, you may call me; but listen, my esteemed friend: ‘learning of your evil designs of revenge against the daughter of Don Henrico Enderos—” “What! can this be true, that Don Ivan held feelings of revenge against the sefiorita Edna Enderos?” asked Noel Valverde, with surprise. “No; do not believe him, monsieur; it is a part of his vile plot against me to make you think so,” declared the Hunchback, quickly. _ But Conrado Costello smiled, and then con- tinued: * Knowing that you intended, on account of your revengeful feelings against the fathér, a sad fate for the daughter, I determined to turn it to my account, so looked up a crew where | knew just such men as I wanted could be found, your beautiful vessel, wook pos- through that giant-nerved courtier us, in getting the Sefiorita Edna into my power, I thereby lost the ransom I in- tended to ask her father for her, and which would have been heavy, I assure you—” “Curses rest on you!” though to a compliment, Valverde, he continued: ** And, monsieur, as for the freedom of our Hunchback friend here I was to claim this ves- sel, and thirty thousand pesos as a ransom for the Senorita Ed I also arranged to draw upon while, turning to Noel na. you liberally, and for this purpose lured your sweet sister into a tra nf old!” z But the cry was unbeeded, for Noel Valverde was upon him with the quickness of a flash of light, aud, seizing him by the throat, hurled him upon the velvet carpet, while he cried: * Villain, for that act thou shalt die?’ growled the Hunch- | back, and the Cuban bowed and smiled, as | ‘* Sefior, shall we shoot him down?” The voice came from above, and momentarily checked the enraged creole, who had so quickly mastered his captor. ““You hear, Monsieur Valverde; my lieuten- ant asks shall it be your life or mine?” *Sefior, you are in his power, for a dozen guns cover you,” cried Don Ivan, quickly. Still the creole stood, his foot upon Conrado Costello’s breast and his sword in his hand, as though to strike. ‘* Shall we fire, deck, ‘“‘No, Merida; gold is worth more than blood,” was the cool response, and to Noel Val- verde he resumed: ; ‘*You see I spare your life, M. Noel, so take off your foot, and hear the remainder of my story, for your sister is safe, I pledge you.” The young creole silently obeyed, and rising to his feet, as though naught had occurred to anger him, the conspirator continued: ** As I said, M. Noel, knowing that you would give a rich ransom for the safe return of your sister, [lured her from her home through an accomplice; but a lucky accident, as I look on it now, placing you in my power, I sent word to have Mademoiselle Valverde reterned to her home and hold you for ransom.” ‘*Can I believe you?” asked M. Noel, sternly. 1 swear it.” ** And upon my paying ransom money you will release me?” “When we reach the Balize I will set you both on board a lugger running back to the city; that is, upon your draft for thirty thou- sand dollars upon your banker in vana, sefior?’ again came from the where Fhear you have large interests, you are | : | straint, for both felt t free, and this vessel being Don Ivan’s ransom he can go with you.” ‘*He can go his way, and I will go mine,” haughtily replied the creole; and then he added: ‘*Of course my slave is to accompany me?” ‘Oh, sefior, what a black devil that is you have with you! It took a dozen men to subdue him, when he suspected treachery, and two of : them will never breathe their Pater-nosters more, for he drove that wicked knife of his into their hearts. I will buy him from you, if you will part with him.” ‘*No, I will not sell him for any sum, poor fellow; but I suppose I can go on deck?” “Upon your parole not to attempt to es- cape.” **T give it,” and he ascended the gangway, the Hunchback slowly following, for Conrado Costello said, aneeripgly! , “A little fresh air might benefit you, too, sefior, and your parole 1 do not ask, as it is not likely you'd keep it\if you gave it, and I do not fear you will run off with the vessel.” With a muttered curse the Hunchback as- cended to the deck, and stood near M. Noel, who was moodily gazing at the dark sho as the fleet vessel, with three-score men upon her decks, was dashing swiftly along down the murky waters of the Mississippi. CHAPTER XXVIL/ A MEMORY OF THE PAST, TRUE to his promise, Conrado Costello sig- naled a coasting lugger, upon arriving at Ba- lize, and Noel Valverde, having given hs draft for the amount of ransom demanded, went on board, accompanied by Jocko, and slowly fol- lowed by Don Ivan, muttering bitter impreca- tions upon the head of the Cuban, who had caught him so cleverly in his own trap. Conscious now that Don Ivan was reall guilty, and convinced that the threat, whic had caused Jocko to spring upon him from the tree, was really meant, M. Noel held no further converse with the revengeful Hunchback, who, in turn, seemed deeply hurt, for the service ren- dered him by the young creole, as well as his not having insulted him nor shunned him on ac- count of his deformity, had made an impres- sion upon the wretched being, and caused him to feel for both M. Valverde and his beautiful sister a feeling of respect and affection—such as an ill-used dog might feel for one who treated him with kindness, where all others bestowed —_ and rs oo o the skipper of the lugger, who gazed with holy horror upon the flank teak and dwarf who had become his passengers, M, Noel offered a large sum if he would crowd on all sail and make the city as soon as possible. The money caused the small crew to spring nimbly to work, and away dashed the really swift craft back into the murky river, while the graceful cara- vel sped away, driven on like a race-horse over the blue waters of the Gulf, her three huge la- teen sails and rakish look causing the honest coasters to run inshore, not liking her foreign air and piratical a nee. With a fair breeze the lugger plowed up the sluggish stream, and in good time drop an- chor in front of the city, when a boat put the unwelcome passengers ashore, for the sailors did not like the looks of Don Ivan and Jocko, and ‘vere delighted at their departure. **Here, Don Ivan Enderos, we part, and for- ever I hope; but Jet me say now, and as a warn- ing, that though I know of your cause id for revenge against Don Henrico and his daugh- ter, if harm befall either of them, through you aig I will visit such a retribution upon you as will cause you to wish you never were born.” The lips of Don Ivan trembled, and moved, as though to reply, but the creole moved quickly away, Jocko at his heels, and, with a sigh, the Hunchback soon after walked in the direction of the cabaret of Pierre Jacot, where, at the suggestion of the supposed padre he had taken up his lodgings. Iu the mean time M. Noel walked rapidly homeward, and, upon arriving, asked the negro concierge who opened the portal at his coming: ** Where is my sister, Carlo?” “Tn her room, monsieur,” was the answer, which brought -a sigh of relief to the brother, who just then catching sight of Terese, the quadroon maid of the Mademoiselle Manine, he called to her: ‘*Here, Terese; has my sister been away from home?” ** Only to drive, sir.” “ And not alone?” “ Not alone, monsieur,” was the answer, with ready lie, for Terese knew of the visit of her mistress the night before, though she did not know where she had gone. ** And she is well, Terese?” “Yes, monsieur; only fretted that you re- mained away a giving her word: but the coachman told her you had gone to your plan- tation down the river, and she felt that it was all right.” ‘* Yes, Ihave been down the river,” and M. Noel went on to Manine’s rooms. h greeted the other ba tencap orge h yet with a certain con 4 arat £ a} J wit f ae
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16 “Harold Syivester, Captain United States Ravy;” and raere po. ne M. Noel, she continued: ** An old friend whom I met when at school North, and a splendid fellow, too; so do not leave, M. Noel, but remain and meet him.” Thus urged Noel Valverde resumed his seat, Jacques ushering wat doops naval officer into the room, he received a warm welcome from Edna, who asked: ‘What lucky star guided you to our part of the world, Captain Sylvester?” “A sailor’s lot, to go where ordered, Miss Edna, for I am sent to the Gulf, pirate-hunting, with head-quarters at your pleasant city,” ‘Tam certainly glad to hear that; but you ene ~~ will have to beware of your heart among the New Orleans beauties, or they will steal it from | sweet Mabel De Lisle.” ‘* Tt is that which troubles me, Miss Edna, for | I find, since coming here, that Mabel’s brother Victor, whom you remember the Government eutlawed, is none other than the very pirate | ebief [ have strict orders to hunt down, for I find he is none other than the famous Chevalier Gorsair.” M. Noel and Edna exchanged quick glances, - while the former said: ** An unpleasant task for you, sir, if, as 1 un- derstand, the Chevalier Corsair was once your friend.” “Yes, and more:—his sister is one whom I have ever devotedly loved, and, 1 am not | azhamed to confess it, whom I one day hope to make my wife.” The frank confession of the handsome young sailor caused M. Noel to give a sigh of relief for he had dreaded a rival in him for the hand eft Edna. Finding that his hostess and. her visitor were \ inte in the Chevalier, Harold Sylvester ; went on to tell the story of his adventure in the ca t with the bueccaneer chief, his clever ruse, by throwing the charge of outlaw upon Captain Hernandez, and his escape, and the re- turn of the Spanish captain wild with rage at 4 the indignity heaped upon him by his arrest for i 8 pirate. i. * And he escaped?” asked Edna, anxiously. ‘Oh, yes; but no one knows how, and the next I hear of poor Victor he will be at sea, fly- ing his black flag.” a ** And you failed to recall his face when. you _ sat at the table together?” i “He wors a heavy beard, which completely changed him from the Victor De Lisle I had known in boyhood, and who was nicknamed i. *The Magnificent,’ for he was a splendid-look- ; ing fellow, you remember?’ ‘No, I never met him in Boston, as he was away when his sister and myself were friends. Poor fellow, Fate has been most cruel to him.” “‘And the Government to me, to order me to hunt him down; but [ must do my duty, even | ifT have to hang him to the yard-arm of my | _ brigantine, and receive the curses instead of the love of Mabel.” But, before any reply was made to the sad re- & mark of the young sailor, Don Henrico’ entered | the room, his face pale, his manner nervous, h aad it was evident to all that he had just passed through some painful scene. ay What it was that had left its impress upon t Don Henrico the next chapter niust reveal } CHAPTER XXVII. THE LAST WARNING, Don Henrico ENDEROS was sauntering slowly along St. Charles street, having just come from the fasbionable club, of which he was a mem- ber, when he felta light tap on the arm, and, turning, he bebeld the hideous face of the Hunchback peering up into his own. Involuntarily he started, for, since the unsuc- cessful attempt to carry Edna off, he hoped that Don Ivan would not dare venture to New Or- leans again, at least, not for awhile, and he was |, plotting some means by which he might rid FE Bimselt of this revengeful being upon his track, * to demand the fulfillment of one of the three |” oaths sworn to in the long ago. ue “Tt would have been better for me had I been ) . left to grow upin the mountains of old Spain, ’ and become a bandit—ay, anything rather than - have my life thus made wretched by this ac- - eursed being,” he said, gloomilv, as he walked S©6=—s along on his way home, and just then it was that be turned to bebold tue object of his | ~=—s._-s thoughts. r _ Ab, brother, Iam glad we again meet, for ’ I would see you,” said the Hunchback, in his ') gmave way, but beneath which lay such a tor- ‘sent of passion and hatred. ~ “It is more cian 1 can gay for you, Ivan,” es the gloomy rejoimler. stort ss — of pk ce ‘\oqe- 7 * A a ee ESE Oe ee ae ee a ee ee ee ee ee ee eee ae The Ch > ee evalier Corsair. A walk of some moments brought them to the private door of Jacot’s cabaret, and the Hunchback led the way to his comfortable room on the second floor. “* Now, be seated, brother Henrico, and we will have a pleasant little chat.” Don Henrico threw himself resignedly into a chair, as he responded: ‘* You and I can never have one pleasure to- gether, Ivan. Well, what have you to say?” “*T failed in my attempt to carry Edna off.” le So I know, and heartily glad am I that you id Res “Ha! this sounds as though you were getting up courage to keep one of the other two oaths, | and give up your life or your gold.” ‘Tt were better that I should die, with this | treble terror hanging like the sword of Damo- cles over me forever, for it is slowly killing me.” Don Ivan rubbed his shapely hands together as though in high glee at the misery he caused, and laughed in his soft, musical way, but which jarred so harshly upon the heart of Don Hen- rico, After a while he asked: “Who was the man you paid to rescue Edna, after I had successfully entrapped her?” “The man J hired? Why, Don Ivan, you | think of me, Don Henrico, when it barat ¢ be rico nervously, for he had never seen the before, or knew of his existence. ‘* Hardly human! and yet how strangely myself! No, I will not enter your home, Henrico, until I come to claim the keeping your Oath.” ** But the monster may attack you?” ‘Ha! ha! ha! bow generous on your consummation devoutly hoped for by you did bh killme! But remember my warning,” and th Hunchback turned away without another word while Don Henrico hastily entered his own door giving one nervous glance over his sh) ulder, an discovering that the Dwarf was slowiy follow ing on the steps of the Hunchback, ‘** He cannot be his companion, for he starte Ps with alarm, as I did, at sight of him; and yet fu they are strangely alike in deformity! Ah God grant that [van Enderos may die by thé 4, | hand of the black monster!” and with this) 4} ened upon his pallid lips he entered the par a ors of his own home, nervous and trembling. | y CHAPTER XXVIII. THE LAKESIDE CABIN, 1 st Ir will be remembered that when the Cheva-) 4 lier Corsair left Jacot’s cabaret, it was on horse- a back, and he rode out into the country, taking) ¢ dream, for I know not to this day who he was. | Doubtless, though, some young cavalier of our city, from what Edna tells me.” here was no doubt upon Don Ivan’s mind now that his brother was innocent of having planned a rescue of his daughter; but he added: ‘*Some young gallant of the town, you say? Bah! he was a man of lion courage and iron arm, for he handled both myself and—and— and my accomplice with perfect ease. Did he not make himself known to Edna?’ “Tt seems not; he drove her home, and went away in the cabriolet he himself hired, refusing to come into the mansion.” ‘* A strange man, indeed; and, now I think of it, his form, his bearing, and his herculean strength recall to my mind one personage who is an exception to his fellow-men.” “And that is—” ** Never mind; he is one whom both my beau- tiful niece avd yourself have cause to dread, should he seek your friendship; but, we wander from the subject, so let us resume.” “What would you wish, Ivan?’ and Don Henrico became a shade paler. ‘** Oh, the keeping of one of your oaths: which shall it be, dear brother?’ and the Hunchback smiled as sweetly as theugh he had asked the most ordinary question. “Oh God! Ido not know,” broke from the trembling lips of Don Henrico. “Tt must be one, Henrico.” **T know it, alas! I know it but too well; but, Ivan, can you not compromise? Will you not take balf my fortune, and —” “Half your fortune? Why, my darling bro- ther, it slips your treacherous memory thet itis my fortune, not yours. Shall I recite the story over again, that you may be edified, and I made more bitter, how our noble father—” ‘*No! no! no!” ‘Of course you nor I are really to blame, dear brother; but then you know the creed that visits upon the children the sins of the father, and while I was cast aside on account of my hideousness, although honorably born, you, the basely born, because of your noble presence, was placed in my shoes, for, innocent little ba- bies that we were, we of course could not object or acquiesce, and our father was content; but my mother loved me, even though I was a hor- ror in the eyes of mankind, and she it was who sought me secretly, and instilled into my heart the heritage of hatred I hold against you, and my heart becoming as deformed as my body, I claimed of you recompense for the honor you held, the riches you squandered, and all I asked was one of three oaths. Which one will you keep; I again ask?’ Don Henrico made no reply, and sceied so overwhelmed with grief, that the Tiuncuback said, after amnoment’s thought: *T will not demand an answer to-oight, Hen- rico, but give you time, as I have a pressing matter to attend to just now; but within the month, it may be sooner, I shall claim the keep- ing of one of that treble oath, so do not forget. Now come, and | will walk with you on your way homeward.” Silently Don Henrico arose, and the two assed out together, and slowly walked in the direction of the elegant mansion of the unfortu- nate man, to whom life was rapidly becoming a burden, As they neared the house, and passed beneath a row of gloric. mundi trees bordering the pave, a dark object dropped down behind them with a heavy thud, and, turning quickly, from the lips of each broke a startled ery. ‘In God’s name, what is it?’ asked Don Hen- rico; but Don lvan made no reply, for he recog- nized the Black Dwarf. the slave of Noel Val- verde, and he felt that his steps were being dogged, for the warning of the voung creole came to Lis memory, ana a shudder crept over his frame; ; Come, let us go into the mansion, for the creature seems hardly human,” cried Dou Hen- <a Se aif Sh Ge hes re ee aie A ’ i oe 4 a) <i “ — Hato Matin! 5 “uy fig ad é | that bordered the beach, not far distant, for the the road leading along a lagoon, and bordering a cypress swamp, which stretched away in the direction of the lake. It was a lonely, gloomy ride, with the croak- ing of the frogs, the shrieking of the nightbirds, the splash of the alligators, and the sighing of the winds through the moss-draped trees; but, unheeding these dismal sounds, and even un- noticing the triling of a mocking-bird ina magnolia forest in tho distance, the Chevalier rode steadily on, his horse needing no urging from the master, who seemed wholly wrapt in his own meditations. At length he came to a path that branchea off to the left, and led through a dense forest wash of the waves mingled with the other sounds. A ride of half a mile brought him to an n- ing, in which stood an humble white cabin, a lamp gleaming torth from its windows in the rear, and which looked out upon the pathway, for the roadway had stopped at the entrance to the timber. The cabin, though of one story, was built with several wings, and occupied considerable ground. It was known to the Chevalier to bea resort of lake fishermen, and, some supposed, even the rendezvous of the smugglers; but, though a close watch had been kept upon the occupants, nothing had ever been discovered against them by the keen-eyed officers of the law. Riding slowly by, the Chevalier seemed anx- ious to avoid detection; but a loud laugh sud- denly caused him to bring his horse to a halt, while he distinctly heard the words: “If the captain don’t come tonight, lads, we'll be merciful and set the lady free, while we fingers his gold ourselves.” The remark was in Spanish, a language the Chevalier spoke fluently, and it caused him to ride off into the forest, fasten his horse, and re- turn on foot, and cautiously, to the cabin. Approaching by the side, for it was only half a score rods from the lake shore, he came to a halt upon the rude porch in front, and could distinctly hear voices within, and a patois French mingling with the low Spanish of the West Indies. But it was not the foreign tongues that inter- ested the Chevalier, but thesubject of their con- verse, ‘**Messieurs, you order more of your Spenish wine, I believe?” asked a voice in reneh patois, and who was evidently the keeper of the sea- side tavern, or cabaret, for such the place was. “Yes, more of our native grape-juice,” re- plied one in Buglish, and he added, in Spanish: ‘We will take a bottle for every quarter of an hour the captain detains us here, lads,” ‘* Bravo!” shouted balf a dozen voices, and the speaker went on: ‘** You are making an onza a day, camaradas. and I, as captain, two onzas, so we should not complain, for it beats fishing off our own green isle, to which we can soon return with goid for our families.” ‘““You mean the treasure-kegs, camarada?” asked a voice. ‘*Oh! if aught has befallen the ceptain, and we take these, we'll be as rich es the Done ot old Spain; but we must be benesr ) et awhile, for the captain may return all rigit.” “ And the sefiorita?’ “Ah, poor lady! I wish she were not on our hands, avd I fear me the capitan is cruel to ber: but that is his business, not ours, for we are paid to keep our mouths shut, and not to Jet her es. cape.” The last words heard by the Chevalier Corsair seemed to determine him as to his course, for he: arranged his pistols and blade to hand and © tapped lightly upon the door, <A nstently there wasa dead silence within,and — again he rapped. ; pe * Look to your de comarad ida voice, evidently the leader, who ae PEE ROUTE EEE RO Cae eee a "sa oe 4 . = ae * ie™ Gs EDs
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a, ae | =O of ee ee } ; Bena and ina loud tone, and in French, the dlord asked: ‘Who comes?” Still wearing his priestly garb, the Chevalier answered, in a deep voice: * & holy father seeks rest beneath thy roof, | my son.” A bar was removed, a key grated in the lock, = “a door swung open, and in stepped the ef. There were six men in the room, besides the diminutive French landlord. They were mus- cular, bold-looking fellows, dressed in boots, duck pants, woolen shirts and tarred tarpaulins, while in their belts were a knife and pistol. The room was large, had a bar at one end, and behind it shelves filled with bottles, while sev- eral tables, benches and chairs comprised the furniture. At the entrance of the supposed padre all arose and crossed themselves devoutly, while the leader of the West. Indian fishermen, or coast traders, for such they were, stepped for- | ward and said, with deep respect: ‘* Thy blessing, padre!” the Chevalier be- With well-feigned ge stowed his blessing, and, dashing off a glass of choice wine handed him by the keeper, he said, addressing more particularly the leader, and in Spanish: ““You are the crew of the West Indian lug- | So .cader charter of Captain Manuel Hernan- ez i ** We are, padre,” was the answer. “1 left the captain to-night, and I have or ders for you, my son,” ** Al! no mishap has befallen him, then?” “‘A mishap, yes; but it will not be of long duration, yet detain him a sufficieut time to an- noy the Seforita Stella, who is on board your lugger, and I have. come to take her into my seebtng, as also the treasure-kegs you have on rd. . Sent he no written order, boly padre, or his signet?” asked the lugger’s capvain, ‘Is more needled than the word of the priest of thy church, my son?’ asked the Chevalier, sternly. _ ‘No, no; forgive me, holy father; but I have im my keeping a fair lady left with me by the captain to guard with my life, and also a trea- sure of thousands upon Socuamncie of pesos, and it is but natural I should be careful in what I do, for our master has paid us liberally, and left us with the intention of returning ‘hither last we : *“You are ven, m ‘ 1 is’ at eee he sai, in—” oe oo sieges “The mouth of the lagoon half a mile dis- tant, holy father. Whatate thy wishes?” Before the Chevalier could reply there re- sounded without the rapid clatter of hoofs, a sudden halt was heard, and into the still open door strode Don Manuel Hernandez! CHAPTER XXIX. THE FLIGHT AND PURSUIT. At the sudden, unlocked-for, and certainly undesired presence of Captain Manuel Hernan- dez, the very personage from whom he was erotesing to be a messenger, it is eg tana A to state the Chevalier was taken aback, thoug he did not exhibit by act or word any discon- certion, for he had been too often in despe- rate situations, where cool courage alone could save him, to exhibit nervousness, even though | the odds were fearfully against him. ‘Ah, my son, lam glad you have come, for I was just gory your camaradas that I had | ty seen you in the city,” said the Chevaher, with the utmost sang froid of manner and speech. Don Manuel, in spite of the evil life he led, held the priesthood of his church too sacred to contradict a padre, so said, inquiringly: ‘Then we have met before, holy father? Forgive my treacherous memory.” This remark was a stunner to the West-In- Pie crew, and the lugger’s skipper said has- “Seflor, the holy father told us he came as a messenger from you.” A movement of the Chevalier’s arm caused Don Manuel Hernandez to start, while he cried out ina loud tone; at means this, padre? Do the priests of | America go fully armed, and wear uniforms be- neath their robes?” Without replying the Chevalier suddenly bounded forward, his trusty blade in one hand, and his pistol in the other, and the Spaniard te ae to, the floor with vjolence, while one of the lugger’s cre im fe dead in his tracks, Vee, Appred ha. fei And. then loud cries, curses, and lagu g of} | t feet followed; tut out of the open door ha he Chevalier bounded, , and throwing himself astride of the parisony waiting steed of Don Manuel, he dashed oif like the wind, followed by a volley of pistol-shots and impreca ions, as he disappeared, apparently unhurt, in the dark megnolia forest. ‘After him, for it is Belmont, theBuccancer! A hundred onzas to the man who \brines him down!" cried the diseomfited Captegn Hernan- Hez, peeing te his teet livid wit ope a the golden reward ieee id's ee “page, and | reward sent the West losa‘’ The Chevalier Corsair. Indians into the woods in hot pursuit, one of | them to utter a how] of terror, and come fiying | back toward the cabin, while his cry of alarm startled the others into a rapid retreat. ‘What is it, sir?” yelled Captain Hernandez, who was rubbing himself after his fall, which | had been by no means a light one. ' “Oh, sehor! the devil! the devil!” howled the frightened man, crossing himself, and rapid- ly mumbling his prayers, “The devil! wnat mean you? Speak, or I will prove a worse mat 4 than his Satanic majesty,” and the Spanish captain drew his sword. | ‘Oh, sefior! it was in truth the devil! horns, hoofs and tail, and I ran right into his arms and felt his hot breath in my face. At first I fell down to pray. but feeling bis cloven hoofs, and knowing he liked not prayer, I sprung to my feet and fled. Ah, santissima! santissima ! my soul will be damned.” he manner and wild recital of their comrade impressed all, even to Captain Hernandez, and the flight of the Chevalier was momentarily forgotten; but, remembering how dangerous a foe he was, the Spaniard determined to face even the devil to get him in his power, so, call- ing to the men to follow him, he drew his sword and dashed into.the forest, followed however | , only by the lugger’s skipper. A loud laugh, and then bitter curses, poured upon the luckless head of the devil-finder, fol- lowed, and the captain came out of the woods leading the horse that had been ridden by the Chevatier. “It is the buccaneer’s steed, you egregious | fool! Had I known before he was here I would have followed in hot haste, and perhaps over- taken the rover; but now we have no tithe to linger, for his vessel is evidently lying in some Jagoon not far away, so come! to your boat, men, and we'll send the lugger flying out of | danger!” It was evident that the lugger’s crew were anxious to redeem themselves in the eyes of the man who held the purse-strings, and giving their dead comrade and the Corevalier’s horse in the keeping of the tavern-keeper, they has- tened to the water’s edge, where a yawl was drawn up upon the sands. Shoving it quickly into the water and spring- ing in, Captain Hernandez himself taking the tiller, they pulled with strong stroke out upon the lake, and then headed parallel with the shore until a darkly-wooded point of land ap- peared ahead, “There lies the lugger, sefior captain,” an- nounced the skipper, pointing to where the masts and hull of a vessel were dimly visible, and heading for it, the boat soon ran alongside. “Now, up with your anchor, and spread sail, Tolosa!” ordered Don Manuel. ‘Whither, sefior?” was the quiet question of the West Indian skipper. ‘Out into the lake, and then along the coast until we discover some secluded lagoon to hide in, until the corsair puts to sea, for he dare not remain long in this quarter,” : ‘*Si, sefior,” and the anchor was soon up, the sails set, and before a six-knot breeze the swift lugger was gliding along over the dark waters, and Manuel Hernandez breathed more freely, for hope of escape was before him, while capture | meant the loss of the Sefiorita Stella Enderos aud the aa which he had so vilely taken session of. But, just as the dark shores were growing dim in the distance, he gave a sudden start, strained his eyes, and then burst forth in bitter maledictions, for, relieved against the black background of the Magnolia forest, there sprung into view the white, spectral form of a large vessel—a schooner under full sail. | “Serior, it is El Maldito!”’ said Tolosa, in a husky whisper. | ‘*Curse you! I have eyes; and curse him! he has, too,” was the savage retort, and turning to the skipper, bé continued fiercely: ‘* Cover this creeping craft with every inch of canvas she can spread.” “Si, sefior; but El Maldito sails like a whirl- wind,” was the ominous reply, and again bitter curses broke from. the lips of Captain Manuel Hernandez, for despair and the fear of death crimes of his lifetime tramped like grim spec- ters before his vision. And, under all the canvas that would draw, her lateen sails bellying out as hard‘as boards, and her skipper keeping her on her course as | true as an arrow’s flight, the swift, tnough homely lugger flew over the waters, leaving a | foamimg wake far behind her, and getting eight knots out of a six-knot breeze. | With an anxious face Captain Manuel Her- nandez watched her rapid flight for a few mo- ments, and then turned his gaze upon the phan- tom-like vessel dashing on in. pursuit, for it was now evident that she was in chase, ‘Holy Virgin! she gains upon us,” he cried, in 2 pitiful tone, : |. “Ttis BE) Maldito, efor,” was the laconic re- | pate of Tolosa, his hand as firm as a rock upon tiller. ! “In the devil’s name, what matters that, To- angrily asked the Spaniard. Te at. hes pres ty : ' ; y4 > a yf ta en 2p aut “Sis OS ae eee ae eras —E V7 ‘* A curse flies faster than a blessing, sefior.” ‘“‘Ah! meaning this craft for the blessing Well, my swarthy skipper, your ju’gment is a little off. I wish you were right, that we might be blest by escaping, but it looks dowbtful to me,” ‘* And to me, too, sefior capitan, for she gains rapidly, and ere long we either iron pitched into us, if we don’t heave to.” ‘* What! do you think I would surrender to yonder man? Not if he blows your lugger, and all on board, to the devil, would I come to at his order; but, be dare not fire in these waters, as it would bring the American cruisers upon him.” ‘*The Virgin grant us protection, setior; but, El Maldito is coming after us like a tornado,” The words of Tolosa were true; the schooner was rushing on in chase like the wind, and ere long the end must come, be it what it might. CHAPTER XXX. AN OATH AND A PLEDGE. As the West Indian lugger drove on before a breeze that was constantly increasing in strength, Captain Manuel Hernandez paced the small deck with a nervous step, for each glance astern showed him that the pursuing schooner was steadily gaining, for only a mile divided the two vessels now. Muttering bitter imprecations, he descended into the small, yet not uncomfortable cabin, and there paused as he beheld upon a sofa, that stood beneath the transom, the form ofa woman, Her face was buried in her hands, and her whole by Te was that of dejection; but hear- ing his footstep she raised her bead, and the beautiful, though pale countenance of the Sefior- ita Stella Enderos was revealed. ‘Ah, my sweet cousin, you wear a dejected look for one who hopes for succor soon,” said Don Manuel, with a sneer. “Tt is the dread that. a crtiel Fate may yet keep me in your power that disheartens me, for, when I glanced out of the fort a moment ago, it seemed that the schooner did not gain om us.” she answered, in a disconsolate tone. After a pause of a moment the Spaniard said, “Stella, if 1 have seemed to treat you harshly, it is because of my love for you, and—” ‘Silence, sir! does your manhood permit you to use such argument to defend your cruelty?” she cried, with flashing eyes. ‘* You have been cruel to me, Stella, for you have known well that I loved you ever sinre you were a little girl, when I taught you to ride, and to sail a boat, and—” “Do not recall a past when I believed you honorable, Don Manuel; you showed your true character too soon, and won my dislike, and now that I know you as you really are I hate you, for you have robbed my poor father of his child and his fortune.” ** All that I took from him I have on board this lugger—yourself, the gold, and the jewels, and I tell you again, as I told you often before, if you will consent to be my wife, I will return you to your father, and with you his treasure.” ‘* Never, sir! you are far worse than the pirate chief, for from you I should look for proteetion; but he gave me my freedom, and the treasure of my father, which you had plotted to rob him of, and when he placed me on board this vessel he believed that I was to go at once to my home; but you, Manuel Hernandez, lel astray, with your promises of gold, the poor men on this craft, and you have held me _ prisoner, hoping to make me consent to become your wife, and go to my father with the falsehood upon my lips that you protected me, and saved my honor and the treasure; but I swear to you senor, 1 will never’ consent so to debase myse in my own eyes, be the consequences what they may.” ken in a low but distinct and firm She had tone, and Manuel Hernandez knew well that he couid not break her will, and with her refusal ringing in his ears, and the schooner steadily gaining upon the lugger, he was in despair; but he determined to try once more, and said: “ Cousin Stella, do you know what crait it is in pursuit?” ““T do; you believe, at least, that it is the schooner known as El Maldito, and whose chief set roe free when, through your plot, I fell inte clutched with icy fingers at his heart, and the | bis hands.” ** Yes, it is El] Maldito, and the Chevalier Cor- sair in command, and if he takes us, / will be put to death ” “Your own actions only will be the cause, cousin Manuet.” “Granted, Stella; but would you see me die?” “TJ would not care to.” “Remember the past happy days we spent together at the hacienda, when you cared for me, and called me your lover-cousin—” “Those davs sre if the past, Manuel, and if they lost their joy af years went on, itwas your hand that caused them to vanish.” * ™ om + i s<e a * ys , i é Nhs “JT will admit that, cousin Stella; but remem- Be bering what we have been to each other, will you see me die at the save me?” aie ‘Why should the Chevalier Corsair put you to death, when a short while since he gave y: your freedom willingly?” AROS Op sea ‘* Because we have met since, in New fo yard-arm, when yeu can rT é
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‘ ari! A" bi ; a8 schooner, looking like a huge, flying was but a short distance away, an down upon them like a whirlwind. th But be urged the frightened and suffering “sci ——— $$ —— The Chevalier Corsai and itis war to the knife between us now, and | Poor fellow, you have saved me and your if an accident should happen to the lugger, and we fall into his power, | know that I would have to die, unless you saved me.” ** And how can I save you, Manuel?’ “By bees a falsehood, cousin mine; by say- ing that J did not, inst your will, bear you away in the lugger, but took you to New Or- where you became my wife—” “No! no! no! I cannot do that,” “Then I must die.” There was something in his tone so sad and reproachful, that it went to her tender heart, and she said quickly: ‘No, I will plead with him for you.” ** Your pleading will do not an atom of good, for he will feel that he has been injured by my act im oarrying you off against your will, after he has set you free, and he wiil put me to death, while, if I let him know that it was because of the hatred your father bore me, that you went with me and became my wife, and beg him then to spare your husband and your treasure, {he wiil do it, for I know the man.” “‘And if f{ tell this base falsehood, Manuel, what is to be my fate when he lets us go free?’ “IT will carry you by night to your home, and your treasure too, only I will beg that you let it be known that I was captured by the. buc- caneers in trying to save you, and then, cousin mine, I pledge you never to cross your path again, and to lead a different life,” “Is this pledge given, Manuel, only in the face of death?” “Wo! no! for what care I for death? <A sol- dier, it may come to me at any time, and with- out you, I care little to live; I give you the pledge in good faith, and—” ‘* The schooner is gaining, sefior, and the lug- is driven her best,” said Tolosa, calling out own the companionway. ** You hear, cousin Stella?” said Don Manuel, sadly. Rising and approaching him, the beautiful girl laid her hand upon his arm, and her voice trembled as she spoke: “Cousin Manuel, if word, even a falsehood or act of mine could save Mie from a cruel and ignominious death, I would see your phantom orm ever before my eyes, if I refused it, and I grant your request—” ‘* Bless you, Stella.” “d Hear me! I grant it, but upon one condi- on. “Name it.” That you call Tolosa into the cabin, and in his presence, swear that you will return me at onoe, and in safety to my home, ay, and my father’s treasure with me; will you do this?” * Yes, willingly, cousin mine, and from this moment I will lead a changed life.” “God grant that you may; now call the lug- ger’s captain.” Don Manuel hastened to obey, and when the two came into the cabin, the maiden said: **Sefior Tolosa, my cousin is to take an oath, that if I tell the captain of the pursuing vessel that I willingly went with him to New Orleans, and there became his wife, and beg his release with mine, that he will at once have you sail for our isiand, and place me in safety, with m father’s riches, at my own home, and I will a myself to pay yourself and crew liber- ally. : fit is as you wish, sefiorita; Iam but your slave,” said Tolosa, politely. “Now, Don Manuel Hernandez, kneel.” With a scqwl the Spaniard obeyed, and draw- ing a gold crucifix from her bosom, she said: Press this to your lips, and swear by all you deem sacred on earth or in heaven that you will keep the pledge you have made me, under pen- alty of eternal damnation.” er voice aol Roe in its intensity, and in- voluntarily Don Manuel and Tolosa uncovered their heads, while the former turned a deadly hue, and the hand thet held the crucifix trem- violently, as he said in a low tone: “T swear! ‘Tt is enough; now I will keep my pledge to you; come, I will go on deck with you.” She threw her mantilla around her, drew her black lace vail over her head, and went to the deck, and gave a glance astern. é Instantly a cry broke from her lips. for the ee veers rushing CHAPTER XXXI. THE CHEVALIER’S PRIZE. sa Waen the Chevalier Corsair dashed away from the Jake-shore cabin, on the steed of Don - Manuel Hernandez, he soon placed the shelter of the woods between himself and danger, h his horse reeled under him, hard hit by ts of his foes, on, and, apparently fully understanding he was to go, guided bim free of all ob- n the darkness, until he dashed out upon nm beach, +) bse wa omy ry Sie red pedly. y and dis- | beautiful vessel, and on in pursuit of vhe lug- ” pa d bim J ad on the | ger she darted with inereased . speed, for the wind came free, and Itke a thing of lide she *. r ; ts - f MK 1, “ ays i life has been the sacrifice: but the brute must ever yield to the human.” With another caress he left the dying ani- mal, who sunk down in his tracks with a low moan, and walked rapidly along the beach un- til it wound around into a lagoon, overhung wita moss-draped trees. Placing his fingers to his lips he gave three shrill, distinct whistles, and they were answered by the flash of a light out on the waters, or ap- parent:y from the other shore. As if satisfied, he waited patiently, quietly | pacing to and fro, and seemingly little caring for the pursuit that had followed his rapid exit from the cabin. He had not long to wait before a dark object was visible upon the lagoon, and soon it touched the shore, almost at his feet, and proved to be a boat with four oarsmen. ‘* Welcome, seflor capitan; we are glad to see you back,” said the bow oarsman, politely. ‘“Thank you, Jacinto; is all right on board?” ** As trim as though you were there yourself, sir; back to the schooner, sir?” “Yes,” and at the answer the coxswain gave the order to give way, and the boat started upon its return. A row of two cables’ length and the dark shore on the other side of the lagoon loomed up; but the boat continued straight ahead until it suddenly ran alongside what was now visible as a schooner, but so moored in under the over- hanging branches of the trees, and dra with | the funereal gray moss, that it would not be | visible even in daylight to any one passing upon the water. At the gangway the Chevalier was met by a young man, with a frank, fearless face, as shown by the light from the eompanionway, | and his attire, an undress of black, trimmed with silver lace, proved him to be an officer. ‘Welcome, senor; it is with such dread that I gee you trust yourself alone, that it is a joy to have you return,” he said, in an honest way that proved his greeting was sincere. “Thank you, Alvarez; but get the schooner at once under sail, head out of the lake, and then come into my cabin,” and the Chevalier | descended into his own luxurious quarters, for | the interior of the vessel was oriental in its comforts and beauty. Throwing aside his disguise and the costume he had worn, he hastily robed himself in a uni- | form, consisting of white velvet pants, a la Mexican in style, for they were slashed up the outer seams with yellow silk set in as far as the knee, and gold lace stripes and small gold but- tons running from his waist down; his jacket was of black velvet, the sleeves of which were like the pantaloons, trimmed with lace and buttons, and upon either shoulder was a gold knot signifying his rank, while a naval cap and a sash of silver thread encircling his waist com- pleted his very elegant uniform, with the ex- peer of a handsome pair of pistols, a jewel- hilted knife and a short sword he wore in a belt, which the sash concealed. Hardly had he completed his toilet, when Al- varez Navarro, his lieutenant, and a dashing, sad-faced young Cuban entered, and said, pd ry he gazed with admiration upon his superb chief: ‘“*Sefior captain, the schooner is under way, and we are going along at about eight knots.’ “Then I will cite # oa you to the deck,” and glancing around him over his beautiful vessel the chief gave orders to the helmsman to head inshore and run parallel to it, while mite ag man was told to keep a look-out for a sai The schooner, even in the darkness, was no- ticeable as an exquisite model of symmetry, and her gaunt hull, tall, tapering and rakish masts, proved that she could cut swiftly through the waters, and be driven under can- vas enough for a vessel of twice her tonnage. Her decks were in perfect order, her s shining like gold, every small-arm in its place around the masts, and her crew of eighty silent and on the alert; in fact, no cruiser under a legitimate flag was in better sailing and fight- ing trim, cr could show better discipline, or a finer-looking set of men to handle her in action, though they were gathered from a score of na- tions, from the China seas to the Gulf of Mexico, Gliding along with an easy, silent motion, there was something ominous in the vessel, which looked like a huge nightbird of the deep looking along the dark shores for some prey to pounce upon, “Sefior, a light lifts yonder!” said Alvarez Navarro, pointing off the starboard bow. “*] see it; it is in the window of the cabaret on the shore, and from which I escaped a short while since; al! yonder is the lugger now, Al- varez,” and as the Chevalier spoke a dozen voices cried out: Sail ho!” * Ay, ay, I see it, lads; helmsman, head for onder éraft, for itis the game I seek,” and out rom the shelter of the dark sbores sped the th hy eee : , le | iquity, and placed her in the keeping of | ) | prayer shall remember | peal to you?’ ahead, And thus the chase went on, the schoone’ gradually gaining and the lugger heading in shore, as though it was the intentien of hef captain to beach her, and escape with the los of his vessel, ‘*T ean send a shot into her, sefior,” said Al varez Navarro. ‘*Not on any account, sefior, for the one hope to save may be the victim of the shot.” he reply of bis chief caused the young lieu tenant to glance more attentively through his glass at the small vessel, for he had wondered why the Chevalier was in pursuit of game that hardly seemed worth the catching, and he sai after awhile: ‘That looks to me like the lugger we sent the seflorita and the gold off in, for she has two patches in ber sail just like that craft.” “ You are right, sefior; it is the same vesse and the Sefiorita HPnderos is still on board, was the quiet response; but it surprised the pi rate lieutenant immensely. ‘*Then t ere has been treachery somewhere sefior chief.” “There has; the same one who proved traitor to his own kindred is now proving eve worse to the Seforita Enderos,” and the Cheva lier went on to tell of what had happened to him in the city, and also at the cabin on the shore, to the great surprise and indignation o Alvarez Navarro, for, like his chief, he was ill suited to a pirate’s life, and only a base wrong against him had forced him to fiy for protec tion to an outlaw deck. As the chief went on with his story, the schooner continued to gain more rapidly upo the lugger, especially as the wind grew stronger and at length ber tall clouds of canvas almost towered above the deck of the lugger. ** Alvarez, take the helm and shave the ster of the lugger, so that I can /spring ou hoart with half a dozen men; tlien shorten sail anc keep alongside until I hail you.” “Ay, ay, sefor,” and the Cuban stepped to the helm, while the Chevalier passed forward calling to about a dozen of his crew to foilo him. And upon the sharp bows of the schooner the little band took their stand, and waited, while they drew nearer and nearer the lu: ger, “Schooner, ahoy! do you intend to run down?” cried Manuel Hernardez, in angry tones, as the long, needle-like bowsprit hovered over their heads. ; ‘“*My helmsman has his orders, sir,” was the stern reply of the Chevalier, and, turning, he ealled back to Alvarez Navarro: ‘** Let ber fall off—steady! Follow me, men! With a bound the Chevalier was upon the lugger’s deck, and following him came his men as nimble as cats, and ready tor combat, should the order be given. “Well, sir, as you have the power, and we dare not resist, you do as you please, yet I would like to know why you thus board an honest craft?’ said Den Manuel, placing himse with drawn weapon before the Sefiorita Stella. “It is to protect that lady, Manuel Hernan dez, from a villain,” was the calm response, ‘*Ha! this to my teeth, sir pirate?” “ Ay, and worse: we are not now in New Or- leans, with you holding the winning hand, Cap- tain Manuel Hernandez, and 1 would advise you to lower your tone, for ~y yard-arms are conveniently near, as you perceive, and I have boarded this vessel to take from you the lady be. have so cruelly wronged, and to punish you or your treacherous act.’ ‘*How mean you that I have wronged th lady ¢” “T released her upon learning of your in man,” and he pointed to Tolosa, the lugge keeper, ‘“*And she preferred to remain under my tection and me my wife,” was the erlumd phant reply of the Spaniard. “Ha! Is this true? Sefiorita Enderos, I ap ‘Yes, sefior,” was the firm response. “Now what have you, to say, sefior pira She went with me to New Orleans and there b came my wife, intrusting berself and ber tree ure to my keeping, and I am now returning ee to the hacienda of my kinsman, Do van. “Can this be true? The Sefiorita Stella wife?” asked the Chevalier, with withe: scorn in his+tone, and which ealled up the blood into the maiden's face, which ; ness alone prevented from being seen. “You have heard the lady’s own words, si¥ corsair; need you ask more?” “I would ask her kind permission to m her a widow within the hour, and run you t as an ornament to my vessel,” was the ste answer, and it sent a cold thrill to the Spam iard’s beart, and caused the maiden to sar earnestly : . “Sefior, I alr than I can ever re permit my—my you have once done OUT y 4 z } . dogs } p Thea biy ole st ur rea |
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what men call you, not the guilty being the world would make you, but a man of noble | wf impulses, aid one whom an unkind Fate has eursed wot «ruel y.” . Fora momené tae Chevalier was silent, and 3@ the words of the maiden seemed to deeply move | him; but then he said, in his low, musical tones: l ‘Lady, I fear you have laid out for yourself in life a rugged path to pursne, and imbittered the draught your noble nature should drink, | with the dregs of sorrow; but you know best, and if you ask the life of your husband, I grant ig it, and you aretresto g>; but for your sweet sake Only do I this.” “From my heart I thank you, sefior,” and taking his hand, Stella Enderos, before he was aware, imprinted a kiss upon it. 3, He started visibly, and to hide his emotion, | | called out: : ** Ho, El Maldito!” “Ahoy the lugger!” came back in Alvarez | # Navarro’s voice, i ‘“Lay the schooner to, and we'll bring the fugger alongside.” “SAy, ay, sir,” and five minutes after the Chevalier,Corsair and his men sprung upon bis own deck, while the two vessels stood rapidly away from each other. ¢ But hardly bad they placed half a mile be- o| tweea them when a flash was seen on the lug- q| &er,a taint report heard, and then a cry for help ff, Came over the waters: | ** Et Maidito, ahoy! ahoy!” a Springing to the wheel the Chevalier changed yj the schooner’s course, and his ringing orders sent bis men to their posts, while he shouted: “There is trouble yonder, and woe be to the man who has caused it.” -| / But, as the schooner headed for suddenly a bright flash illumined the waters. | and the roar of a heavy gun echoed azainst the a dark shores, while out from the shadow swept a vessel-of-war, in hot pursuit of the corsair crait. ‘‘ Hal that is the coast-guard cruiser, Alvarez. and a good sailer, as we have had cause to | ow,” said the Chevalier, coolly. “ Yes, sir; there goes her gun again! and see! it is the cutter,” and once more above the schooner rushed a solid shot. _ “The lugger has put about, sir, and is head- Ing back toward the Lake, as though to enter Pontchartrain, evidently knowing we dare not follow, with yonder cruiser to cut us off. ‘‘ But we do dare follow, Alvarez, so spread sail after the lugger, and never mind the cut- ter,” said the insonisens with determination, and with her crew at her guns, and a deathlike silence upon her decks, E) Maldito bouuded away in pursuit of the little craft, which was evitently using every effort to escape, while, the cutter-of-war. half a leaguo awuy, was coming on under a cloud of canvas, baving evr dently recoznized her foe as the fleet-winged craft of the Chevalier Corsair, which often be: | fore had so cleverly eluded capture, but which ) now seemed rushing into a trap from which | there could be no escape, as the firing of the | guns would bring other American cruisers | the scene, the commander of any one of which would give ten years of his life to be able to capture the daring Belmont, the Buc- caneer, uv the lugger, CHAPTER XXXII. THE DOUBLE CHASD. AS the eastern skies grew gray with approach dawn, the wind increased to half a gale, causing the little lugger to lay far over as she staggered along underall of her canvas, and the cruiser also bent damsharse A to the breeze, yet rushed on in hot c , while the schooner sped al me as straight as a church steeple, aud was } gaining on the West Indian cratt rapidly. As the sea grew lighter under the breaking J day, it was observed that the vessel-of-war was not, as had been believed by both the Chevalier and his lieutenant, the cruiser ot the lakes, and | which was cm os as a sentinel, or Fe sry in ) Borgne, Pontchartrain and the eur oie Sound; but, on the mrygetet S it prov- | ed to be a brigantine of three hundred tons, graceful as a gondola, swift as a bird, and as saucy and rakish as a pirate, “We could disfigure yonder pretty craft, sefior, if we did but try,” said Alvarez Navarro, su acer ey tS we could bring yonder lugger to with Y ashot, but I never fire ay vessel ry now has a +, female on board,-or upon the cruisers of my , country,” was the Chevalier’s quiet response. zi ‘* He will not be so generous, for yonder comes | another shot, and up go his colors,” remarked the lieutenant, as the discharge of a bow gun was followed by the running up to the peak the stars and stri | _ But the schooner paid no attention to the #) command to show her flag, but continued on in Was now heading for | chase of the lugger. whic 4 oe pass between Lakes Korgne and Pontchar- nD. . for hardly’ | m the lug- | | mint and dog my wake, after having se Se, Bht 40 vo sae Ee at the cabaret B p : 5, , eat ahead was the pass between the lakes, toward which all three vessels were rushing under clouds of snowy duck. Gazing attentively at the cruiser for awhile, the Chevalier Corsair said, addressing his lieu- tenant, to whom he seemed much attached: . “Alvarez, when in the city [ heard that a new vessel, a brigantine, had been built, and es pecially armed, officered and manned to hunt me down; her name was the Iluntress, and she to a broadside, and three pivot heavy guns, for- | ward, amidships, and aft, and was reported as | a craft of marvel ous speed, and that one in pur- suit is the very one, and the captain I told you I deceived in New Orleans, is her commander.” ‘* Captain Sylvester, sefior?”’ ‘*Yes, Harold Sylvester,a man whom I know well, and he is as noble as he is brave; I would | not aim a gun at his vessel for the world; but I had supposed he had gone up the river, and not approached the city by way of Lake Borgne.” “He has a handsome vessel, sefior, and she can fly too, for she holds her own pretty well with El Maldito; and just see that lugger how she rushes along; if we were not running into a trap, as I believe we are, I could enjoy this chase im- mensely; but once through the pass, sefior, and wearecutofffroma escape.” P The Cheva'ier Corsair smiled, but made no reply for some minutes; then he said: 4 ** Set the topsails, Sefior Navarro, for I wish to gain more time,” and under her increased sail, the schooner fairly leaped ahead, and her | sharp bowsprit was soon, as the night before, | hovering over the stern of the lugger. At the wheel stood Manuel Hernandez, prov- ing himself, by the way he had handled the craft, a thorough seaman, and forward were the half-dozen men that comprised the crew; bub Sulosa was nowhere visible, nor was Stella Enderos, and a frown came upon the face of the corsair chief, for be dreaced mischief, * Fio, selior corsair, why do you change your me fre @ cuted cat Don Manuel, as he beheld the chief standing upon the bow of his vessel. ** Aivarez, go to leeward of the lugger, and stand by all, to shorten sail, for I do not wish to run by,” called out the Chevalier, and his orders being obeyed, the schooner and lugger were sailing broadside to broadside, and at the same rate of speed, Than turniog to Don Manuel, the Chevalier answered; “*t6 is my humor, sefior, to dog your wake, for believe you have been up to some deviltry ; where is the skipper?” “ta the cabin; he dropped a pistol and it ex- ploded, wounding him in the arm.” ‘* Aud the Sefiorita Enderos?” “She is looking after the wounded man,” was the curt reply, “No, sefior chief, she is here to answer for herself” and Stella Enderos appeared on the deck, her face pale, her manner nervous. At sight of the maiden, Don Hernandez looked as though he interided s ringing upon her, and hurling her back down the companion- way; but to release his helm he knew would throw the lngger against the schooner, and per- haps sink her, and he contented himself by cry- ing: ‘Back into the cabin, Stella! there is danger for you here.” *“Toere is no danger I dare not face, Sefior Hernandez,” and turning to the Chevalier, she continued: “Senor, again I claim your protection, and frankiy admit I spoke falsely to you; but it was to save this man’s life, and under a pledge that he would return me to my father; now, I tell you, that I em not his wife, nor ever shall [ be, for he is base aud heartless, and he, after you, 2 sea-rover, set ne free, dragged me away in this vessel, to foree me to marry him, and eee in my fortune.” “This isa pleasant story to hear, Don Manuel Hernandez; pray proceed, lady,” and there was a look in the Chevalier’s eyes, as he stood on the schooner’s bulwarks, looking down upon the 1 , which caused the Spaniard to tremble. ‘I have only to say, seiior chief, that after you permitted the lugger to go, Don Manuel showed his true nature, and boldly told me that I should marry him; but peor Sefior Tolosa would permit no such wrong, and was shot down, but thank the Virgin not killed, by this double-dyed traitor, who then, threats and bribes, forced the erew to aid him in flying from you, for he saw that the firing of the pistol had alarmed you.” The Chevalier cast a hurried look astern at the coming brigantine, which was slowly gain- ing. as the schooner had shortened sail; and then said, in a loud tone: “‘Sefior Navarro, come here!” “Your orders, sefior chief?’ and the lieuten- ant sprung upon the bulwarks beside his com- mander. “ crew and board this lugger, “Take six of and put back to the Lake shore, at the place in the Ingoon ‘where the schooner lay hidden: at mE NS Ree Margy np i | | | | | carried a crew of a hundrea men, four twelves | 19 he so wishes, give over the lugger and crew to his keeping, and, with your men return to the city, where you can await my coming; but under all circumstances hold Don Manue! Her- nandez as your prisoner. “Do you understand, Lieutenant Navarro?” ‘In everything, senor chief.” “Then obey at once.” The corsair lieutenant sprung back upon the schooner, and in five minutes had selected his. crew ot six picked men, armed and equipped them, and with light bounds they were upon tue lugeer’s deck, and Don Mamuel a prisoner, ani the West Indian crew in irons, ‘Seforita, you can trust Alvarez Navarro as: you would your brother; may your life be a happy one; farewell,” and the Chevalier raised. his cap, bowed, and, at a signal from him to the hebgiensh the schooner swung off. the Ing- ger went about, and the two vessels par! ed, and not a moment too soon, for the brigantine was now not a mile away, and coming on with a saucy look that meant mischief, CHAPTER XXXII RUN INTO A SNARE. WauHen Alvarez Navarro beaded the lugger back the way he had come, it was with a fore- boding of evil at his beart that his chief was running into a danger from which he could not extricate himself, for he knew that Belment, the Buceaneer, had the reputation of never fir- ing upon the American flag, though he was a bitter enemy to the Spanish, French and British ensigns, and all his acts of outlawry had been against vessels of those nations, excepting the first deed, the rescue of Conrado © o in the Sound. “There! it is as I expected: the firing has alarmed the Lake Guard, and yonder she comes,” he eried, as afar off, coming down the coast under a spread of eanvas, the American cutter was seen, baving just run out of some inlet indenting the shores of Lake Borgne. “She is heading for the schooner,” saia Stella, who stood by the wheel. ‘“Yes, and with the brizantine will get her into a place from which I can see né escape, for one will guard the Pass to Pontchartrain, inte which El Maldito must go now, and the other will run in and capture her, I fear,” “T trust not, for, corsair though he be, Sefior Belmont does not: deserve a fate so ignoble,” » said Stella, with anxiety. ‘You are right, lady; no nobler man treads the deck of any vessel, aud though he never turns a gun against the vessels of his native land, its cruisers are his most unmerciful foes: but the brigantine, 1 see, wants to bai] me, and the young Cuban put bis helm a couple of L points nearer to the coming vessel. ** And what will you say?” asked the maiden, with interest. “Oh! Tl make some good excuse, lady.” “Which he may not believe.” “True, but yonder is his game, and he will not tarry with us,” and as the brigantine swept nearer, a loud, hoarse voice halleg | ** Ho the lugger!” ‘“Ahoy the brigantine!” answered Alvarea Navarro, in his ringing tones. ‘*Who and what are you?’ came back from the brigantine. ‘A poor fisherman, sir; not big enough game for yonder y irate,” cried Alvarez in aud a haif-cheer was heard on the cruiser, while the officer who hailed said quickly: ‘* That is a bloody pirate, then?” “Yes, sefior, it is El Maldito, the craft of Belmont, the Buccaneer.” ; A wild cheer now burst from the brigantine’s crew, and the two vessels were too far apart ee further conversation, and Stella Enderos said: “You stood the ordeal well, sefior; but was sohoone* it n to tell him that it was the of the Chevalier Corsair?” ‘*Oh, no, sefiorita; but it re and car do no harm against my chief, as eutter coming yonder well knows the sig ct El. Mal dito, and, as they do not fire upon the schooner itis evident that they see the trap she is in and hope to take her, alive—that is, without searring her beautiful hull geste ‘* She is indeed a beautiful v ,” said Stella, with admiration. ‘“None more so, and for speed she has nis equal, for.she was built for & revenue cutter on the Ne w England coast, but, drawing too much water for the inland waters, was bought by the — Chevalier as a yacht, in which he intended making a cruise around the world: but, bein ruer to a friend than to himself, he commiti an act that caused him to fi made him an outlaw upon fhe seas: but, see, the schooner has entered the Pass, and the cut- ter and the brigantine are rapidly closing in after her—the Virgin grant the of fortune set not now in gloom.” giving the helm to one of his men, varro turned his whole beth ye i fe 6 silo F cn ae Ao pt ke ls RRS 8, SEE a, if . for his life, and Chevalier’s star “Amen! fervently responded Stella, and, a
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20 the schooner had rushed swiftly through the Pass, and was heading for the shore beyond, as though knowing escape was inipossible, her co tain intended beaching her and saving hinise. and crew by taking to the forest. Apparently believing this to be his design, the cutter and the brigantine, both entering the Pass together, sailed side by side, and followed in the wake of the chase. fully assured that at last the famous E] Majdito’s piratical days had ended. “Good God! he intends to beach her; [ am surprised at that, for the Chevalier has a nature that would make him risk running out between the ernisers, and taking the chances of their sinking him,” cried Alvarez Navarro, ““And I have been the cause of this?’ said Stella, sadly. ‘Oh, no; we believed that thére was trouble on the lugger, so pitt back to see, and, as free rovers, we must take the chances,” indifferently said the young officer. ‘* And if he beaches his vessel?” “Then they will haye to take to the forest oe escape, 80 he may reach the city as soon as 0. ‘But will lose his beautiful vessel?” “Oh, yes; but mct long will the Chevalier Corsair remain ashore, for he will soon have another craft, though Ei Maldito’s match will be hard to find; but, see, the schooner does not strike the beach!” ‘“There is a lagoon there, sehor,” answered ‘ne of his men. “Ab! I see now, and heis running into it; I see he ha determined to stand at bay, and fight the boats off, if they attack.” ** Many years ago, seflor, when I was a boy, my father was a smuggler on this coast, and the lagoon the chief bas run into was open, and a boat could go, by the numerous bayous, all the way to the city’s edge; but it has been choked 4 with deposits of late years, ’'ve heard, and e pretty craft has run into a trap, for even a large bateau cannot run up more than a mile now,” said the man; who had been the one to whom Alvarez Navarro had resigned the helm. ‘* Well, we’ll soon hear the music of combat, fer I do not believe the Chevalier will allow even his own countrymen to take him without a savage fight in self-defense, and may the holy ingin spare him.” “The sar preven is upon my lips, sefior,” said Stella Enderos, softly, and shortening sail u the lugger, as the wind steadily increased, lon board waited to hear the sound of con- flict, for both the cutter and the brigantine had fallowed the schooner into the bayou, and the tall trees had hidden even their lofty topmasts from sight. CHAPTER XXXIV. THE CORSAIR'S TRUMP CARD, Sie by side the two cruisers, the one a rapid sailing cutter, which had fortwo years been a terror to outlaw crafts upon the lakes and among the Chandeleur Islands, and the other the brigantine, also a vessel of marked speed, en the mouth of the lagoon or bayou, into which a quarter of an hour before the schooner had disappeare As they were but a short distance apart, each crew could see upon the decks of tho other ves- sel, and an officer of middle age, who stood, trumpet in hand on the quarter-deck of the cut- ter, hailed the brigantine and asked: “What brigantine-of-war is that?” ‘*The Huntress, ordered South on a cruise in the Gulf and Caribbean Sea for buccaneers,” answered a young lieutenant, who was evident- ly in command, though bis uniform showed the rank of a junior lieutenant. “T am glad to meet you, sir; I am Captai Dumont, and [ command this cutter, the Sleuth- hound; are you Captain Harold Sylvester, who I learned’ was to command the Huntress?” queried the officer of the cutter. ‘*No, sir, I am only the officer in charg Captain Sylvester having gone ashore to visi the city; seeing the schooner, and suspecting her of mischief, Tran out last night from my anchorage and gave chase.” “You were right, sir; that is the famous schooner HI Maldito, and her commander is Belmont the Buccaneer, who is also called the Chevalier Corsair; I have chased him half a hundred times, but he is at last caught in a snare, and I will be glad to have you join me in the ere of the noted pirate.” “With pieeeure Captain Dumont, and from all J have heard of the Chevalier Corsair we will have our hands What depth have we in this bayou?” “ Oh, we can run up to the bend yonder, and then will have toattack in our boats,” and with 7. a Niet * hep , their crews at “er an ope’ of soon capturing the great sea rover, stood on together, until they ree | to the bend referred to by Captain Du- 190 There the bayou narrowed to a creek, not tero hundred feet in width, and both cruisers came to , and then followed the orders: ** Man the boats!” Ina few minutes after tho ors were fui tour boats, crowded with armed men, i Blea! as) Ae a a ae q The Chevalier Corsair. each vessel, making a very ‘ormidable force with which to attack the schgoner, for there were over a hundred and fifty men in them, and the two that led the way each carried a Oa poane howitzer mounted in the Lows. ith steady stroke the little fleet moved up the bayou, two abreast, the cutter’s boats upon the starboard, the brigantine’s on the left, and only the length of their oars apart, the ,two commanders had an opportunity to converse to- gether as to what course the Chevalier Corsair would pursue. “*T learn that he never fires upon an Ameri- can vessel,” said Lieutenant Frayne, whom Harold Sylvester had left.in command of the Huntress when he went to the city to see the Carnival, carrying. Walter Nevil along with him, and approaching in his boat by a small bayou that led into tha city’s linaits. ‘He does not take American yessels as his game, and I have only known him to fire once upon me, though I have often had him ina hot p ce, and have thrown tons of iron away upon im,” answered Captain Dumont. ** He did fire upon you once, then?” Yes; but it was when Ijhad him in. as close a place as he is in now, almost, for I had him on a leo-shore, aml he had (o. run the gantlet of a frigate’s fire to escapo; but, just as we were certain he would have to fight, surrender or blow up his;schooner, he suddenly lay to, and I saw. the chief himself swing his long pivot twenty-four around and sight it, and I can tell you, sir, it was.a dead shot, for it cut my fore- mast off ten feet above the deck, caused me to broach-to, and away he went again like a racer, darting in between the Chandeleurs, where I thought a keel dare not go, and thus avoiding the frigate’s fire, and running out into the Gulf as coolly as though he was on a plea- sure cruise.” “But you do not think he will fight now, Captain Dumont?” “Tf he don’t he’s a fool, for he’ll hang as sure ashe surrenders; but he may set. his schooner on fire, and take to the woods with his crew, and in that case he can escape, though he loses lis. craft, and she’s the fastest that ever spread sail in these waters—there, now we can. see for half a mile ahead of us,” ‘“* And the schooner is nowhere visible.” ‘No, but she must be soon, for. the overflow of the swampsome years ago choked up this bayou, and fishermen say that a pirogue even cannot pass,” and Captain Dumont raised his glass to his eyes and peered searchingly ahead. The bayou, as they went on, continued to nar- row still more, and its low banks were bordered by swamp cypress trees, loaded down by fes- toons of gray moss, through which it was im- possible to see ‘half a dozen yards, and it was evident that seme men in the boats expected an ambush, for many an anxious look was turned upon the shores, as if anticipating a line of fire burst forth, and feel the deadly bullets crashing into their midst. At last the second bend of the bayou was reached and turned, and again the view was unobstructed for half a mile; brat still no schooner appeared in sight, and Lieutenant Frayne glanced over to Captain Dumont in- \quiringly. : ' “Strange; I have not been up this lagoon for many years, but it seems to me that we should have reached the barrier the overflow made across it,” said that officer. And on the boats pulled steadily until another bend showed another bayou branching off to the right, while the one they followed led inland further. ‘* What does this mean? I do not recall this second lagoon,” said the surprised captain of the cutter, and the little fleet of eight boats came to a stand-still, the men resting upon their oars. ‘*Whatis to be done, sir?” asked Lieutenant Mis 3 not knowing what to suggest. “T do not remember this bayou, sir, but my memory may be treacherous, as it was so long ago since I was here; but let us divide forces, you going to the Jeft, I to the right, and @ shot from our howitzer will be a signal for us to come to the other’s aid, if we discover the schoonor,” said the captain. . ‘Ay, ay, sir; give way, men!” and the brig- antine’s boats kept away to the left, while the cutter’s held on to the right, and soon they were lost to sight of each other. For a mile Lieutenant Frayne held on, and then came to a stand-still, for fallen trees barred his further r pammace, and it was evident the schooner had not gone that way. ‘Put about, all! We'll join the cutter’s boats, and pull with a will!” said the disappointed officer; but, as he spone there echoed through the gloomy forest the deep boom of a heavy n, causing many a sleepy alligator to plun .? po banks a me Wore and water-birds to flv shrieking throug e woods, “Pull hard, all! that’s the signal, and Cap- tain Dumont has found the corsair,” shouted the lieutenant, and, as another deep m was then another, the orews of the boats ere a wild cheer and sent them flying through le water Reaching the spot where the bayoa flowed A en, into the one, and where had with the cones men, the Riooiten y into the that led away to tha right; but sud- denly coming toward them was an eight-oared barge, with no crew but its oarsmen, and a mid- shipman in the stern. efore he came in hailing distance he waved his hands for them to stop, and coming nearer, shouted : “Back! back to the brigantine and get under way, for the bayou is no longer cheked uy, and the corsair has gained open water.¥® ** And Captain Dumont?” called out Lienten- ant Frayne. “Ts pulling-with all baste along the shore back to the mouth of the inlet; he lightened my boat of its crew and sent me back to tell you, besides firing the howitzer,” “Back water; about all! pull for your lives, men,” shouted Lieutenant Frayne, and the cut- ter’s. boat dashing up, all five rowed back down. the bayou, the oarsmen bending to their oars bf a will that caused the blades to bend like a. w. “« And the pirate has escaped?” asked Lieuten- ant Frayne, in a disappointed tone, as the mid- sbipman’s barge rowed abreast of him. “Tt looks so, sir; we got out of the inlet to see him standing leisurely wee under easy sail, and about a mile distant, and, in firing the signals to you, we sent a shot after bim; but he took no notice of it whatever.” “Then he towed through the bayous, with his boats out ahead?’ ‘Yes, sir; he knew, what we did not, that. the bayou was no longer choked up, and in run- ning in here was laying a trnmp card against: us, and which we no idea he held,” replied the young middy, who doubtless. pa his leisure aboard ship in the steerage over a game of cards. “It. is too bad indeed ; but with two sueh fleet vessels as the cutter and peigentine in his wake, pay yf yet be taken; pull, lads, pull with a will!’ ‘*T doubt it, sir, though I hope so, as I have a special curiosity to see the Chevalier Corsair; but, fast as Anca brigantine is, sir, I noticed the schooner held her own this morning, and had not all her canvas set.” “True; but there are the vessels,” and raising his voice until it rung like a trumpet, Lieuten- ant Frayne shouted: ‘*Ho! the Huntress! Ho! the cutter! up oa your anchors! set all sail! lively, lads, ively! Aware that.something of astartling nature had occurred, the officers leftin charge ef the two vessels with alacrity, and the cut- ter and the brigantine swung clear by the time the boats were alongside, To hoist them to their davite, and get under way, with all canvas set, was short work, and out of the inlet dashed the fleet sea-warriors hot on the track of the daring corsair. When clear of the shores they met the boats of the cutter, and Captain Dumont was livid with rage as he boarded his vessel, and in spite of the gale that was blowing, ordered more sail set, for just a league away, dashing toward the pass between the lakes, was the saucy te schooner, with nothing to bar her flight to the open waters of the Oulf, And away across the low point of land, cree ing toward her hiding-place, could be seen the tops of the lugger’s lateen sails, while upon her decks, Alvarez Navarro and his men were re- joicing over the escape of their daring chief, for hey could see that E] Maldito was showing a clean pair of heels to her disappointed pursuers. CHAPTER XXXYV. A CORSAIR’S MUSINGS. ‘* WHERE will you head, sefior chief?” The aker was the officer next in rank aboard E] Maldito, to Alvarez Navarro, and al- most a giant in form, but with a face that was full of courage, and not deyoid of kindness. ‘To the Balize, Mr. Morgan, and I trust, we be not too late,” was the reply of the Chevalier Corsair, as he turned his gaze astern upon the cutter and brigantine a league and a away, but pressing on ihe ed in pursuit. “Ts ita treasure-ship from Spain, or Portu- I! ape a pant 4 pidge vit ents wish to ead off, sir?” a organ, the t. yet in a polite toné, that showed interest instead of inquisitiveness. ‘No, it is a West Indian caravel: once the pores yacht of Don Ivan Enderos, whose acienda we raided some time since; she sailed from New Orleans early last evening, and was boldly cut out by my &: friend, but now my bitterest foe, Conrado Costello, who. has deter- mined to raise the black flag, and be guilty of a crime which I have sworn he shall not accom- plish; don’t spare canvas, Mr. Mo: must head the caravel off at the mayne else we may have to follow her to Boston harbor, and a stern chase will bea lente one with her. for we sailed out of St. Jago with her once and E! Maldito nearly found her match.” ““¥ remember ber now, sefior; but Hl Maldite had on her honest sails then as a coaster; but with her dishonest canvas set, as she has now, there’s no keel been laid ever driven througis for we
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be ey ee ee SR 2 —s >: ee? Toa SK Be, <x, Ae en + 2 OOF ET Bre ae ee PR ae a BEN iis phenitlaae, 3. the water as she has; but I feared for her to- yes as I did not know how <= were to get out of the bayou, ha heard it was choked up.” * And so it was; buta freshet, such as choked it up years broke the barrier a year or so and I was aware of that, and o to anda our pursuers as we did; as the Seflor Na- varro is away, we will have to do double duty, M ; so call me if 1 am needed,” and, with another glance at his pursuers, and then at the Chandeleur Islands, through which the schooner was passing, the Chevalier Corsair descended to his cabin and threw himself into an easy- chair. And over his face crept a look of inexpressible sadness, while he said, as was his wont when half alond: ** How long must this life continue, I wonder? ‘*In the mad excitement of the chase and rate danger, lam content, for it chimes in with my humor; but now, when I am alone with the grim specters that rise from the past to haunt me, then it is memory will not vanish at my bidding, and I see my once happy home in far-away Boston, my dear old father, whom I still love, in spite of the bitter curse he drove me from his door with, and my darling sister, who threw aside the love of noble Harold Syl- vester, for that of Conrado Costello, who would now d her down to ruin as his wife. ‘*But, he shall not, for I have sworn to track him to the ends of the earth, ere he shall ere one sorrow upon her innocent life, for knows, I have brought disgrace and wretched- ness upon all of my name, , ‘*And poor, poor Marion! is it, I wonder, that because my hand placed a grave between us, that her image no longer holds its impress upon wy heart as in the olden time? * And yet it does not, for before me each mo- ment rises the sweet face of that beautiful girl whom I found a prisoner in the ruined convent and whither Conrado Costello’s baseness h caused her to be taken. ‘“Manine Valverde! a sweet name, indeed, and one I love to speak; bub what have I to do with her? J, an outlaw, branded with the name of pirate, have no right even to turn my eyes upon her; yet, for her sweet sake, nevertheless, 1 would ba willing to forever sink the guilty and, as another being, wholly devote m fe to her; but could she love one whose h stretched out to her in pleading, was stained with blood? ‘Ah, me, I fear not; I fear the love of the pure is forever shut out of my life.” Rising impatiently, with hands clasped be- bind him, he to and fro in the cabin, his brow con with a scowl, his lips sternly wri — again throwing himself into his chair, said: ‘By Heaven! I will do it; I will hunt down’ Conrado Costello, and bring Manuel He to the yard-arm, and then cast off forever the oke of guilt { wear, and strive to win a name ders e among men, for they will not then know me as Belmont, the Buccaneer, and the Chevalier Corsair.” And again he sprung to his feet, and then, while a derisive laugh broke from his lips, said, apeehy “Bah! what have J to do with honor? What hope have I for the future? What but regret in the past? “Tam what I am, and with the brand of pi- racy upon my brow, I dare not raise my head among honorable people; no, no; alife of mad excitement must be mine, and a death upon an outlaw deck will be my fate,” and, as though unwilling to trust himself longer alone, be as- cended to the deck once more. Yet, as soon as he faced his crew every trace of the bitterness in his — vanished ge, his features like ic, and once again he was the defian hananhy Belmont, the Buccaneer. ” CHAPTER XXXVI. THE CARAVEL SIGHTED. Wren the Peng ote har ce gape its esca from the cutter and brigantine, sighted the Pass & Loutre, at the Delta of the Missisai pi there was no doubt but that the cruisers fod given up the chase, having lost the buccaneer craf 4) in the darkness, for they were nowhere visible. Nor was the caravel to be seen, unless a tin object far off on the horizon, and no larger that a sea-gull’s wing was her. Inshore, lying off the Hast Pass, a sail was visible; but it was at once discovered to be a pilot craft, waiting for some incoming mer- ohantman going up to the city. As the Gulf rovers never interfered with the pilots, and in fact had some of them in their pay as spies, there was no need of the little eraft taking flight at sight of the schooner, although her ra appearance at once gave an idea of her lawless career, and the corsair havi aled for the skipper to stand out and meet him, he pramptly obeyed, and soon board- buccaneer, ed the : “T am in search of % West Indian caravel that is due coming out about this time,” said the Chevalier, as the weather-beaten pilot ap- The Chevaliér Corsair. “She has gone out, sefior; a three-master lateen sails, armed and manned, and as swift as the wind.” cae Sam craft; and she has gone to sea “There, do you see yonder speck upon the horizon?” ac Yes. ” “That is the craft you seek; she hailed a coaster, bound up, put three on board, and then ran off as t she had been in some mischief, and I guess she has, as I see this cruiser in pursuit, and which I took for a pirate at first.” “And you have changed your mind?” asked the Chevalier, with a smile. ‘*T guess I’ve overhauled you now, captain, for honest cruisers don’t pay so liberally for nothing, and from all I’ve heard, I’m of opinion ou is the dashing fellow they calls the Cheva- er Corsair.” “Tt matters not who I am, my man, yonder caravel is my game.” ““You’re a gentleman, sir, pirate or priest though you may be, and I'thank you for your gold, which is good metal, even if it bears lood-stains; but good-by to you, sir, and a you catch the caravel is all the harm I wis Mechs and the old pilot went over the cide into is boat, while the schooner darted away in the wake of the distant sail with a speed that brought a shout of admiration from tho crew and skipper of the little eee sloop. , ‘‘Mr, Morgan, let the beauty show wht she can do now, for yonder craft must be:un down, and she has a long start,” and ontering his cabin the Chevalier threw himself upon a vel- vet divan, and was soon sleeping as peacefully as a child. After several hours he was awakened by the pitching of the schooner, and going on deck he | discovered thatthe wind was blowing a gale from the south, and that the vessel was driving along under more canvas than it was prudent to carry. ‘“‘ Her masts are bowed, sefior chief; but I did not reduce sail much, as the caravel seemed to be holding her own pretty well, considering the craft that is in her wake,” said Lieutenant Mor- gan, as his chief jomed him. ‘* You are right; we have only raised half her sails above the horizon; but I can see by those that it is the caravel; but take in the topsails, Morgan, for her ¢anvas gers her, and she can pak u Pa so Se the chase,” as was going to be an ugly night, sefior,” and the junior officer cast a look around at the gathering clouds. **'Yes, it will come on to blow hard, doubt- less; but if it is a tornado we must not lose the caravel; she is h south-east by east now, and, just as I thought intends rounding Florida and a Se the coass; but,” and spoke rather e himself Meo Nace Officer, ‘‘ there’s many a long, weary m ween you, Conrado Costello, and the one you seek, and an aveng- ing brother is in your wake,” and he turned aze over the rough waters, which were now ed into foam by the wind, while the clouds shut out the light of the sun, and there was every indication that a to ° Sgr Semaprine nbd Noanaiee ‘sisted ban tees n ng a unding under her amant of canvas the stanch schooner oid an unswervingly in the wake of the vessel which the Che r Corsair had sworn to follow to the bitter end; but the winds and waves, which the daring corsair had defied so long, seemed to have conspired him, for the hurricaen broke with f force, the darkness shut down upon the sea, and to save his vessel the chief had to run before the gale, which was driving in the very direction from whence he had come—back to the shores washed by the waters of Lake Borgne and C CHAPTER XXXVILI. THE OUBAN CORSAIR’S STORY. Wuuw Alvarez Navarro discovered, from the deck of the lu , that the schooner had in some way cleverly eluded the two cruisers, and came spa out of the Pass apparently un- hurt, he could not restrain the burst of joy that arose to his lips, and in which his crew of six men heartily joined. Alarmed by the wild of the buccaneers Stella Enderos came y on deck, followed by her quadroon maid, Ninetta, who, since her mistress had been in pra ited of Don Manuel Hernandez, had remai eg the cabin < the lugger, weeping and walling her ** Pardon, oy for pune | you; bub see, yonder, Hl Maldito has eseaped, the chief has laughed his og to seorn.” A ery of joy camo to 8: s the young officer pointed to the fly and she turned te the quadroon: “ Ninetta, dry your eyes now, for you have been bemoaning the fate of the handsome Chevalier Corsair ever since I told you that we had nothing more to fear; see; he has ee ca » ‘He deserves it, lady mistress, for he is & good man, and I prayed hard for him,” a: swered the 4 “How is the | master, lady?” asked Alvarez Navarro of the maiden, who had de- votedly attended him since he had been sha. 7 be all right before ; isit there that you in- tend to land, senor?” and the maiden pointed ve a distant wooded et; but, I promise you, if your father & sll under his protection be- ou, a man of refinement and educa tion, can be what you are, a pirate?” Ninetta had returned to the cabin, the bue- caneer crew had gone forward once more, and were watching the flying schooner, and her two pursuers far astern, and with the impulsiveness of her nature the maiden had approached and laid her hand upon the arm of the young pirate mors, oe he stood by the helm, which he firmly grasped. At her question he started and his dark face paled; but he turned his fine eyes full upon her and said slowly, and in the low tones that seem- ed habitual to him: * Would you know why, Sefiorita Enderos, [ am an outlaw instead of an honorable man, will teil you, for you have asked the question in kindness, I feel.” “Indeed I have, and your nature proves te me there are pallating circumstances that you are what you are.” “You shall be the judge, lady, and, remem- ber, that for the acts of ny past life 1 offer no excuse, for, if I have sinned so I must suffer; if Ihave raised my hand against my fellow-men, so must their hands be raised against me.” He paused, and the maiden said, softly : **T will listen to all you have to say, and if word of mine can give encouragement or com- fort, it shall not be withheld.” “T feei it, and Ithank you,” he said, and his voice trembled slightly; but, contro the ou doubtless know, a Cuban, and emotion he felt, he continued: ‘Tam, as there is no r family in the island than mine, I think I can say without vanity; but then the very high position my father occupied among the people made him a marked man, and because he would not brook an insult from one of the Spanish rulers, and, in a duel killed him, he was arrested and thrown into Moro yr his wealth, in a great measure, confiscated, for long years he was kept in a loathsome dun- geon as a felon. “ At last public —s forced the Governor- General to pardon him, and he returned to his half-ruined home, just as an insurrection was on foot to wrest the Gem of the Antilles from pain. ‘*What he might have done I do not know, though I think he would have joined the insur- gents; re he — to apc even, he was arrested as a rebel against the crown, tri found ty by false and within fires days. Sat, garotd “ His death, in such a violent way, killed my poor mother, and my aunt, my mother’s only sister, and myself were all who dared follow her againat the erally of Revarro, is keateaah agai e family of Navarro, eh OSy, do you start, sefiorita?" wnat am bey ing ents ot deeply inter- ,” was the quiet rep ou: was evi- dent that something the Cuban thea said had moved her. to the grave of a dead rmadrs If, then a mere boy, y y t. “Some days after, broken in fortune, my young and beau aunt acc a
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Ae f = The Chevalier Corsair. ; _. “Da you. see this scar, sefiorita? I’ is plain gives the mopvey called on me to-day and asked enous, and yor can easi x see the word—trat- | me to arrange the little matter for him, and, tor?” and he held out his léft hand, in the palm | knowing you were in hard luck, and had a little of which had been burned the letters, clear and | account on my books, I sent for you, thinking distinct. you might wish to turn an honest penny.” “From the hand it was to be placed on my “Very well, give me two hundred and forehead; but maddened with rage, revenge | onzas now, and the balance when the work ig and agony, I seized the iron, struck down my | done, and we’ll call it square.” torturer, cleaved my way through the guard, ) “* And when will it be done?” and, strange to say, escaped by springing upon ‘To-morrow! to-night! now /” | an officer’s horse. “Very well, now is the best time, for I will “Pattizg to sea in an open boat I was picked | let, you into his room, and show you a means of | a days. after, more dead. than alive, the | escape; he is ont at present, but you can conceal | evalier Corsair; in whom I recognized my yourself and await bis coming home, and then,” . eld colleze friend, to whom I told my wrongs. | and Monsieur Jacot made a very suggestive “Now, Sotiorita Enderos, you know why I | motion, by drawing his finger across his fat | am what I am. for I have no land to claim as | throat, my own, no flag to protect me; only my own “Yes, and then; now give me the gold and ) right arm, to carve out upon the broad | show me the room.” nie seas my destiny.” **'You have a knife?’ The bright tears stood in the eyes of Stella “Tam no fool, Jacot; lead the way.” Enderos, as Alvarez Navarro ceased peat | . Pierre Jacot called out to the girl to keep ber and grasping his scarred hand she said, warm- | eyes open for customers, and led the way to the | $ tap-room, : “You have indeed suffered, and my heart's Bat hardly had they disappeared when the | sympathy is yours; bat answer me, you are the | stranger in the aleove, and whom the cabaret- son of the Ca ban known as Navarro, the In- | keeper had wholly forgotten, came ontinto the tap-room, paid his score to the waitress, who | “Tam, lady.” was still half asleep, and went out into tho | “And the name of the aunt you spoke of | street, a quiet smile wpon his face, ) A And, as he passed out others came in, and **Jofina Jnarez, sefiorita.” then a streath of humanity set toward the | **Sefior, let me tell you that the same blood | cabaret, and upon his return down -stairs, | flows in your veins as in mine, for the aunt you | Pierre Jacot found his patrons busy, playing | speak of was my mother.” dominoes and drinking claret, noyeau and ab- | Po depict the astonishment of the young Cu- | sinthe by the bottleful, as was their nightly | ban would be impossible; but when he heard } custom. how Jofina Juarez, bis yo and lovely aunt, And, out on the pave stood the form of the had been shipwrecked, and her life saved by a | man who had left the alcove, and though as being whom ali shunned, but whom she silent as a statue, his eyes scanned every one ken kindly to, and soon after had become | closely who entered the cabaret, and a look of wife, he knew then that Stella Enderos was | disappointment, as shown by the swinging lamp indeed his cousin, and the bond of friendship | across the street, came over his face, as scores already welded firmly between the two became | passed in and the one he sought came not. as strong as steel, and death alone could sever —_—— the links. CHAPTER XXXIX. THE WARNING. Cae ETT | geet te he n res started, threw PrekrE Jacot was in his tap-room, reading | the folds of the heavy cloak he wore, and looked the daily paper with one eye, and with the other | the one who addressed him straight in the face attentively watching a sleepy waitress burnish- | \ hile he said tersely: : "Yh Seve fant betes eieteapah ad fi sie Mb (Well, sir, speak!” was j ore mi and it was Mon- “ 5 ane? sieur Jacot’s time to pesieys | an hour’s rest, and sone are Sion Ivan rg re A de- the comfort of his paper, while he sipped a glass F : : : rar of elaret, for business was always slack with eit Don bona Baden bedoeet ss | y= at aoa ala ers Sens Se Sere: Ret aan m0 me the c e cathedral to ‘tN 3 ~ the time of the night, until two, it was gener- Bd a mag gc tntlin econ oral ri 7 for I ally a busy day in the cabaret, for the fre- <“ AX Nexid:have wo.met betore?” quenters of the wine-room were none of them “Never, to my knowledge.” _ early risers, F “Had we done so, you could never forget m’ Pts. all a Ces noe gern and the | deformity; so I take it we have never met natil PY. ters were at the room. con- tonight; how can I serve you, sir?’ tained; but in an aicove, curtained off, sat an- “ : cther person, wees, existence seomed to have vac - a other way, sefior; I have come to ween forgotten by the cabaret-keeper. “ : + iti ae Dieses ttca Aneee and i chibwd Bena ss please; it is a matter of indifference sega aes Os Ea Ad th a face eoncealed y a heavy beard. 3 : ah “You sent for me, Monsieur Jacot,” said the ew "babe ear aa apni Tiieemd 40 6 stranger, quietly, seating himself near the land- “Oh, Iam used to plots of that kind; but of ‘ee %y course I am willing to repay you for—” “Y pag peng Sh if ‘Don Ivan Enderos, I pardon you for the in- “Ahl then I did send for you, but how sult because you know not who I am; but I teil , you I sawa man: paid two hundred and fifty should I know you with all that hair on your | oy5as not haif am heur ago, to take your life, face! TI have a job for you, Monsicur Pierre.” | With the ‘20-0f Ali : NGG Sh nae?) ave cant promise of a like amount when he did ‘ ee it pa ye Maa ay pes Hay nd five | His —— sed Wes shan is now near you, and died ey ready for thedeed. "Ant it is then the letting of blood, Monsigur er diag tl ilies Deed, fone maaneet Jacot?”’ “Again you insult me, sefior; but I forbear “But not to me, as I can prove; but first let for the same reason as I seid before;,come, lead the way to your room, I will await an instant and follow you,.so as not to attract the atten- tion of the cabaret-keeper; do not enter. your chamber untii I join you, and then see if I have not told you the truth.” nh 4 “Senor, yeur, words impress me. with their truth; pardon my suspicion, and 1 wiil do as you wish,” and Don Ivan entered the cabaret dashed off a glass of wine at the bar, and passed on into the hallway. A moment after. the stranger entered, and taking a seat near the corridor door, watched, | * Thold the gold, Monsieur Pierre Louis, and the victim is one of my boarders, and one whom Ido not think you ever mot, bus whom once to meet is to remember always.” “Ab! his name?” ‘* He is a Spaniard, and answers to the name of Don Ivan Enderos—” és Eh 4 ee wealthy Puen Aig rican gen- eman 0: hame, Wao Gweulls-— . nee and we neh k, ‘No, no, Pierre; his name is Don Henrico Ra yee Pan Auten one room, and org eg ond) he # . gg sms men, abe on LT will.ba near you »? : this one is a Hunchback, and as eous as the ete 8, < mask of Satan, while he is a very deyil when | Ae ean eri 8 FF pe a eheyed; aNih:6.:10- roused, 1 warn you beforehand, so you may be | “ “Come in, sefior.” abs aM ; The stranger obeyed, and saw only Don Ivan; Baht I care little for devils, monsieur, for | pu he held in his eeu a bee’ while he said never met my match in strength but once; but | with » smile: , You want a A Hunchback killed, you say?” ‘* Your agsassin’s heart failed him, and he has Oh, me onsieur Louis, J do not. want him | jet me this note, which 1 wil read aloud.” killed;, but another person desires him out of | “ 1¢ wasin a large, bold hand, in Spanish, and © way, and where could a. better. place be | simply headed with tho hour at which it was found than the gravel especially as by his death | yritten, and. was as follows: . Fe ear nt=r | gna 2p 9 » he pang “Sutor:-—-To-night. th wo hundred an _ " Youare wrong again, my dear friend; Ido | gpiy.ongas were f icinn tetexe soar : not give it; only am the banker for it, to hand _ it © you when your work is done;.the one who g & = a ro) ot ® : 5 e “ with the promise of as many more when you were dead. Biorre Jacos engaged me for the work, he being ~_ = : | sent by the Chevalier =r rN 3 Fe a TNS et INR BRIT PS | REE the too] of some one else, whom you doubtless car recall far better thaa I. ‘But Monsieur Jacot has mistaken his man, for though I have led no saintly life, lam not at heart. bad, nor so as 10 asssssinate even my worst enemy; yet, as Monsieur Jacot once robbed my widowed mother, now in her grave, of just two buu- dred and fifty onzas, I have taken from him that amonnt, for it will aid me in leaving the city, and carrying with me the woman I love to some other’ spot where I can build up a home and an honest name for myself. “Should you need confirmation of what I write, seek Mademoiselle Louisette, Cabaret Soto, and she will tell you where to find Pusrre Lovis.” ‘* Well, sefior, I thank you, and also Monsieur Pierre Louis, who might bave taken me un- awares, hidden as he was in my room; to you I offer my hand in friendship.” ‘* Which I willingly grasp, sefior, for Iam Al- varez Navarro, the son of Navarro, the Cuban Insurgent.” “*Hal!l say you so? Then indeed I welcome you, sefior, though ’tis said thou hast linked thy proud father’s name with that of pirate.” * Alas! sefior, itis but too true that I bear the brand ofinfamy; but judge not until you have heard all,” said the young Cuban, sadly. a | jidge the acts of no man; it is his heart I vould see; but you have had that heaped upon | you that would turn to iron the softest heart, tor I have known of thy sorrows, boy.” ‘Senor, {thank you, and for the kind words. you have spoken to me, the outcast of my name, TI will bring glad alaige $0 our heart, for I am , uate to tell youiof thy daughter.” The Hunchback bounded to his feet, and seiz- ing the Cuban by bis shoulders, said t earnest, trembling tones: : “Boy, tell me of my child, my beautiful Stella, and i'll love thee as if thou wert my own. son.” . She is even now not far away, and well, and—’ ** And in honor?” The Hunchback's voice was deep and thrill ing as he asked the question. ** Ay, she isas pure as an angel!” “God, I thank Thee!” The huge head bowed for a moment, and wag then raised, the face having become calm once more. ‘Boy, thatis the first prayer I have uttered since I was a little boy, and then I prayed for death; but the grim monster shunned me, as though he thought that he himself would die, te come in contact with such as I am.” “‘Sefior, you are too bitter; too severeagainst yourself,” said Alvarez, feelingly. ** Ha! ha! ha! boy, yon know not my bitter. ness; I have two hearts, one of flesh and blood for those I love, and those who look not on me with dread and ridicule, and one of iron, of stone, of marble, for those I hate; but tell me of my child, and tell me ail, Alvarez, nephew of my sainted wife, my dead Jofina.” In a few words Alvarez Navarro told his story, of the raid upon the hacienda, which was plotted by Manuel Hernandez, of the. carrying off of Stella and her maid, and their release by the Chevalier Corsair, and then the deviltry of her cousin in trying to force her inte & marriage with him, but how the buccaneer chief thwarted his wicked plans. ‘And you now have nuel Hernandez in your power?’ asked the Hunchback, in hoarse mes, “Yes, sefior; I left him on board the lugrer to-night.” ** Alvarez, Don Manuel Hernandez belongs your mother’s branch of the family, who're- mained in Spain; titled, but poor, I got for him a coulmission in the army, and his gallantry won him promotion; but he was born a villain, and be will die a villain, and oh! what a death shall he not die.” ‘No, sear, not at your hands, for he is the aoa nag of the Chevalier Corsair,” said Alvarez, firmly. * And will he kill him?” “Of that thers is no d-ubt;” “Then I must seo him die, for, look at me! behold my deformed body, my hideous face and say if I, shunned of all men, wretched and avery devil, do not deserve one glimpse of heaven, for it will be joy ecstatic to see that man die; but come, let us go at once to my daughter, for, monstrosity that I am, I love my child; so come, Alvarez, my son, and take me to her thaf sunlight may penetrate the dark- ness in mry heart.” “Willingly will f guide you thither, sefior,” and the two nien leit the room together. ‘* A bottle of wine together we'll take, boy; and you, Monsieur Pierre Jacot, serve it.’ The landlord started as he heard his name, in the well-known tones of the man he believed. then lying dead in his room, and his face turned @, while with trembling hands he served a tle of bis best wine, placing it upon the table at which the Hunch and the Cuban had taken seats, “Monsieur Jacot, let me give you a little ad- vice: never hire an assassin until you are con- vinced he has no heart.” “ Ah! why, monsiewr—you are—you mean—” stammered Jao0t, and Don Ivan interrupted: .
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. -f * ; Cait _ —_— 7 i a § mem, tenelone, that Pierre Louis merely took back the money you stole from his mother years ago, and departed; but do not feel bad about it, monsieur, for y owisine is excellent, the beds are soft, the wines , 2nd I have no dread of an assassin harm- me beneath thy hospitable roof; good-night, my dear Jacot, andifl return not for a day, feel no alarm regarding me,” and the Hunch- back dashed off his wine, and, followed by the young corsair, left the cabaret. CHAPTER XL. IN THE LION’S DEN. Art ‘the time of which I write there were bayous, or lagoons, that found their way up to the very city of New Orleans, not only from the lakes, but also through the swamps border- ing the banks of the Mississippi, and so connect- ing with each other that a boat could go all the way to.the Gulf. It was by one of these bayous that Alvarez Naverro had made his way in a small pirogue, that was kept concealed at the rendezvous, or secret. anchorage of the schooner, and by the same route he returned with Don Juan, the lat- ter seated motionless in, the bow of the frail canoe, an e@ young Cu using the e that urged them. swiftly along tne dare stream, whose windings were followed only by keeping the eyes pyon the open streak, where the skies were visible between the tree-tops. “Here, sefior; we are at the Ingger; and just in time, for yonder comes the daylight,” said the young Cuban, pointing at the brighten- ing eastern sky, and skillfully guiding his pi- rogue in under the festoons of moss and sda it alongside of the lugger, which lay quictly a anchor in this nat arbor, which formed such a secluded retreat even for the large schooner, As Don Ivan sprung on deck, a slender form lided from the cabin and he felt the arms of is daughter around him; but the joy of that meeting between the Hunchback and the link that held him to life, it would be sacrilege to break the sacredness of by portrayal, and the two, the hideous man and the beautiful wo- man, I will leave alone in the delight of their reunion, and tellof the surprise that awaited Alvarez Navarro upon his return. ‘* Well, Jacinto, all has gone well, I see?” he said, ina tone of inquiry, addressing the man whom he had left in charge of the lugger, and who made no reply, but simply pointed out through the mossy curtain. The young Cuban started, for at anchor, not : ¢wo. eable-lengths further in tie inlet, lay a vessel, dark and ominous-looking. Tt looks like the brigantine,’ he whi “It is the brigantine, sefior; she came in the inlet shortly after you Jeft and dropped anchor there; yds 4 gd they know of this retreat, is hard to tell.” ‘*] think not, but only came in for an anchor- age; bnt we must be as silent as death on the lugger, for if would be impossible to get out of here, now, though to-night we or do so; keep Don Manuel Hernendez gagged, Jacinto, for if he knew of her presence near, he would as- suredly cry out for aid and betray us.” ‘Hie is with the lugger’s men, sefor, in the steerage, and tiey shall know nothing of the briganiine’s presence; but, I fear the schooner may run in, and be caught in a trap.” ‘* There is danger of it, for the chief will hardly suspect that a vessel-of-war has sought anchor- age im this little imiet, and he would doubt- less return here as soon as he saw the brigantine and cutter give up the chase,” and, glancing more searchingly upon the vessel, as the light o day increased, he continued: “It is the brigantine, I see, now, as the tide her sepa And & beauty she is, ‘too and heavier in hull, metal end men, than El Maldito, still, if the chief would fight her, he would be victorious, for he handlesthe schooner in action as a dancer does a belle in a ball- room,” said the young lieutenant, with enthusi- And all through the day there was a silence like death on the lugger, for the seamen walked the deck with shoeless feet, and conversed in whispers, Don Manuel and the lugger’s crew, except the wounded Tolosa, who had proven himselt the champion. of Stella Enderos. were gaggod.and hae in the closed steerage, and even in the cabin, Don Ivan, his daughter, and Al- varez Navarro conversed in hushed tones, until, as ovening anproached, it was a relief to see the skies. darkening With storm-clouds, hear the muttering thunder, and the howling of the winds. During the day spent in the cabin, Don Ivan Enderos had decided to dis of his home in the West Indies, and transfer his residence to Wew Orleans, a decision that rereatly pleased his daughter, and also Alvarcz Navarro, who had, in fact, ur “To-night 1 cah send you, sefior, m sweet cousin and her maid, to the elty in the lugger’s yawl, which will also carry the 9gs of treasure, and you can go at once to the cabaret of Jacot, untif you secure & gy to Ms ae “f whe A ou Uusiz varez aske ine derablo interest. See like your hotel; its | rr ee ee ee Ne eEeEeEEEOEOEeEeEeEeeee i. See Eee The Chevalier Corsair. “Will remain with the lugger until the re- turn of the schooner, and then Sefior Tolosa can return with his vessel to the West Indies.” ** And you will go back on the schooner, cou- sin Alvarez?’ n asked the maiden, “My duty calls me there, sweet cousin; it is my only home, at least for the present,” he added. And thus it was decided; and aided by the storm, on account of the near brigantine, rather than retarde the lugger’s side shortly after dark, with the Don, Stella, and the Quadroon maid, and all the treasure the Hunchback had been robbed | inlet last night and drop anchor, and I of, excepting a few jewels already disposed of by Manuel Hernandez. Before leaving the vessel, however, Don Ivan had entered the steerage and ¢ upon the man who had been so treacherous to him; but, as though afraid to trust himself in his presence, he turned quickly and sprung into the waiting boat, uttering no word to his wicked kinsman, who, bound and gagged, quailed beneath his burning gaze. Not daring to leave the lugger, for fear the schooner might arrive, Alvarez Navarro or- dered Jacinto to go in charge of the boat, with instructions to take Don Ivan and his treasure in safety to the cabaret of Pierre Jacot, and return with all speed to the vessel, and, all be- ing in readiness, he held out his hand to the maiden, seying, sadly: “Farewell, cousin mine; with your going the sunlight leaves my heart.” “Tt need not, Alvarez, for you have it to make, or mar your future life; farewell, auc my the Virgin protect you in your wanderings wiil ever be my prayer.” He handed her into the boat, and grasped the outstr>iched hand of Don Ivan. * Alvarez, my son, come to us when you can, and, when you choose to wipe from your brow the brand of pirate, my home shall be thy hore; but remember,” and his voice became deep and earnest, ‘I have left Manuel Hernan- dez in your hands, and when next we meet, I would listen wita 5 ae to the sweet story, to my waiting ears, cf his death.” ‘The Chevalier Corsair will not permit him to escape the punishment he so richly deserves; farewell!” “Give way!” said Jacinto, in a low tone, and with muffled oars the yawl left the lugger’s side, and crept slowly along close inshore, the darkness and storm hiding her from the view of the watchful eyes on board the Huntress. Without adventure Jacinto, who knew every bayou and inlet in the vicinity oi New Orleans, ded his passengers to the city, and delivered m and their treasure safely into the hands of Pierre Jacot, who turned ® at sicht of Don Ivan, and seemed most anxious to do all in his gle to make him forget that he had plotted is assassination. With a handsome recompense trom the Don, Jacinto and his four comrades returned to their awl, and were just preparing to shove off, abe, buttoned their storm-jackets closely around them to shelter them from the pelting storm, when two persons approached, enveloped in cloaks, and wearing caps. That they were naval officers, the rays of a lamp which the wind kept dancing about on its swinging chain, revealed distinctly, and the buccaneers dropped their hands upon their weapons, believing they had been surprised; but the first words of the larger of the two strangers reassured them. “Ah! here is a boat, Walter, that we can doubtless charter,” and approaching the bank of the canal, or bayou, he continued alond: “My men, do you wish to earn an onza apiece?” : “Gold is always acceptable, sir,” answered Jacinto, politely. “Well said, my man, and here isa to divide among you if you will row us to the lake.” “Tt is a bad night, captain, to be on the water; but if you are from the brigantine we will take you. . ‘ “Ah! you recognize us then? Yes, I am Captain Bylvester, her commander, and you, by the way, look like men-of-war’s-men,” “We are, sir; we are from the cutter, which joined you in the chase of the schooner of Bel- mont, go Buccaneer, day before yesterday.” “Phen the cutter has returned?’ asked the younger officer, who was Walter Nevil. “Yes, sir; she is anchored in the inlet a mile above where the brigantine lies; we just car- ried Captain Dumont to the city,” responded Jacinto, with ready lie, for, being acquainted with the names of the cutter’s officers, and hav- ing witnessed the chase of the corsair, he had the advantage of Herold Sylvester and the midshipman, especially as himself and com- rades were in seamen’s garb. “Then of course he Gid not capture the pi- rate? Now, my man, you can give way as soon as you are ready,” and Captain Sylvester and Walter Nevil settled themselves as comfortably as possible in the stern-sheets, “Give way, lads!” ordered Jacinto, and the yawl moved out into the bayou and headed for the lake, while the two American officers, little dreaming. in whose power they had placed resence of the | mornin the yaw] left themselves, went on talkin lier Corsair and the attem *T regret exceedingly, to ca * alter, that I was not on board the Huntress; but Frayne no doubt re him. did all that he céuld to ““Thére is no doubt o have heard, for you know I was notin the chase, as, having sent the boat back as you ordered, and going out to the lake on horseback the next T arrived after the Huntress had left,* ‘And the corsair cleverly eluded both the igantine ard the cutter?” “Yes, sir, and when the Huntress ran in the got the keeper of the lake-shore ca where I was stopping, to row me out to her, I never in my life saw such a dejected set of men, from Lieutenant Frayne down, and the officers, like the men, are almost inclined to look upon the schooner as a specter craft, for she showed no fiag, tney say, fired no shot, and just glided away from the brigantine like a racer from a serub.” ‘* And Frayne was to send a boat for me in the morning, you say?” ** Yes, sir; but I returned the way I went, on horseback,” “Well, lam glad I did not wait, even if this storm does drench us through, for the corsair may return at any moment, and I wish to be’ on board the brigantine.” “Yes, captain, for there is no telling, sir, when or where Belmont, the Buccaneer, may turn up, for we, of the cutter, have chased hiz. scores of times, and he’s like a sea-wizard, here, there and every where,” put in Jacinto, in- nocently. ‘“Ah! I forgot you were in the chase; tell me about it, my man.” Without the slightest hesitation the pirate tola the story, guessing at facts of which he knew nothing, and hitting strangely near the truth, for not once was he contradicted by Walter Nevil, who had heard the narrative from Lieu- tenant AED Bip “Well, Walter, it seems we have all had ad- ventures, for I arrested that Spanish gentloman for the pirate, and then drank wine with the very man I have been ordered to take dead or alive— Ha! now we get the storm from the lake, sweeping oP this bay >u; but we will soon be in comfortable quarters, and I sincerely = the corsair will not make us put to sea to- night. “There is no telling, sir, for he may be an- chored now within a few cable-lengths of the brigantine,” said Jacinto. “True, he might be; but let him come that near the guns of the Huntress and he is my prisoner.’ Jacinto made no immediate ly; but after a moment put his tiller hard down, and the yaw! dauhedtn under the overhanging branches of the trees that lined the bayou’s banks, and then, while the cold muzzle of a pistol era the temples of Harold Sylvester and Walter Nevil, he said, in deep, stern tones: a Gentlemen, you are my prisoners! Ont word or movement and you die !” CHAPTER XII. WHAT A BLUB-LIGHT REVEALED, For pen to portray the surprise, and the in dignation of Captain Harold Sylvester and Wal ter Nevil were impossible, and they at first be lieved, or rather hoped that it was a joke, anc that the crew of the boat were some of the eut- ter’s officers on a lark; but the pistols pressed against their heads, soon dispelled this illusion, while Jacinto said sternly, yet forcibly: _ “You must pardon me, gentlemen, for mak- ing you prisoners; but I fear the schooner, Bl Maldito, may return at any moment, and of course with the brigantine’s commander in ovr gages we need feel no fear, should the Cheva- ier Corsair rim into a trap, for, where your vessel lies is one of his favorite anchorages, ‘“*Then you confess to belonging to the crew of Beloqit the Buccaneer?” asked Harold Syl- vester, “Why deny it, sir, for you will soon find out that we are pirates; but will’ you give your pledge of honor, both of you, not to call out, or a to escape when we pass near the brigan- ne?’ “And if we decline?” curtly asked the officer. “Then I shall be forced to place you both in irons, much as 1 should dislike to do so; ay, and gag you too," ‘Then I pledga myself, for I wish no greater bumiliation than I now sufferin being the cap tive of a pirate.” * And F give my parole Vhonneur,” said Wal- ter Nevil, lightly, for he rather liked the’ 5d. venture, in being captured by the very pirates they were hoping to make rs. ‘Then, gentlemen, I vast ‘ou; but it is need less for me to say that shon{d you break your parole you will give the s fer your own death; give way, lads! and mind you pull steady, for in spite of the storm, some keen eye upon the brigantine may see us,” and sealing himself betvreen his prisoners, Jacinto apain took the tiNer, and once more the boat moved on in the darkness, 4 row of some moments brought them in view ture the corsair.” it, sir, from what 3
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~ = Ao & bet a bis ee ‘ ’ We >) ae — . The Chevalier Corsair. Oe ae v4 A of the dark hull and shadowy rigging of the brigantine; but op eg close inshore soon passed, and at last the yawl was headed for the secret arbor, where lay the lngger. As, at a low order from Jacinto, the men eeased atid the quick eye of the pirate cox- awain caugh ht of an object out upon the dark waters, and he cried: ‘* Lads, there’s the schooner; see, she has just td up into the wind and let fall her mud- “You are right, and that accursed blind watch on the brigantine does not see her,” said Garold Sylvester, angrily. “The watch are doubtless henting the lee of the bulwarks, sir, a night like this; but we must hasten to get Maldito out of her danger,” and as the boat swept in under the moss ery, a low, stern voice said: * Ho! cag 945 you?” “Jacinto, Sefior Navarro; you keep better wateh than the brigantine, for she neither saw us, nor the schooner, that lies at anchor a few cables’ length from her,” answered the cox- gwain. “Ha! the schooner has run in then, Jacinto?” ‘She has, sefior, and must run out too, or the break of day will show her the brigantine in -shot range.” ** She could not see the brigantine on account of the dark background of the trees; but who have you here, Jacinto, and did you see my friends safely to the city?” ““To the last question I answer yes, sefior, and to the former, permit me to introduce Ca tain Sylvester and Midshipman Nevil, of the ican brigantine-of-war Huntress, for such I learn they are.” ‘Do you mean it, Jacinto?’ asked the sur- varez Navarro. Nf ; ‘* That the Chevalier Corsair, our chief, must e, sir; but now please enter the cabin with me, and it is unnecessary to say that an at- ionnt to betray us to those on your vessel will result in your instant death,” said Alvarez Navarro, with firmness, yet politely. “We have given our parole, sir, and, will abide by our word,” haughtily answered the American captain, and they followed the Cuban into the | ’s cabin, where Tolosa lay upon & settee, glanced up with surprise at the guests the lieutenant brought in, ‘**Sefior Tolosa, are you well enough to take command of your lugger at once?’ asked Al- varez. “* Yes, Sefior Navarro, for my men are good men, if they did mutiny for the gold Don every wells t wore I in “Very well; ve your lugger our hands povgrniy tie} crew as soon as they have placed me on d the schooner, which has run in and anchored near by; when your boat returns you had better remain where you are until morning, and then the b tine will set sail, and you can run out and head for home, -- al my advice and stick to an honest ‘Pll do it, Sefior Navarro, for I am not a bad maz at heart.” ‘* You have that, Tolosa; now here is @ purse of the Don left for ou; farewel and te pe ed you,” and Alvarez the of the lngger’s skipper and turned away, saying to the two officers: Bar ready, gentlemen, I will send for In a few moments he returned from the deck and bade Harold Sylvester and the midshipman to follow him, and motioned them into the stern-sheots of the boat alon de, and in which were visible, huddled together, gagged and in irons, Don Manuel Hernandez and lugger’s crew, while at the oars sat the men of the schooner. ‘Give way; steady all of you, and if a man os above & 4 Pe oe ve my knits to eart,” came rn tones 0 young Ouban. The oars, muffled at the rowlocks, and the blades wra: in moss, fell silently into the water, and out of the embowered basin moved the boat, heading then close inshore, but to- ward the lake There, not two cable-lengths away, lay the Huntress at anchor, moving restlessly upon the waters, and t im gress at her anchor, as though a thing of life, an conscious that mischief was going on beneath her very eet te neglect, Mae Abed boty of ae **You are speaking too loud, sir,” said the pirate lieutenant, sternly. **Pardon me; but the gross negieot of duty on my vessel made me forget, and—” “Boat ahoy! what boat is that?” came across the waters in ringing tones. ‘* They are awake on the schooner,” muttered Harold Sylvester. ‘* It behooves us to be ever on the alert, sir,” answered Alvarez, and before he could answer the hail, there came the stern order: “Stop that boat, or I'll sink her!” “Ay, ay, sir; [am Alvarez Navarro, sefior.” “Ay, ay, come alongside,” came the answer. “Oh, curse those lubbers! they. are deaf as well as blind,” groaned Harold Sylvester, glanc- ing anxiously at the a hoping to see some sign of life on board. ‘*The storm drowns the sound of our voices, sir,” said Alvarez, ** But it does not make them blind; but, was not that your chief who hailed?’ “Yes, sefior; it was the Chevalier; but, here weare,” and the boat ran alongside the schooner, and tho lieutenant led the way upon deck, ‘‘ Ah, Alvarez, I am glad to see you; but, why did youleave the lugger?” asked the Cheva- lier, meeting him. ‘*She isin the basin, sefior chief, and I have gives the seforita into the hands of her father; ut, quick, sir, get up anchor, for yonder, in the shadow of the land lies the brigantine, and only the darkness and storm has prevented your bein discove oi cas meres a! say you s0, my goo varez? en u with the anahot at once, and we'll put to sea “4 the face of the storm, for never I wish to meet in a death-struggle the brave man who commands yonder vessel.” “Victor DeLisle, I thank you.” “God in Heaven! who are you?” and the Chevalier Corsair started back as though a ser- pent had ona him. “*T am Harold Sylvester, and my Government has sent me to hunt you down.” ‘There is some strange mystery here; what means this, sefior Navarro?’ “Tt means, Victor, that one of your men cleverly made me and Midshipman Nevil pris- oners; now you shall know all, but, now I warn ou that you are in danger of being seen by he brigantine’s crew, and you had better slip off to sea.” ‘Harold Sylvester, you are tho same noble fellow as in the olden , and it moves me to my inmost heart to stand in your presence now, and with the hand of infamy upon me; sie you are no prisoner of mine, and I will you at once on board your own vessel, for—” ‘* Ho, setior chief! alight! a light on the brig- antine! we are discovered,” cried Alvarez Na- varro. ‘* Ay, ay! then get to sea at once!” was the uiet reply of the Chevalier, as he turned to lance at the Huntress, on board of which lights were flashing, and even stern orders *T am sorry, Captain Sylvester, that the acy of my vessel and crew prevents my re- will have to be my ni Sod ry gest ft, Who ave my temporary ; but, who 7 “gape head ? he ed out over the e, ‘The r’s crew, sefior chief, and the pris- oner, Don uel,” called out Jacinto, who had remained in the boat with the Spanish officer. “Hal I had forgotten him; bring him on : Jacinto, and gy ae len see eri, out of range, my men, ou don’t wish knocked to pieces.” , To ungag and unbind the | r’s crew was but the work of a moment with Jacinto, and then he aided Don Manuel up the pangway to the schooner’s deck, while the men in boat, in spite of their stiffened arms from being beund, quickly rowed away in the gloom. AR, Don Manuel Hernandez, Iam glad to meet you once more,” said the Chevalier Cor- sair, with mock politeness. The ppestand scowled, for the gag yet re- mained in his mouth, and the chief added: “Take him into the cabin, Jacinto; and, gen- tlemen, will you not also go there, for the brig- antine is g ready to open upon us?” Withouta word Harold Syly and Walter Nevil followed Jacinto and his prisoner, just as the schooner’s anchor swung clear, her sails were set, and she darted away from her danger- one position under the very guns of the brig- antine. Rie Bravo! I meorer see Se eee heks ond evil, every man nped or the and a the guns,” cried Harold Sylvester, in admira- tion of the splendid pline on board the schooner. ‘‘And the Huntress is still at anchor, sir,” said the middy. “Yes, and t tow Brerae will not follow, ex- ting me out in the morning. Pe He shall know you are on board, Captain Sylvester,” said the Chevalier Corsair, who heard the latter remark, as the two officers hesitated at the cabin companionway. Both turned with surprise, the chief called out: “A blue-light here, Sefior Navarre,” And, as he spoke, one, two, three boomed forth from the brigantine, whese bake were lighted up with red glare, and her crew seen g about in evident excitement and confusion. But, at anchor as was the Huntress, the guns were badly aimed and the iron shot flew wide of the mark. “Now, Captain Sylvester, you and young officer stand here, please; burn the blue- ght, sefior!” And the dagzling: glare of the blue-light threw out b ter than day every part of the beautiful schooner, from deck to truck, and revealed to the startled eyes of Lieutenant Frayne and the crew of the Huzitress their cap- tain a prisoner, with Walter Nevil by his side, and standing near the tall, splendid form of the Chevalier Corsair, their captor. It was a brilliant orama for a moment, but one that sent dread to the heart of the crew of the brigantine, and when the darkness once more shut the flying El Maldito from their vision, a wild yell burst from their lips, and the ringing orders of Lieutenant Frayne came to the ears of all on board the schooner, while, as the glare of the light died from before their eyes, they saw that the Huntress was in hot ursuit, following the buccaneer out over the lack waters, that the storm was lashing into mad fury. But suddenly, out from the shadowy shore, burst flash after flash, and the glare showed the cutter at anchor and firing upon the rushing schooner; but, as in the case of the brigantine’s guns, they were not truly aimed. And & upon the now iptensely thrilling scene old Sylvester and Walter Nevil saw the Huntress alter her course and stand close in toward the cutter, while Lieutenant Frayne’s words were distinctly heard, as he shouted forth poe his speaking-trumpet; “Por God’s sake, Captain Dumont, do not fire vane the warns as Captain Sylvester and Mid- y oes evil are prisoners on his deck. ery of surprise burst from the cutter’s decks, and then the stentorian tones of the oid weather-beaten captain shouted back; “Ay, ay, sir; but we'll run him down and carry his decks by boarding.” And both crews uttered a cheer that floated threateningly over the storm-swept sea, and the eaptive officers turned their eyes upon their captor to mark its effect; but, ealm, indifferent even, he stood near the wheel, and the crew, in grim and ominous silence, were at the gu stripped to their waists, unheeding the co blasts and dashing spray, and ready for the struggle, come when, or how it might. CHAPTER XLII. A SAD RETURNING. SEVERAL weeks have passed away since the ht of the pirate schooner from the sbores of e Borgne, with the brigantine and cutter in full chase, and the scene of my story changes from the land of ae ee the and magnolia ves of the esa South, the i winds and rock-bound coast of the Rippled by the fresh wind that was sweeping in from the sea, the beautiful harbor of Boston was alive with sails of all kinds, from the fish- ing Fina sepah s pay New En nab wmgati-y the , or bu 4 com- in from some’ di t land. ong the craft coming up the harbor was a es of two hundred tons, high balwarks. tha fe cle Aang however, the boxes of fruit upon her Half a dozen dark-faced sailors were loung- ing forward, Bee Biyy venie ny build, and bonckageee, % beard, was stand- ing at the wheel, w two or three other sea- men were near by, and watching with interest rer e "gc 00 wored through the water at a fair penecliy Fev ing her own with a trim b: tine-of-war that was also heading for an in front of the city. recognize was that of a craft that had been in action, for her hull was searred by shot, and her ———— had been shot away, while her sails ed ragged holes where the iron had cut through m. docks. Hardly had the sails been furled on the brig, when darkness came on, or rather , for a full moon ted ap the harbor and city; but with the d of daylight the crew of davits, and soon after put ashore, and were persons besides the two oarsmen. Landing under the shadow of : E i ~ . 4 4 Ro oh PEE sibel ee wee ae oe ey eS Pe Se ee eee re 4 . =; S a K Bo 0S=57 C= 2
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. . before it o e- ‘ ing again in Lake Borgne that night, that I ran | ub discovering eh ie, y . grave, and his eyes blinded with tears as he read; Bes: cue from the shore. ; “Yes, sefior, we will obey you,” answered the man, cine y ge Be : Ww up the ide, untila path branched around to the right, the three men came to a halt, and one said in a low, sad tone: “Here we part, gentlemen, and doubtless for- ever.” ‘*T hope not, Victor, for now that I know you to be different from what the world calls you, I will resign rather than have to bunt you down; though outiaw you may be, through the misfortune you brought upon yourself in the rescue of Conrado Costello, I well know that toward your own jand, and its flag, you have been true, and never turned your guns, and I will make an official report to Government of what you are; ay, and say, too, in the threat- ening wer with Great Britain you will strike a blow upon the seas for the United States.” have promised you, Harold, and I will keep my word; by a strange coincidence your brigentine bas arrived in port just as we have; but they little dream on hoard that they were a fifty feet of the vessel they looked or. “And how could they, with your schooner disguised so skillfully iuto a clumsy merchant brig? but your secret is safe, and not until I see that you have sailed will I tell the secret; but you still think that it was the cerarel of Con- rado Costello she has been in action with, and not an English vessel?” f ‘¢Yes, Harold, for her scars are all forward. showing that she received them from a vessel flying from her, and the caravel is about the - only craft, excepting my E! Maldito that could on ay ad of yon brigantine and also wound er. “Yet why should the caravel be in these wa- ters, for it is evident the fight was very recent, as Frayne would not have awaited to get into port to repair damages. For a moment the Chevalier was silent, and then he said, sadly: “ Harold, I will tell you why this caravel is in these waters; do you remember that my sis- ter Mabel and Conrado Costello were once en- gaged Re! Yes, alas! I do remember it.” “ Well, he has come on bere to drag her from 3er home, and that is why L followed him; yes, Il was in chase of him off the Balize, but a fear- * ful storm, you remember it, caused me to run my course,.and that is why, in b in and anchored in the inlet; our vessel I put at once to sea, and,I headed for Boston, hoping to reach here before the caravel; God it that I have done so.” ‘* Amen! bat if Costello has been here before us, Victor, then woe be unto him, for I'll hunt ‘ him frorn off the sea.” “And so will I, Harold; but I detain you, so will let you go down the shore and return to ‘our vessel; but,” and he paused a moment, ‘if you see my sister, and my old father, tell them that Iam not as black as I am painted; gentlemen, farewell,” and as though fearing to trust himself further the Chevalier raised his cap, wheeled quickly and strode on up the hill, Harold Sylvester and Walter Nevil watchin him with pitying eyes, for in the time they been together, as guests on the schooner, since the flight in gd storm from Lake Borgne, they _ had learned to respect him in spite of the brand - that was upon him. Reaching the summit of the hill the Cheva-. cemetery. The moon loo lier, as on that night long before, stepp lightly over the stile, and once more goed ta the o lonel runible oft the city lace, W y F outlaw. ing i Pat and deso- » from other houses, te $ ers unmarked, save 28 0! had in life. St pretentious tomb erected to the captain towered high, and there upon each side was $ 3 be Oye grave stl uncovered by the flowers the Seine sealed ahd Wandie oe he glanced ve mall marble sla those who loved them dead } each loving are wont to place above those “IN MEMORY OF - “MARIAN DALTON, 4 Aged 40 years. “Died of a broken heart.” No word, no cry came from the lips of the strong man; but his head bent forward and re took its kward fiight to the scenes of long ago, when life was bright with hope for him, and she who lay sleeping there beneath the cold, wet earth, was his promised bride. For a long time he remained thus in silent, bitter grief, and then the sound of voices awoke him to himself once more, and looking up, out- side the graveyard fence he saw two persons walking slowly along together. One was a rhan, the other a woman, and they were wending their way around the hill, to where grew a solitary tree overlooking the bay, and beneath which was, or bad been in the olden time, a rustic seat, “They are going to the. old trysting-place where so many tales of love have been to! ,and where you, my poor, poor Marian, were wont to wander with me. ‘*Died of a broken heart; they have put sad words upon your tomb, Marian, to meet the eye of one wio broke your pure heart; ah me! it has turned my poor heart to iron to come here once more to these familiar scenes, and be welcomed by thy grave.” He looked sadly down upon the mound, essed his lips upon tke cold marble, and risin eft the cemetery, wending his way in the di- rection of the city. A walk of some minutes and again the Cheva- lier entered the gate that led to the beantiful grounds surrounding the De Lisle mansion. Standing in the shadow of the evergreen hedge he gazed in gloomy silence upon the grand old homestead, a spacious mansion of stone, with acres around it, though it steod almost in the heart of the busy city. At length he summoned up courage to ap- proach the door. It was fastened, but a blow on the heavy’ brass knocker caused steps to be heard within, and the portal opened, to reveal an old negro by the hail jJamp. “Jacob, not a word, unless you would see me ean said the Chevalier, in a quick, but low ne. The old negro started ‘back, his hands out- stretched, while in a husky voice he cried: ‘Pore God, itis Massa Victor.” ‘Yes, Jacob; the Prodigal Son has returned, yet not to stain the old place long with his pre- sence,” he said, bitterly. ‘Lordy, Massa Victor, don’t talk so, for old Jacob is glad to see you, though they do “ag isa mighty bad man; yet you don’t look t, sir; but come in, sir, come into the library, as it might not be safe for you here.” He led the way through the hall, but at the door the Chevalier checked him. ‘Is my father not in there?” ‘* Massa Victor, is it possible where your father is?’ asked dued tone. “Then he is not at home?” “* Yes, Massa . home; in that home where he will stay until the good God cal! him to him at jedgment.” _ “Dead! dead! and with a curse im his heart for me, his outcast son.” : The strong man staggered into the room and sunk into a chair before the blazing fire, while old Jacob said, softly: ‘No, Massa Victor, you wrong the ole man, sir, for he did forgive you, sir, ‘deed he did and said with his last breath he hoped God eee his poor boy back to honor and right. ‘ Jacob, said my father this of me, or do tell i to — on ae , caer int negro by ea is strong fan until he made him writhe with pain. “It am the truth, ‘fore God it am, Massa ctor.” ‘‘And he did not curse me with his latest breath?” ‘* No, massa, no, sir; he gave you his blessin’, wherever might be, on the sea or land.” ‘God above, I thank Thee!” and the sorrow- erushed man again sunk into his seat, and fora moment trembled with the deep emotions that flooded his inmost being. - ** And my sister?” he at last asked. **Ah, Massa Victor, she always loved yon, sir, and—but hasn’t you seen her, sir?” Seen my sister, Jacob? why, wheredhould I see her but at home?” “‘But she went forth to see you, sir, only half an bour ago.” ** Jasob, in God’s name what do and the | “Why, Massa ee ee ee > but IN tell you w ‘ me &, woh thi seo shrieked the man. Yeu, air; he came here to-night, sir, and he ou don’t know acob, in a sub- ; you mean?” evalier was again upon his feet. Vietor, your eyes ware. 3 upon the cold marble, while memory. | man, for Victor, your old father am at ot ~ | told Miss Mabel you had sent him to tell her to come to hea om you was afraid to be seen—” “ Ha! the devil’s work has begun ; it was them that I saw going down to the Trysting Tree; bat Tl be on his path at once.” Without another word to the startled Jaco’ he darted out of the library and the maneion, or the old negro muttering dolefully to self: ““T fears Massa Victor has been so bad that the good Lord has made him clean gone craay ; but I hopes he’ll come back to the paths 0’ rightetude and goodness, or poor Missy Ma- bel will droop an’ die, same as Missy Marian did,” and kneeling down by the table the pious old soul,-who bad been half a century in the De Lisle family, raised his eyes and hands above, and prayed earnestly: on, ee in the beautiful «Oh, tho blessed aie, don’t turn away Thy ears from me ’cause hain’t got. no lily skin, but hearken unto my words, and lead back out o* the rugged path o” sin that poor boy, who is sowin’ tares upon the wide sea—tares that will spring up an’ make hemp to hang him with, an’ place him in a igno~ miny grave, on which ther utiful flowers o'' Thy Love will never grow, but be choked out by the weeds o’ ther devil’s garden, *“Oh, Lord, the precious God, hear this ole nigger’s prayer, and fetch that poor lost lamb back into Zion’s fold, an’ not let him plunge in the darkness of sin off the precipice of destruc- tion. “Do this, good Lord, for Aim, and Vl axe nothin’ for the ole nigger—though thar’s heaps I warts, my precious Savior: Amen.” ; CHAPTER XI{f1. Havine determined to make his home in the future in New Orleans, Don ivan Enderos, a few days after his arrival at the cabaret of Pierre Jacot with his beautiful daughter, pur- chased a handsome mansion upon the Rue St. Charles, and-ordering it thoroughly refitted and, refurnished, determined to go to the Westy Indies and settle up his affairs there. Unwilling to trust his daughter again from under his protection, Don Ivan engaged parsage for her also, on a large and swift-sailing clipper ship that was bound to Boston, but which prom- ised to touch at Havana and land him, for e handsome consideration in gold. As the packet was to sail by daybreak, the Don, with Stella, and her maid, Ninetta, re- ree on board at night, and sought their com- ortable state-rooms, and when they awoke late the next morning, at the steward’s sn- nouncement of breakfast, they found the vessel graeeially riding over the blue waters of the ne to the deck, to await until his daughter had made her toilet, Don Ivan started. visibly as he beheld two familiar forms stand- ing upon the quarter-deck, and gazing with in- terest over the rolling waves, “Tam really delighted, Don Henrico, that my sister and myself were persuaded to join you_and Miss Enderos in your Northern trip, for I dearly love the sea,” YESS ““ And so do I, M. Valverde, and now that we -are in deep water, I confess I am like another had a deep weight upon me while in the city, one I will cast from me, at least for awhile,” “T noticed that you seemed ill of late, Don Henrico, and I feared the cause of your worry was that very strange man, of the same name as yourse m Ivan Enderos.” “He was; I have more cause to dread that man, M. Noel, than you can ever know; but here come Edna and ine.” The Hunchback had listened with rapt at- tention to every word he had heard, and from sight against the mizzenmast, as there suddenly on deck Edna Enderes and Manine verde, both looking exquisitely beautiful in their traveling suits of dark blue, . cf A again in m which shall hideous fi eS ee v “Ha! it is the Hunohback—hold! fer of God! hold! Jocko!” and M. Nool forward just in time to catch do yeu mean’ almost}
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The Chevalier Corsair. turned te see how near be had been to death, | sel, which, in spite of her lateen sails while Stella, with a shriek, threw her arms Jocko, furious with rage, shouted: “Oh massee, massee, lettee Jocko killee badee man.” ** No, sir, stand aside I say! and go forward, or Pll have you hurled into the sea,” cried M. sternly, still standing between him and the Huuchback. ‘*Massee maddee wid Jocko,” said the dwarf, =eproachfull hs ‘Yes, go erward: sir,” Silently the hideous black obeyed, and then M. Noel turned to Don Ivan. “You have had a second narrow escape, sir, from death at Jocko’s hands; if your on board this vessel means harm to Don Hen- rico or Mademoiselle Enderos, as I believe it does, beware of a third attempt that yonder dwarf may make upon your life,” “MM. Valverde, until ten minutes IT knew not of the presence of yourself or of Don Hen- {rico on this ship; but permit me to present to ‘you a: Rapa Stella, this is M. Noel Val- verde whom I owe a larger debt of grati- tude than I caa ever repay.” “* Wis daughter!” the words came with a sneer from Don Henrico; but showing no sur- , no matter what he felt at seeing an angel n form and face the daughter of a human monster, Noel Valverde raised his hat politely at the introduction and said: ‘Tt gives me pheasure to meet the Sefiorita Enderos,” and turning, with the easy courtesy natural to him, he continued, with a glance of , warning at Don Henrico: ‘‘Don Enderos, you have met Don Ivan before, and so has Sefiorita Edna; but permit me to present the Sefiorita Stella,” and motioning to Manine, he also intro- duced her to the Hunchback and his daugh- ter. surprised, Don Henrico graciously ac- iewteliged the introduction to She beautiful gil, who was also most kindly received by both aud Manine, With hiy usual presence of mind, Don Ivan at once castoff all feeling of restraint, and entered into pleasant conversation with ail, so that neither Manine or Stella dreamed of what had taken place in the past to cause hatred between those t men, or the deadly attack of Jocko upon the Hunchback. Though not believing the assertion of the Hunchback that he had not known of his pres- ence on board the ship, Don Henrico, with Jocko near, and the low, stern warning M. Noel had given him, felt littlo dread of an attack upon him, at least for the present, and led the way to breakfast, without the slightest annoy- ance upon his face; but with a determination in his heart that between the Black Dwarf and himeelt the Hunchback should never reach the end of his voyage. “Tt will be a pity,” he muttered, “for that beautiful girl's sake, to make her fatherless; but y life is worth more to me than can be such a ather to her.” And, with this deadly intention in his heart, Don Henrico became almost gay, as they all sat together at breakfast; but in the heart of the Hunchback was @ black resolve, too, that his half-brother should yet die by his hand, for, had not there been sworn a fearful treble oath that must be kept, that he might reap the full bene- fit of his heritage of hatred? And away the ship flew on her voyage, 7, it unmindful of the loves and hates on boar at length the green isle of Cuba hove in sight, and neither one of the half-brothers had died by the other’s hand, for Jocko’s black face had kept Don Ivan from deadly action, and his ap- —s on deck, by night, always accompanied y his guardian angel, his beautiful daughter, had held in check Don Henrico and the too will. ing. Black Dwarf. ut, suddenly a sail hove in sight, an armed vessel, coming out of Havana, and carrying at her peak the flag of Great Britain, away sped the swift clipper ship, for already had war. been declared between Engiand and the United’ States, and the unarmed merchantman had to fly from the cruiser, holding on her northerly course, and carrying Don Ivan and Stella forced passengers upon her decks. CHAPTAR XLIV. RETRIBUTION, Wuen the Chevalier rushed ont of his boy- hood’s home, leaving old Jacob praying in the library, he felt that his worst fears were real- ‘ized, and that Conrado Costello had really got- ten Mabel into his power, through a clever story that he came from him. As the two persons had passed the cemetery. when he knelt by Marian Dalton’s grave, it seemed as though there was a certain familiar a poscinine Whe ; but ws ed ie esd failed who were the two su lovers, ew. rere d what Jacob had to say, he knew that t ded also to the shore, and that in the inlet that uiet anch for a vessel. . tom Prariciell along the path, he sud- denly stopped, for out of the inlet glided a ves- around her father, as though to shield him, as unusual kind of ? a barkatine, a in those days, yet a of rig that would attract less attention in a North y oa port than a three-masted caravel, with huge lateen sails; besides, it dis- guised her beyond casual tion, from any vessel’s crew that might know her. Remembering how his own beautiful schooner had been skillfully metamorphosed into a clumsy , the Chevalier understood the cheat at onee, and down the hillside he dashed at full speed, found his two men patiently waiting in the boat, and epringing into the stern-sheets gave the order to pull for the schooner in a manner that caused the rowers to lose no time. ; “Did you see that queer craft running out just now, sefior chief?” asked one of the men. ‘* Yes, it is the game I am after.” “T thought she hadn’t an honest look, sir, and she came sneaking out from inshore somewhere as though she had been in mischief.” “She has been—way ’nough!” and the boat touched the schooner’s side, ‘“Up with that boat lively, lads! Sefior Al- varez raise the anchor and set the craft under sail, and, as soon as we have passed the fort, call the crew up, for there is work ahead of them,” was the stern order. ** Ay, ay, sir; but there is a gentleman wait- ing to see you, sir; he isin the cabin, and it is our late guest, Midshipman Nevil.” “Ah!” and seeing that his orders were al- ready being obeyed the Chevalier entered the cabin, and said pleasantly, as Walter Nevil arose to meet him: ‘*Glad to see you back, Mr. Nevil; but have you news for me?” “Yes, sir; we went on board the Huntress, and Mr. Frayne making his report, Captain pe alge bade me return and say to -you that after the schooner dropped the brigantine astern, she came upon the caravel in the dark- ness, and a running fight of some hours fol- lowed; but the caravel escaped in the darkness, and seemed to be heading fer Boston harbor, though inquiry among the shipping, which 1 was ordered to make, shows that no such vessel has run in.” ‘*You are mistaken, Midshipman Nevil, for, as you saw how thoroughly I disguised this schooner, with false bulwarks; and changing her rig, so has the caravel been metamorphosed, and, you may say to Captain Sylvester that she has just put to sea, and that. Conrado Costello has my sister Mabel in his power.” ‘‘Ob, Captain Belmont! is it as bad as that?’ cried the middy, with much sympathy, calling the Chevalier by his middle name of Belmont, which he had assumed when outlawed. ‘It is true, sir; but I am now getting under way, and shal) follow the caravel to sea, and though he ran away from the brigantine he cannot from El Maldito.” T wish you success, sir, and Captain Syl- vester will not be far astern of you, when he learns that Miss De Lisle is in that man’s ower,” and grasping the Chevalier’s hand in arewell the noble-hearted t feet, 3 middy was soon in his waiting boat, and on his way back to the brigantine, on board which there was great rejoicing at the return of Harold Sylvester and himself, for Lieutenant Frayne had in- tended to go ashore in the morning and report the capture of bis commander, and a midship- man, and their supposed death at the hands of cruel pirates. As though fortune favored Conrado Costello, the anchor of the schooner could not be raised, it having in some way become fast in a rock on the bottom, and the cable had to be cut, so that precious time was lost, and the caravel had lente a long start, before the schooner was airly under way. Then again the wind, that had been fresh up the harbor, died away when the schooner was off Nick’s Mate, and she hardly moved. through the water, while afar off at sea a six-knot breeze was blowing, and with a glass the cara- vel was discove dashing swiftly along, and steadily changing her rig back to her lateen to make her @ And yet the schooner could have made better time, if under her regular rig; but the Chevalier dared not, in the very entrance to the harbor, throw off his disguise, as the fort might disable him, and with the foe he sought in sight. Pacing the deck with an,impatience the crew had never seen him show before, the Chevalier turned his © upon, the distant caravel, and then over the side, to see if the schooner was really moving, and thus it went on until the east grew rosy with the ge ayes of dawn, and a brisk breeze sprung up with the rising sun. Then away glided the disguised vessel, until once free of outgoing and incoming craft, there was a stern order from the chief: ‘ “On deck, all of you, men! Up with those gitns, lads! Down into the hold with those xes! Merrily the crew sprung to work, and like | magic the fruit-boxes disappeared from the decks, and out of the hold were raised the heavy guns, while the racks, with small-arms, encircled the masts, and the false bulwarks were taken off, A few moments more the old safla were taken down, one by one; the cross-trees were lowered to the deck and stowed away, and the snow- white canyas, the schooner’s mainsail, migzer- sail, topsails, staysail and were set with an alacrity that was remarkable. And, as though feeling proud to be herself onee more, the beautiful vessel bent to the breeze and rushed over the waters with a speed that brought a wild cheer from her crew. ‘**Now show us the caravel, sefior,” cried Al- varez Navarro, with enthusiasm. “She was just there at daylight, a mere speck; but though we have lost ber we will soon raise her above the horizon, for, Bl Mab dito, my beautiful bird of the sea, you are rac- ing with the wind itself,” answered the Cheva- lier, with pardonable admiration of his beaut#- ful vessel, ‘*Your prophecy was true, sefior chief; the look-out sees the carayel,” said Alvarez Navar- ro, an hour after, and as he spoke there came the cheering ery from aloft: My eg nit into; I knew I of Ay, ay, Jacinto; those 8 eves yours would soon find her; whipeaony? cities out the Chevalier, with considerable excitement in his manner. ** Dead ahead, sir.” ‘* What do you make her?” ‘There was a dead silencé followed the ques- tion, and then came the reply, and it brought a wild yell from the crew. ‘* Tt is the lateen rig, sefior.” ** Noble Jacinto; those words shall make you a lieutenant on the schooner; descend to the deck, sir.” The man came slowly down, and was met by the Chevalier, who said earnestly: ‘‘Sefior’ Jacinto, you have ever been a man and true aboard this vessel, and I reward you now by making you nextin rank to Lieu- tenant Alvarez.” : A cheer answered the words of their chief, for the newly-made officer was most popular with all on board. With all sail set the schooner fairly flew along, and soon the lateen sails of the caravel were'seen from the deck, and all eyes eagerly watched them as they rose above the horizon. ‘* Sail ho!” “Ay, ay; whereaway?” and the Chevalier hailed the top anxiously, for he dreaded a cruiser might appear and drive him away from ame ‘**In a line with the caravel, sir; it is.a large vessel, a clipper ship, and—” **And what, sir?” asked the chief, as the look- out paused, “The caravel is in chase of her, sir.” ‘““Ha! say you so, my man?’ and the chief + e's into the ratlines and quickly ascended the rigging and leveled his glass. ““By Heaven! you are right, Soulé! She is within a mile of her, end there goes a gun for her to heave-to; but she still holds on— Hal another gun! and yet the ship refuses to come to,” and, descending to the deck, the Chevalier ordered every additional sail set that would catch a breath of wind, j And, as the flying vessel fairly bounded from wave to wave, the sails of the caravel and ship arose more rapidly, the one pursued, the other pursuing, and the deep boom of the guns show- ing that the chased craft still beld on her course, unmindful of the iron hail sent after her. At length the ship was seen to steer wildly, and, coming to, it was made a t that a well-aimed shot from the caravel bad cut away her bow-sprit, and the gallant merchant vessel had been compelled at last to come to, or be sunk by her armed pursuer,. And yet it seemed but a short-lived triumph for the crew of the caravel, for, intent on their chase, they had not noticed the schooner in their wake, until they sprung on board the ship, and some quick eye fell upon the coming corsair rushing down upon them, To spring back upon their own craft; eut the | lashings that bound the two vessels id was an instant’s work, and the caravel stood away, as though to size her adversary. A short observation proved who her = ag nist was, and with her men at her guns changed her course so as to meet the schooner. To gaze upon the two ed vessels, one could not but be lost in admiration at their exquisite beauty of model, and symmetry of rig; while though the schooner was a trifle the largest, the caravel carried two more guns, and a score more men, But the two_were beautifully matched for a sea-fight, the Il Maldito’s greater epeen making up for what she lacked in metal and men. Instinctively feeling that it was to be a battle to the death, the crews of both vessels had gone to their guns without orders, and each craft was in thorough Betting trim, and the same feeling of hatred that inspired the two commanders tiv ow ig men. ey drew nearer to each other the clipper ship lay drifting upon. the waters, all on board own | deck, or to seek safety in fligh tor: age ' one on board the merchant ema who heow tiie too deeply interested in the impen ‘to notice bo dead and waunaee ss on tito i
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is firey for tote the famous El Maldfto, the craft of the Chevalier Corsair. That one was Stella Enderos. And there was one other on board the mer- chantman who the caravel, and knew it to be under the command of the pre- tended Padre Bonito, but in reality Conrado Costello, the conspirator.* And that one was Don Ivan, the Hunchback. Nearer and nearer drew the two sea-warriors together, until a fash came from the caravel’s Low, and a shot went hurtling toward the schooner. But no response was given, and a second shot was fired from the caravel, and down came the English ensign, which she had been flying, and up went a black flag, with ared dagger in the conter, Yet, still there came no response from the schooner, and her peak remained flagiess; but, with the speed of a whirlwind, she still came on. Luffing up suddenly, the caravel sent a broad- side ‘upon the schooner, and well-aimed; the crashing of timbers was distinctly heard on ‘board the clipper ship; but, though staggered, the beautiful vessel swept on, not a spar, or roa nee » And still no reply, but another cruel broad- side from the caravel. ‘**Great God! has he no guns?” asked the clip- per ship’s commander. ‘The caravel will blow him outof the water,” said the Hunchback, while M. Noel cried, with ‘enthusiasm : “He intends to carry the caravel by board- ! ang Oh, God! this is horrible!” and Manine Val- ‘verde bent her head in her bands, for, witha lass handed her by her brother, she recognized e tali form of the Chevalier Corsair. “There stands the schooner’s commander— he Chevalier chief,” suddenly called out the ‘Hunchback, and his daughter added: ** And Alvarez, father, is by his side.” The schooner was now near enough for those on the ship to distinctly see the Chevalier Cor- sair, standing erect and calm upon his quarter- deck, and directing the movements of his vessel, which the heavy fire of the caravel was wound- deep! a OEY vantage, after a broadside from his foe, the schooner attempted to run between the aravel and the ship, when, putting about quickly, the Jateen rig sent another hail of iron upon her adversary, but which went crashing into the merchantman with terrific force. There were shrieks and curses, groans, and then @ moment’s silence: but, beneath that deadly broadside several went down, and among them poor Jocko, killed in his tracks, and Don Henrico Enderos. M. Noel bounded toward the fallen Dwarf, but was recalled by a piercing shriek from Edna, who was bending over the prostrate form of her father, while she cried, in heart- rending tones: ““Wather! father! Speak to me, and say you are not dying. 46 The eyes of the wounded man opened outed G and rousing an instant met those of the Hunch- back fixed upon him with malignant hatred, and he said, faintly: “Tvan, in my death you have your revenge; spare Edna, my child.’ Down upon his knees dropped the Hunchback, and bending over until his lips were near the pallid face, he said, softly: ‘Yes, Henrico, { will, for, with thy death, the bitterness of my heart dies, too.” A smile crossed the i of Don Henrico, and the basely born, who had wrongfully held a heritage of gold and a proud name, was dead, while the one whose inheritance had been sor- row, bitterness and hatred, bent in triumph above him. “Oh! why does he not fire?” The pleading bid [Ep from Manine Val- verde, who, unmindful of the death scene about her, had her eyes riveted upon the splendid form, that in the midst of death and destruc- tion, stood unmoved upcn his vessel, which was rushing down to grapple with his adversary, the very silence with which he approached being ominous, and as terrible al as the shots o' the caravel. And the cry caused those on the clipper ship once more to turn their gaze upon the two ves- sels, and a shout went up from their midst, as at last they saw the schooner strike; but it was with three-score men bounding upon the deck of the caravel, led by the ringing ery all heard: “Boarders away! follow me! And then the roar of the guns ceased, and the rattle of sma'l-arms, the clash of steel a ag we | and the eries of combatants followed, an the mad ckaos of sounds struck terror to the hearts of those who looked on in safety. ; ‘Oh, brother Noel, must he be killed? Will you not aid him?’ cried Manine, earnestly. In Heaven’s name, Manine, who do you ? said the surprised brother. ‘That man! the Sottosgal ge , for he it was thaé saved my honor, my life, for you re- I 4 all to you, though I kept name,” | I | : ——— eee eee — The Chevalier Corsair. ** And he it was, the Chevalier Corsair, who saved me frem worse than death, Noel,” and Edna Enderos sprung from the side of ber dead father, and stood before the man to whom she was engaged. “Then to his aid I will go, pirate though he be; ho! men, who will follow me to yonder deek to serve a noble man?’ A dozen of the cli "s erew answered with a cheer, but the v of the Hunchback strained them. ‘‘Hold! the fight has ended; the Chevalier Corsair triumphs!” It was true; cries of mercy were heard on the coravel, and men, in their fright, were springing into the sea. ‘*Strike no man who cries for quarter!” All heard the humane order, and all recog- nized the ringing voice that had commanded: ** Boarders, follow me!” “Thank God he is safe,” said Manine, fer- vently, and with staring eyes she watched the confused mass on the two vessels that lay side by side, and her face flushed as she saw a boat ut off for the clipper ship, and she recognized fh the stern the form of the Chevalier; but it paled again when she sow that he held in his arms the form of a young girl. It was Mabel De Lisle, and she was uncon- scious, for when she beheld her brether on the schooner’s deck she had swooned away, know- ing well the moment of death had come for either Conrado Costello or himself. Over the ship’s side came the corsair chief, still bearing his sister in his arms; but he start- ed, and came to a standstill, when he beheld the little group awaiting bim; yet, recovering him- self quiekly, he said in his low, musical tones, and from which every atom of anger had gone, as had the fire of battle from his face: ‘Ladies, your pardon for bringing a scene of corns before your eyes; but war is unavoid- able. ‘We are grateful for your victory, Sefior Chevalier, for, from all accounts, we all owe you thanks for past services rendered, and you 1ave certainly saved us, and this vessel, from the power of a bad man," said Noel Valverde, frankly. ** Ay, a bad man indeed; one whose heart is utterly black, but who shall feel my just yen- geance, for he Jies on my deck,a prisoner; but, sir, may I intrust to the care of these ladies my —I shane to confess it, for her sake, yet must— my sister, whom the chief of yonder vessel last night decoyed from her home, to bring dishonor upon her, even worse than having me, a pirate, for her brother?’ “Your sister? Yes, pladly will I care for her, monsieur,” and Manine Valverde ap- proached timidly, just as Mabel De Lisle opened her eyes, and glancing up with a startled look, cried earnestly: “Victor, my brother, I am saved, saved from worse than death! and by you, my noble brother.” : He drew her toward him, with an emotion he could not hide, in spite of his iron will, and not one present was there but was touched by that meeting between the pure, beautiful sister and her erring, outlawed brother. ** Sail ho!” The cry came from the schooner’s deck, and in Alvarez Navarro’s voice. ** Whereaway, Alvarez?” cried the Chevalier, springing to the ship’s side. : ‘*Our sails hide her from your view, sefior chief; it is the brigantine-of-war Huntress, and about a league away.” ‘Ay, ay, Alvarez; put the prisoners in irons, to await the coming of the brigantine, but take Conrado Costello on board the schooner, and have all ready to cast off,” was the Chevalier’s order, and with trembling lips Mabel turned toward him: A ‘Oh, brother, will you harm him?” **Mabel, he is guilty of more crimes than have ever fallen to the lot of one man, and he must suffer the penalty.” : : “But leave him to the brigantine’s com- mander, Victor.” ‘*No, Mabel, for the commander of yonder vessel is Harold Sylvester, and should he find me here his duly would force him to attack me, and not a gun would I turn against him; he will see you in safety to your home, and one of these days you may welcome me back to the dear old spot, for from this day I raise the stars and stripes at the schooner’s pene. and will no longer cruise the seas in dishonor, but inst the enemies of my native land.” “Well said, sir, and our best wishes attend you,” said Noel Valverde, frankly. ‘* Ay, Setior Chevalier, let the brightness of thy future illumine the gloom of thy past,” and eo the Hunchback grasped the d of the chie ‘“The Huntress is coming swiftly down u us, sefior,” came the eating voice of ‘Aeros Navarro, “‘ Ay, ay, sefior; Mabel, my sister, farewell,” and folding her in his arms an instant, he re- leased her, and doffing his cap, sprung over the side into his boat. A few moments more he was upon the deck of his schooner, which swung free from the sped away ibe tae before caravel, and the wind, the eyes of those en board the ship anxieusty watching hie fight, for Huntress was not a mile away. And as they looked they saw two forma, with hands bound ind them, led upon the quar- ter-deck, and facing them stood a file of mea with muskets, and all knew that twe men were Ch, Heave ha meroy him! for *Oh, Heaven have upon one se So sahery rag omay s Ape: i ascina’ y the sight, she stood gazing upon the deck of the fiying schooner, ‘‘And the other is Manuel Hernandes, m kinsman, and they richly deserve their fate, said Don Ivan, sternly. And then the rays of the setting sun flashed on the bright sword held in the hand of ths Chevalier Corsair, a roar of musketry followed, and the two doomed men sunk down a the schooner’s deck, while up to the peak the stars and stripes, and from her sides burst forth a salute of thirteen in honor of the new career the beautiful little vessel had entered upon. CHAPTER XLY. CONCLUSION. At the close of the war of “1818,” and a month after the declaration of peace between the United States and Great Britain, an armed schooner, flying the “stars and stripes,” sailed up Boston bor, and dropped anohor within hailing distance of the Trysting Tree near the cemetery, wherein lay buried Marian Dalton. A boat put off from the schooner’s side, and as it struck the shore, aman sprung out upon the beach; a man with darkly-bronzed face, sternly-set mouth, and sad, dreamy eyes. He was one to attract attention in any gather- ing, for he had few rs in manly beauty of face and form, and his naval uniform was most Bn ny With dignified tread he ascended the hill, and in crossing the graveyard, paused and glanced down upon the grave of Marian Dalton with an expression it was hard to read. moment he stood thus, and then with a sigh moved slowly on, turning into a street, and at =e a a ae the handsome home of Com- modore Harold Sylvester. Upon the piazza sat a young and beautiful woman, and by her side stood a Jittle child of two years, who had just thrown a ball of worsted down the broad steps. **Oh, you naughty Victor! Mamma must have her worsted,” said the lady, and the little child was starting to get it, when the stranger in uniform bent, picked it up, and ascended the steps, and his eyes and the young mother's met, Ob, Victor! my brother!” ae Mabel [? For some time neither spoke more, and then Mabel said: “ Victor, how proud of you we all are, in spite of that bitter past, and the commodore, Harold you know, has gotten for you a pardon, for the President willingly gave it, after your gallant sea-service; but my husband will tell you all about it, for itis time for him to return from the Navy Yard.” “T promised you, Mabel, that I would sink the name of the Chevalier Corsair in one of honor, and I have done so; and more, not only you and Harold have forgiven me the past, but also Manine Valverde, whom you remember.” “Remember! why how could any one ever forget that beautiful git, Victor; but tell me, have you seen her late ‘wa “When last in New Orleans, after the great battle of January eighth! I was wounded, as I wrote you, and her brother carried me to his home, and a more devoted nurse sufferer never had than Manine, while Edna, now Mrs. Val- verde, was also most attentive.’ “They were noble people brother; but teil me, what becameof that West Indian beauty, Stella Enderos and her terrible father?” “* He was killed in the battle, fighting bravely, and his daughter married Alvarez Navarro, her cousin, and who was iy lieutenant, and f Janded his at Charleston, to return to New Or- leans by e-eoach, for he dearly loves his beautiful wife.” ; * And have you not a secret to tell of your- self, brother mine?” asked Mrs. ‘Sylvester, archly. “Yes, for I am to marry Manine V;: for I love hereven more than I did poor \, who sleeps in the churchyard ond the hill, and Victor De Lisle bent his head over the sunny curls of his little namesake, for the memories. of the past would crowd —_ him with painful vividness; and, in spite of the oe that came to him in after years, with ovely wife, Manine, he could not al 8 drive him the grim specters that w come trooping up from the grave of the buried by- gone, to w in his ear the words: * With all honors now, Victor De once thou wert as t the Pow, neer,” POR oe ew ery et eh PSY nee
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ood Dilek, the Prin of the Road. By E.L. Wheeler, Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. By Charles Morris. 294 Dynamite Dan. By T. C. Harhangh. nue ekg ig Be Rig po ee, ote ) i amare ene sd Get by J J. pag rae Bg | 295 Fearless Phil, By Edward Willett, rer re. y Cuptale Pp Reid and ° Pen tan Deeee shy 5% in Frederick Whittaker, 296 Denver Doll's Drift, By Edward L. Wheels iy Frederick “J lee er ; it Panther age the Priine Pirate, 4 Jos, E, Badger, Jr. 297 The Tarantala of Taos, By Bockskin Sam. is nr ig the Young Wandering Jew. By Ol] Coomes, | 152 Black Bens, Will Wildtire’s Racer. By Charles Morris, 298 The Water-li A, ir Charles Martin: ber, Jo cape 168 Eagle Kit, the Foy Demon. By Ol Coomes. paths cel ete res 5 4 FA rot, She - Achat be eggs s. rien se 164 The Sword Munters. By os be Frater horace 299 A No. 1, the Dashing ToH-Taker, By Edward L. Wee aukoe. y Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. rold igger, tle Sport. Cc. 4 . : L Semen or, Cie Captivos of the Frontier, By EB. 8, Ellis. ize Desdwacd Dick of Desiwock, By EL. Wheeler. 860 ‘The Bky Demon: i Bony apgee res of Baron Muuchaucen. 15% Bike Merry, the Harber Potios Hoy. By Charies Morris. 861 Leadville Nick, By Major BE. L. St. Vrakie monte — “By Albert pe ree By E, S. Ellis, 158 Fane ‘F rank of © Jolorado. By B baflalo Bit a ah 842 The Mountain Deteetive. By T. C. Harbexga, at Travels. A Voyage to Liliput, and a Voyage to | 160 abe Bincl & sega yiacge E. Bedeer, sT itaker $08 ’Liza Jane, the Girl Miner, By E, L, Wheeler, xang. By Dean Swit 161 New York Nell. By oF ard L. Whe ler, : 804 The Dead Shot Dandy. By Colonel Prentiss nu Spy. By Oll Coomes. 163 Will Wildfire in the Woods, By Charles Morris. 805 Dashaway, of Dakata. By Charles Morris, oW onder ful Lamp. 168 Little Texas, the Young Muptonger, By Oll Coomes, i 4 . .. By Cnptain Frederick Whittaker. 164 Dand Toak’s Pledge. By George Walso Browne, $06 Neck-Tie Ned. By Major H. B. Stoddard. nilron me Crusoe. (7; Iilustrationa) By Delos. 165 Billy Me, the Boy. By Charles Morris, SOT The Strange Pard. By Buckskin Sam. jh Koy, the Koy Buccaneer. Br Rott Prentiss Ingraham, 66 ee re. :. p! : d the Sailor. From the Arablan Nights, > Li é = } Prince of the Praiciea,- By Ol Oobines, Bob Reeket the Bauk Runner, By Charles Morris. 817 Pencoek Pete. By Lieutenant Alfred Thorne. 3 ob Woolf, she Border Ruffian. By Edward L. Wheeler. 1v4 17 176 8 177 178 ike The Sea T By Li t H, D. PB U.S.Ny The Sea Tratler. By Lieutenan erry, } $18 Ker-whoap, Ker-whoo! By Buckskin Sam. , 181 Wild Frank of Montana. By Edward L. W heeler. y id Ore agen cals, Dyes rg 2 ‘gh nf phe 182 Atle Waurrleane, the Boy Captain, ] By Ol! Coomesa, $19 The Black Rider, By Joreph E. Badger, Jn on Se y Captain ArT a4 The Hidden Mana, By vee peters ; 820 The Sea Sorceress, By Jack Farragut he Bo ‘rallers. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 185 Evil E Eye, King of the Cnatle Thic eves. By Frank Dumont, $21 Deadweod Dick’s Dozen, By Edward L, Wheeler 6 a a mm 4 Ney ea — tert ate 822 Nemo, the Detective. By Edward Willett, ¢ Fre ard, the Life Boat Boy y Charles Morris. ¢ . b 0 ao Pace, os Davai se M Peat L. Wheeler, 188 Ned TF eiente, the Border Boy. By T. ©, Harhangh. 828 Arkansaw Jack, By Harry Hasard. ae : Abn n ede, th Rohe Bee ci ny Gif Csontec. 199 Hos Reckets, ws c we reson a. Charles Morris, $24 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. By Une Morrhte M > Dan arke. By William yster. 825 Kelley, Hicke oy Company, the Sleuths of Philadel ; tom err, ha ead L x erent Whittak 191 Ruttalo Buy, the Boy Bnllwhacker. By Capt. A. B. Taylor, ‘i By Ex rere in Wheeler. pany, ™ Mee Rube. Py? let be pe rebsolt Ba gs er. | 192 Captain Kit, the Wi }-0’-the-Wi F By Lieut. Perry. niliy Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. By E. L, Wheeler. ae Ring J nm, By Frank 8. Finn, i Ledge. By T. C. Harbaugh, Hin the Rey Scout. By Texas Jack. 8 S Ss S a ® By Harry St. George. i 198 The Ladv Rond- Agent. By A. Witte. 826 The Ten Pards; ot, The Terror of Take-Notice. By T.€ - anche, th Great Annihilator. Me a ie Wheeler. 194 Buffalo Bilks Bet. By Captain Taylor. Harbaugh. ret 46 Glace Eye, the Great Shot of the West, By J. » Adama, 195 Deadwood Dick’s Drenm. By Edward L, Wheeler. S27 Cree : % ping Cat, the Cadd By Buckakin Sam. Pethttneic Natt or, tha For Canon. fara 196 Shadowed. By Charles Moris, 828 The Sky Detcetives, By Major Mickey Free. aad Tigh Wakes Pact. Es Blend L. Woealen aay Little Grit, the Wild Rider. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. : ‘ : bef Pits. Beige ret at cee iy “or stent oS Arkansaw, the Man with the Knife. By T. C. Hrbasigh: 829 Red-Skin Tom. By Marry Hazard. t Bumke , the Trapper. By C. E. Lasalle. +4 Featherweight. By Edward Willett. gre Lt : ; . B . « . 50 Little Quick-Shot. By Edward L. Wheeler. Witte But To, By CE Tanatlen SY 1 | 200 The Boy Bedoulns. By Capt Frederick Whittaker. Sek sheets Mays toe Peace Risch: By tag peak Pde > ago eed “gar sa 201 The Black Hills Jezebel. By Edward L. Wheeler. Ck Nigey be der, Dy Capt, Fred. Whiteacua pe Piadese, fu the Boy Phenix. ' By E..L. Wheeler. 208 Bronpes ect Pete, of tne Boy Brigade,’ By Oli Coomes. 882 Frio Fred. By Buckskjn-Sam. 20 eke, e Boy Trapper. By Capt. J. F. C. Adama. Sarde - By sceph Sco . By Joseph KE. Badger, Jr. eaaly Tare, the Unknow Scout 2g crhieng 204 Gold ie umes the Boy Ban it iy C 1a Brentiee Tugraba 888 Pe Rie Ek. r. he Lightning Morse Gaal walwbed Dick's E Engler. By Edward L. Wheeler. 06 6 Dark Paul, es T Stes King, By hea BN hia pr 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner, By E. 1 Wheel Border King; or, The Secret Foe. By Ol] Coomes. poral ve K y, c ba ed pl EEty Be Colonel Prenties Beiinan. 210 Faro Frank of High Pine. By William R. Kyster. $87 Ben Bird, the Cave King. By W. J. Hamilton, Z11 Crooked Cale. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. “if eg Brothorketd. a 4. Hantiiton, 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. By Charles Marri, —_ Seb icet of 9, esa . Ser ican” Be done holdin, J, 815 Frite to the Front, By Edward L. Whenler. 889 Kangaroo Kit's Racket. By Edward L. Wheeler, "t @ Maud oF, A Life fern Life. By’ W. J. Hamilton, aie, ps — We Gruten, the Tea by ord Bett He tama 840 CHp, the Contortlonist. By Edward Willett a a 1@ Knider nh v arbi . » ul atent-Leathor Joo. By ore “Warne, 26 aes Bll, the Prince of the Reins: Ry Cal B. P. Togral $41 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. By € cai Tie Micrtehottae, By EA i L. Wheel paiengh Shot, By Edward 1, Wheeler. 842 The Mountain Devil. By Harry Hazard. ta 2 vat = Cabin. Gy Cepeda dc ®.C. Adame kc : pakke Bo Pahee Wie. 848 Manhattan Mike. By Edward L, Wheeler, ware Bick we Young Ranger Spy. By Ol] Coomes, 220 Tom T i rn By Chas, Morrie, | S44 The Fighting Trio, By Buckskin Sam, on th Ra * ilton. om anner, Seadlawng and Scapegrace, : Es fom Wester ne ry alg ll 4 fy Sect nena ton. | 91 Fugar-C oated Sam. By Edward Ls Wheeler, 845 Pittless Matt. By T. C. Hartiaugh, 222 Grit, the Bravo Bport. By Col Prentiss Ingraham. » Mai Te Ramer alc an Barna Rae 228 Oxark Alf, King of the Mountain, By Edward Willett. 846 Rapier Raphacl. By Major H. D. Stoddard, 224 Dashing Dick, Ry Ol} Comes. 847 Deadwood Dick's Ducats. By Edward L. Wheeler, Colt, the Crow-Killer. By Albert W. Allen, > wee Pduroy Ohirlfe, the Hoy Bravo. By E. L, Wheeler, Soe pte Charcoal, tie Premium Darky.» By Charles Moris, | $48 Fire-Heela; or, OM Skinflnt the Denth-Shadomy . By Captain Mayne Reid. toger Starbuck, r, the oe Trappse, By mars W, Alken, b> Pay Wiel aia art Fo odes “haan 849 Wild Wolf, the Waco. By Buckskin Sam, @, By Cxptain J. F, C. Adame, 229 Crimson Kate. By Colone! Prentiss Ingraham. 850 Red Ralph, the River Rover. By Nod Buntiiea,— 280 The Yankee Rajah, By C. Donning Clark. am Soke Meg HA? G. Hadhasgh. 281 Plucky Phil. of the Mouninin Troil. ‘ T.-C, Harbaugh. 851 Deadwood Dick Sentenced. By Edwa-i L. Whe, vl finery By Edvsrd L. Wheeler, aes ¢ Gold-Dust Dick. By Edward L. Wheeler. 852 Tombstone Tom, By Maj. E. L, St, Vrain. feeb Hackrams yore c xama” || 8 dee Hesek of Aue, hy a Wa, 855 The Meporter-Detective: By Cte Hora the Man from Texas. aldo Brown. ° , ; : em ote ae B86 Apeilgnit™oy‘enwartie Wikuier’ A MOM | BES tr Iing af the Weodat wy, Del Boo Lan a paste ie ehietol tect Haren 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain, By @el. Ingraham, By Joseph FE. Bader, Jr. . e : . at ie q 288 The Parson Detective. By Ol] Coomes. read Rider. Sooner erts is 288 The Gold-seeker Guide, By Cuptain Mayne Retd. Bee eee CORE CRL RES, SF mere Dhet, eranterh ite My ief, By E. L. Wheeler, gine Kit. By Edward |. Wheeler, S57 The Ranch Raiders, By Bockekin Sam. : ward, Ellis, 1 Bravo and Hite Bear Pards. 87 T. C. Harbaugh. | $58 Firxt-Olaas Fred, the Gent from Gopher, By%. I, Wheelee 248 T e Disguised Guide. By Ol] Coomes, ‘ $59 Durango Dave, the Young Wrestler Champion. By Maj. E, 244 Bi am, Boenwae L. Wheeler. L. St. Vrain. Ag Watch | Merle, the Middy. "ity Colonel Prentiss Ingraham 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. By J.C. Comdrlek. eorge. uc ne ee tn By Geo-go andere Rar ¢ d Grivel Dead Ilia Pets. By Capt.“ Brain” Adams, . | 861 The Phantom Lighthouse. By Roger Starbuck. | Peadwood Dick in Leadville. By E. L. Wheeler. 248 Slerra Sam's Seeret. By Ectvard L. Wheeler. 862 Deadwood Dick's Claim, By Edward L, Wheeler, 249 Mito Romer, the Animal King. By Capt. Fred. Wotuakes, a Bick my ed yee s Satie Hemyng. | 950 es S Uldahinemon Sutinesr. By Cu, Stns italiane 868 Little Tornado, By Philip 8, Warne. Lion of the Scn. By Colonel Delle Sara, 7 251 Deke ba ae Lige. By Captain J. F.C, Adama, 864 Snap-Shot, the Boy | r. By Buckskin Sam, Bonaweed ick’s Device. By Edward L. Wheeler. aw a Charles Morris. 865 Baltimore Ben. By A. P. Morris. a ae ne Bacay oo fog et’, wee ho £66 Velvet oot, thendlom Detective, By 7-€.Mthage dne- Ey: a Bim, Pag Janae L. Bowen n. * 255 Engtain Apoltr. y T. C. Harbaugh, 86% Wide-Awake Joe. By Charles Morris. i: z Days e Zona Boar-Killer. By 1.9 George. 256 o peees Kontak a Ac: = Pm eke tee os 868 Yreka Jim, the Gold-Gatherer. By E. L. Wheelea. | B <a Rona of te Pesiries 5 on Cee. 58 Sierra Saim’s Seven. By dward L. Wheeler, 869 Shasta, the Gold King. By J, C. Cowdrick. i Sen-Hevil. Ky Cotonel Prentiss Ingrakazn, ane The melee Harp oO ‘By Koger § Starvuck, 870 Breaker Ben, the ReefRunner. By Roger Starbuck Hamter. By Burton Saxe 260 Pare-Devil Dan. By Ol! Coomes. sit Kingbolt Chet the Yo Hard-Shell Detectty ovle the Young Speculator. ee K, L. Wheeler. ba Pee hae oy By Chae. A ; By Majo E TLet tain ve he Black pehoon By Sasstive y side Browne. tek’s Divide, By Edward L, Wheeler, 872 Y Sead stars Prise. By Edward L. Wheeler. © Husear Mn ee ms artes Ingraham. on dein tagg ates B ge aL eee ‘ 878 Little Jinge ; or, the Queer Pard. » By Philip 8 Wer; i Peseess the ‘nae'Dy alten ‘By pono Morris. 266 b's ia naign Warren, 874 Gold-Dust Tom. By George H. Morse. join t of, The King of the Plains. By J. E. Badger b 3 a bir Bs Ls Wheslon _ | 8T5 Chicta, the Oreek, By Buckskin Sam, . rane, gata on By Rie The Gold hiv. a Col. Prentin Ingraham. 826 California Joe's First Trafl, By Capt. ¥. Whittuas twin Mark = 877 Bonodel, the Boy Rover. By Col. Prentice Ingrihag ia 2 Ca | He Min ste ti nag er litaeatr 3 878 Nabob Ned. Dy Edward L. Wheeler, ~ By Edward L. Wheeler. y 879 Larry, the Leveler. By Charles Morrie, 4 ase Sim.” By Charlon Moria : 860 Avalanche Alf, By Major E. L. St. Vrain, i ck, By Buckskin Sam. 4 + By Majo ‘By HL "Par Demet f are Merle M amici ov cf sear: By pelea Prentiss Ingraham. $91; Bandera Billy or, Frio Frank to the Front. By Bodat le. By Edward L. Wheeler, menter oll. Edward Ls Wheeler. Sam. ales Morris, Sioar Bere Sr, ote ae Nac ” Sogo BAZ Cool Kit, the King of Kids. By Haward L. Whestee, PF Oe iwerd 8 Rhee Merle M By Col, Prentice Ingraham. 888 The Indian PHlot. By Col, Prentice Ingraham, — f the Boothncks, By ban Wheeler. Doll’ letor By ra Wl Wheeler. 884 Whip-K ing Joe, the Boy Ranchero, By Oll Coomee "By Bdgrard Wiliett 885 Yreka Jim’s Joker. By Edward L, Wheeler. 2 B Lewis he Ren} arama : "Golonel Prentia rahamn, BSG Captain Cutiaas, the Otenn Spider. By 1. C. Harmy — @ doch ih Dow Ter a Zen ey bape! ‘wikes. 88T Warpath Wil, the Boy Phantom, By Oot, Fadi: Bes yen By ye Pren Ues Lograbatm 888 Little Gh-my, By Phillp 8. Warne By C: i ¥. 0, Ad 300 tir calv, KS Job. BY Chiriow Mora” — y A New fy ies ithe Foxtire, By Ol! Coomes. Wi? The Ralf-Dime Lib se vee Son Turks the Ferret By Edward L. Wheeler. » ‘ tanta por copy, oF sent by sna! J BaP nthe 9B seh ores vy dou mage 292 Sancho Pt Major EL. St. Vralis BEADLE AN®@ ADAMS, Publishers, 3%, rina e 998 Red ae the ‘iactedl Trapper. By Captain porate % w wintese Site: % New = te ‘ Wwe,
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THE DIME SPEAKERS. ~ — . — ~ Dime American America, hday of Washington, j for the Maine Law, Not on the Battlefield, e Italian Struggle, ependence, ‘ountry, Equality of Man, aracter of the Revo’n, The Fruits of the War, The Sewing-Machine, ‘True Manhood, Ear Revirin Tru e .e) y tle, athe Glass Railroad Case of Mr. Macbetl, . on Phrenolo dumatelies ees Name, The r Boy’s Syren, Speaker, No. 1, J. Jeboom's Oration, A Dutch Cure, The Weather, The Heated Term, Philosophy = amu An Old Ballad, Penny Wise, Pound Fool- | True Cleanliness, {ish, Sat'd’y Night’s Enjoy’ts, *Tn a Just Cause,” No Peace with Oppres- sion, A Tale of a Mouse, A Thanksgiving Sermon, The Cost of Riches, Great Lives Imperishable The Prophecy forthe Y’r Unfinished Problems, Rights, Right of the Governed, 8 Ladder, oman, Alone, The Rebellion of 1861, Disunion, Dime National Speaker, No. 2. Union and its Results, rite Country’s Future, ‘he Statesman’s Labors, True Immortality, Eet the Childless Sy of Christianity, Need, Ship and the Bird, ecumseh’'s Speech, { erritorial Expansion, ha Hopkins, Bash } he ife, ' Creowning Glory ae, Fosls, as on, Sur Great Inheritance, ogy on Henry Clay, of U. S., Ohio, Oliver Hazard Perry, Our Domain, Systems of Belief, ‘The Indian Chief, The Independent Farmer Mrs. Grammar’s Ball, How the Money Comes, Future of the Fashions, Loyalty to Liberty, Our Country and Abvays, Influence, Defense of Jefferson, National Hatreds, Murder Will Out, | Strive for the Best, | Barly Rising, 7 of dness, ‘St Slee, ” AY SS le, Purity of the Straggl 1 of the e, Old Aa a: Beautiful and True. The Worm of the Still, Man and the ite, Language of the Eagle, Washington, The Deluge. _ Dimé.Patriotic Speaker, No. 3. ve of Country, ht of Bell Fear foreor the World, Our Cause. on, jian's Fo gg hristy’s Let Me Alone, Brigand-ier-General, Phe Draft, ae ou Square Speeches, rhe Hee Union, : 4mur Coun ’s Call, ine Stor. ee er Oak Tree, e On ; Leg, History of Our Fl, =. Ds Weastier’s ‘Ativeds: We Owe to the Union, Lincoln's M €. Last Speech o Stephen A. Douglas, Great Bell Roland, — - The New Year and the See Cotton, [Union, Rattle Anthem, The Ends of Peace, Freedom the Watchword Crisis of Our Nation, ng Mae ey ore hee ‘ opping Corn, eep Story, The Editor, A Little Correspondent, The Same, in rhyme, One Good Turn Deservet The Fairy Shoemaker, My Dream, [Another, What Was Learned, i Press On, The Horse, The Snake in the Grass, Tale of the Tropics, Bromley’s Speech, The Same, second extract | Angelina’s Lament, The Fisher’s Child, Jobnny Shrimps on Boot? Shaks Scho lar, ‘ A Maiden’s Psalm of Life, Chome of Hours, A Mixture, | Poor Richard’s Sayings, Plea for Skates, | Who Killed Tom Roper, ow 1 Ball, ; Nothing to Do Ah, Why, Policy, } | Honesty Best Live for Something. Heaven, Lay of the Hen-Pecked, | Ho for the Fields, The Outside Do; Fashion on the Brain, ; oa Wolf and Lamb, Lion in tape gi Frogs Asking for a King, Sick Lion, _ Ok es Country and Town fice, Man and Woman, Home, The Lotus-Planter, Little Things, - A Baby’s Soliloquy, Repentance. A Plea for Night ates Green t er istmas, hort Legs, alt, i A Hundred Years eae eter oe he ttle Sermons, [Razor Snufiles on Electricity, , The Two Cradles, ' The Ocea 1 Storm, ' Do Thy Little—Do it WA Little Puss, Base- [Fever Prescription for “Spring Dime Spread-Eagle Speaker, No. 16. n Buster's Oration, Drum-head Sermons, s Von Spiegel’s 4th, | Schnitzerl’s, Philoso: Josh Billings’s Advice,’ | “ Woman's Rights,’ A Hard-shell Sermon, ther, . The Boots, The Squeezer, Noah and the Devil, A Lover's ve Hifalutin Adol Digestion and Paracliae. Distinction’s Disadvant- Smith, - fages, _Gushalina Bendibus, Speakin ft ar the Sb riff g for the Sheriff, Daking a Shweat, Then and Now. Josh Billings's Lectux*ng, Doctor De Blister’s Ann't, © Consignmen Hard Lives, Tne Nigkn yen {0 Trovatore, 4 bes, Se the Strees 4 ag Debater and Chairman’s Guide No. 11 _ Assem ' ne i of Business and 1— Trina Socrpry, Formation of, Constitution of, By-Laws of, Rules of Government, Rules of Order, Rules of Deba*e, Subjects of Discussion. _ Wing there dae tots cel Sie y there are few Debat - to Oratori-_ e rder | The Logic of Debate, The Rhetoric of Debate, | Maxims to Observe, e Preliminary Pre Order of Argument, i . a
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. 7a arene ne ap ayy OE ere eM Teal ae ~~ ye ‘ PE rr eee, Nee ee eee, ae ee ee rote Nite i te cee). . ¥ et ne ed AP gy 5 a a ; EADLE'S*] )IME*]IBRARY, Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers. BUFFALO BILL NOVELS, BY CAPTAIN HOWARD HOLMES, aan t ALBERT W,. AIK EN'S NOVELS. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, Gentlemen George, the Showman Sport. } Dick Talbot Series 994 Buffalo Bill's Lone Hand, 912 Genteel Joe’s Lone Hand. ese ata we ro ena ne oat Peay 06 Kent keen the Cook Crusher | ony Rook as pies oe a sir MUN eRe alo *s Life Raffle. wt icc oa >, 7 ca ; va ; ; : )279 Buffalo Bill’s Relentless Trail. ENG eg we BARS Se ) Te ee big 4 Buffalo Biul's Invinctbles, ae. | stiematumur | BY Dick Talbot in Apache lend. 8 56 Buffalo Bill’s Volunteer Vigilantes. 7) ae ahi LF gyre him abba Hs: ed perenne any Og 950 Buffalo Bill at Bay, Gio Kaen Bullion Boon ve the ee | 285 Dick Ta)bot in No Men's Cam Buffalo Bill's Block Game. 9 3 US ea GA tans Pe he ba ) 3 P ; 831 Shadowing the London Detective. | 854 Dick Talbot; 01, The Brand of Crimson Orosr Buffalo Bill's Black Para, ” h Vatv 2 of § 927 Buffalo Bill’s Bluff; or, Dusky Dick the Snort. pid Ang Sh Keg Dace BE oc Gi gai , $21 Buffalo Bill's Quandary: or, Velvet Bill’s Vow. | 729 phe Nicht-Hawk Detective, 36 Dick Talbot; or, The Death-Stot of Shasta. Alken's Fresh of Frisco Series. 5 Buffalo Billand the Surgeon-Scout. : F 779 Silk Ribbon'’s Crush-out. 825 Fresh, the Race-Track Sport. Sr aoe Teague; or, Red Butterfly. 766 Detective Zach, the Broadway Spotter. | 660 The Fresh in Montaua; or, Blake's Full Hand. uffalo Bill's Tangled Trail. 751 The Dark Lantern Detective | 652 Tne Fresh’s Rustie at Painted City { Buffalo Bill's Beret oe 736 The Never-Fail Detective. 647 The Fresh at Santa ,Fe; or, The Stranger Sharp, 200 Buffalo Bill's. Lite Stak J: 724 Captain Hercules, the Strong Arm Detective, | 566 Fresh, the Sport: or, The Big Racket at Slide 882 The Three Bills: Buffalo Rill, Wild Bill and Band- | “11 Dan Damon, the Gilt Edge Detective. Oy cone Agcainin Ste) 2180 5 Or TIRES Se Bale ore Boz Bill or, The Bravo in Broadeloth, ot Gideon Grip, the. Secret Shadower, 461 The Fresh of risco'‘on the Rio Grande. 889 Buffalo Bill's Road-Agent Roun d-up, ps me voy the Mystery Shadower. | 97 The Fresh in Big Walnut Camp; or. Bronze Jack . /968 Buffalo Bill's Death Charm, eee Aiken’s Joe Phenix Series, a57 Gs ‘an : 871 Jason Clew, the Silk-Manded Ferret. ass red he pe Bill's Pos al Flush. 664 Monk Morel, the Man-Hunter. 965 Joe Phenix's Mascot. 3 pumas Bits Doobie gpa 654 Sol Sphinx, the Ferret Detective, 959 Joe Phenix’s Double Deal, ri Bonen oe E pe ye use, 612 Red Pard and Yellow. 954 Joe Phenix in Chicago. % ai Ss POs m blue. 608 Silent Sara, the Shadow Sphinx, | 949 The Doctor from ‘exas; or, Joe Phenix’s Clue 826 Buffalo Bill's Sharp-Shooters, 592 Captain Sid, the Shasta Ferret. | $44 Joe Phenix’s Rigui Bower. 822 Buffalo Bill’s Best Bower. 579 Old Cormorant. the Bowery Shadow. 865 The Female Barber Detective; or, Joe Phenix in 816 Buffalo Bi 's Red Trail. 569 Captain Cobra, the Hooded Mystery Silver City. ; 812 Buffalo Bill’s Death-Knell. 559 Danton, the Shadow Sharp. . 799 Joe Pheoix’s Great Blue Diamond Case; or, The, 794 Buffaio Bili’s Winnimg Hand 550 Silk Hand. the Mohave Ferret New York Sport at Long Branch. bo pas Bit's Dead Shot, 543 The Magnate Detective: ' 793 Joe Phenix’s Decoy; or, The Man of Three, bewi Buffalo cae egy pYeUe 532 Jack Javert. the Independent Detective. 760 Joe Phenix’s Lone Hand. 769 Buffalo Bill's rtd ; — 523 Reynard of Red Jack: or, The Lost Detective | 749 Joe Phoenix's Big Bulge. uffal y eeps AKC. 512 Captain Velvet’'s Big Stake. 745 Joe Phenix’s Mad Case. \ " oe —_ Pe Ws Dozen; or, Silk Ribbon Sam. 505 Phil Fox, the Genteel Spotter. 708 Jos Phenix’s Siren; or, The Woman Hawkshaw SE apg on ll tena 9 496 Richard Redfire, the Two Worlds’ Detective, 700 Joe Phenix's Unknown; or, Crushing the Crooke ‘ ie Bees A 487 Stinshine Sam, a Chip of the Old Block. 681 Joe Phenix s Specials or, The Actress Detective aoe ae axe Rig ag or, Custer’s Shadow. 480 Hawkspear. the Man with a Secret. 637 Joe Phenix in Crazy J mp. 739 Buffalo ee heed snag 2A Masked Dri 468 Coldgrip in Deadwood. 632 Joc Phenix's Master Search. ; 735 Buffalo Bill and His Merry Men ver | 460 Captain Colderip, the Detective Sas een /781 Buffalo Bill’s Beagles: or, Silk Lasso Sam, yr MS Tipeea ela te de | Tradl. 601 Joe Phenix’s Shadow; or,the Detective’s Monitoy 72 Buffalo Bill's Bodv Guard. 441 The California Sharpe 419 Joe Phenix,, the King of Detectives. te A i eat 44 Lucifer Eva, the Wonder Detective Pgh ines ene MOET : 21 Father Ferret, i ; 3 OF, '710 Buffalo Bill Bafiled: or. The Deserter Desperado, | 471 Canna Golacee is Now. Fin ae 79 Joe Phenix, the Police Spy. 697 Buffalo Lill’s Buckskin Brotherhood. 407 Captain Coldgrip’s Nerve; or. Injun Nick, 4691 3uffalo Bill’s Blind Trail; or, Mustang Mad : ‘ - x ‘ 400 Captain Coldgrip; or. The New York Spotter, Buffalo Bill's Swoop;or, The King of the mines. 892 The Lost Bonanza: or, The Boot of Silent: Hound. 568 The Cowbov Clan; or, The Tigress of Texas, ‘3 653 Lasso King’s League; or, Bue Taylor in Texas. 382 The Bonanza Band; or, Dread Don of Cool Clan, Baifaio Bill's Chief of Cowboys; or, Buck Taylor rit. Pen eetes the teooe alent aie Alken’s Miscellaneous Novels, 980 The All-Around Athlete. y 949 Captain Jack, the Scalper 935 The Hawks and Wolves of New York 922 Detective Gordon’s Grip. \644 Buffalo Bill’s Bonanza; or, Si'ver Circle Knights, | 9, 926 Old Sunflower, the Silent Smite Te | "dt Cyn: 852 The Desperate Dozen. Old Suntower, the Silent proiter. ‘fog peas ae Salven or The pete aes 247 Denver Duke, the Man with “Sand.” | 923 °Old Sunflower. he = en fp: He feo ge | ; «| ; - > Warct. - , 340 Cool Conrad. the Dakota Detective. 901 The Hotel Swell-Sharp; or, The Siren Shade@r r Wild Bill‘s Gold Trail; or, The Desperate Dozen, 892 The t Detectiv 2% Wild Bill’s Trump Card: or, The indian Heiress, | 93> Flash Dan. the Nabob. or. Blades of Bowie Bar, Bilton Bpott:-or The. ; . 204 Broadeloti Burt. the Denver Dandy, ba Tee ging bin Scheer as Sass Era eae Bill, 0 Shadow Sport from Pesos, 814 The New Yorker Among Texas Sports. 40 ‘Texas Jack, the Lasso King pee thy huduemenniarang oe a aitiscs 183 Giigon's Grip a¢ Babylon Par. The.Ranch King Dead-Shot. 948 The Red-Gloved Detective. a7 Captain Pat TreGowen the Greencoat Detestive. White Beaver ’s Still Hunt. 981 Frisco Frank at Glory Gulch. 674 Uncle Sun Up, the Born Detective. \ {7 Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist. 920 The Montana Miner in New York. 670 The Lightw eight Detective ‘ } Wild Bilt, the Deaa-Center Stot. 908 The Doomsday-Den Detective. 665 The Frisco Detective; or, The Golden Gste Find,, . 1639 Buffalo Bill’s Gold King. 899 Ine Double-Quick Detective, 613 Keen Billy, the Sport. t 99 The Dead Shot Nine; or, My Pards of the Plains, | 893 Yellow Gid, of Dark Divide. 607 Oid Benzine, the * Hard Case” Detective, 4 Red) Renard, the Indian Detective, 885 'l'he Expert Detective’s Shake-up. 504 Fire Face, the Silver King’s Foe. One-Armed Para; or, Borderland Retribution. | 875 Trapping the Race-Track Judge, 59% The Silver Sharp Detective. 897 The Wizard Brothers: or, White Beaver’s Trail, | 864 The Police Special’s Dilemma. 577 Tom, of Calif ernia; or, Detective’s Shadow Act. [894 White Beaver, the Exile of the Platte. 849 The Genteel Sharper’s Combine 570 The Actress Detective; or, The Invisible Hand! 9 Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. 841 Graydon’s Double Deal. | 562 Lone Hand, the Shadow. ” Texas Jack, the Prairie Rattler, 838 The Sport Detective’s Grip, 520 The Lone ‘Hand on the Caddo, (43 The Pilgrim Sharp; or, The Soldier’s Sweetheart, | 823 The Athlete Sport About Town, 490 The Lone Hand in Texas. : 88 Gold Bullet Svort; or, Knights of the Overland, | 808 ‘TheCrook-Detective’s Pull. 475 Chin Chin, the Chinese Detective, | 52 Death-Tralier, the Chiet of Scouts. COD Satna eche ie Eace 2 acm Deen eaeh 465 The Actor Detective. 782 Royal Rock, the Round-up Detective, 440 The High Hor-e of the Pacific, By Leon Lewis, Ned Buntline, ete, | 774 Steve Starr, the Dock Detective. 423 The Lone Hand; or, The Red River Recreants, : 764 The New York Sharp’s Shadower. Buffalo Bill’s Ban; or, Cody to the Rescue. iva G 408 Doe Grip, the Vendetta of Death. 682 Buffalo Bill's Secret Service Trail. Te etn er Canesten feos Choon eis 881 The Gypsy Gen tleman: cr. Nick Fox, Detective (622 Buffalo Bill's Daring Role; or, Daredeath Dick. | 793 Spokane Saul, the Samaritan Suspect Pp, 376 Black Beards: o1, The Rio Grande High Horse be 517 Buffalo Biil’s First Trail; or, The Express Rider. | 99 Dead Shot Paul, the Deep-Range Uxplorer 870 The Dusky Detective: or. Pursued to the End. 258 Buffalo Bill, Chief of Scouts, 655 Strawberry Sam. the Man with the Birthmark 263 Crowningshield, the Detective hy Buffalo Bill s Strange Pard; or, Dashing Dandy, 646 Dark John, the Grim Guard * | 320 The Genteel Spotter; or The N. ¥. Night Hawk, 2 Buffalo Bill, the Buckskin King. 638 Murdock, the Dread Detective | Li Aya hte Nm j ey or The agate od 23 Dahverou Towers Re | 208 The Double Detective: or, The Mic : vy BY HAROLD PAYNE, af ay ‘abe tee tomb Obes oan heeeg 196 La Marmoset, the Letective Queen. AG fes3 The Man from Mexico in New York. 596 Rustler Rube; the Round-Up Detective. | : La — didiy Cae a bt Innkeeper’s Daughter, &72/The King-Pin Shark; or, Thad Burr's Ten Strike, | 585 Dan Dixon’s Double, Ba Sai iy Hota or ‘Tho Lescue of Three \861 ‘The Tenderloin Big Four 57> Steady Hand. the Napoleon of Detectives | 3) eee Oe. ore or, A Heart ot Fire. iY ‘$58 The Quaker City Crook. 563 Wyoming Zeke, the Hotspur of Honessuckie. » pn ¢ he Human Tiger: oF, b lor Prison and Street, Tracked to Chicago. 551 Garry Kean the Man with Backbone, | Santen re Corre, Oe Th heh Avene Heiresa! 886 The Policy Broker's Blind. 534 Old Doubledark, the Wily Detective. | kg aoe ape alate paced hag’ Me aimven of the Pistea. £29 The Frisco Sharper’s Cool Hand, 581 Saddle-Chief Kit, the Prairie Centaur. 0 The 1naiaR Mazeppa; rh K nase oe wes 821 The Tramp Shadower’s Backer, 521 Paradise Sam, the Nor’-West Pilot, > The Calif pee ori ve: or, The Witches of N.Y oe re Baar 8 poe es nis Rcpeme. oe Teen rartar, mre Mant With ive Lives. e The eres veakaree oe rhe Wash of Lichtaing’ rand Stree -Dust Sharpers. ncle Honest. the Peacemaker of Hornets’ Nest, : Vite. 498 Detective Burr’s Luna’ ic Witness 498 Central Pacific Paul, the Mail Train Spy. | 27 The Spotter Detective: or, Girls of New York, The Wall Street Sharper’s Snap. 492 Border Bullet, the Prairie Sharpshooter, NEW ISSUES. Thad Burr's Death Drop. 486 Kansas Kitten, the Northwest Detective. ‘ A ee [42 Detective Burr Among the New York Thugs. 479 Gladiator Gabe, the Samson of Sassajack. | 1000 Buffalo Bill's Grim Guard. By Col, Ingraham,; %84 Detective Burr's Foil; or, A Woman’s Strategy. | 470 The Duke of Dakota. 166i The Brand-Burnersof Cimarron. By Jobn W. \ 728 Detective Burr, the Headquarters Special. 468 Gold Gauntlet. the Gulch Gladiator. Osbon. ( ‘43 Detective Burr's Spirit Chase. 455 Yank Yellowbird, the Tall Hustier of the Hills, | 1902 Silver City Sam. By Jos. HB. 4 Gh ‘ pe Detective Burr’s Seven Clues. 449 Binff Burke, King of the Rockies, | 1003 Gold Dan; or, Dick Talbot in Utah. By Albert 698 Thad Burr, the Invincible; or, The “L” Clue, 442 Wild West Walt, the Mowatain Veteran W, Aiken. | eM e Bey uaer Cam | SERA ciate || | Ba Ran a eB Sala the Fatal Clew; or, Burr’s Master , he Rivals of Montana Mill oot- - 3} . - ; , ais Hot Heart, the Detective Spy. ‘ 1006 The Sea Cadet. By Col. P. Ingrabarr y the Brigadier 0. n, ' f eediioce’ lo aya Hl, MONSTERY, wi Colorady, Rube, the Strong Arm of Ho Se | JUST ISSUED. eee tae ‘ PORE. GE SMR OE | 946 Tnjun Dick, the Shasta Dead Shot, By Aiken, . 986 Iron Wrist, the Swordmaster, njun Dick, ; ; ‘486 Champion Sam; or, The Monarchs of the Show. BY NED BUNTLINE. | 997 eee ee een ere fiard Luck. By | ea - (aey 2 Pablo Bravo, King of the Swordemes \ 657 Lone Tom, the Privateer. 098 Captain Seawaif, Privateer. By Ned Buntling, Di 3 633 The Sea Spy, 999 The Velvet Hand; or, The Iron Grip of Injum Cs ll mS BY J. W. OSBON. = oe ia rh ving or, The esd gaat Rover. Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. Ff feather, the Bunce r NG . Shadrach, the Sport Detective. 817 Bul ’ lo Bill's First A 0 ead — . A new issue every Wednesday. PP. pal iegeg A pacar Sport. 861 Toudstone Dick, the Train Pilot, | THE POINTE LIBRARY is for sale by al fees Je : aste Salt, the Sparkler, 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idiot Spy. | _ tem eants cep). arsept by mail om Rew: Re. Hb \ Cool Creede, the Dead-Shot, _ | 11 The Smuggler Captain; or, The Skipper’s rime. sesltnaaer silly, FT te red Prominin Ae Le ‘te Royal Wichard, th Louis. 18 The Sea Bandit; or, The Queen of the Isle. receipt of price, i.e lah a a ies doe —— the Thoroughbred, 16 The White Wizanz. ‘The Seminole Prophpt. | 8 “om wt Besos, . : L | } ‘ - ' ¥ Shale sera +2 cH, a _
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> 2 “ee a a Be eh rem a? 4 Bi ) iy 7 , 7 { bt i ¥ iy tH Od a i ay 5 _ @ me a 4 € “ee ey, Paice F v 4 ~ -BEADLE'S*[)IME*[IBRARY. a i x yublished Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cenjs. No Double Numbers. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. #8 Old Sobersides, the Detective of St. Louis. 65 White-Horse "8 The Double Edged Detective. 7 Maverick Mark. the Man from Nowhere, 98 Silky Steele, the Stay-in Sport. 84 Toe Spotter-Sport’s Neck-Tie Party. %0 High-Water Mark; or, Silver-Tip Sid, 62 Riata Rob, the Range Champion. 455 The Cowboy Chief’s Sure-Shot. oF Baga fee Eat Se Vv , the Cheyenne Sport. 824 The Soft Hand Detective. 815 The Soft Hand’s Clutch, Dan Dunn, the Soft-Hand Sport. 7% The Frisco Detective’s Thug-Tangle. 189 Sam sat f the River Sport. ‘80 The D Sport’s Double. 7@71 Prince John, Detective Special. 73 Dandy Don, the Denver Detective. 74 2he Man from Texas; or, Dangerfield, she Doctor Detective. 44 bey emery? Sam, the Silver Sport. 720 The ret Six; or, Old Haleyon. 712 The Man of Silk. |" 705 Bantam Bob, the Beauty from Butte. Kent Kasson, the Preacher Sport. Bob Breeze, the Rounder Detective, Steel Surry, the Sport from Sunrise, 668 Solemn Saul’s Luck Streak 661 The Get-There Sharp. 641 Sil¥extip Steve, the Sky Scraper from Siskiyou. 645 Gopher Gabe, the Unseen Detective. phd Dandy Darling, Detective. Mossback Mose, the Mountaineer. 617 The Grip-Sack bbarp’s Even up. 507 big y, the Brigadier of Belnstons Butte. 588 Sandy Sands, the Sharp from Snap City. 876 Silver-Ton Sid; or, Grip Sack Sharp’s Sweep. 4 The Grip-Sack Sharp; or, The Seraphs of Sodom, 655 Grip-Sack Sid, the Sample Sport. {47 The Buried Detective; or, Saul’s Six Sensations. Major Magnet, the Man of Nerve. Dandy Dutch, the Decorator from Dead-Lift tg7 Dandy Andy, the Diamond Detective. fil4 Gabe Gunn, the yg Rae Ginseng. 604 Solemn Saul, the Sad Man from San Saba. 49% Rattlepate Rob; or, The Roundhead’s Reprisal 488 The Thorougubred Sport. 474 Daddy Dead-Dye, the Desnot of Dew Drop. Old ugh and Ready, the Sage of Sundown Dutch Dan, the Pilgrim from Spitzenberg. 443 A Cool Hand; or, Pistol Johnny’s Picnic, #438 Oklahoma. Nick. Laughing Leo; or, Sam’s Dandy Pard. 26 The Ghost Detective: or. The Secret Service Spy. 16 Monte Jim. the Black Sheep of Bismarck. 99 Rob Roy Ranch; or, The Imps of Pan Handle. & The Nameless Sport. © Deedly Aim, the Duke of Derringers, @ Dark Dare; the Ishmae) of the Hills. rR Caniain sp, the Man with a Record. , 47 A Royal Fiusn; or, Dan Brown's Big Game. 560 ry ty Sh the Gamecock from Sundown, 855 Stormy Steve, the Mad Athlete. 251 Nor’ West Nick. the Border Detective. 345 Masked Mark, the Mornted Detective. 339 Spread Hagie Sam, the Hercules Hide Hunter. Chispa Charley, the Gold Nugget Sport. ‘3H Krank Lightfoot, the Miner Detective. 202 Moke Horner, the Boss Roustabout, 2% Pistol Jonnny; or, One Man in a Thousand, 283 Sleek Sam, the Devil of the Mines. 257 Death Trap Diggings;: or, A Man "Way Back 249 Elephant Tom, of Durango, Spitfire Saul, King of the Rustlers, The Old soy of Tombstone. 201 Pirate of the Placers: or, Joaquin’s Death Hunt 180 Old *49; or. The Amazon of Arizona, 170 Sweet William, the Trapper Detective. 165 Joaquin, the Terrible 154 Joaquin, the Saddie King. 141 Equinox Tom, the Bully of Red Rock. 119 Alabama Joe; or, The Yazoo Man-Hunters. 105 Dan Brown of Denver: or. The Detective. 88 Big George; or, The Five Outlaw Brothers. 71 Captain i Blade; or, Mississippi Man Shark. 67 The Boy Jockey; or, Honesty vs. Crookedness. & Jack Rabbit, tne Prairie Sport, BY WM. G. PA'TTEN, 210 Fire-Eye, the Thug’s Terror. Bg Old Night-Hawk, the Crook Shadower. The Prince of New York Crooks, 756 Old Burke, the Madison Square Detective. 747 Double-voice Day's Double Disguise. 715 Double-Voice Dan on Deck. 202 Double-Voica Dan, the Always-on-Deck Detective Double-Voice Dan, the Go-it Alone Detective, The Sparkler Sharp. 676 Hurricane Hal, the Cowboy Hotspur. 669 Old True Blue, the Trusty, 663 The Giant Sport or, Sold to Satan. ‘$56 Old Plug | iy the Rough and Ready. 645 Gold Glove Gid, the Man of Gris. 641 Aztec Jack, the Desert Nomad, 631 Colonel! Cool, the Santa Fe Sharp, $02 pn gorke Nameless. the Mountain Mystery. W71 Old Dismal, the Rangs Detective. : 45 Hustler Harry, the Cowboy Sport, RY GEORGE C. JENKS. The Arizona Detective. iver Sam, the Shasta Sport. he Silver Sport’s Double. The Race-Course Detective, t The Hayseed Detective. $ Captain Corden, the Twister Detective , Wild Pete the Broncho-Buster Detective, ‘ Fearless Sam. the Grand Combination Detective, , 719 Boston Bob, the Sport Detective. » 872 Jaunty Joe, the Jockey Detective, 554 Mad Sharp, the Rustler bie be Rocket, the Tent Detective, 526, th-Grip, the Tenderfoot Detective 507 The Drummer Detective. The Giant Horsewan y Bye, acific Detective, heeler, the Revenue Detective. BY WILLIAM KR. EYSTER. 916 Two Dead-Square Sports. 902 Soft Velvet, the Man from Sandrock. 891 Genteel Jim, mb 881 The Clubman-Crook’s Cat’s-paw. 867 The Frisco Sport. 852 The Stranger Sport’s Shake-u 828 Kirk King, the Man from Kirby. 818 Gentleman Dave, the Dead Game Sport 783 The King-Pin Tramp. 767 The Sport of Silver Bend. 718 Uncle Bedrock’s Big Bounce. 70? The Rival Rovers. 687 Double Cinch Dan, the Sport With a Charm. 677 Mr. Jackson, the Gent from Jaybira. 659 Gilt-Ed Johnny; or, Roldan and His Rovers. 650 Lucky Lester’s Lone Hand. 684 Old Handcart’s Big Dump. 622 The All Around Sports. 603 Desert Alf, the Man With the Cougar, 590 Gentle Jack, the High Roller from Humbug. 578 Seven Shot Steve, the Sport with a Smile. 568 The Dude Detective. 558 Hurrah Harry, the High Horse from Halcyon. 549 Belshazzar Brick, the Bailiff of Blue Blazes. 583 Oregon, the Sport With a Scar, 508 The Dude from Denver. 478 Pinnacle Pete; or, The Fool from Way Back. 459 eg? Sunshine, the Man of Three Lives. 429 Hair Trigger Tom of Red Bend, 402 Snapshot Sam; or, The Angels’ Fiat Racket. 896 The Piper Detective; or, The Gilt Edge Gang. 875 Royal George, the Three in One. 356 Three Handsome Sports; or, The Combination. 833 Derringer Dick, the Man with the Drop. 268 Magic Mike, “he Man of Frills. 229 Captain Cutsiceve; or, The Little Sport. 214 The Two Cool Sports; or, Gertie of the Gulch, 182 Hands Up; or, The Knights of the Canyon, 160 Soft Hand, Sharp: or, The Man with the Sana. 145 Pistol Pards; or, The Silent Sport from Cinnabar BY NED BUNTLINE. 657 Long Tom, the Privateer. 633.The Sea Spy. 621 The Red Privaveer; or, The Midshipman Rover. 584 Fire Feather, the Buccaneer King. 517 Buffalo Bill's First Trail, 861 Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot, 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idiot § y. 111 The Smuggler Captain; or, t © Skipper’s Crime, 18 The Sca Bandit; or, The Quéen of the Isle. 16 The White Wizard; or, The Seminole Prophet. BY JACKSON KNOX—“ Old Hawk.” 888 Old Grips Still Hunt, 827 Detective Walden’s Web. 778 The Butler Detective; or, Old Grip’s Grip 770 The Showman Dete*tive. 762 Old Grip, the Detective, 740 Captain Clew, the Fighting Detective, 732 The Hurricane Detective. 643 Castlemaine, the Silent Sifter. 616 Magnus, the Weird Detective. 606 The Drop Detective. 595 Wellbaosn, the Upper Crust Deteetive, 582. Joram, the Detective Expert. 574 Old Falcon’s Double. , 561 The Thug King; or, The Falcon Detective’s Foe. &8 Falconbridge. the Sphinx Detective. 536 Old Falcon's Foe; or, The Detective’s Swell Job. 515 Short-Stop Maje,; the Diamond Field Detective. 609 Old Falcon, the Thunderbolt Detective, 501 aay ore Steve, the Retired Detective, 494 The Detective’s Spy. 485 Rowlock. the Harbor Detective, 477 Dead-arm Brandt. 457. Mainwaring. the Salamander, ¢ 462 The Cincus Detective. 451 Griplock, the Rocket Detective, 444 The Magic Detective; or, The Hidden Hand, 424 Hawk Aeron’s Deputy. 886 Hawk Heron, the Falcon Detective, BY J, C, COWDRICK, 752 The Suspect Sport of Daisy Drift. 626 Ducats Dion, the Nabob Sport Detective. 612 Sheriff Stillw ood, the Reguiator of Raspberry. 598 The Dominie Detective. 691 Duke Daniels, the Society Detective. 580 Shadowing a Shadow. 565 Prince Paul, the Postman Detective. 557 The Mountain Graybeards; or, Riddles’ Riddle. 519 Old Riddles,, the Rocky nger 499 Twilight Charlie, the Road Sport. 472 Gilbert of Gotham, the Steel-arm Detective, 452 Rainbow Rob, the Tulip from Texas, 436 Kentucky Jean, the Sport from Yellow Pine. 422 Blue Grass Burt. the Gold Star Detective, 890 The Giant Cupid; or Cibuta John’s Jubilee. BY EDWARD WILLETT, 483 Flush Fred, the River Sharp. 368 The Canyon King; or, a Price on his Head, 248 Dan Dillon, King of Crosscut. $37 Old Gabe, the Mountain ober 827 Terrapin Dick, the Wildwood Detective. 815 Flush F’red’s Double; or, The Squatters’ League 808 Hemlock Hank, Tough and True. 2908 Logger Lem; or, Life in the Pine Woods, 289 Flush Fred’s Full Hand. 274 Flush Fred, the Mississippi Sport. 248 Montana Nat, the Lion of Last Chance Camp. 222 Bill the Blizzard; or, Red Jack’s Crime. 209 Buck Farley, the Bonauza Prince. 129 Mississippi Mose; ‘or, a Strong Man's Sacrifice. BY CAPTAIN MAYWNE REID, M7 The White Squaw, 234 The Hunter’s eest, 21°. The Wild Huntress; or, The Squatter. 200 The Rifle Rangers; or. Adventures in Mexico, 74 The Captain of the Rifles; or, The Lake Queen. 66 The Specter Barque, A Tale of the Pacific. 55-The Scalp Hunters \ Romance of the Plains, ' BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM. $11 The Blue Blockader; or, The Coast Grayhound 906 The Cuban Cruiser. 854 The Ocean Gipsy. 884 The Wiid Steer Riders; or, Texas Jack’s Terrors, 639 The Rival Monte Cristos. 805 The Last of the Pirates; or, Doom Driven. 801 The Water Wolves’ Detective; or, Trapping the Grave Ghouls. 791 The Coast-Raider’s Death-Chase, 748 Arizona Chartie, the Crack-sbot Detective. 704 Invisible Ivan, the Wizard Detective. 685 The Red-skin Sea Rover. 679 Revello, the Pirate Cruiser; or, The Rival Rovers 672 The Red Rapier; or, The Sea Rover’s pee 662 The Jew D-tective; or, The Beautiful Con 640 Tne Rover’s Ret ibution. 635 The Ex-Buecaneer; or, The Stigma of Sin. 625 Red Wings; or, The Gold Seekers of the Bahamas, par ate Ras ; tang " 8 Flag Rover; or, White Wings of the Deep, 605 The Shadow Silver Ship. es 600 The Silver Ship; or; The Sea Scouts of °76, 593 The Sea Rebel; or. Red Rovers of the Revolution, 587 Conrad, the Sailor Spy; or. True Hearts of "76. 581 The Ontlawed Skipper; or, The Gantiet Runner, 560 The Man from Mexico, 553 Max Monte, the Mutineer; or, The Branded Brig, 546 Th Doomed Whaler: or, The Life Wreck, 530 The Say of the Sea, 524 The Sea Chaser; or, The Pirate Noble, 510 El Moro, the Corsair Commodore. 493 The Scouts of the Sea. 457 The Sea Insurgent: or, The Conspirator Son. 445 Ocean Ogre, the Outcast Corsair, 435 The One-Armed buccaneer. 430 The Fatal Frigate; or, Rivals in Love and Waa 899 The New Monte Cristo, 393 The Convict Captian. 377 Afloat and Ashore; or, The Corsair Conspiraton 369 The Coast Corsair: or, The Siren of the Sea, 864 The Sea Fugitive: or, The Queen of tne Coast $41 The Sea Desperado, ‘ 836 Tne Magic Ship: or, Sandy Hook Freebooters. 825 The Gentleman Pirate; or, Tne Casco Hermite, $18 The Indian Uuccaneer; or, The Red Rovers. 307, The Phantom Pirate; or, The Water Wolves, 25 The Pirate Priest; or, The Gambler's Daughtes, 246 Queen Helen, the Amazon of the Over 235 Lightning the Man of Chance. 224 Black Beard, the Buccaneer. 220 The Specter Yacht; or, A Brother’s Crime, 210 Buccaneer Bess. the Lioness of the Sea. 205 The Gambler Pirate; or, Lady of the Lagoog_ 198 The Skeleton Schooner; or, The Skimmer. 7 184 The Searlet Schooner: or. The Sea Nemesis. 104 Montezuma, the Merciless, J 103 Merle, the Mutineer; or, The Red Anchor Brag 4 @Y PHILIP S. WARNE, 802 Dah Dirk, King of No Man’s Land. 583 Captain Adair, the Cattle er 567 Captain Midnight, the Man of Craft. 44 The Back to Back Pards. $22 The Cham pion Three, 502 Bareback Buck, the,Centaur of the Plains, 472 Six Foot Si; or,’ The Man to “ Tie To.” 431 California Kit, the Always on Hand. 404 Silver Sid; or, A “* Daisy ” Bluff. 880 Tiger Dick’s Pledge: or, Tne Golden Serpent, 359 Yellow Jack, the Mestizo. $38 Jack Sands, the Boss of the Tcwn. 299 Toree of a Kind; or, Dick, Despard and the Sport, 251 Tiger Dick vs. Lron ete 207 Old Hard Head; or, Whirlwind and his Mare. 171 Tiger Dick, the Man of the Iron Heart. 114 The Gentleman from Pike. 80 A Man of Nerve; or, Caliban the Dwarf, 54 Always on Hand; or, The Foot-Hills Sport, 29 Tiger Dick, Faro King; or, The Cashier’s Crime, 4 The Kidnapper; or, The Northwest Shanghai, BY CAPTAIN MARK WILTON. 823 Hotspur Hugh; or, The Banded Brothers, 811 Heavy Hand; or, The Marked Men. 805 Silver-Plated Sol, the Montana Rover. 291 Horseshoe Hank, the Man of Big Luck, 285 Lightning Bolt, the Canyon Terror, 276 Texas Chick. the Southwest Detective. 271 Stonefist, of Big Nugget Bend. 266 Leopard Luke. the King of Horse-Thieves 263 Iron-Armed Abe, the Hunchback Destroyer 258 Bullet Head, the Colorado Bravo. 272 Long-Haired Max; or, ‘The Black League. 227 Buckshot Ben, {he Man-Hunter of Idaho. 223 Canyon Dave, the Man of the Mountain, 219 The Scorpion Brothers; or, Mad Tom’s Missip 202 Cactus Jack, the Giant Guide. 191 Don Sombrero. the California Road Gent, hd Lady Jaguar, the Robber Queen. BY OLL COOMIES. 619 Kit Bandy & Oo , the Border Detectivee,. 148 One-Armed A/f, the Giant Hunter. 99 The Giant Riflernan: or, Wild Camp Life. 483 Dakota Dan. the Reckless Ranger, 236 ee Sam: or, The Monarebsof the Shor 150 El Rubio Bravo, King of the Swordsmen, BY DR. NOEL DUNBAR. 919 The Sea Scout; or, The Patriot Privateer. 886 The King of Crooks, 858 Number One, the Dead-set Detective. 850 The Planter Deteetive. 730 Duke Despard, the Gambler Duelist. ‘ 604 The Detective in Rags; or, The Grim Shadowen, 500 The True-Heart Pards, A new issue every Wednesday Newedealers, ten cents per copy, or sent b receipt of twelve cents ean’ oe y, Keadle’s Dime Library is for an te e
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979 973 964 960 956 950 943 WA s-.., §26 822 O@Oe0@00000080 Each Number BUF FHL Complete... | | — mu fovels Buffalo Bill’s Relentless Trail. Prentiss Ingraham. The Dread Shot Four; or, My Pards of the| Plains. Gy Col. W. F. Cody, By Colonel | 820 816 Buffalo Pill’s Inyincibles; or, The Sable Shad-| 812 ower’s Sublime Sacrifice. By Col. P, Ingra- ham. | OT Buffalo Bill’s Blue Belt Brigade; or, Sun-| flower Sam of Shasta. By Col. P. Ingraham) | 807 Buffalo Bill's Volunteer Vigilantes; or, The | Mysterious Man in Blue. By Col, P. Ingra- ham. Buffalo Bill at Bay; or, The Gold Seeker's Doom. By Col.. P,\ingrahaim, ' Buffalo Bill's Block Came; or, The M unted | Miners of the Overland. By Col. P. Ingra-} ham. Buffalo Bill’s Black Pard; or, The Gold Boomers of the Big Horn. By Col. P. Ingra- ham. F 3uffalo Bill's Bluff; or, Dusky Dick, the Sport. By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Quandary; or, Velvet Bill's Vow By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill and the Surgeon Scout: ot, Go- Wan-go, the Redskin Rider, By Col. P.. In- graham. Buffalo Bill’s League; or, Red. Butterfly. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. suffalo Bill's Tangled Trall;. or, Gentleman | Jack, the Man of Many Masks, By “ol. 4 Ingrahani. Buffalo Bill’s Rough Riders; or, Texas Jack's! Sharp-Shooters. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. | Buffalo Bili‘s Secret Ally; or, The ‘Texan's | Double. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo LBil's Life-Stake; or, The Pledged Three. By Col. P, Ingraham. The Three Bills; Buffalo Bill, Wild Bill and Band-Box Bill; or, The Bravo in Broadcloth. | By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Buckskin Braves; or, The Card Queen's Last Game. ‘By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Road Agent Round-Up; or, The} Mysterious Masked Man in Black. By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Death-Charm; or, The Man With the Scar. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, Buffalo Bill's Royal Flush; or, The Pony Ri- der’s Death-Run. By Col, Prentiss Ingra- ham. Buffalo Bill's Double Dilemma; or, The Great Scout's Big Three. By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Redskin Ruse; or, Texas Jack's Death Shot. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. The Ranch King Dead-shot; or, Texas Jack's Proxy, By BPuffalo Bill. Buffalo Bill’s Boys in Blue; or, The Brimstone Band’s Blot-out. By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Sharp-Shooters; or, The Surgeon Scout to the Rescue, By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Gest Bower; or, Montebello the Gold King. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. ane Pole a 000000000 OAQ0d000080 90@000600 794 743 789 735 731 727 722 eu, eee he White Beaver’s Still Hunt; or, The Miner| 653 Marauder’s Death-Track. By Buffalo Bill. Puffalo Gill's Red Trail; or, The Road-Rider lxenegade’s Run Down. By Col. P, Ingraham. | 649 Baffold Bil’s Death-Knelt; or, The Red Hond! 644 Riders of the Rockies. By-Col, P. Ingraham. Wild Bul, the Wild West Duelist; er, The Girl; 639 Mascot of Moonlight Mine. by tjuttalo Bill, Wild Bill, the Wild, West Duelist; or, The Girl) 629 Grande Ralph, the Cowboy Chief. By Butf-| falo Bill. Buffalo Bill's Winning Hand; or, The Masked Woman of tho Colorado Canyon. By Col. P.| Ingraham ) Buffalo Bill's Dead Shotyor, TheSkeleton Scout of the Colorado, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, Buffalo Bitt's Brand; or, The Brimstone Brotherhood. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Spy-Shadower; or, The Masked Men at Grand Canyon. By Col, P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Ban; or, Cody to the Rescue, By Leon Lewis, Buffalo Bill's Sweepstake; or, The Wipe-out) 599 S1T Al4 401 397 394 at Last Chance. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. | $90 5 Buffalo Bill's Dozen; or, Silk Ribbon Sam. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 229 or, The Death Valley By Col. ‘Prentiss Ingraham, Buffato Bill’s Mascot; Victim No. 13. 7 Buffalo Bill’s Double; or, The Desperado De- tective. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. B04 Buffalo Bill's Big Four; or, Custe’s Shadow. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 243 Buffalo Bill’s Flush Hand; or, Texas Jack's Bravos. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Blind; or, The Masked Driver} 189 of Death’s Canyon. By Col. Prentiss Ingra- ham. 175 Buffalo Bill and His Merry Men; or, The Robin Hood Riyals, By Col. Prentiss Ingra-} 198 ham. Buffalo Bill’s Beagies; or, Silk Lasso Sam. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Body Guard; or, The Still Hunt} 117 of the Hills. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill on the War Path; or, Silk Lasso 158 92 Sam, the Will-o’-the-Wisp. By Col. P. In- graham. ; Buffalo Bitiis Seout Shadowers; or, Emer-f[ sg ald Ed of Devil’s Acre. By Col, P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill Baffled; or, The Deserter Des-} 52 perado’s Defiance. By Col. P; Ingraham, Buffalo Bill's Buckskin Brotherhood; or, Opening Up a Lost Trail. graham. Buffalo Bill’s Blind Trail; or, The Daughter of the Regiment. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, Buffalo Bill's Secret Service Trail.. By Major Dangerfield Burr. Buffalo Bill's Swoop; or, .the King of the Mines. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham: Tite Cowboy Clan; or, The Tigress of Texas. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. By Col. P. In- ne HE DIME LIBRARY is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail, ‘pre-paid, on re- ceipt of price 981 The Gold Lace Sport; or, The Texan Sam- 982 Chris Crewley’s Winning Hand; 983 Kid Glove Kris, the Sport. 984 Buffalo Bill's Life Raffle; or, The Doomed The Lasso King’s League; or, The Tigers of Texas. 3y Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. Buck Taylor, thé Saddle King. Buffalo Bill's Chief of Scouts. By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Bonanza; or, The Knights of the Silver Circle. By Col. P. Ingraham. The Gold King; or, Montebello, the Magnifi- cent. By Buffalo Bill, Buffalo Bill's Daring Role; or, Daredeath Dick, King of the Cowboys. By Leon Lewis, The Dead Shot Nine: or, My Pards of the Plains. By Buffalo Bill. Buffalo Bill’s First Trail; or; Will Cody, the Pony Express Rider. By Ned Buntline, ay Renard, the Indian Detective; or, ‘The old Buzzards of Colorado, By Buffalo Bill. The One-Armed Pard; or, Red Retribution fn Borderland, By Buffalo Bill. The Wizard Brothers; or, Trail. By Buffalo Bill. White Beaver, the @xile of the Platte; or, oar Man’s Red Trail, By Buffalo Sill, Buffalo Bill's Grip; or, Oath-bound to Custer. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 3uffalo Bill's Pledge; or, The League of Three. By Col, P. Ingraham, Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. Buffalo Bill, Texas Jack, the Prairie Rattler; or, Queen of the Wild Riders. By Buffalo Bi The Pilgrim Sharp; or, The Soldier’s Sweet- heart. By»Buffalo Bill, Government Scout and Guide, Wild Bill's Gold Trail; White Beaver’s | By The ll. or, The Desperate Dozen. By Col, P, Ingraham. Wild Bill's: Trump Card; or, The Indian Heiress, By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. Wild Bill,, the Pistol Dead Shot; or, Dagger Don’s Double. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill, Chief of Scouts; or, The Doomed Dozen. By Dr, Frank Powell. Buffalo Bill's Strange Pard; or,.. Dashing pends. the Hotspur of the Hills, By Major , Burr. Buffalo Bill, the Buckskin King;, or, The ena of the West. By Major Dangerfield urr. ; Gold Bullet Sport; or, The Knights of the Overland. By Buffalo Bill. Death Trailer, the Chief of Scouts; cr, Lifo oat Love in a Frontier Fort. By Buffalo NEW ISSUES TO COME. son’s Wide Swath. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. or, The Rascally Valet's Double Game. By A. .P. Morris, By J. C. Cow- drick. Ready August 25, Three. By Col. P. Ingraham. Ready Sept. 1. 0600000000 909000000