Beadle's New York Dime Library (no. 70) (1879 06 18)
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Vol. VI. Hydrabad, the Strangler ; Alethe, the Child of the Cord. A Tale of Jungle and Bungalow Life. Published Every Two Weeks. BY DR. J. H. ROBINSON, AUTHOR OF ‘‘ PATHAWAY,” “‘ NIGHTSHADE,” ETC. CHAPTER I. THE SILENT DEATH. Tue day had been sultry; but as it neared its close, soft and grateful pcan he breathed balmi- ly through the luxuriant ian scenery. Earth % {n Ail 5 LIVI 6 i \S \ \ Ma BEG Basia (a HTES Beadle § Adams, Publishers, 98 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y., June 18th, 1879. and air seemed dreaming together. The mur- murs of leaves were whispered thoughts, and the rippling of running waters half revived memories of the past. The nodding flowers fainted and languished in their own perfumes; the long grass drooped dreamily in the volup- tuous atmosphere. The birds ceased to sing, soothed and content with the mere pleasure of mute existence. Even the deadly serpent lay harmless in its coil, robbed for a time of its malice by the all-conquering sweetness of the most delicious climate in the world. At this pleasing hour, when Nature herself sympathized with her creations, pulsing her own mysterious life into all animate things, a maiden, more beautiful than graceful palm or bending acacia, moved slowly from the trellised + fs ER, A) \ \\ —— hiny an i nn ‘ . Fe ee Ten Cents a Copy. $2.50 a Year. No. 70 veranda of a bamboo cottage to the sheltering canopy of a triarchal banyan tree, beneath whose spreading arms she seated herself, on the folds of an Indian shawl. She was a young English girl, of eighteen ears, with an exquisite form, and a face to ove at first sight. Her skin was whiter than the transparent muslin she wore, or the large arls that encircled her neck and arms and ung in silvery loops from her dark hair, after the fashion of the natives. Her teeth, seen through her crimson lips, were like drifted snow. Her eyes were large, her face oval and faultless in every feature. Her expression, as she reclined in the shade of the banyan, was serene and thought- ful. She had brought with her a book, but ra * SUDDENLY THE CORD SHOT FROM HIS HAND, AND THE NOOSE WAS DESCENDING WITH UNERRING PRECISION OVER THE FAIREST HEAD IN INDIA, WHEN THAT - PITILESS ARM WAS ARRESTED, AND A RETRIBUTIVE HAND GRASPED THE MURDEROUS AND MALIGN BEING BY THE THROAT.
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2 / Hydrabad, the Strangler, the falling twilight blurred the pages ; and she put if aside, and abandoned herself to the gentle influences of the hour. What the English beauty thought of, who may tell? Who shall guess the fancies that floated through her pretty head? Perhaps her consciousness was of earth ; possibly of a celestial region in the clouds. Whatever were her reflections, it is certain that she presented a most pleasing picture to the eye, which well might be pardoned for returning again and again to the delightful contempla- tion. Sometimes her eyes rested pensively upon the foliage at her feet ; sometimes they wan- dered dreamily upward through the thick branches of the trees to fleecy little islands in the clouda; and sometimes the long, silk- en lashes closed languidly, shutting out everything but the flowing shapes and images in her own brain. On her right was the bamboo cottage, peep- ine from a mass of foliage, scented with the odor of the Indian rose, and relieved by the flowing leaves of the scarlet sagittaria ; while at her left the tamarind, palm, and the ban- yan, growing in serried columns, stretched down to the banks of the Jumna River—form- ing long and shady avenues, not only pictur- esque to the sight, but most grateful in the tropical heats. In one of these natural arcades, a nearly naked figure had been lying for the last hour. This halfnude body pertained to and com- prised the personality of one of those no- madic natives of India, whose lives, habits, religion, and manner of subsistence, are alike a terror and a mystery. While he lay nestled in the long grass, he occasionally lifted himself upon his knees and looked toward the bamboo cottage with an earnestness that evinced no ordinary pur- pose. In critically observing his swarthy face, the eyes would first be noticed ; not only for their great size, but for the darting brilliancy of the pupil, and the extraordinary quantity of white that surrounded the iris. His fea- tures were large, but not irregular ; strongly marked, and, in repose, not repulsive. As he raised his head and gazed steadily at the veranda, his parted lips revealed teeth of singular whiteness ; they were long, too, and sharp, reminding one of a carniverous ani- mal. As he appeared then, his mouth was a hungry mouth ; his teeth, ravenous teeth ; his nose, a nose to scent his victim afar off; his eyes, crafty and pitiless eyes; and his hands, the claws of a beast, to clutch and to rend. He wore loose trowsers, fastened at the waist by a leathern belt. A strip of red cloth was ep over his right shoulder and tied in a knot under his left arm, which was all he wore, from his waist upward. His feet were shod with sandals. A narrow band of white cloth around his head, kept his long, black, coarse hair from falling over his face. A stout cord was coiled about his body, hd above the leathern belt, and secured by a not. This strange being might have been thirty- five years of age. When he perceived the English girl issu- ing from the bungalow and approaching the banyan, his sooty features worked with ex- citement. A wild gleam illuminated his eyes. When she had seated herself, he be- gan to crawl toward her. His windings re- sembled those of the wily serpent that glides through grass and foliage unseen and un- heard. Nosound gave warning of his ap- proach. By and by, he reached the banyan- tree, and rising, stood, screened by its trunk, on the opposite side of which reclined the unconscious maiden, whose appearance we have imperfectly described. Standing erect in the mellow twilight, his brawny figure was not unlike a statue of bronze. With a gliding motion of the hands, he unknotted the cord at his waist, and with singular dexterity made a noose at one end. He moved quietly around the tree until the whole person of the beautiful young Eng- lishwoman was in view. With the cord in his right hand, and a dark and terrible smile upon his lips, he gazed at the rare vision be- fore him. Changes swept over his face as he looked; but in the whirl of varied emo- tions there was not one softening flash of pity. His lips parted more and more, show- ing the sharp, hungry teeth ; his nostrils di- lated ; his eyes darted fiery glances ; his chest rose and fell responsive to the fluctuations of his dark spirit, and the great muscles of his | arms swelled and quiverel. Suddenly the cord shot from his hand, and the noose was descending with unerring ye cision over the fairest head in India, when that pitiless arm was arrested, and a retribu- tive hand grasped the murderous and malign being by the throat. The cord fell to the ground, and a fierce struggle instantly fol- lowed. The lady, not knowing what had happened, and taken entirely by surprise, sprang te her feet, and beheld the violent but brief contest with terror and amazement. The native, being very athletic and agile, soon managed to slip away from his assail- ant, who was a young man, wearing the uniform of a British officer. The native, though at liberty, instead of disappearing in the jungle, ran a few yards and stopped ; crossing his arms moodily on his chest, he eyed the man who had thwarted his fiendish purpose with searching and sullen curiosity. “What has happened?” cried the lady. “What is the meaning of this ?” The officer pointed to the cord that was lying on the ground, at the foot of the tree. he seemed at once to comprehend the frightful nature of the danger she had escap- ed. She grew whiter than a lily; she pressed her hand upon her heart to still its startled throbbings. For a moment, darkness filmned her eyes; her limbs trembled; her breath came and went in gasps. Presently, the dimness and dizziness swept from sense and sight. Lifting her gaze, she saw the half-nude native, his broad breast still agitat- ed, his supple limbs aquiver, and an evil smile on his lips. The cord at her feet, the visage, and expres- sion of the native, with the circumstance of his silent. approach, combined to give her a perfect apprehension of his design. “A Thug!’ she murmured, pale with horror, “A Thug!” repeated the officer, looking from her to the native, with a perceptible shiver. He felt for a pistol at his belt; it was not there—it had fallen from his person during the struggle ; and he now perceived, to his dismay, that the native held it in his hand. The officer glanced at the beautiful girl with a troubled countenance. The Thug’s darting orbs glittered triumphantly. “Leave us! You are not safe,” said the young man, in a low and warning voice. “ He is armed !” “Fear not!” said the Thug, disdainfully. ““T am the servant of the Cord; what it will not do, I leave undone. I deal little with fire and steel.” The young Englishwoman remained rivet- ed to the spot. There was a fearful fascina- tion in his restless eyes. His parted lips and white teeth reminded her of tales she had heard of ghouls and vampyres. “Begone, wretch!” cried the officer, in a tone of loathing and indignation. “T go,” answered the Thug, “at no man’s bidding !” “Why have you sought my life?” asked the lady, overcoming her natural repugnance toaddressing one whose purpose was so direful. “T make no choice!” replied the Thug, a smile like dark lightning flitting over his malevolent mouth. “Iam the Child of the Cord, and the slave of the Silent Death.” The lady shuddered. “Tam one of the appointed destroyers of mankind,” he added, in a voice noticeably clear and resonant. ‘I glide here and there, with the soft step of the prowling panther. Like an arrow, I go paar am sped.” “Go, then,” said the young man, “and pol- lute this place no longer with your presence.” ’ “Call not down on your head the curse of the Stranglers!” returned the Thug, menac- ingly. “Where dwell the Stranglers?” inquired the officer. “In every part of India. They wait at our tables; they sit at your feet. They uild mud cottages; they till the ground ; they deal in merchandise ; they do ail things that others do. Sit down in your bungalow ; walk among the trees; smoke your pipe be- neath the shade of the palm ; repose on your couch at noonday; yet the Cord and the Silent Death are ever near. Where dwells the Strangler? Here, there, everywhere! In the bamboo cottage ; in the mud hut; in the great houses of the English, and in the tents of the wandering Parsee.” The Thug paused, glanced at the two be- fore him, enjoying both their surprise and - horror. Advancing, he recovered the cord, which he coiled around him as before, being careful the while to keep the pistol turned toward the oflicer. “We shall meet again,” he added, slowly moving to the avenue of trees; then pointing the pide upward, discharged all its barrels rapidly. Casting the empty weapon upon the ground, the native darted into the jungle and disappeared. CHAPTER II. BARNABAS HUTTON. While the fair young Englishwoman and the officer stood looking at the place where the Strangler had disappeared, a military, middle-aged gentleman issued from the cot- tage, and approached them. He had a rotund body, a rosy face, and twinkling, good-natured eyes. He reached the parties without being seen by them. He stood a few seconds without speaking, quite at a loss to account for their silence. Obtaining, presently, a view of the young man’s face, he addressed him with much warmth. “ Lieutenant Kavanagh, I am delighted to see you! How goes the rebellion? What news from the army? What brings you here? How came you téte-a-téte with m ward? Know her, I s’pose? Ida Macgre- gor! Fine piece of womanhood! Like an old fool, ’'m fond of her. Love her about as well as I do Melicent. Why don’t youspeak, Sir? What the deuce do you mean, Sir? Can't you do anything but stare at the girl ? She isn’t to eat nor to drink, Six!” “Major Rainbold,” answered the young officer, blushing, “you overwhelm me with questions, any or all of which I would will- ingly answer, if proposed one at atime. If this lady be your ward, I assure you it was quite unknown to me; having found her under circumstanves that admitted of none of the formalities of etiquette.” “ Wormalities, Sir! Blast me!” he laid his hand on the hilt of his sword, “T’ll have all the formalities at my bungalow that were ever thought of!” Turning his regards upon Ida Macgregor, he observed her extreme pallidness. “ What has occurred ?” he added, instantly, with changed manner. “Bad news from Cawnpoor? Sepoys coming ?” “ First,” replied the officer, “introduce me to your ward.” “ Certainly! Miss Macgregor; permit me to present to you one ot my army-friends, Lieutenant Neal Kavanagh, as brave a young fellow as ever mounted a breach.” “ My dear guardian,” said Miss Macgregor, “he has already proved his courage. I am indebted to his friendly arm for what life is left in me.” “There seems enough of it left to make our cheeks red, girl. Oh, you're both doing it!” said the Major, remarking that their faces were suffused. “T have had a visit,” said Miss Macgregor, with a shudder, “from one of those exe- crable creatures called ‘Thugs’ or ‘Stran- glers’.”” Major Rainbold’s ruby countenance grew a shade less glowing. He instinctively looked at the young woman's neck, to see if the mark of a cord were on it. “ His dreadful purpose was thwarted at the last moment by the timely interposition of your friend,” she added. “T hope,” cried the Major, grasping Kay- anagh’s hand and shaking it cordially, “ that you shot the wretch ?” “Unfortunately, I had not the opportu- nity. He escaped,” answered Kayan, “It is greatly to be regretted! I should like to have the hanging of this terrible sect. which, it is said, infests the entire country. But how goes the rebellion ?” x The Major gallantly proffered his arm to his ward, who looked faint, and needful of support. j “The rebellion,” replied the Lieutenant, “goes badly enough. The country is thor- oughly aroused. But few Sepoys remain faithful to us; and, I say it with sorrow, there is no place of safety for English resi- dents in India. My visit here is partly for the purpose of giving you timely warning, and partly on account ofa slight wound which I received two dayg ago,in an engagement
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painted on near Cawnpoor. Ifyou know of any place of security, it is your duty, Major Rainbold, to seek it without delay. The most horrible barbarities are being daily practiced. Wom- en and children excite no pity in the hearts of these monsters. Revolting cruelties are hourly perpetrated.” Ida trembled on her guardian’s arm. “These dreadful tales have too often reached me, even in this seclusion. I wish I could buckle on my sword, and hasten to the aid of our gallant countrymen; but my wounds are not yet healed, and that is not the worst of it; I cannot leave my girls un- protected. Heaven knows,” added the Ma- jor, with emotion, ‘ where I shall find a place to hide them from the fury of these raging demons !” “T have seen,” said Kavanagh, in a sup- pressed voice, the wives and daughters of our gallant officers hacked to pieces in the streets, as if they were of no more considera- tion than beasts of prey. Neither youth, beauty, nor innocence have power to soften the hearts of the Rebels. The mutinous Sepoys are the most cruel of all.” hile they were conversing, they walked slowly around the open area, in the centre of which stood the patriarchal banyan-tree. Major Rainbold was pondering on what he had heard, when he descried a man, mounted on an enormous elephant, approaching from one of the long and shady avenues running to the river, and immediately called attention to the same. “ Be notalarmed,” said Kavanagh. “ This is an eccentric friend of mine—an American —with whose oddities Iam sure you will be entertained. I had nite forgotten him, hay- ing left him a short distance back, to search for your residence on foot. Growing impa- tient at my long absence, he has followed, doubtless, at a venture. His style of tray- eling is as unique as his character. Here he is!” The man on the elephant now advanced to the banyan-tree ; and Kavanagh, stepping for- ward, said : “ Allow me to introduce to you Mr. Barna- bas Hutton, an enteprising gentleman from the United States of America. Major Rain- bold and Miss Magananer-t “How do you do, Mr. Hutton 2” said the Major, cordially, endeavoring to reach nig’ enough to grasp the hand held out to him by the new comer. “Tm pluribus unum, thank ye! Never mind shakin’; shake arter I git down. How d'ye do, Miss Gregor? Hope you're pluri- bus unum, too? Before Barnabas Hutton alights, we will take a hurried survey of him and his ele- phant. He was dressed in the light and airy garb of a native, and, with his tanned face and hands, looked more like a Sepoy than an American. He had a pleasant, though not handsome countenance. His mouth and nose were large, his cheek-bones rather high, and his face, though thin, was not really sharp, save in its expression. His hair was long, and of alight brown. On his head he wore a military cap, with a pompon in it. He had a short and scattering beard, giving one the impression that the crop had een blighted by an untimely frost. Barnabas Hutton was armed. He had pis- tols and a dagger in his belt, and a sword girt at his loins, and a long native lance in his hand. The elephant was no less an object of re- mark than its owner. Its extraordinary size was suflicient to make it noticeable; not to mention the fancy-painting that appeared on his huge sides and haunches. The American slipped down from the great animal, and seeing that the Major was con- templating it with much interest, immediate- ly became eloquent in its praise. “He's as knowin’ as he is large,” he said, with pride. “You may travel all over In without findin’ his mate. His name is Me- thuselah—called Methuselah on account of his age. He’s lived some’at less nor two hun- dred year. Bought that elephant when I first come to this country. ouldn’t. part with him for his weight ingold. He's a pow- erful consumer, but is strong according.’ “A magnificent animal!” observed the Major. . A portable gallery of the fine arts, too. Got all the gods and goddesses of the country is starboard and larboard quar- ters, the Merican flag on his back, and the Brit- Hydrabad, the Strangler. 3 ish lion and unicorn’on his haunches. Has a fine effect on the native critters, this paintin’ has. Think I’m a great lord, got up without regard to expense, and travelin’ on my own account, carin’ no more for rebellions than I do for the squabblin’s of the little Hindoos that I see tumblin’ about the mud-huts. “T wonder how you can travel in times like these,” said Miss Macgregor. “Well, I have kept sort of close since the diffikilities with the Seboys broke out about the greased cartridges and things. You see left my native shores to set up the business 0 nabob, ride on elephants, trade, speckerlate, make money, and finally marry a live Begum or queen—a kind of female which I under- stand is plenty in these parts,” “T heartily wish you sucess,” said Ida, smiling. “ Bliged to ye, Ma’am, but I've "bout give up the idea of takin’ up witha Begum. The truth is, ’ve got my dander up! I'm goin’ to jine the Englishers, and with this same sword, cut, hack, slash, gash, slay, and put to flight them almighty mean Seboys, who make no more of killin’ a woman nor they do of eatin’ biled rice. They don’t. No!” “ Your resolution is a good one,” said the Major, “and I have no doubt but you and Methuselah will acquit yourselves credit- “Well, I reckon we shall cut our bigness into em’; and that won't be a hole much smaller nor a four-story bungalow, with a veranda all round. _When Methuselah and I come down on the treacherous critters, they'll think that a heathen temple on wheels is arter e’'m!” “This young lady,” said Neal Kavanagh, “has just escaped a most imminent danger. She has been in peril from one of those Phan- sigars or Stranglers, of whom we were. re- cently talking. I had the happiness to reach this spot before the fatal cord had done its work.” “ Bullets and bungalows!” exclaimed Bar- nabas. “I'd like to have Methuselah wind his trunk about twice round that critter’s neck, and give it the giniwine corkscrew twist! What such a low, mean, sneakin’ article o’ human natur was set a runnin’ for, is more’n I know. Weren't you peskily scared, Miss Griggory ?” Ida confessed that she was much terrified. “You couldn’t helped it more’n nothin’! A cord, you see, isn’t jest the right kind of a thing to put round a gal’s neck; leastways, I didn’t use to think so when I went sparkin’ in the United States of Ameriky, which is a thunderin’ long ways from here at the present speakin’; and how I’m to get home with this dodrotted great pile of elephant, the Lord he only knows. But to return to the text, as the missionaries say, what come of the throttlin’ cuss ?” “ He effected his escape into the jungle,” re- plied Kavanagh. “ Shouldn’t wonder if I see the critter as I rid up through the trees. I met a swarthy half-naked chap, with a white rag round his head. He glared at me malicious, and showed the whites of his eyes and the ivory of his teeth in a way J don’t care to see several times.” “Tt was the same!” said Kavanagh. “TfI’'d a knowed it I’d put Methuselah on to him quicker’n a comet could switch its tail! Perhaps you don’t know that this great lump of flesh is nigh about human, and un- cents every wordI say tohim? He does. es ” “Ts he docile?” asked Miss Macgregor, highly amused by the quaintness of Hutton. “ Do-cile. He couldn’t be do-ciler?” Then turning to the elephant: “ Methuselah, give me a boost!’ The colossal creature gently coiled his trunk around the Yankee, and, lifting him steadily, pe him on the top of his head. “Tf I should say the word, he’d set you all up here in a twinklin’. IfT’s to tell him to throw you over. that bungalow, or trample ou under his feet, he’d do it cheerful. If ’s to order him to pull up the trees, tear your house to bits, and play the deuce generally, he’d do it willin’.” “He would ?” « Yes.” “ He must be a great comfort to you!” said the Major, dryly. “A comfort about the size of Juggernot”, replied Barnabas, practically. “It’s true, I can’t take him within doors, but there’s plen- ty o’ room for him outside. He loves me, this mass of flesh does. I’m his fyiend, com- panion, and providence. I cansleepo’ nights atween his great feet insafety. Put me down, Methuselah, and show ’em what you'd doif I should be tackled.” The man spoke in his usual tone of voice; but the sagacious animal seemed to:under- stand his meaning at once. He reached up his supple and potent arm, coiled it again about his master, and set him carefully be- tween his feet; then, emitting a peculiar whistle, and assumimg a menacing attitude, cut the air to the right and left with terrible strokes of his trunk. Miss Macgregor retreated in alarm, and even the brave Rainbold was not ashamed to fall back afew paces. “Don’t be skittish; Miss; he never hurts als, he don’t. No; he’s gentle as a lambor erce as a lion, as I will him to be. He knows his master, and that’s more’n some human critters does.” By this time some of Major Rainbold’s col- ored servants appeared; and Hutton, refusing to part with, his favorite till he was properly taken care of, went away with them, followed by his dumb friend. Major Rainbold and his ward returned to the house, accompanied by Kavanagh, each musing, on \the singular character of the American, as well as of that thrilling adyen- ture which had preceded his coming, and which Ida Macgregor did not now desire to hear mentioned. The’ young man walked by her side in a pleasing dream, alike vague and undefinable. A soft influence was upon him, flowing from the presence and person of Ida Macgregor. He feared to speak, lest the sound: of his voice should dissolve'the spell, and interrupt the bewildering current of his thoughts. He was far from comprehending that sweet mag- netism that was upon him. For the first time in his life; woman assumed, in his’ esti- mation, the graces and characteristics ofa superior being. When he reflected ‘that it had been his fortune to snatch her from dead- ly peril, his heart swelled with gratetilemo- tion. He was almost ready to bless the inci-' dent that offered him the privilege of doing her an important service. Notonly the pres-{ tige of the lady charmed him, but her beauty, flashing suddenly upon him like a sun, nearly blinded him with its dazzling brilliancy. He moved beside her asone might enter a new world. The modest bungalow became a fairy bower, and all its swrroundings were transformed by the new and stwange enchant- ment that possessed him. CHAPTER. Iii. OLD WINE, NECTAR, AND A DRDAM. Neal Kavanagh did not see Melicent:Rain- bold on the night of his arrival, but that young lady was informed by Ida Macgregor of the startling circumstance that had trans- eee The curiosity of Melicent was excited. he was anxious to meet the hero of the ad- venture, and rallied her friend not a little on his appearance at) the right moment. He might have come a minute too soon, or a minute too late; in either of which eyents the golden opportunity -would| liaye. been lost, the romance destroyed, and Love left ‘to awaken at his leisure. twas in this manner that she presented the case to Ida. “ What does this rescuer of maidens look like?” she’ asked, after a free exercise of her wit. He was a plain awkward youth the last time I saw him.” “Indeed, Melicent, I scarcely know how he looks,” answered Ida, gravely; “I should think, however, that he is a straight, military- looking young gentleman, with considerable physical courage.” “Bah! who cares for physical courage! You may as well tell me that he has a good rie retorted Miss Rainbold, disdain- y. A “Physical courage,” said Ida, with warmth, ‘sis a magnificent thing! Let me know that aman is a coward, and I care to know no more of bim.” “The brave deserve the fair; He is brave, and Ida Macgregor is fair! Whatoa good thing logic is!” Miss Rainbold tossed her head, and smiled in her own lofty manner: Melicent Rainbold was a) brunette beauty. Instead of being white asa pearl, she was of that mellow dark .so captivating to the eye. She was ‘like’ old wine, rich and rosy, with the true flavor of Mother Eve.
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4. Ida Macgregor was the nectar of the gods, sweet and ineffable, with the aroma of love lingering about it. Both were perfect in their styles ; but their styles were not alike. One was habitually imperious; the other naturally dignified, and lofty only in mo- ments of excitement. “Your logic,” said Ida, good-humoredly, “is like your raillery—of little account. But, to return to the subject, I do believe this Neal Kavanagh has physical courage.” “Ida,” replied Melicent, somewhat piqued ; “T care not a straw for physical courage! Dogs have courage, haven’t they? The re- volted oy, fight, don’t they, and die? I want to know what description of face he has. But I lose time in asking you. Alethe !” She turned abruptly toa native girl, who was seated on a cushion at her feet; “you saw this hero after he entered the house. Tell me immediately what he is like.” The girl turned upon her mistress a face such as one may not often find, even in India. Her eyes were so large and melting, her mouth so exquisite, her teeth so incompara- ble, her forehead so perfectly molded, her hair so rich and luxurious, her shoulders so round, her neck so arched, her limbs so per- fect, that it was a pleasure to look at her. If Ida were nectar, and Melicent old wine, Alethe was an intoxicating dream. She seemed a creature floating in a sea of tender- ness, drifted to and fro by soft and caressing billows of passion. “ Did you speak, my mistress ?” She spoke in the liquid tones that love it- self might choose for utterance. “Who but I should speak! What was he like, houri?” Both the ladies looked at Alethe. Perhaps each secretly asked if she were as fair. “ As graceful as the bamboo, as straight as the palm, with an eye like a tiger’s,” answered Alethe. ‘ “There !” said Melicent, laughing. “That is more like a description. But it is not enough. Go on, dreamer.” “His countenance és regular and firm ; his eyebrows dark as the hair of a negress ; his lips red and human; a dimple in his chin—” “Tn Heaven’s name, leave out the dimple !” interposed Melicent, impatiently. “A soft suffusion of the cheeks,” resumed Alethe. “Pshaw! That is for a woman,” interrupt- ed Melicent. “What is good for a woman is good for a man, especially about the face, which may be ee. without any reproach to his man- hood.” “Beautiful is the wrong word, you foolish child! It may do for a melting thing like you; but not for an Englishwoman. Give me another turn. Choose your words better.” Miss Rainbold, despite her assumed indiffer- ence, was in reality far more interested than if Alethe had employed words usually appli- ed to masculine attractiveness. The maid knew the mistress. “We have reached his cheeks,” added Ale- the. “Well, they are not much darker than yours. I think his forehead is whiter than yours.” “Ida, bring me a rod! This girl needs chastisement.” “ Whiter than yours, my mistress,” continu- ed Alethe. “When he smiles, you forget that he has another expression. When he frowns, you forget that he has smiled. When he sighs, you would think that Love had come, and that he was dissolving in its delicious ain.” “Will you stop!” exclaimed Melicent, stamping her foot, and blushing. “When his features are in repose, you would imagine that quietude had assumed personality. When he is pensive, you would swear that sweet Sadness had come.” Alethe rolled her voluptuous eyes upon her mistress. The Dream and the Old Wine seemed to affect each other. “You forget the difference between Indian and English blood,” said Melicent, contemp- tuously. “ All blood is the same blood; it is com- posed of the same elements. Woman differs not from woman; but her manifestation is not the same.” : “Stop, parrot! I will not be taught by a dreamy girl. You are a fool!” “Yes, we Se all maidens are fools; they were born to be fools. She who is nota fool, is not what she was born to be,” Hydrabad, the Strangler, : Alethe sighed, and looked at her own small eet. “ Miss Macgregor, why don’t you say some- thing? Is this tawny creature wise or other- wise?” Ida looked at Alethe, then placidly shutting her eyes, answered : “The girl is wiser than youorI. You call her your slave ; but much I doubt if she has not a wider empire than you or your father’s ward.” “That has the flavor of truth, which is a miserable thing. Alethe, poison yourself within a few days!” “When my mistress bids me,” answered Alethe, meekly. “Ida, we gain nothing from this girl. She makes a most dangerous trinity. She should be sent away, or disfigured by disease. There is, you know, one glory of the sun, one glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars. Some like one glory, others another. And yet,” added Miss Rainbold, with a haughty curl of the lips, “we are Englishwomen! Is it not enough to be an Englishwoman?” She aused. “I will tell you what we will do, iss Macgregor. We will test the shrewdness and gallantry of this Neal Kavanagh. To- morrow morning, after breakfast, we will saunter from the bungalow, without word or sign, or intimation, and stroll with all our careless graces down the avenue of palms, tow- ard the river, and see if he will know enough to follow. This melting creature shall go with us, to carry our fans and our shawls, and our books, perchance, and above all—” Melicent laid a white finger on Ida’s arm: “To look out for Thugs, and note the high bearing of unexpected heroes.” “Or, possibly,” retorted Ida, with a quiet raising of the eyebrows, “the coming of Ray- nor Bracegirdle ; the young gentleman des- tined alike to fill your dreams and your heart.” “Miss Macgregor, you are becoming odious. You had better retire to your own apartment. This room is now too large for Alethe and me. Good night!” Melicent kissed her hand to Ida, and sur. camer herself to the gentle hands of Ale. . CHAPTER IV. THE TIGER. Miss Rainbold and Miss Macgregor, attend- ed by Alethe, repaired to the juugle, as had been previously arranged by the former somewhat fanciful young lady. Warned by the incident of the evening be- fore, Hafiz, a native youth of fifteen, was in- structed by Melicent to keep within sight and call, and advise them of the approach of any one not pertaining to the family. alking beneath a canopy of foliage, the conversation turned upon Kavanagh, and the American and his elephant; while Alethe followed silently. Ida, it was observable, was not inclined to discourse freely of the Lieutenant, although he was the very subject from which Melicent expected to derive entertainment. The latter | t declared that he was not so handsome as she had been led to believe by the unreliable and provoking Alethe. In short, she intimated that she was disappointed in his appearance ; and were it not for the danger that continu- ally menaced them from the Rebels, his pres- ence would not be very desirable. That she insinuated more than she meant, the quiet ra of Miss Macgregor sufliciently indi- cated. “Tam too indolent to walk further,” said Melicent ; “ Alethe, spread the shawls.” The shawls were placed, the young ladies became seated beneath a palm-tree, and the girl, reclining gracefully before them, moved the air lazily with a large fan of peacock’s feathers. For atime they abandoned them- selves to the drowsy influence of the fragrant tropical atmosphere. “Keep your large eyes open,” sighed Melicent, playfully, “for Stranglers and young English officers.” “T beg of you, my friend, not to jest on that shocking subject. The face of that assassin has haunted my sleep,” said Ida, shivering at the fearful remembrance. “Tf it really pains you, I will desist,” re- plied Melicent, with more seriousness. At that moment Alethe laid down the fan. = a creature,” said her mistress, tulantly, “your mere existence makes you appy- I cannot bear people who are made happy by simply living.” “What is thé matter?” asked Ida, looking at Alethe, whose countenance had suddenly changed. Melicent, partially aroused from her lan- guor by this question, glanced at the girl, whose cheeks were now pale, whose lips were parted, and whose eyes were glassed with fear. Alethe did not speak. She kept her dilated eyes fixed which was in a direction directly behind her mistress, and on an angle that carried the focus some twenty yards distant. Melicent and Ida followed the suggestive ze of the girl, and beheld an object caleu- ated to inspire the wildest feeling of terror. A superb tiger was crouched on the ground, at the distance we have mentioned, gently beating the rank grass with his tail. His mouth was partially open, displaying a por- tion of his red tongue and sweltering lips. Although he was looking at the group, his mood was quiet,and his eyes did not dart those fiery glances that he shoots forth when angry. He was a marvel of beauty and ape As he lay there, lolling like a dog, Ida Macgregor, despite her fears, was struck and fascinated by the symmetry of his shape and the majesty of his mien. She gazed at him ina transport of admiration and terror. In the madness of both these emotions, she was tempted to arise, approach the magnifi- cent creature, and lay her hand on his prince- ly head. Melicent, perceiving the danger, grew white as snow ; and, with her face set in arigid and stony stare, gradually swayed toward Ida, until her person found support upon her bosom. Alethe, who had first discovered the glossy haired scourge of India, was slowly recover- ing her self-possession. Her chest swelled, and her form trembled like one suddenly re- suscitated from death. “Do not move,” she whispered. “Keep your eyes fixed on the efes of the tiger! Catch his gaze, and you can hold him there, if you are firm.” “Thave not nerve enough!” gasped Ida. “Melicent! Melicent! You are strong and imperious; meet this royal beast with your royal gaze.” Melicent’s head moved with a negative motion, but her blanched lips were mute. “He stirs! he stirs!’ murmured Alethe warningly. “The dreadful beast looks at you. I cannot seize upon his eyes,” said Ida, faintly. “Speak not! I have him! I will hold him back till help come,” whispered Alethe. Ida looked at the girl, then at the tiger. An expression of curiosity seemed to rest on the brow of the lordly creature, he saw some- thing in the melting eyes of Alethe that ex- ercised a strong influence on his fierce nature. He was fascinated, awed. Alethe held him in magnetic chains that his great limbs could not rend asunder. He ceased to lash the ground with his tail, which now lay upon the grass, as if its proud owner was in doubt whether to display fear, anger, or uncertain- oer beheld this mute conflict of eyes with trembling suspense, not daring to move a limb or utter a sound ; either might break the spell. are for Melicent, she scarcely breathed ; yet saw, sensed, heard everything. ‘The nearness and imminency of the peril had paralyzed her. “ How long is this to continue ?” Ida men- tally queried. “ How long before the mighty animal will shake off the shackles of the human will, and tear us ?” She glanced toward the bungalow for hope and help. No one was in sight. Not a friend- ly familiar form greeted her vision. The or- eal was every moment growing more pain- ful. She scarcely dared to turn her regards again upon Alethe; she feared to see her shrinking and withering under the burning gaze of the beast, like a frail leaf in the scorching sun. But the girl was calmer, stronger, and more sublime in her strange strength. Her glorious eyes seemed starry furnaces, melting the ferocity of the beast. Melicent shivered; a spasmodic thrill passed over her that Ida could feel. A faint red flush appeared, too, on her cheeks. Ida remarked a singular intensity in her hitherto fixed and glassy eyes —@ sudden fing up of a a as i the hd bad of een instantaneous tored after & period of blindness. er on @ certain point, — oh
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Hydrabad, the Strangler. : 5 Ida, looking over her left shoulder, follow- ing the direction of her thrilling gaze, beheld the straight firm figure of Neal Kavanagh nearer the tiger than herself or companions. He had wound a sash around his left arm, and held in his right hand along sharp Ma- lny dagger. His face was pale, but resolute. da’s heart nearly stopped beating. She unselfishly forgot personal peril ; from the in- stant of the discovery of Kavanagh, she thought of him only. She held her breath in enticipation of a shocking spectacle. Now that her eyes were on the young officer and the tiger, she could not withdraw them. She felt Melicent clinging to her, and her hot breath on her face; she was glowing with a new and more concentrated life called out of her stony trance and inspired by the presence of Kazanagh. Ida gave him a look of earnest entreaty. Ile ce mprehended her, smiled faintly, and made a negative motion of the head. This calmness Was surprising. The tiger grew uneasy. He scented Kava- nagh, and, with a warning growl, lifted him- self upon his feet. A slight rustling of the leaves had admonished him of the nearness of the Lieutenant, and broken Alethe’s spell. The royal beast had now dif- ferent eyes to deal with ; eyes cool, stern, un- flinching, and threatening. Ida wished for unconsciousness, temporary abeyance of life—oblivion, blindness—any- thing to shut out the scene The crisis approached. The tiger softly and slowly settled upon his fore-feet ; his tail waved in the air like a hostile banner; his lithe body undulated with impatience; his eyes glowed like spheres of fire, while his epen mouth displayed white rows of cruel teeth and a tongue red as blood. Ida saw him rise with a bound and shoot through the air; she saw Kavanagh spring aside, and the gleam of steel; but after that, for a few seconds, neither man nor beast were distinguishable. There was a whirl and roll, an eddy, a vortex, a whirl of motion in the grass; then presently, when her eyes were nearly sightless with suspense and ter- ror, Kavanagh arose, panting and bloody, with the Malay dagger in his hand. The tiger was stretched on the ground—its great limbs trembling in the tremors of death und ifs glorious eyes glassing over. Kav- anagh gazed at his royal foe a moment, wlanced at Ida, tottered, and fell beside the expiring tiger. CHAPTER V. HYDRABAD. Neal Kavanagh had no sooner fallen than Barnabas Hutton appeared at the spot, ridin his elephant. He was not a little astonishe at seeing so many pale faces, nor was his sur- prise diminished when Methuselah, with an tmgry whistle, rushed to the scene of the en- counter, and seizing the tiger in his trunk, held him aloft in air. Perceiving soon that the tiger did not struggle, he tossed him into the jungle with an indignant cry, and turned his attention to Kavanagh, who was lying quite still. It was then that the noble animal displayed that intelligence which has rendered its spe- cies famous in every country where it is known. He lifted the Lieutenant carefully. The arm of woman could not have encircled him more gently. He set him upon his feet, and seeing that he could not immediately main- tain his footing, made a mournful noise. The friendly offices of the elephant were not in vain; the motion started his blood and yestored his consciousness. Grasping the trusty trank of the animal, he soon managed to support himself; which encouraging symptom appeared to give Methuselah the liveliest pleasure. In the interim, Miss Macgregor had arisen; and now, impelled by every instinct of her sex, advanced to the assistance of Neal Kay- anagh. However benevolent her intentions. Methuselah could not so well judge of them 23 his master, and made a remonstrative 1ovement as the young lady approached. “ None o’ that, old boy!” exclaimed Barna- bas, who had thought proper to maintain a sirict silence during the foregoing act and ministrations of Methuselah. “'That isn’t the kind of animile as young English officers are afraid of. They’d sooner, a durn sight, yun arter ’em than from ’em. Let her come, | old chap, and I'll wager your trunk chock full of sweetmeats that she'll bring him round quicker’n you can turn a summerset back’ards.” Barnabas slid down from his mountain of flesh; and Methuselah, without further care- mony, set Kavanagh between his great flap ping ears, and would have soon placed the oung lady beside him, had not his master interposed ; his trunk being already around her waist “That uever’ll do,” said Barnabas. A boy seven years old would know better’n that. How’d you s’pose he’s goin’ to stick on up there? Goin’ to et the gal up to hold him on, wasn’t ye? eant well ‘nough, I dessay, but Englishwomen is pertick’lar "bout bein’ boosted to the backs of elephants.” Methuselah fixed his twinkling eyes on his master; and relinquishing Ida, reached up and replaced the Lieutenant on his feet. Meanwhile, Miss Rainbold and Alethe had arisen, and the latter came forward to offer assistance. The former had not recovered from her fright, but Kavanagh had assumed new interest in her sight. The very quali- ties she had affected to think lightly of had suddenly made him a hero in her esteem. She was about to ask if he was wounded, when Ida anticipated the question. Neal Kavanagh, who was now supported by the American, answered with some difti- culty, that he believed his arm was slightly injured. Barnabas, who was very quick and handy in all cases of emergency, unwound the sash from Neal’s arm, and made himself acquaiated with the nature of his wounds. “You may call this ere a slight ri ba he said, with a knowing shake of the head; “but in the country where I come from, the doctors would call this arm a chawed up consarn.”” “Let him be taken to the house at once,” said Ida; “he bleeds frightfully! What shall we do for a surgeon?” “Doctors are plaguey scarce hereabouts,” replied Barnabas, “ but where I come from every other house has a doctor in’t. The fact is, they have so many that they’re sick nigh on to all the time. Both male and female buys a notomy and a book when they’ve turned fifteen, and arter that practyses doctor's stuff on their own account. Don't know as I should left Ameriky if there hadn’t been sich a stannin’ army of botanicst eclectics, homopaths, and mineral pisoners. If we only had a dose o’ marcury to give this soger-boy, I rather think ’twould fetch him round arter a spell o’ sickness. It would. Yes!” Melicent was about making an impatient reply, when a gentleman on horseback, guid- ed by a native, reached the spot. It was Na Bracegirdle—the person referred to by Miss Macgregor, in a bantering way, on the previous night, and, as it was generally understood or surmised, the prospective hus- band of Major Rainbold's daughter. Be this as it may, his arrival, so far as his personal vanity was concerned, was at an inauspicious moment—Neal Kavanagh being Gealiy the hero of the hour, the centre of thought and attention. Melicent greeted him hurriedly and coldly, barely troubling herself to inform him what had happened, with her eyes on the sufferer the while, giving orders that could not be obeyed, asking questions that could not be answered, and making suggestions utterly impracticable. r. Bracegirdle was not flattered by his reception. Dismounting, he threw his bridle to a servant, and taking a position where he could see what was transpiring, looked moodily on. Hafiz, who had kept conveniently out of the way when wanted, crept up to him and entertained him with a detailed account of the affair; and ended by pointing to the body of the tiger. Bracegirdle felt more uncom- fortable than before. In plain sight was a handsome English officer, who h actually slain a tiger with a dagger! This was a splendid achievement; an exploit almost un- heard of in the history of tiger-hunting. This marvel was performed under the ye eyes of Beauty. Miss Rainbold witnesse it; Miss Macgregor witnessed it, and that dreamy creature of the large eyes witnesseA it. The splendid brute was killed in their defence. ‘The lucky officer had done just what a young gentleman should do to com- mence a love-affair ramantically—periled his own life ; destroyed a beast that ought not to have been destroyed with a dagger; and lastly, saved the pretty trembling creature from being torn in pieces. The more Mr. Bracegirdle thought of it, the less he liked it. Meanwhile, the native who had guided him to the Major’s bungalow joined the circle around Kavanagh, and, for a space, looked on with seeming indifference. By and by, he approached Kavanagh, and began to examine his wounded arm. Hutton beheld this action with some displeasure. “Go “long, Hindu, go “long!” he said. “You know a durned sight more about eased cartridges than you do about tiger- ites, or boar-bites, or lion-bites, or snake- bites, or any other bites you can mention.” “Sahib,” answered the native, quietly, “I know something concerning wounds.” “Are you a doctor?” asked Melicent, eagerly. “Lady,” he replied, respectfully, “God has given me the knowledge of healing herbs and fite-giving drugs. His name be praised !” Attracted by the sound of his voice, Miss Macgregor now turned and looked at his features, which, though very dark, were ae lar, and not destitute of a certain kind of dig- nity. His deportment was unassuming and deferential. hen he replied to Melicent’s query, he bent his body, and did not lift his eyes to her face. “Hindu,” interposed Barnabas, “ confine yourself mostly to the airth, where those same roots and yerbs grow ; and not let your fancy fly off to a region where, in my opinion, they’re mostly ogg a to ye. ou native critters a’n’t apt to be over an’ above pious ; so, if you know anything, tackle the chawed arm at onct.” The native quietly surveyed the American from head to foot; then turned, undisturbed, to the examination of the arm. “ You may look on’t, and feel on’t, Hindu, and scowl on't, if you want to,” continued Barnabas, “ but it'll have to be sawed off at the second j'int, as true as you're a heathen ! It will. Yes!” : Ida glanced quickly at Barnabas’s grave face. “You certainly cannot mean it, Mr. Hut- ton!” she said. Then to the native: “If you have any skill, Sir, exercise it as quickly as may be; for, as you see, Mr. Kavanagh is losing much blood.” “Lady, I am your slave,” answered the native, with a profound obeisance. “Native,” said Barnabas, touching the Doetor’s shoulder, “before you commence potterin’ round the boy, tell us your name.” The man did not notice the touch nor the question, but hastily seizing the sash which lay on the ground beside him, wound it about the bleeding arm with great dexterity. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me?” added Barnabas. The native kept at his work. “Methuselah,” said Barnabas, looking into the hk mp AS do of the elephant, who had not changed his position since his friendly ef- forts in behalf of the sufferer ; “ here’s a na- tive that’s lost his tongue. Show him your’n !” The Yankee od the animal lightly on his nether jaw, and he opened a mouth that was enormous. The native fastened the sash and arose, un- conscious, seemingly, that the American had addressed him. Ida came to the aid of Bar- nabas : “Friend,” she said, in a winning voice, “names are convenient; besides, they are sometimes better than letters of introduction.” “Lady,” he answered, humbly, “I am called Hybrabad ; but it is not an illustrious name. have practiced my art among my native hills, and am little known out of them, Iam what 1am; and whocan be more? I am Hydrabad and thy slave.” As the native ceased speaking, his eyes fell upon Alethe, who was contemplating him earnestly. He averted his gaze hastily ; and for an instant his serenity was disturbed. “Sahib,” he turned to Hutton, “let the wounded man be carried at once to the bun- galow.” “t's the most sensible thing you've said, Doctor Hydrabad,” replied Barnabas. “Give me a toss, Methuselah, and then put up the hoy right gingerly, and I'll hold him safe. Carefully, old boy, carefully! Handle him as you would an egg. That's it! Keep a stiff upper lip, Lieutenant. You've done some’at to-day that'll make you famous ag long as you live. It isn’t every lad as can
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_ been no more, this simple fact was sufficient 6 Hydrabad, the Strangle kill a tiger with a dagger. It’s a rotted sight | better than a slap at them Seboys. If you want to go into the business of tloer-killin’, I'd like to jine you as a silent partner.” Kavanagh laughed, and followed with his eyes the figure of Miss Macgregor, who, atl- tended by Bracegirdle and Melicent, was moving toward the house, where he, anon, through the good offices of Methuselah, ar- rived, to the great surprise of Major Rain- bold, who tail been sleeping during the whole affair. Being an eminently practical man, he quickly had Neal Kayanagh proper- ly provided for, and Hydrabad was permit- ted to dress his wound, which he did with gentleness and dexterity, and to the relief of the patient, who, being philosophical, did not much régret what had happened. Passively submitting himself to Hydrabad, of whose fitness or skill he knew little and cared less, he sought and found an inward balm in the thought that Ida Macgregor had twice been saved by his hand. CHAPTER VI THE DEADLY DROP. If Raynor Bracegirdle had visited Major Rainbold’s residence in the expectation of delightful love-scenes and téte-a-tétes with Mélicent, he was bitterly disappointed. That young lady had never manifested a very marked preference for him ; yet it had been agreed upon tacitly, perhaps, by the provi- dent fathers, that she was to unite her fortunes with his. The pair had often met, although their interviews had not of late been fre- quent. For a few my he strolled about the grounds with the Major, and amused himself as well as he could, trusting that the coy fair one would, in due time, treat him with less indifference... But this desirable change did not come. While he hourly grew more en- amored, she, apparently, grew more cold and haughty. Raynor Bracegirdle. began to feel a burn- ing jealousy of Neal Kavanagh. The latter was unknown to, him. . Their first meetin, wus in the jungle, where the tiger h been slain; a meeting which he inwardly cursed the remembrance of. Cordially, he wished this military young gentleman in the society of a personage so universally obnox- ious to mankind, that we will not name him. He grew morbid on the subject. He made wild conjectures, then turned those conjec- tures into realities: a cheap way of making one’s self miserable... Raynor Bracegirdle soon believed everything that jealousy could suggest, It may be sately affirmed that the devil took possession of Raynor Bracegirdle. ‘Never were the fiercer and darker elements of his nature so aroused. At the end of three days, it was his fixed iaea that Kavanagh was his rival, and would bear off in triumph the woman he loved. Bracegirdle had passed nearly all his life in India. His father had been a government ofticial, rolled up a fortune, and retired to a comfortable quietude, to live out his appoint- ed days luxuriously. Raynor had free access to the paternal purse, had his own way, was violent in temper and imperious in disposi- tion, beat the native servants, managed to get into all kinds of difficulties, and sowed bad wild oats generally. But Bracegirdle, senior, was a nabob; and Bracegirdle, junior, the son. of a, nabob. _ Now, it is not to be supposed that the son of a, nabob was going to stand any nonsense about-his love-affairs.. He never doubted but he was entitled to success ; nor did it occur to him at the time of his arrival, that any one would be so presumptuous as to dispute with him, the hand of any lady he might fancy.. But, as he had brought himself to think, Neal Kayanagh had thrust himself between Meli- cent iad his pretensions. One thing was true beyond cayil; a handsome young officer was in Major, Rainbold’s household, receiving the kindest attentions of the ladies. Had there to excite his jealousy and hatred. To succeed. with Melicent, the removal of Kavanagh he belieyed indispensable. How could Kayanagh be remoyed? He smoked out many of the Major's best cigars while de- ciding this point; and ended by throwing himself in the way of the native, Hydrabad, who had aeted as his emia through the jun- gle on the morning of his coming, and whose Services were retained by the Lieutenant. r. He had attempted more than once to study the character of Hydrabad, but with unsatis- | factory results. e now resolved to subject him to a searching analysis. Hydrabad was walking among the palm- trees, his eyes fixed upon the earth, his dark lips moving at intervals. His garb was of rich material, and picturesque. The turban that crowned his brown brow was of white muslin, ornamented with golden embroidery. The contrast between the bronze skin and white fabric was marked. His flowin trowsers of dark green silk were fastene near the ankle by a silver cord. His ankles and the portions of his feet left exposed by the sandals were covered by wrought buskins of morocco. ‘The upper part of his person was clad in a loose and not ungraceful garment of the same color as his trowsers, falling nearly to the knee, and secured at the waist by a leather girdle, tastefully embossed, and buckled in front with a silver buckle. In this girdle was thrust a creese, with a handle of mother-of-pearl, surmounted by a moon- stone of extraordinary transparency. Lying on his dark throat, attached to a cu- rious silken cord passing around his neck, was a flaming carbuncle, which, at a little distance, looked like a spot of blood. Such was the outward state of Hydrabad. Raynor Bracegirdle considered in what manner he should address him, admiring his sinewy figure as he walked to and fro. “ Hydrabad,” said Raynor, “ why do you walk and mutter ?” Hydrabad stopped, and looking at the questioner, answered : “Youn Hinglihman, why do you some- times walk and mutter?” “ When you are questioned, Hydrabad, you should answer, and not question again,” add- ed Raynor, coldly. “ When I walk, I scarce- ly know whether I mutter or not ; but if such be the case, it cannot be from content.” “Why, then, do you question me? If you know how to judge of men’s actions, what need of wanting breath in vain words ? What is it you would say to me ?” By eae, contrary to his usual *custom, lifted his eyes to a level with Raynor’s. They were large eyes, with large whites and long black lashes ; while the pupils were restless and ai ae Bracegirdle searched his brain vainly for the key to those mysterious orbs. “ What is there that I should say to one of your degree?” he replied. “And yet there was something I would have proposed when I first saw you walking here.” “T knew there was!” said Hydrabad. “Do you pretend to supernatural power ?” asked Raynor, with covert contempt. “ Tt is the impostor that pretends,” respond- ed the native. “I pretend to nothing. There are matters that you would talk of; now is your hour.” _ Hydrabad drew his creese from his girdle, aud gazed at the moonstone in the handle. “What see you in the moonstone?” sneered Bracegirdle. “ No matter!” answered Hydrabad, sullen- ly. “I see what you wot not of.” Hydrabad turned on his heel to move weit 8 ‘ “Not yet,” said Bracegirdle. “How is your patient, and how prospers quackery ?” “ Both prosper,” retorted Hydrabad, with a disdainful glance, “as well as your wooing !” “Fellow,” exclaimed Raynor, “you pre- sume somewhat on your relations with this family, and my good-nature. Know, tawny slave, that lam ofacholeric temper ; and my hand, ere now, has been as quick as my wrath. Your dark race swarms my father’s house; and, if a yellow face now and then disappears, who is the wiser for it?” ‘rhe countenance of Hydrabad underwent a change sudden and startling. For an in- stant his eyes shot vengeful glances at Brace- girdle. The sense ofa great wrong seemed resting upon him. But the glow of enger, malice, a consciousness of injustice, or what- ever it might be, passed as quickly as it came. “The Europeans are our masters,” he said, gloomily. “How long before Kavanagh will recov- er?” asked Raynor. “Whenever it is the will of God!” replied the native. “Look you, Hydrabad! Do such wounds ever prove fatal ?” Bracegirdle tried to speak casey: but was not so much an adept in dissimulation as to deceive the person he was adi . “The tooth of 4 tigeris by many esteemed oisonous,’ answered Hydrabad, looking ownward. A bright red flush leaped to Bracegirdle’s cheeks. “ Did the teeth sink deeply into the flesh ?” he demanded. “So deeply that they met, and the bones were splintered.” Bracegirdle drew nearer to Hydrabad. He assumed a different tone and manner. “ Would it be strange,” he asked; “ would it be an unheard-of thing; would it be a matter to be talked of, orinquired into, ifthis voung man’s arm should become dreadfully inflamed and swollen, and ultimate in gan- grene and death?” Hydrabad was silent. He appeared to muse. He answered, presently : “ All this might be, and no suspicion be aroused.” “Suspicion!” said Bracegirdle, quickly, almost angrily. “Who spoke of suspicion? Why should there be suspicion ?” “Of foul play; of secret practices,” re- turned Hydrabad, quietly. , “Dare you speak thus to me, fellow?) Would you implicate me in such a thought ?” “J dare, and do! For this purpose you sought me. You came to offer many rupees for the removal of the handsome European,” answered Hydrabad, in a voice perfectly un- moved. Bracegirdle, shone annoyed and alarmed at the sagacity of the native, prudently checked the hasty denial that rose to his lips, and, reflecting a moment, said : “Tf I had such a purpose, I'll warrant that Hydrabad, the native doctor, is the person to fulfill it. There is a prophecy of cunning and evil in your face.” “Talk on, Englishman! My feelings are aot so tender that you will wound them. The diversion of a few ounces of blood from a given channel, and the stopping of the pulsa- tions of a large red muscle, are to me things of little consequence. I care not who dies, if so be I but live myself. There are too many eople on the earth. I would they were re- Raed to one half, or one fourth, or even one eighth of their present number. It would then be a world worth living in.” Hydrabad’s face grew animated, and his smile was cold and an Raynor drew back. The air was chillier, he thought. “Hydrabad,” he said, “ you should -be of that accursed people called Phansigars or Stranglers !” The native’s hands moved uneasily ; first to the silken cord around his neck, then to the leathern girdle about his loins. Raynor could see the muscles of his arms quivering against the silken sleeves that covered them. ef i Hydrabad, you should have been a U ? “You,” retorted Hydrabad, scornfully, “would never have had courage to be a Child ofthe Cord! You may be able to strike down a slave with your dagger, when the law is all on your side ; but put danger before you, and secrecy of purpose long to be persisted in, death and execration to be dared, and your arm would have no more strength in it than a broken reed.” “Keep your opinions till I ask for them! said Bracegirdle, haughtily. “It is notlong, he added, since Miss Macgregor came near being strangled by one of that horrible race ; and it was the fortune of this same Neal Kay- anagh to snatch her from fate. But he left his work half done, pride himself on it as he may: he did not kill the wretch. Had I been in his place, I would have slain the vampyre, even had I to rend him with teeth and hands, and drag his heart with unarmed fingers from his vile body !” “Be not too sure of that, answered Hydra- bad, scowling. “His muscles are firmer than ours, and his courage none can doubt ; while, in the art of love, he stands pre-eminently above you.” The wily native pronounced these words in a manner most likely to be offensive to his auditor; and did not err in his judgment. _ “It were not safe to beard me thus, if I did not need you!” exclaimed Bracegirdle. Walk down toward the river, under the paln- trees, that I may not be seen talking with you, and we will settle the number of the rupees.” “T care not who sees us; and as for rupees, Tam not gréatly in want of them. I will do your work, however, if you pay well and cross not my mood.”
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He placed his back against the trunk of the yanyan-tree, under. which this conversation 1ad taken place; and, crossing his arms over his breast, looked moodi.y toward the river, whose murmuring waters could be heard, Much was passing in the dark mind of Hy- drabad: ; “IT know not whether you may be safely . trusted, but I do know that if you deal falsely with me, the pistol wr the dagger shall be your reward. I care not,” he continued, speaking low and rapidly, “that this man should actually die; that is, if there be any other method of gettizg him out of my path. As he now is, he is my misery and my curse. ‘he woman I Jove has, for his sake, forgotten me. She treats me with coldness, scorn, in- difference. If he wer removed, my lost po sition might be regaixed. I say nothing of death—mark that !” Hydrabad shrugg¢? his shoulders, and darted a glance of contempt at) the speak er “Take him from iy sight, my hearing, from here,” resumed Hracegirdle, with bitter earnestness; “and I will give you a thou- sand rupees. But notice this: there is to be no distrust, no lurking doubt, no breath of suspicion, no thought, near or remote, that I am in any manner concerned or implicated in what happens.” “I understand,” said Hydrabad, icily ; “the girl must not think you a murderer. You would not pay a thousand rupees to be thought a murderer. — It is plain and reason- able. Listen! I know an herb so potent, that if but a drop of the juice of the green leaf be dropped into a wound it will inoculate the whole system with death.” “Will it be sudden?” asked Raynor, un- der his breath. No,” answered Hydrabad. “Were I to strangle you with a cord, that would be sud- den; for in three minutes you would be dead ; but he who is three days in dying, dies not suddenly.” “Is the secret of this herb much known?” Raynor glanced anxiously at the native. “Only to a few learned native doctors, and they care not to communicate a knowl- edge so dangerous. | But there are a thousand ways of nae what every one is desirous of continuing. Nothing is so brittle as that thing called life. One may die of a kiss. An odor may kill; a puncture of the skin may kill. A thought may kill like a sword.” Hydrabad paused, then said, by and by: ** Yet for all these methods and devices I care not; neither for fire and stcel.” Again his fingers sought the cord about his neck, and triéled with it nervously. Bracegirdle could not comprehend him. “Remain with me no longer,” said Hydra- bad. “Give me u hundred rupees, as a pledge of your good faith. There is no bar- gain without something to bind it. If I do it not well, pay me no more; and you shall be judge whether I do it well or no."' Bracegirdle gave him yen a and, with a guilty consciousness at his heart, hurried trom the spot. CHAPTER VII. THE INDIAN VIOLIN—A SECRET JOURNEY. Alethe, from the time of the coming of Hydrabad, lost no opportunity of observing: him. ‘There was that about him which ex- cited distrust and dislike. His embarrass- ment on first seeing her was not forgotten. Persuaded that he was there by no accident and for no good, all his movements were closely looked to; and when she could not herself watch him, Hafiz was kept faithful dogging him; for he was naturally shrewd, and endowed with the subtlety of his race. He discharged the part assigned him to the great acceptance of Alethe, receiving from her not only thanks but rupees. So well did the girl conceal her distrust and disguise her repugnance of Hydrabad, that the latter not only ceased to be confused in her presence, but began to feel much at ease, and favor her with tender glances. So far as silence and passivity could encourage, she encouraged him ; and that was quite suf- ficient to lure him on tv flatteries and protes- tations; all of which she heard demurely, artfully keeping her purpose out of sight. Once she permitted him to find her alone inthe garden. He brought with him an In- dian violin, and after tuning it, played with and passionate melody, making the instru- ment express all the emotions of the human mind, It wept and wailed; it prayed to Alethe. It was now soft and melting ; it was now quick and vehement ; and anon, sobbed with-passion ; ioye, poetry, and thrilling ten- derness poured from the strings. He stole nearer, his large eyes full of pa- thos. He tried to catch her gaze ; but Alethe; wise in the arts of adepts, gave him no such advantage. He sang —not words, but a succession of sounds, mellow and musical, and varied to express the different emotions that swept over him. Alethe allowed him to exhaust his tender fury without interruption. “You sing and play well, no doubt ; but you are a teacher,” she said, with compos- ure. Hydrabad frowned a little, and cast the instrument from him. “Is this the answer you make, maiden,” he pete “Ts it thus that you reply to Hydra- ad 2? “ Have I not praised your skill? ITs it not enough? Do you hold my judgment in such slight esteem that my commendations go for nothing?” replied Alethe. “Love, fair maiden, is not satisfied with such meagre return. It wants sigh for sigh, and sentiment, for sentiment.” Hydrabad sighed, and looked at the girl’s small feet with his deyouring eyes. “ Wydrabad—if your name be Hydrabad,” answered Alethe, with spirit; ‘spare your music and your voice for more appreciative ears. Tomeitisnaught. Let your PESERDD, tion cease here. I am not of your kind. You are to me as the wild boar with tusks, or as the sharp-toothed ghoul that sucks blood from the taroat. Keep, your distance, Sir Hydrabad! If you do not, I have a little dagger under my bodice that shall teach you respect.” Hydrabad was at first amazed, and showed his disappointment ; but before she had done speaking, he was as calm as ever. “Tt was but a jest, disdainful maiden,” he said, with more of humility. “I was exhib- iting my skill and not my sentiments. I will be careful to give you no further cause of complaint.” “See that you keep your word,” answered Alethe, springing into the verandah. Could she haye glanced over her shoulder, and seen the expression on the yellow visage of Hy- drabad, with all her courage and cunning she would have trembled. He clenched his hands, set his long teeth together, and glared after the vanishing form of the girl. It was immediately after this scene that Raynor Bracegirdle found him walking and muttering among the trees, in a mood for any evil-doing that might offer. About fifteen minutes after that strange conference, Alethe left the bungalow, attired for a journey, and walked swiftly toward the bamboo huts of the native servants, of whom Major Rain- bold kept quite a number. As she passed along, she saw Barnabas Hutton amusing himself with some of the native children. She at once approached him. * American,” she said, in her musical voice, “can you keep a secret? Can I trust you?” “IfTI can’t, Brownie, it’s because I can’t git one to keep. Jest produce a few of ’em, and see if I don’t fasten to’em like a dog to a root. Trust me? Well now, I allow if Barnabas Hutton, of the United States of Ameriky, can’t be trusted, there’s nobody in Ingy that can! You ’pear pesky queer ’bout somethin’, Speak up, Brownie, and tell me all about it.” “ Mr. Hutton,” answered Alethe, promptly and firmly, “it is necessary that [ should make a journey, between this and morning, of many English miles. I wish to make such haste, that my absence shall not be remarked by any. My errand is most important and pressing. I look to you for assistance and secrecy.” “You're a handsome gal, and a well-be- haved, and I don’t mind sayin’ that I’m at your saryice. 1 ain’t, perhaps, a lady’s man | so much as some, but Ill be dodrotied if I don’t like the pretty dears. You’rein airnest and that’s a fact. I see the real grit in them splendiferous eyes. Now, Brownie, give me the word o’ command, and I’m right about ' face, eyes right, hayfoot, strawfoot, in the much skill. ' He selected for a theme a wild | qustin’ of a biler!” “Get your elephant, Mr. Hutton, and lead him yonder.” Hydrabad, the Strangler. heads. 7 “Tn'a twinklin’, Miss. But I'd caution ye to have an eye on them ’tarnal Scboys, who wouldn’t mind doin’ ye a mischief; least- ways, they wouldn’t me.” “We'll keep clear of the Sepoys, Sahib,” replied Alethe. arnabas started off with alacrity, and, anon, appeared at the designated spot with the elephant. “ Make him kneel,” said the girl. “He can clap his arm round your little waist and put you up as gently as you'd ever wish to be handled,” answered the accommo- dating proprietor of the elephant. “ Make hin kneel, Sahib !” repeated Alethe, impatiently. “ Lord Sines you, yes! Down, old boy, down! There’s a load goin’ to git onto ye now, that'll be likely to give ye the rheu- maticks, I guess. ope ‘twon't stop your growth, by gracious ! p, little ’un, up. It’s jest as easy as ‘tis runnin’ up the roof of a house. There you go, like a squirrel! Well, I'd no idee you’s so spry, Brownie. ‘These Hindu gals are surprisin’ when they’re on their muskle. Now settle yourself all right. Room enough, ain’t there? I sometimes walk round when I get tired settin’. You might lay out two city house-lots and a garden up there, and: have enough left for a driveway. Now you look comfortable. Want me to go, I 8'pose ?” Alethe smiled, and said : * Of course, Sahib !” Barnabas Hutton sprang upon his favorite’s back, the animal arose, and the girl indicated the direction. It was nearly dark; or, more properly, as dark as the Indian nights ar¢ wont to be, for the moon and the stars render them very soft and pleasant. The enormous animal started off at a roll- ing, monotonous pace. “ This,” said Alethe, “ will never do. One might run faster. You must know, my friend, that we are on a business of life and death, and every moment’s delay throws the balance into the wrong scale.” “You shall have it your own way, Miss,” replied Hutton, in the best of humor; and speaking’ to the beast in those tones which long companionship iad rendered him fa- miliar with, he increased his speed in a very remarkable manner, Pursuing a road not much traveled, they swept over highland and lowland, passed wet jungle and dry, toward a long range of hills lying far in the distance before them. | As the night drew on and grew older, the way became more solitary and the path nar- rower. For long distances, the branches of gigantic trees formed a canopy over their Sometimes flocks of parrots, dis- turbed by their approach, arose from the foliage and went whirring and screaming away. “'These, Brownie,” said Barnabas, in a voice somewhat softened by the loneliness and peril of their situation, “are the favorite lurkin’-places of the infarnal leopard, tiger, and panther.” Alethe snuggled a little closer to her pro- tector. “Don’t be. afeared, Miss,” he went on, * Methuselah is powerful strong in his trunk, and his intelligence is nigh on’t to human. He's got a qua eye; you can seldom find a quicker. . You see these great ears?” Bar- nabas tapped. Methuselah’s ears with his lance. “Now you may think them ears, a fallin’ down in that way, stops his hearin’ ; but ’tisn’t so. While you go along cozily on his back, s’posin’ he’s nothin’ but a mountain of flesh, he’s tendiu’ strictly to his business— throwin’ his blinkin’ eyes yender to that clus- ter o’ bamboos ; or yender, ‘mong them man- goes; or to the left, ’mong them tamarinds; or to the right, *mong the sauls; with his hearin’ fakilties actyve all the while. Why does he do it? Acause he knows the country he lives in, and the dangers to be guarded agin.” “Can you go a little faster, Sahib ?” “T. can, but you must look out for the branches. We're travelin’ right smart, now. An Arabian horse couldn’t keep up with us. Is it much further, little gal 2” “Tt may be twenty English miles, I can- not tell. Are you afraid, Sahib?” “No,” answered the American, with more ity than he had previously shown. “I ong to a nation that never stops to be afraid. But if it’s no offence, and isn’t chan- di be gin’ the subject too violent, I'd like to know
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. 8 Hydrabad, the Strangler. ; some’at more o’ this business? If it don’t consarn that rascal, Hydrabad, I ain’t so good at guessin’ as I used to be. Lain’t. No!” lethe knew well how to guard her secret, and did so. They swept swiftly on. The great body of Methuselah went surg- ing through the jungle, like an enormous bil- low racing over the sea before the wind. Barnabas could not for the life of him help thinking of, the pretty creature near him. His heart kept thumping against his ribs. In- stead of regretting the journey, he rejoiced in it. Lions, tigers, leopards, and panthers anon passed out of his consciousness. He thought of Alethe. He wondered that he had never before been struck with the exceeding sweet- ness of her voice. He availed himself of the tremulous zodiacal light to steal glances at her face. It was pale as the zodiac itself, yet lovely still; while the large eyes were brighter than the tropical stars. He felt strangely, and, for the first time in his life, was at a loss for a subject of conversation. They went far in silence, and finally, to the surprise of Barnabas, stopped at a mean- looking mud hut, at the foot of the range of hills mentioned, and near the wildest jungle that he had ever seen. “This,” he remarked, unable to conceal his disappointment, “ beggin’ your pardon, seems like comin’ fur to a poor market.” “ Be patient with me, good Sahib. If you judge hastily you will judge wrongly. Iam not mistaken in the place. I remember the landmarks. Permit me to dismount, and await me at the door. If 1 call you, come to me, and do as I bid you.” The young girl spoke with a fervor and authoritativeness that harmonized with the natural gallantry of the American. He was ready to hazard: his life for this fair flower of India. He caused the elephant to lie down and lifted Alethe from his back. He held her an instant before he would allow her to go. “Tm afeard,” he said, in a kindly manner, “that you’re goin’ to a place that you don’t feel certain about. Don’t run too much risk, my pretty Brownie. If you don’t feel sure of your ground, let me go in with you; and I swear to gosh, if any critter so much as looks impertinent at you, I'll crop his ears! I will. Yes!” “You are very kind, Sahib; but no one will harm me.” She tripped to the door of the hut, smiling nig spears 5 Barnabas followed her as far as he could with his elephant, then earnestly assured her, that if there was any trouble, Methuselah should scatter the hut with his trunk, and tread her enemies under his feet. CHAPTER VII. MEERAB. Alethe knocked, and was cautiously ad- mitted, after waiting a short time. The person who appeared was an old man, with a white beard, overhanging forehead, and deep-set eyes. His expression, at first, was both crafty and wary ; but when he had taken a rapid survey of his visitor, his fea- tures settled into composure. His dress was simple, beg a loose brown robe reaching to his feet, with a very large turban of the same color. The interior of his bamboo hut was lighted by some blazing sticks on the hearth, which, to enable him better to see his visitor, he occasionally stirred. She observed books in the little apartment, and packages of herbs. This was one of those learned men of India, who read Sans- crit, study the virtues of plants and the in- fluences of the stars. £ “ Child,” asked the Brahmin, when he had pointed her to a bamboo seat, “ whence come you?” “From a long distance, and my business is urgent,” replied Alethe. “ Speak, daughter,” said the Brahmin, put- ting more sticks on the fire. ® “Great Meerab, you are acquainted with the poisonous and healing spirits that reside in plants. One of these spirits kills, and the other gives life.” d The man appeared surprised at hearing his name pronounced, but anon made answer. “ By the blessing of Brama, I know some- what of drugs, roots, and herbs. But what is that to you? You are butachild. Surely you can haye no enemies ?” He looked inquisitively at her handsome Ce. “Meerab,” returned Alethe, “I come not to invoke the elements of death. There is no one whom I would destroy. I am here for another and better object.” “Go on,” said Meerab. “T wish for an antidote, or counter-agent, toa Yd ip poison,” resumed the girl. “ Be less vague; tell me the nature of the poison.” The Brahmin stroked his white beard, and his eyes wandered over the lovely form of Alethe. “Tt is of a spirit so subtle that a single a a of it dropped into a fresh wound will, in the space of two or three days, insidious- ty undermine the powers of life,” she replied. “Are you acquainted with this wonderful agent ?” inquired the Brahmin, watching her countenance. “Great Meerab,” answered Alethe, with emphasis, “ I know there is such a silent and deadly destroyer, and I have hastened to you for its antidote. I am not unprovided with the means of recompense. Here is a bag of rupees. Give me that for which 1 am come.” She placed the bag of rupees at his feet. Meerab eyed it curiously, then gazed at- tentively at Aletha, and sighed. “Girl,” he said, with some severity, “all knowledge is from Brama, and I sell not the secrets of Heaven for money.” _ “Tt is to save life, old man!’ cried Alethe, vexed at his tardiness. “The more reason that it should not be bartered like the common commodities of existence,” returned Meerab. “Tf it may not be sold, then give it me, at once; for 1 will not go hence without it!” said Alethe, resolutely. The sunken eyes of Meerab began to show animation. “The balm you crave is too precious for gift, save in rare instances, where the will of Heaven is plainly indicated.” He paused. Aethe's thrilling orbs were upon him. For an instant he felt himself revealed in her sight; but the change of his countenance was scarcely perceptible. “Trifle not with my needs, old man! I _— you, and the class to which you be- ong.” eerab took from his person a wallet of skin containing opium, and taking therefrom a piece of the narcotic weighing five or six grains, was about to swallow it, when Alethe LM wesc it from him, together with the wal- et. He manifested undisguised astonishment at this singular action. “Frown not, learned Meerab, that I take from ee your enemy. You shall intoxicate your brain no more till you have attended to my request. I would save the life of one who has not lived a third of thy years ; who is in life’s pleasant summer, with its flowers andits sweets around him. He must live!” She spoke with kindling enthusiasm. Her nature was being gradually aroused. “Give me the wallet, child; it is allI have, and there is no more of the precious = within a day’s walk. It is my life, girl; cannot exist a night without it. It is my inspiration—my religion! It fires my brain, and gives me glorious dreams of Brama.” He stretched forth a tremulous hand; but instead of restoring the wallet, Alethe placed itin her bosom. ‘he Brahmin smiled, then scowled ; the latter being the least deceitful of the two demonstrations. “ You might have purchased the antidote,” he said, with a sneer. “But not at your price, old viper!” cried Alethe, indignantly. “Tamper with me no more. Answer me; yes, or no?” “No! said Meerab, sullemy. “Then adieu, wise Meerab, and pass a hor- rible night without opium. You have been full oft to Paradise; now go down to Hades, where the fire of torture is not quenched, and where the worm of desire dieth not.” Alethe made a step toward the door. “Stay, girl!” exclaimed Meerab. “ Stuy! Leave me not to the horrors of Tartarus. Who is it that you would saye ?” “ One, young and brave,” she replied. “Ts he an Englishman ?” asked the Brah- min. “ He is.” “ And an officer ? “ Yes. ” “Then, let him die!” cried Meerab, shak- ing with rage, “Let them all die! It is tree sal = —— time that wé were our own masters. The brave Sepoy’ aze at work. Blood is flowing like water. Let i flow! I shall rejoice when the last death-rattle of the last op- pressor is heard.” “You should have better thoughts. Be careful how you incite our deluded people to revolt and bloodshed. They are rushing upon destruction. May you perish with | them!” answered Alethe, with less yvehe- mence but equal earnestness. “ Young woman,” said Meerab, becoming calmer, “ your face grows familiar as I look at you. eé haye met, I know not where. Tell me your history. What English family are you the pet of? What impulse brings ape hither, and puts you in the power of eerab ?” “All these questions you may answer as you list. I will ask you one in turn. Do you know one Hydrabad, who pretends to something of your skill ?” : Meerab stared, and demanded, quickly : “ What of Hydrabad ?” “ Only this: That, to-morrow morning, I will have him hanged to the tallest palm- tree on the banks of the Jumna |” The old man looked anxious. “I doubt your power,” he said, musingly. “ Ay, this is an invention of your own; but it shall not serve you. Give me the wallet, and go hence.” “Igo; but I restore not your wallet, and Hydrabad dies! You wince, old man. The betrayer is sometimes betrayed.” “ Theltevs you not,” retorted Meerab, with a mocking laugh. Alethe now noticed that there was a strange odor in the air—a kind of penetrating vapor that affected her brain. Simultaneously with the discovery of this phenomenon were its effects. The power of volition seemed sus- pended. She stood gasping and wondering, while Meerab crept toward her with a cord in his hand. The shole dreadfult ruth of his character and calling flashed through her staggering consciousness like lightning. Meerab was of the Stranglers ! She saw the noose whirling through the air, without the ability to avoid it; it fell over her head ; it tightened upon her neck like the fold of a serpent. Her horror was stronger than the arts of the old man, and she screamed for Barnabas. The bamboo door was shattered, and through the opening appeared Barnabas and the trunk of the eljephant. The former seized Meerab by the throat and hurled him backward; he fell near Methuselah’s feet. Barnabas, with flaming anger, tore the cord from Alethe’s neck, and kept her from falling, with his strong arm. “Give me air—more air, Sahib!” she mur- mured. “Pull out the sticks there, Methuselah, Knock out one side of this devil’s den.” Whether it was the motion that Barnabas made, or whether it was his voice that guided him, it was certain that he laid hold of the light bamboo structure, and rent away one side of it asif it had been composed of wisps of straw. The fresh air rushing in, dispelled the dangerous vapor and restored Alethe. Meerab tried to arise: but as often as he made the attempt, Methuselah pushed him back with his ever-vigilant trunk; and finally, to give emphasis to his wishes, held one of his great feet menacingly over him “FE pluribus!” exclaimed grb ch uite shocked at what had occurred. “If I’d been a minute or two later, you wouldn’t been worth takin’ back to the Major's. I reckon I'd better kill this old wretch. One o’ them stranglin’ devils, isn’t he? There’s a mark round your neck, by ‘ious !” * Meerab,” said Alethe, turning to the prostrate and trembling Brahmin, “you are unfit to live ; yet give me that antidote, and ou shall not be harmed. Refuse, and the ahib will speak to his elephant, who will trample you beneath his feet. Make your election quickly.” “Death,” muttered the Strangler, “can come but once.” “ And that once will be soon!” said Barna- bas. “ Look at them tusks; how would you like to dangle on one of ’em like a herrin’ on a stick? Give the gal what she wants, or say ‘No’, plump and strong, and die game ; for as sure as there are stars in heaven, the beast shall throw you sky-high, catch you on his tusks, and your old bones shall break like eggshells under his feet,” :
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“She shall have it!’ groaned Meerab. “Permit me to arise, and I swear, by my gods, to give you the drug, with directions for its use.” Barnabas ordered Methuselah to stop, and he reluctlantly obeyed. ‘The old man arose, humbled, batiled, yet burning with inward hate and wrath.” “Swear to me, Sahib, that you will keep ee he said, looking at Barnabas doubt- ingly. “I will,” replied Hutton, “if you keep faith with her.” “ And if I deceive her?” queried Meerab. “Tf you deceive her,” answered Barnabas, sternly, “I will hunt you down as I would hunt a beast of prey, and strangle you with your own cord.” “ Enough!” He looked at Alethe. “ Girl, it was not the will of the dark gods of death that you should perish to-night by my hand. In that wallet of skin which you took from me you will find a serpentine vial. That serpentine vial con- tains a priceless treasure —the antidote to various malignant poisons. No virus can be taken into the body, either by bite of serpent, or sting of insect, or by inoculation, that it will not counteract and destroy. Drop but one drop on the part where the poison was introduced, and the cure is certain. In cases of the bites of venomous serpents, the appli- cation must be speedy; in others, where the poison is less malignant, the urgency is not so great; although, in matters of life and death, haste is always desirable, be the de- stroying element slow or fastin action. Girl, Meerab has redeemed his promise.” Alethe drew the wallet from her bosom, and found the serpentine vial. It was full of a fluid that looked like melted dia- monds, it was so clearand radiant. Securing ths vial upon her person, she tossed the wal- let to the old man, who immediately broke - off'a piece of the gum and swallowed it with avidity. “Sahib,” said Alethe, “let us return.” In a few moments, Methuselah was_bear- ing them, with great swiftness, toward Major Rainbold’s bungalow. CHAPTER IX. THE DROP OF DEATH AND THE DROP OF LIFE. Neal Kavanagh awoke in the morrow following Alethe’s secret journey, with a severe pain in his wounded arm. Since the first dressing by Hydrabad, he had suffered comparatively little ; his applications having exerted a very soothing and healing influ- ence. Major Rainbold came in to make his morning-visit, and obseryed, with surprise, a change in the young man’s appearance. His face was flushed, and he tossed restlessly on his bed. ‘Thinking the bandage might be too tightly drawn, he loosened it; but the relief was temporary. “The arm is much swollen,” said the Ma- jor, “and the angers are puffed out like lumps of dough. I can’t account for it; and, in fact, I can’t account for anything that takes place in this house lately. Dve lived many years in this country, and never was menaced by a Thug before, nor had a tiger enter my private grounds. But I s’pose strange things must happen occasionally. Then there are Melicent and Bracegirdle playing at some kind of cross-purpose that I can’t understand. He seems a proper young fellow, but that handsome jade of mine treats him with the greatest coolness. He mopes round, muttering and looking as grim as a land-pirate; and my lady scarcely seems conscious of his existence. But you get at- tention, my lad, I must confess. It's a mighty fine thing to be bitten by a tiger, eh?” Major Rainbold shrugged his shoulders and took a poh of snuif. While he was sneezing, Melicent and Ida entered the cham- ber, attended by Alethe. Neul Kavanagh for a moment forgot his pain. The presence of Ida Macgregor suf- ficed for a brief season to divert his mind from the new and strange symptoms that had appeared. “Miss Rainbold,” said Ida, “has thought lightly of physical courage till within a tew days. She is now ready to appreciate any act of prowess, from the storming of a bat-— tery to the slaying of a tiger.” | “Miss Macgregor, Mr. Kavanagh,” retort- ed Melicent, coloring, “has been making , Hydrabad, the Strangler. | 9 herself very disagreeable for the last few days; andif youare as potent with young ladies as with Thugs and tigers, I entreat you to subdue her malignancy, and make her a little more companionable.” a oY powers, Miss Rainbold, are exceed- ingly limited, and I regret to say do not ex- tend to so exalted a being as Miss Mac- gregor.” Having projected this terrific shell from the mortar of his brain, Kavanagh was re- minded of his extreme earthliness by a dreadful twinge in his arm. The Major thumped his snuffbox and laughed. “That's what I call sharp shooting !” he ex- claimed. “How, in Heaven’s name, do you suppose the boy is going to get well, if you make such drafts on his ingenuity? Blast me, girl, if you draw his fire in that way, he won't have ammunition enough left to maintain the citadel of life three days !” “ Bxalted being,” said Melicent, turning to Ida with a toss of the head and a mocking smile, “it is yours to answer this very hand- some thing from the Lieutenant.” pdt <— ook closely at Mr. Kavanagh,” re- plied Ida, approaching him,‘ you will see that his arm is giving him great uneasiness.” Alethe stepped forward very quickly, and looked at him. There was a visible change in her manner. HY Miss Ida is right,” she said. i ” “ What do you know of illness, child!” in- terposed Melicent. “T know enough, my Mistress, to perceive that the Sahib isin great danger, answered the girl, stepping still nearer the couch and adjusting the pillows. While doing this, and while the Major was again inspecting the arm and calling the attention of the young ladies to its swollen condition, she said to Kava- nagh, in a low tone. “You did not follow my instructions. Your arm has been dressed by Hydrabad since I last saw you.” “You are mistaken, my friend. To my knowledge, Hydrabad has not been in the room since you left me last night,” replied Kayanagh. “But I have slept profoundly —unnaturally, I think.” “Ah! that accounts for it,” said Alethe, quickly. “ You have been under the influence of a drug, and a score of persons might have entered your chamber without waking ou.” “ Girl,” said Melicent, “don’t weary Mr. Kavanagh with your observations. It seems an effort for him to speak.” “ His arm must be attended to,” deposed the Major, bustling about.’ “Where is that hum- bug, Hydrabad? Ah! here he comes. Look here, you root-and-herb man? Your patient is bad enough. His arm’s as large asa six- pound carronade. It’s my notion that you're no doctor, Doctor Hydrabad! Bracegirdle; come in.” The concluding words were ad- dressed to Raynor, who, for some reason, had followed Hydrabad to Kavanagh's apartment. On seeing so many persons present, he was disconcerted, not knowing whether to ad- vance or retreat. The Major’s words decided him, and he came in, while Hydrabad ad- vanced, with an air of mingled respect and confidence, to the bedside of his patient. Alethe placed herself where she could watch the play of his features. “ A little fever has set in during the night,” said he. Kavanagh kept his eyes fixed steadily on those of the native. He saw what Ida Mac- gregor had more than once fancied she had seen—something familiar in that yellow vis- age. What was it? Ida had asked that question. Kavanagh now asked it. Was it the voice that so frequentiy startled him? ‘Was it the eyes, or the teeth, or the mouth? He could not tell. Ida stood at the foot of the bed, observing the countenances of each. “The arm,” added Hydrabad, “has im- prudently been exposed to a cold draught of air, and you behold here the effects of the exposure.” avanagh suffered his gaze to wander for an instant to Alethe. There was doubt, fear, hope, and entreaty in the glance. Hydrabad was baring the arm, and did not see the mute language of this look ; but it did not escape the penetration of Ida and the jealous watch+ ‘fulness of Melicent. The wound was frightfully inflamed. The “He is very ready. quiet,” interposed Hydrabad. ‘which, unless met by agent, will surely result in death.” red flesh seemed réady t6 burst, while a green watery humor exuded from the im- prints of the teeth. All save the Doctor he- held the arm with surprise and alarm. What- ever Bracegirdle was prepared to see, the reality surpassed the anticipation. Hydra- bad, only, was calm and untroubled. “Send for Barnabas Hutton,” said Kava- nagh. “Sahib, there are too many present al- Your safety depends on perfect Alethe waited to hear no more, but ran for Barnabas, and soon came back with him. “Barnabas,” said Kavanagh, faintly, “ey shall never ride with you again on your ele- phant.” “Let every one leaye the room but Alethe,” said Barnabas, firmly and prompt« ly.. No one present had seen him display such decision and dignity. «“T await the command of the Sahib; Tam his physician,” said Hydrabad, with a slight depression of the brows. “Qo!” added Kavanagh ; “to Barnabas I confide myself.” “Right about fice, then,” said the Major ; “there is no virtue like quick obedience. Eyes to the door! march !”’ ajor Rainbold retreated, followed by Bracegirdle and the young ladies. [ydra- bad was the last to leave the apartment; he strode away with the same unmoved counte- nance with which he had entered. Barnabas closed the door the instant they were out of sight, and locked it. “ Now, gal,” he said ; “what's to be done must be done quick. If somethin’ isn’t done to that arm, it'll have to be cut off afore twelve hours! It looks to me, for all the world, as if it had been wounded by a pizen- ed arrer.” “Sahib,” said Alethe, ‘this wound has been poisoned since I left you last night. One fatal drop has mingled with your blood, a powerful counter- “JT fear your announcement is but too true,” answered Kavanagh. “That dark vil- Jain was unworthy of our confidence. I commend myself to Heaven !” “Look at this, Sahib !” said Alethe, hold-j ing up the serpentine vial. “ Last night it was more than forty English miles distant, this morning it was here. In this vial is life, hope, and love! Jn life there is all ; without it, there is nothing.” She gazed in triumph at the sparkling liquid ; then, with a steady hand, dropped into Kayanagh’s wound one glowing, gtisten- ing drop. It fell, flashing like a molten div- mond, and, hissing in the red flesh, disap- peared like lightning. “Tt burns like fire!” groaned Kavanagh. “Tt darts up my veins like splinters of steel !” “Tt will save you!” murmured Alethe. “Ts there no doubt? Is your faith full and perfect?” gasped Kavanagh. “Ttis! Ihave not a shadow of fear,” an- swered Alethe, with singular confidence. Barnabas whispered in her eur : s ‘Lethe! ‘Lethe! He may have deceived ou. “No, no! There is that within me that assures me beyond the pain of distrust. Do you not see that it affects him already ?” Kavanagh heaved a profound sigh. He felt relief from a terrible pressure. That nameless horror that had been drifting through his nerves for the last hour, fell pow- erless and dead, stricken down by ® more py | element. His consciousness ebbed ack from the gateway of death, toward which it had been tossing and rolling, like the billows of the unquiet sea. Kavanagh stretched out his right hand; Alethe blushed and trembled, then, with a smile, pale and fluctuating as the light of the zodiac, placed the tips of her fingers in his palm. He tried to close his hand upon the quivering little members; but his strength was gone. He gave her one grateful look, that more than repaid her toil and danger, then his eyes closed with an irresistible lan- guor, and the balmy influence ef the ineffable élixir was fully upon him. He did not sleep, but swam deliciously to and fro, in a perfect state of rest, between sleeping and waking. « Bruise these leaves, Mr. Barnabas,” said Alethe, ina soft tone, after watching, with wonder and delight, the benign effects of the antidote.
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10 Hutton bruised some leaves in a wooden | mortar, and assisted the girl to bind them | carefully upon the arm. This and other friendly offices she silently and gently per- formed. Kavanagh, though he could not see nor hear her, sensed her presence. There was a soft tap at the door. Alethe answered it, and Ida Macgregor glided in, pale and anxious. His quiet features and nearly suspended respiration thrilled her, at first, with a terrible apprehension; but the passionless calm of Alethe’s expression and the satisfied manner of Barnabas undeceived her. Alethe placed a chair for her near the bed, which she accepted unaffectedly. “ He must not be left alone,” said Alethe, in her liquid tones. _‘“ We must watch him by turns. Mr. Barnabas, let neither Hydra- bad nor Bracegirdle enter this room.” “*Lethe,” replied Barnabas, earnestly, “ when you speak, I forget that I have a will of my own.” : Alethe smiled, and Barnabas posted him- self at the door, with a heart so honest and so much in the service of Alethe and Kaya- nagh, that there was not money enough in In- dia to corrupt it. CHAPTER X. THE SHIRT OF MATL. Kayanagh’s tranquil state continued ; fair end faithful watchers sat by his bedside ; Barnabas Hutton stood guard over the en- trance to the chamber; the Major walked restlessly in the veranda; while Melicent passed the dubious hours in her own room, or suffered the infliction of Bracegirdle’s com- pany below stairs. That gentleman made repeated attempts to divert her attention, and produce a favorable impression; but nevei . With less success. He approached more than once the subject of his love; but only to be driven from it by her adroitness or indiffer- ence. finally, rendered desperate, he accus- ed her of heartlessness, and a design to trifle with his hopes and feelings. Piqued by his charges, she wished to know by what right he questioned her conduct, or what reasons she had ever given him to ex- pect more from her than friendship? Had she accepted him as a suitor, andifso, at what period; for she could not remember that the word “love” had passed between them. In fu- ture, she begged of him to confine his atten- tions to the ordinary courtesies of life, nor as- pire to anything more. She was nota child to do a foolish thing because two pleasant old gentlemen wanted her to, or was willing that she should. ‘That was her final answer, and he could go about his business. This was the substance of a conversation which left Raynor Bracegirdle in a miserabl angry, mortified, and dissatisfied state of mind, In this unamiable mood, he left the bungalow and walked abovt the grounds, where he had time to reflect on his position, which was anything but desirable. His sentiments tow- ard Kavanagh had not changed; he still be- held in him a rival, and the author of his present unhappiness. While in the young officer’s room, and a witness of the suffering that he had himself produced, he experienced remorse; but since his interview with Melicent this weak- ness had passed. He was again Raynor Bracegirdle, the son ofanabob. In his anger and chagrin, he exulted in the dark deed of which he was the prime mover and author. He stretched himself beneath a tamarind- wee, and looked toward the quarter of the na- tive servants, momentarily expectmy to see one coming to him with the news of Kava- nagh’s death. A consciousness that made him tremble, blazed through his brain. A miser- able being called Hydrabad—a slave, a serf, a peon—held over him a secret, like a flaming sword! This creature might, at any time, prompted by malice or mischief, make an ex- pore of his crime and its cause, and render im a criminal in the eyes of the law. ‘This thought was not to be endured; it stung, it maddened him. He hated not only Kava- nagh, butalso Hydrabad, with a burning in- tensity of hate. 3 His education, his prejudices, his habits, his position, his wrath, each and all added to the haughty and contemptuous detestation which had suddenly grown within him for the willing tool he had employed to rid him of a supposed rival. Hydrabad, the Strangler. thought that pauses to reckon results; without that calm judgment that looks into futurity and deduces a prophecy of what is to come from the present, he hurried to the | apartment which the hospitality of Rainbold had furnished him, and swallowed a large | uantity of arrack, which inflamed his anger, pean his humiliation, and whetted his | appetite for revenge. He who has not learn- | ed restraint in childhood will not learn it in manhood. Raynor Bracegirdle stalked from the now | quiet bungalow, a desperate and reckless man. He wanted an object on which to | wreak his vengeance. When he had walked some distance, he came suddenl one he was thinking of—Hydrabad ; reposing beneath a canopy of vines and palm-leayes. Tt was the opportunity he wanted. He was one of the lords of the soil; he had stricken such vermin before, but never with the in- centive that now urged him on. It was but the drawing of a dagger—the raising of an arm—the striking of a blow—the flowing of a red fluid ; that was all! Raynor Bracegirdle could do that. The death of a tawny wretch would conceal the crime of a white Christian. So he approach- ed Hydrabad without noise; so he stole up to Hydrabad without sound ; so he stood over Hydrabad like a silent spectre. e struck—as he had done before—and the dagger rebounded like an India-rubber ball ; the weapon alighted upon a shirt of mail! Hydrabad sprang to his feet, and laughed a bitter mocking laugh. “Unfledged fool!’ he exclaimed.“ Did you imagine that one trained from infancy to the practice of cunning and the arts of subtlety could be cheated and surprised by & white-skinned European! Sahib, you are to me as milk to arrack; as water to inflam- mable spirit. I know you! How well I know you! My skin is yellow, and my religion to you is as the religion of hell; bnt I know you, nevertheless, O Sahib! I expected you would try the dagger. I cared not for that. Iam a minister of death. I dropped the deadly drop into the oozing wound, more for myself than for you. I know my trade. I know the dreadful mystery of Bowanee—the deity of the Phansigars. You are to me as the tottering footsteps of the fearful child. Before you, all is uncertainty and doubt; before me, all is revealed and clear. Think not that I am disappointed ; the deadly deity I serve has given me better wisdom. Simpleton! Double simpleton! I am thine enemy as much as his. Give me the opportunity, and I would drop the de- composing drop into thy blood as calmly as into his. Stare at me, European! Open thy weak and feminine eyes. It is true! Instead of being the master, thou art the neophyte and I the master. Sahib—” he pointed tow- ard the bungalow, and the great carbuncle on his throat flamed in the afternoon-sun— “tell me where that airy structure will be in forty-eight hours? Tell me what will be the destiny of those who now respire beneath that thatched roof? Ifyou can tell me these things, speak !” “ Hydrabad,” said Bracegirdle, shivering, “T can not! Ifthou art Satan, sayso; ifthou art man, say so.” A troubled and sombre expression grew over the features of Raynor. “T am intermediate,” 1eplied Hydrabad, turning the whites of his eyes upward. “I pendulate between heayen and hell; but I am ever nearest the last. What I do not know, Will be whispered darkly in my ear. The inspirations of wickedness are ever pres- ent. ‘To be all-powerful, you must be an an- gelora demon. These two powers have it all their own way; and on this earth, it is impossible to tell who is the angel and who isthe demon. You will finditthus. I have passed as a saint with weak women, when I was a fiend and a fallen spirit in the eyes of the all-pervading Deity.” Hydrabad arose; he stretched forth his muscular arms and his brown hands; he turned his mysterious eyes toward heayen ; and laughed sardonically. Raynor Bracegirdle instinctively drew back. His own wickedness seemed to threat- en him ; his own evil passions seemed rolling upon him like a mountain. “ Dark devil!” answered Raynor, with won- derful self-possession. “Think not that I am like your race. I laugh at your follies, and Without consideration ; without that fore- | the tricks of your despicable order are lost upon the | —[—[—[———————————————_—_—_——————_—————————_—————_= | upon me. Begone! snow not your accurs- ed face again. Look at this!” He drew a revolver from his breast. ‘There are six deaths in this! Away, and let me see you n> more.” “Not so. We'll make another compact,” | said Hydrabad. “Never! never!” cried Bracegirdle. “Be not too confident, Sahib. You want the two maidens. You would bear away your couniry-woman and her starry-eyed maid,” said Hydrabad, with cool assurance “Instead of studying new devices for my pleasure, why do you nm% ask why I struck?” demanded Raynor. “Why should I ask whatI know? My work was done; the deadly poison had been infused into his blood. You believed you had no further need ofme. You wished no partnership with despised son of India. You thought a secret might be better kept by one than two. You were right! Had I been Bracegirdle and you Hydrabad, I would have slain Hydrabad. I cannot complain. It is the way of the world. My life is worth nothing to you any longer than it serves your purpose.” ; The native looked dreamily at the moon- stone in the hilt ofhis dagger. _ “ Your philosophy is well suited to your condition. But tell me, wayward fatalist, how long before that drop will complete its mysterious work ?” “Tts action is decisive, and your enem will go back to the elements sooner than predicted. In twenty-four hours, the fire in his body will be absorbed by the fire of the the sun. The earthly particles will go to earth, the airy atoms to air, and the dust will be as it was in the beginning.” The native still gazed into the moon- stone. “Did you, or did you not, feel that you were suspected ? asked Raynor. “1 knew I was suspected, as I stood by the bedside. I read suspicion in the eyes that were leveled on me like spears. But I cared not when itis time for Hydrabad to give back the little spark within him to yonder glowing god of fire’—he pointed to the sun—" it will fly to its starting-point as the shuttle flies to the hand of the weaver. : : “ You are a fire-worshiper !” said Bracegir- dle, involuntarily. “J know not what I worship, but I know that Iam warned and lighted by the glitter- ing rays ofthat gloricus luminary. Heat and Light are the father and the mother of all things.” 2 Hydrabad threw out his armsas if to bathe his hands in the eternal beams. He turned his face upward in gloomy ecstasy, as if to inhale a new afflatus from the sun. “Talk not of matters so far away, and be- yond the grasp of the senses of man. It is of more consequence to me to know who lives and who dies within the next twenty-four hours than to fathom all the mysteries of Fire and Air. Let us be practical. Kavanagh”’— he lowered his yoice—* will—will—” “ Will give his fire to the fire of the sun,” interposed Hydrabad, “ Away with your metaphors!’ sneered Bracegirdle. “ Kavanagh will die, unless you are a stupendous liar. Well? What then? I will tell you what I think the what-then will be: the circumstances of his death be so singular, that an English surgeon will be summoned from Cawnpoor or Lucknow, to examine the body.” Bracegirdle looked anxiously at Hydrabad, who laughed disdainfully. “Let them,” he answered, bring all the sur- ons in India, and not one of them will be the wiser for the journey. If one should be bitten by a mad tiger, and die, think you that all the surgeons in the world could find the virus that produced the death? It is impossi- ble! On that point, be at ease. And, be- sides”—he fingered the flaming carbuncle— “the eye of a surgeon will: never rest on the body of the young Englishman.” “ What mean you?” hastily inquired Ray- nor. “T mean that lightning may strike a tree and shiver it to atoms. What you do, do quickly.” Hydrabad’s yellow features worked with that dark vehemence that characterized his inexplicable nature. “Snatch the orange while it is within your reach,” he resumed. “ Pluck the grape while | the cluster hangs low.”
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“J would fain do it, if1 knew how!” mut- tered Raynor. “The moonstone is clear in my sight. Ha that would do a thing, has but to try. I told you I was intermediate between direst Evil and extremest Good. Iam. I possess a mys- tic life of which plodding earth-fools dream not. IfI walk with Satan, whose care is it but mine? IfI am the devil’s hand, let those tremble only who feel my clutch!” His dart- ing eyes flamed like the carbuncle on his throat. “Jf Satan ever walked the earth in human form,” said Bracegirdle, in a shivering voice, “him thou art! Avaunt, glittering devil!” “Knowing me as you now know me, you perceive there is little need that I should ask what you most desire. Your mind is more transparent to Hydrabad than this moon- stone. The love wherewith you love her is not love, but passion.” “ Whom ?” gasped Raynor. “Melicent!” breathed Hydrabad, softly. “The love wherewith you love the other,” he continued, “is passion, and somebhing more.” “Whom »” sighed Raynor. “ Alethe?” answered Hydrabad, yet more i «“ You have caught me, Satan!” cried Ray- nor. “Yes, European, I have caught you; but wanting you not, I give you back to yourself; or rather to your selfishness.” “Thanks for the gift!” retorted Raynor, ironically. “In consigning me to my own pleasures, you indeed give me to the devil. But these girls? They hauntme. Both mis- tress and maid have taken possession of my imagination, and give me no rest, day nor night. Yes, we will make yet another com- pact!” “ Said I not that?” “Who but Satan should know what is to happen? I am ready to bargain with you.” “ Say on.” f “Can you provide me with horses and two bold, trusty fellows ?” “T can.” “Mark you, Hydrabad! They must not be effeminate and loitering rogues, but firm and hardy villains, who can look a European straight in the eyes without fear or favor, and who are as familiar with their weapons as with their own teeth.” “Such are within my reach. Had they been made for you, they could not be more conformable to your description. They are sons of the jungle. The ‘Vigers tremble at the names of Tilac and Kassim. Tilac and Kassim are tiger-hunters and tiger-trainers.” “The very men!” exclaimed, Bracegirdle. “ And their services will cost you another thousand rupees,” added the native. «That will be two thousand rupees in all. I have not so many to spare, at present.” “ Being aware of that fact, 1 have prepared a paper for you tosign ; which is no more nor less than an order on the nabob, your father.” Hydrabad drew a paper from his breast with the utmost coolness. Raynor stared at him in wonder. “Tt is no Satanic bond!” laughed the na- tive. ‘I want no more of your soul than is contained in the rupees. Here is a pen; sign !” Raynor Bracegirdle took the paper and found it in due form. His hand trembled when he received the pen from Hydrabad. He scrawled his name at the bottom of the draft. “You observe,” said Hydrabad, “ that it is dated a week in advance, which prevents me from taking advantage of your confidence, and drawing the money before the service is rendered.” “Your honesty,” retorted Raynor, very dryly, “is remarkable, and a little less than your foresight! Now, that matter being _ settled, the details of the scheme remain to be arranged. I am anxious that the venture should be made within forty-eight hours, at the furthest. Can your tiger-hunters be here ?” “ Without fail.” “Let it be so. I trust myself in your hands yet again. Be faithful, and forget that my dagger found your shirt of mail.” a Thea no malice. When next you seek | my life, aim at the throat, or try some more certain means. I die not easily.” “Do not for a moment—” “Make no protestations!” interrupted Hydrabad, scorntully. You know not what ' Hydrabad, the Strangler. 11 may happen; nor need you trouble yourself about the future. When the hour comes to carry away mistress and maid, trust in Tilac. As for myself, do not be surprised if you see me little for the next two days. Take no thought about my absence or presence. When it is necessary for you to see me, you will find me at your elbow.” “T could almost swear to the last!” mut- tered Bracegirdle. «You'll want an elysium for your houris,” added the native, carelessly. “A safe retreat where your marriage may be arranged at your leisure.” He pronounced the word “marriage” in such a manner, that Bracegirdle started, as if he had stepped on a serpent. There was a cold and penetrating light in his eyes that was like the glitter of steel. Raynor turned, and walked from him, im- pelled by a secret terror that he could not overcome. When he had gone a few paces, he looked for Hydrabad ; but he had disap- peared. Surprised by the circumstance, he went back and searched among the trees, and was finally obliged to leave the mystery as he had found it. Never had an interview so strangely affected him. He half doubted his own identity. Hy- drabad seemed, to his startled fancy,to be walk- ing unseen at his side. He rather expected to hear his derisive laugh, or his clear, mock- ing, and sometimes melodious voice. With his dislike of the native, superstitious dread was also mingled. Fascination and fear ex- erted two opposing forces, from neither of which could he escape. If, influenced by the latter, he thought to fly from the bunga- low, the former arrested his purpose and him fast. CHAPTER XI. MISTRESS AND MAID. None of Major Rainbold’s household under- stood the character of Kavanagh’s dangerous symptoms, ees Alethe. Vague suspicious had troubled Ida Macgregor, but they touk no definite shape. Even Kavanagh was ig- norant of the manner in which his wound had been tampered with ; nor had he a clear view of the subject till Alethe enlightened him. The knayery of Hydrabad and the complicity of Bracegirdle were gradually un- folded to him by her, after he had slept, and was free from pain and anxiety. The revelation was not so startling to him, howeyer, as to Ida Macgregor, who received it with the utmost consternation. The at- tempt to take life by a method so cruel and cowardly, indicated a degree of wickedness which she found it difficult to conceive of. She dared not communicate this astounding development to her guardian, lest his impet- uosity should bring swift judgment on the head of the criminal ; neither did she feel at liberty to withhold it from Melicent. Toward Alethe, the brave girl who had prevented the catastrophe, Miss Macgregor felt the deepest gratitude; and had her de- scribe minutely the means by which she had ined possession of the plot; which had een by hiding herselfin the hollow trunk of a banyan-tree, and hearing the conversation that passed between Bracegirdle and Hydra- bad ; in consequence of which she had made such extraordinary exertions to obtain the antidote from the old man Meerab. Barnabas Hutton was too faithful and de- serving not to be taken into her confidence; and as soon as Kayanagh was able to con- verse without detriment, the whole subject was freely discussed with him. His honest ire was so much excited, that it required all the persuasive powers of the three, combined, to prevent him from taking instant vengeance on both the assassins. After several cabinet-meetings, held in Kavanagh’s chamber, it was concluded to let the matter rest till the following day. Bar- nabas, though at first opposed to the measure, was at length brought to consent by a few words from Alethe. Not cal. the Major, but Melicent also, was mystified by the proceedings in Kavanagh’s room. They were not satisfied, until Ida had in person assured them that the patient was doing well, and desired to be attended only by Barnabas Hutton and herself; that Alethe had applied some native remedies that were acting with singular efficacy; and other things of a similar nature. Melicent was in an anomalous mental state. Her imagination had been captivated by Neal Kavanagh. She could not herself (lefine her feelings toward him. She thought him a hero and the woman who thinks a man a hero, is in a.fair way to love him. Melicent wentfurther. She said within herself, to her- self: “He is handsome!” 'The woman who says within herself, to herself: “This man is handsome!” is already two thirds in love, whether she knows it or no. Melicentasked inwardly, if Ida Macgregorhad discovered so many bright qualities in Kayanagh asshe had done, , She had watched Ida with the closest attention ; but that young lady was self-con- scious and such a model of propriety, that it was the hardest thing in the world to deter- mine her mental state. If Melicent cherish- ed tender sentiments, for Lieutenant Kavya- nagh, she was much too proud and sensible to display them in an unbecoming manner. The day was very irksome to her, and the danger of the young man disturbed her more than she was ready to admit. The promis- ing change in his condition gave her real relief. Near the close of the day, Alethe tripped into the garden to inhale the pure air, and think calmly of the incidents of the last twen- ty-four. hours. Bracegirdle; ever prowling and vigilant, seized upon the opportunity, and approached her as if by chance. She be- held his advance, with neither terror nor ti- midity. Knowing the man and his secret, she believed that.she possessed an advantage of no trifling importance. Raynor. thought he would try the suscepti- bility of the maid, hoping she would prove more kind than the mistress. “They call you Alethe?” he said, with a condescension that he well knew how to as- sume. “Those who call me, call me Alethe,” she answered. “You might have been called Lethe; for your eyes are rivers of light, whose waters, once imbibed, may well render one oblivious to all else.” , “ What is Lethe ?” she asked. * “One of the rivers of hell,” answered Ray- nor, “ whose waters produce forgetfulness of, the past.” | «“ Drink not of me!” returned Alethe, in a warning voice. t “Nay, fair creature, say not so! I would taste, though that forgeiiulness were eler- nal.” “And I say unto you, Taste not!” respond- od Aletha with a contemptuous: toss of the head. “Thou art like opium. or hasheesh, that in- toxicates the brain and fascinates the sen- ” “Take neither opium nor hasheesh !” said she, curling her lip with contempt. “Go to my mistress, and tell her she isa drug; as for me, I am not, the drug you want. J can exert but_one power, over you; and that is, for your destruction.” “T cannot understand you, dreamy Alethe, Those tropical eyes and those balmy lips can give nothing but bliss.” “To thee they can give neither.” She paused before him, and looked up into his face... “Leave me,” she added, “and go to your master.” “have no master, girl!” replied Raynor, with hauteur. “You haye a master, and his name is Hy- brabad,” said Alethe, quietly. “You have touched me more nearly than you think!” exclaimed Bracegirdle, taken by surprise, and off his guard. ‘ What know you of this Hydrabad 2” he asked. “Enough to make me shun him; enough to make me. shudder when he approaches; enough to make me keep out of his way an- swered Alethe,” with earnestness. “Bah ! he is but a tricking juggler.” “T know not, that. There is a dark spirit within him, Once he touched mo with his finger, and Iihought a serpent had bitten me.” Bracegirdle involuntarily shuddered. “ Let us not waste breath in talking of Uy- drabad,” he said... “It is you who have lured me hither. Listen tome, and make your choice quickly.. Your mistress, cold and un- feeling, unwarned by the kindly influence of love, has maecies me, as. if I were less than her slave. That rejected and scorned love I offer. to you. Accept it, and we will fly to- gerst, to seek happiness in some calm and istant retreat, where neither envy nor malice shall reach us, to disturb our tranquillity or
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Hydrabad, tke Strangler. | dash the chalice of happiness from our lips.” “A delightful picture! ‘Tis a pity this speech could not have been heard by my mistress.” “ She has heard it,” replied Melicent, her- self, stepping from behind a cluster of vines. “ And it gives me great pleasure to know that Mr. Bracegirdle’s heart has not been mater- ially injured by me.” She laughed lightly, and added: “Mr. Bracegirdle, ifmy maid says ‘yes’, I will not be so cruel as to say ‘nay’. "There will be no need, however, of flying to that distant retreat to drain the cup of bliss ; for if the girl be willing, you can marry her here without trouble or perplexity, or the hazard of that long journey.” “Mock on, Miss Hainbola !” sneered Brace- girdle. “When the hour of my triumph ar- riyves, perhaps I shall not remember this treat- ment.” “May that hour never come!” said Meli- cent, fervently “May it never come!” repeated Alethe, with equal earnestness. “And now,” she added, looking at Raynor, “you are rejected by both mistress and maid, and I see nothing to detain you longer here. Hasten to that dark and glittering-eyed Hydrabad, and find a remedy jor your disappointment.” “As the guest of your futher, Miss Rain- bold, I have aright to expect different treat- ment.” “You have a right to be scourged from hence with rods, like a cur that has turned and bitten its master!” cried Alethe, swelling with indignation. “ Alethe! Alethe!” interposed Melicent. “My mistress, you know not the wicked- ness of this man; but the time is near when he shall be unvailed, and you shall see him as he is.” “JT will order my horse, Miss Rainbold, and leave at once your inhospitable roof!” pro- tested Raynor. “T meant not, Mr. Bracegirdle, that the matter should go so far asthat. Asa guest, you are right welcome to remain, providing you forget this silly passion of love-making fo every pretty face you chance to see. Bridle your anger and make the best of it,” said Melicent, in a conciliatory tone. Bracegirdle left them, threatening instant departure. oe CHAPTER XII. THE BANYAN-TRER. “ Alethe,” said Miss Rainbold, when Brace- girdle had gone, “you have a secret! Share that secret with your too-indulgent mistress.” The girl was silent. “Alethe, have I been unreasonable with ouin my willful and imperious moods ?” Mel- icent’s voice was Very persuasive. Alethe kissed her hand. “You have been as a sister and a friend. You have held me with silken fetters. My bondage has not been irksome.” She crossed her arms upon her breast, look- ed down, and sighed. Melicent stroked her dark hair. a pon, Alethe !” “My mistress, nothing should be hidden from you. Come withme. Do notbe afraid; we will not go far. You see that patriarchal bi aa That shall be the end of our wa Bee Alethe preceded her mistress to the tree. “This tree,” she said, “is the parent ofmy se- cret. Itis hollow. By pushing the tall grass aside, an Opening may be found at the root. Suspecting the honesty of Hydrabad, I set Ha- fiz to watching him ; and when Hafiz could not watch him, I watched him myself. Opbserv- ing Hydrabad walking here, one day, in a very bad temper, on account of some words I had said to him, I hid myself inside this pa- triarch, and had not been there a great while, when I heard a conversation that well repaid me for my trouble. This conversation took place between Hydrabad and the young En- glishman who came hither to woo my mis- tress.” “Go on!” said Melicent, nervously. “Their discourse concerned Kavanagh, of whom Bracegirdle was intensely jealous. He bargained with Hydrabad to remove him from his path.” “ This seems incredible !” exclaimed Meli- cent. “The pargain was easily made. For one thousand rupees, he was to drop into the wound a poison so penetrating, that it would, | his face, it was the face of a corpse. in due time, produce death.” j “T see—I “partly comprehend, said Miss Rainbold. “T wished to thwart this crafty villain in my own way. Knowing of one very learned in the mystery of drugs and poisons, I lost no time in seeking him; a journey that neyv- er could have been accomplished without the aid of Mr. Barnabas and his elephant. By the blessing of God Ireached the hut of the solitaire and procured the antidote. The details of the adventure I will relate to ou atsome future time; for the undertak- ing was not unattended with danger. I | had warned the young Sahib, before: setting out, not to have Hydrabad approach him, or touch his arm ; but when [ returned, the mis- chief was done. Hydrabad had stolen in while he slept, and dropped the deadly agent into the wound. His condition, this morning, you can yourself recall to mind. I had sup- osed nothing would transpire before morn- ing, and was shocked and alarmed at what I beheld. You know what followed. You saw the wily Hydrabad come in. You heard the words of Kavanagh concerning Mr. Bar- nabas, and what be said when he came in, he having been instructed by me. My mistress, behold this vial!” She held up the serpen- tine vial. “It sparkles in the red rays of the sinking sun like the souls of a hundred dia- monds !”” “Truly, girl, it is like concentrated white flame! And so you dropped a drop of this glittering fluid into the wound ?” “T dropped it into the wound, my mistress, and the Sahib lives.” “Tt is most wonderful! Why was this kept from me ?” “Why does anything happen that happens? Why did Hydrabad come? Why did your lover come? Why are all things as they are? Because it is the will of God!” replied Alethe, with humility. “A strange reason, but perhaps a good one. My impatient and impulsive nature might not have been able to practice the necessary restraint.” Melicent paused, then laid her right hand on the girl’s breast. “ Alethe ?” she said—her accents were melancholy. “My mistress!” responded Alethe. “ Answer me this question. Do you hear me, Alethe ?” “T hear you, mistress.” “ Answer this question, and answer it tru- ly: Does Ida Macgregor—does Ida Mac- gregor—” Melicent’s voice failed her Alethe kissed her lips, and answered : “Yes, sweet mistress, Ida loves him!” Melicent threw her arms around the girl’s neck, and sobbed like a child. Althe felt the hot tears raining on her neck. She drew the exquisite head nearer and nearer, kept her soft lips on the white forehead, and tap- i the smooth cheeks continuously with er little hand. There was ineffible balm in the silent ministrations of the girl. Never, never had Melicent realized the inestimable treasure of human sympathy. She clung to Alethe as if every hope and every happiness was in her. The girl knew the mockery of words, and did not interrupt this passionate outburst of emotion. She permitted her to weep on, unrestrained. The paroxysm gradually passed ; the tears ceased to flow, the sobs melted to sighs, and the sighs became leng- thened respirations. She was presently calm again. Embrac- ing Alethe tenderly, she looked at the setting sun, and said, with composure : “Tt is time to return. But before we go back, let me see you enter the hollow of this tree. Really, my friend, it seems impossible that this apparently solid trunk can contain a human being.” “ You shall see!” cried Alethe, smilingly, and pushing away the grass, disappeared so suddenly that Melicent doubted the evidence of her eyes. : No sooner had the girl entered, than with a terrified cry she sprang out. “ Hafiz! poor Hafiz!” she cried, wringing her hands. “ This is the reward of his faith- fulness. This is his recompense for his de- yotion to me!” “What is the matter?” asked Melicent. “You are shocked and terrified.” ; “The poor youth,” cried Alethe, * will never watch more. He is dead; he lies cold on the ground. He has been discovered and slain. I stumbled over his body; I touched Hatiz! poor Hafiz |” Ys a Grieve not, Alethe. The sin of his death is not yours. Fortunately, here comes my father. His face glows with kindness! I love my father to-night.” “Waiting for another tiger, girls,” cried ey Major, “or have you set your caps for a Thug ?” “Father, hasten! Hafiz.” “ Killed Hafiz! Where is he?” said the Major, with a self-possession quite at variance with the agitated feelings of Melicent. “Tn this tree, which is hollow. Here is the entrance. There may yet be life in him, Have some one take him out,” she answered, in a flurry of excitement. “Demme,” said the Major, “if he’s dead, how can there be any life in him! ‘Take him out? Can’t I pwll him out myself? Bless your body, I’ve carried a wounded man weighing two hundred and fifty pounds, right up out of a trench, without puffing an atom. Just Pa my hand on one of his heels, and see if he won’t come out; that is, if the leg holds. AndI never knew one to pull out, demme !” The resolute Major, without more ado, flung his military cap on the ground, and getting on all fours, plunged into the hole like a bear into his den, and presently backed out, dragging poor Hafiz. “Dead!” quoth the Major. Some one has killed « Demned dead! Ishould like to know what business the boy has to be dead! Well, girl, what have you got to say about this ? ho killed him? Who tucked him in here? In the next place, how did you know that he was killed and tucked in here? This comes of woman’s inquisitiveness, I s’pose. If you hadn't been inquisitive, you wouldn’t known anything about it, and I shouldn't had my feelings hurt, demme !” “Alethe was showing me the hollow in the tree,” replied Melicent, “when, to her horror, she felt a dead body,” “That's just the way! if there’s anything disagreeable, that girl is sure to find it out. If she'd minded her business, nobody would have been shocked, and Hafiz would have slept in the patriarch,” growled the Major. “This is very said. ok at him, father!” “Tam looking at him. Can't see stab, jab, nor shot. A person ought to be stabbed, jabbed, orshot! If he isn't, he has no right to die a violent death.” “ Look at his neck,” said Alethe. “ What the devil should I look at his neck for! Come; don’t dictate to a man that’s mounted breaches, sword in hand. Such nonsense wont answer, you see. Bless my vody! Here's a regular welt round the neck. The poor lad died by a cord!” Me R Thug!” exclaimed Alethe. “A Thug!” gasped Melicent. “A Thug, demme!” yociferated the Major, semewhat awed. “This accursed country ought to be sunk; and I'd sink it, if I had the management of it. If you want to killa person shoot him, stab him, poison him ; but, demme, don’t put a string round his neck! You're pale, Melicent. ‘What's the use of being pale? Might as well laugh as cry |” The Major ground his teeth together and shook his fists in the air. His honest nature was aroused. He wanted to draw his sword and immolate somebody. He wished all the Stranglers in India had but one neck, and he had that neck between his thumb and finger. Would he not wring that neck? CHAPTER XIII. BRACEGIRDLE. Alethe only knew the manner in which Hafiz had met his death. It was evident to her that he had hidden himself in the tree, to observe the movements of Hydrabad ; and had, unhappily, been discovered and stran- gled by the crafty native. With her knowl- edge of the circumstances, this seemed a nat- Bray and probable solution of the subject. e M: ajor gazed at Hafiz a long time. ° The purple track around his neck filled him with peculiar horror. He thought of Ida, and was more than ever grateful for her de- liverance from a like fate. ~ AV hers is Hydrabad?” he asked, ab- ruptly. either Melicent nor Alethe could answer this question. “T haven't seen the white-eyed devil since morning. I must shoot him at a venture, demme! Or, if I had a few faithful Sepoys, hanging would be better. But Sepoys can’t be trusted now,” sighed the Major. “No-
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body is to be trusted “now.” (He pointed to the body of Hafiz.) “We have secret ene- ries in our midst. Satan is in our own household. Those who eat from cur plate and drink from our cup deceive us. Haw long shall these things be ?” ts there no way of escape from this dreadful country ?” asked Melicent. “We are hemmed in on every side, my child. There is a circle of fire around us. india is abandoned to rapine and murder The sword of the avenging Sepoy waves warningly over our heads. I can no longer conceal from you that we are not safe for a day—not eyen for an hour. There have been dreadful doings at OCawnpoor and Delhi. ‘The revolted natives are prowling Hydrabad, the Strangler. courage enough to tell your father, without regard to consequences. The truth is, Ma- jor, the critter tried to pizen the Lieutenant jist out o’ jealousy, and spife, and intarnal wickedness generally. But he didn’t quite do it. You see this Hutte gal, don't ye, Ma- jor?” He pointed at Alethe, and his face beamed all over. “You see that sample of eye, don’t ye? Well, ’twas that sort o’ ma- terial that was on hand, and took the wind out o’ his sails quicker’n you can say ‘dem- me?” “Demme!” exclaimed Rainbold. “That's about E pluribus! Demme's pretty much the talk for the times. Tain’t a profane man, Major, but I’ve no objections to through the country like hordes of ravenous tigers. The European residents are being swept away with tearful haste. The circle narrows upon us. One of our servants, whom I can yet rely on, brought me tidings this afternoon of new inhumanities. The in- furiated wretches are surging in this direc- tion. They may be here to-morrow—they ‘aay be here to-night. It is of you and Ida that I think.” “ Would not the Government, if it knew your sitttation, send some soldiers to your re- lief?” asked Melicent. “Tf they were native soldiers, my poor girl, our danger instead of being lessened would be increased ; for the Sepoys still in the service of the Government cannot be trusted out of sight of their masters. They will not fight their brethren without a regi- ment of British troops behind them. e can neither reach the little garrison at Cawn- poor nor the heroes besieged at Lucknow. flere we are, about as helpless as possible. Neal Kavanagh has got himself eaten by a tiger, and lies on his back in a miserable state ; and there’s nobody.to fight but the tall American, Bracegirdle, and myself.” “Don’t count much on Bracegirdle.” « Ah! he’s hors du combat, is he?” Major Rainbold laughed. “Wounded, is he, by those two howitzers of yours? Can't carry the works—can he? ‘The dog hasn't mettle enough. When I's a young man of his age, I wouldn’t have abandoned a besieged for- tress on no account. I'd laid under the walls six months, carrying my lines of circumyal- lation nearer every day, demme! I don’t believe the boy knows how to work his bat- ieries.” ‘ y « Nor will he ever learn,” replied Melicent, seriously. “Tsn’t he good at a short range, eh ?” “He's good at nothing,” interposed Alethe, “but bad at Ais Avani 8 “Come, come,” replied Rainbold, pleas- antly, “her own carronade is enough. She shall have no re-enforcement. Maynor shall have fair play, and if he can make a breach and storm the citadel, like a gallant fellow, let him do it. Don’t you open fire on him, rirl. If you do, I'll take you in hand myself, Twin, demme!” “My mistress will never strike her flag to him,” muttered Alethe, tossing her head. “This is against all authority and disci- pline. I tell you the siege shall go on b regular age and nobody shall med- dle or make.” “Father,” answered Melicent, with emo- tion, “you are fatally deceived in Raynor Bracegirdle. I regret to tell you that he is utterly unworthy of your friendship, trust, and hospitality. He has neither principle nor magnanimity, honor nor candor.” They were walking toward the house. The Major’stopped and looked searchingly at his daughter. hese are grave charges,” he said ; “but you are a girl of sense, Melicent. If Raynor had committed murder, you couldn't speok much worse of him. He is the son of an old {riend. Don’t talk about the son of an old friend, unless you have reason.” “Major,” returned Melicent, smiling ten- derly, and taking her father's hand; “the son of an old friend deceived you! Raynor Bracegirdle and that dark spirit, Hydrabad, are leagued together in evil. But for Alethe, your brave and generous friend, Kavanagh, would now be past inedication.” They had reached the veranda, and Bar- nabas Hutton came out to meet them. His ready ears caught the concluding words of Melicent. “Right, Miss Rainbold, right! I’m glad *Lethe’s told ye about it, and that you’ve got . unitin’ with ye in sayin’ demme!” “Demme! repeated the Major, setting his teeth hard together. “Demme!” echoed Barnabas, with becom- ing spirit. “ Yes, he tried to pizen him. He dropped a drop o’ some kind 0’ con- founded stuff into that tiger-chaw, which was worse nor aker-fortis biled down, and went into his system like the knockerlation o’ smallpox. You wouldn't nat'rally suppose that an animile so big as my Methuselah should haye anything to do with so small a thing as a drop o’ pizen. But he did! And he had some’at to do”—he glanced archly at Alethe”—with something a little larger nor a drop 0’ pigen, and a wounded sight more wholesome. “Tell me how the boy is, now ?” interrupt- ed’the Major, in a great heat. “He's E pluribus, demme!” responded Barnabas, with unwonted energy. “ But he couldn’t been E pluribus demme if it hadn't been for her.” “Confound it! will you try and get at something ?” blurted the Major. * We're gettin’ at the pizen, and the anec- dote to the pizen, about as rapid as an ele- phant can trot. Pizen and anecdotes go together, you know, like a man and his wife ; which allers neutralizes each other, and counteracts each other in every way, shape, and natur’. ‘ Bring out Methuselah,’ sez she. So I brought him out. ‘Make him kneel,’ sez she. So I made him kneel. Then we scrambled on his back, and scuttled away like fury arter the anecdote, though, mind ye, I hadn't no more idee that I was goin for an anecdote than nothin’. We whisked along astonishin’. There wasn’t nothin’ but one blur o’ jungles afore our eyes. I can’t tell how many tigers, lions, and other ani- mile kingdoms we run down on the way ; ‘twixt a hundred wagin-loads, probably.’ “Can't you get along a little faster, Mr. Hutton ?” queried the Major, who preferred practical facts to immaterial details. “Tm goin’ as fast as the elephant can get over the ground. As I was sayin’, on we went, at elephantine speed, till we come to the hut, cave, or den, where the great Moon- she burrowed. We alighted from our con- veyance, and ’Lethe popped in upon the Moonshe, and was out 0’ sight a good spell. Presently I heerd a little seream—the pret- tiest little scream that ever come to my ears —and was mighty anxious. “Push in, Methuselah,’ sez I, and he crushed the door immediate. Springin’ in, I see—” “You necd not tell what you saw. Mr. Barnabas,” interrupted Alethe. “TI rather you would not tell what you saw, Mr. Bar- nabas.” “ Jest as you say, Miss; it’s all E pluribus to me,” said Hutton. “So we'll slur over the cord-business, and come to the gray- bearded old Moonshe at onct, who was proper loth to give up the anecdote, or coun- ter-pizen, and it was only by threatenin’ him with death by Methuselah that we succeeded pli ew in gittin’ a little crooked bottle, about as big round as your darter’s smallest finger, and as white.” “You've made a needlessly long story of it, Mr. Hutton. » You might have said that you went somewhere and got an antidote, applied it in time, counteracted the poison, saved Kavanagh’s life, and ended the whole thing in three sentences,” retorted the Major. “Demme, sir, you want the bluff brevity of a soldier !” ; “Hold on, Major! Stick your sword: there. Wasn’t you two hours, yesterday, workin’ in ditches, trenches, handlin’ sealin’- ladders and mountin’ breaches, and makin’ racket enough with musketry and artillery to stun a nation, when you might a said, ‘I took 13 | the fortress’, which would told the story in four words.” “You've cornered me, demme! And you are an honest man, which is more than I can ay of anybody here but myself.” ‘The Major lrew a couple of revolvers from his pockets, and begau to examine them. «What you goin’ todo with them, Major ?” asked Barnabas. “Tf you're a brave man, I shouldn’t think you'd ask!” retorted Rainbold, tartly. “EB pluribus, Major!” said Hutton, nodding his head, knowingly. “That’sright. 1 want- ed to go into the ‘business permiscuously this mornin’; but the gals wheedled me out ont. The gals can do most anything with me, I guess. I allers succumb to muslin and eyes. Eyes, mind ye!” He glanced at Alethe with unusual significance. “There was allers etarnally a soft streak in my character. I wish to the Lord folks could be made with- out soft streaks in their characters.” Barnabas mused on that subject a moment. Then, to the Major : “You'll shoot, of course? But it’s too easy for such a rogue. Can’t you call one or two of the natyyes, and run him up some- where? There's plenty o’ trees, you know.” “No, Mr. Hutton, I cannot hang him. He is the son of my friend !” ; ajor Rainbold grew very thoughtful. Another feeling mingled with his anger. He began to doubt whether he could shoot the son of his friend. There was a painful struggle within. Barnabas perceived it. “ Major,” said he, gravely, “I see how it is with you. You can’t doit! No, you can’t! There's a notion of honor inside of you that is stronger than your just resentment. I'll take the matter off your hands. Ue is not the son of my friend; and I thank the good Lord for it! What's he fit for, Major? Ishe fit to live? He isn’t. Is he fit todie? As fit as he'll ever be, if he goes on as he’s be- gun. The quicker he’s destroyed, the better man he'll die. So, if I find him, I'll just say to him: ‘Mister Bracegirdle, you ani I are to have a shootin’-match. ake this re- volver or this ‘un, for they are loaded pre- cisely alike, and hold six shots apiece, and station yourself yender, and when I’ve count- ed three, blaze away at me, and do your best to hit me, forI shall hit you, you may de- pend on’t!’ Words to that purport I shall use.” Hutton had taken the pistols from Rain- bold, and stood with them in his hand, as quietly and composedly as if the purpose he meditated were an eyeryday affair. “Tf you propose to treat the villain in this manner,” said the Major, “you'll do him too much Brace, and put your own honest life in jeopardy.” “Life,” returned Barnabas, “is allers in danger. Neither you norl can git out o’ this world till we're wanted in another.” “ You but waste time,” said Alethe ; “I saw the Englishman ride from the bungalow half an hourago. A rogue must be caught before he oan be punished.” “Go in, children,” said the Major, kindly. “Mr. Hutton and I must put our wits to- gether and devise, if possible, a method of warding off the many dangers that beset us. Bi may at any moment become necessary ; and Heaven only knows where we can ily for safety.” Melicent and the girl entered the bunga low, and the Major and Barnabas passed to and fro in the veranda, conversing earnestly. CHAPTER XIV, THE SEPOYS. Suddenly, Barnabas Hutton sprang from the veranda and ran swiftly toward the jun- le: The Major, surprised at the action, fol- owed at a slower pace ; but had not proceed- ed far, when he heard a pistol-shot, speedily followed by another. Barnabas reappeared in a moment. “JT caught a glimpse of our man,” he said, “as I stood in the veranda. He was mount- ed on his horse, ridin’ moderately along. I run arter him, as you see, thinkin’ it was a ood time to settle that matter. When I got dowd there by the palm-trees, I catched sight of him agin. He was settin’ on his animile, a talkin’ with two wild-lookin’ men I called to him to come to me on partic lar business ; instead o’ which he tes tail and started off at a gallop, when I sent a couple o’ shots ar- ter him, jest as an intimation of my good-will, and to keep him at a proper distance; for I
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i ! i | | t ul ae tell you, Major, the further he is from you and yours, the safer you'll be.” “Tam of the same mind,” answered Rain- bold. “To tell you the truth, Iam greatly astonished at my own blindness respecting the son of my friend.” “Tl tell you, Major, where the mistake was: you took him on trust. If he’d been the son of somebody you knew nothing about, you'd had your eyes open, [ll be bound.” “ Tixactly !” said Rainbold. “ We are often- er deceived by other people than ourselves. One ought to follow the dictates of his own common-sense, instead of taking for granted what remains to be proved.” Rainbold had scarcely concluded this sage observation, when six Sepoys, with musket at shoulder, and pistol and dagger at side, defil- ed from the trees in the quarter of the usual approach to the grounds, and marched with a very soldier-like air to the front of the bun- bog where, seeing the Major, they saluted im in military style. “Keep close to me, Barnabas!’ whispered Rainbold, whose surprise was only equaled by his distrust.. “Keep close to me, for there’s no knowing what these fellows mean.” Then stepping forward and returning their salute, he said: “What brings you here, my fine fellows ?” “Major,” answered one of the sepoys, re- spectiully, “your friend, General Havelock, sent us to you; thinking, in these troubled times, you might want us.” “The General was ever a warm friend and a considerate oflicer,” replied Major Rainbold, disguising his suspicions. “In what condi- tion did you leave Cawnpoor ?” “Olosely besieged,” replied he who had spoken. “Tt being closely besieged, how did you leave it?” asked the Major, carelessly. “May it please you, Sahib, we have not been in Cawnpoor,” said the Sepoy, touching his cap. “General Hayelock is on his way torclieve the suffering garrison ; and knowing the deeds that are daily done by the mutinous and disaffected, and that you were not a mo- ment safe, dispatched us to you with all haste. Tt was a difficult matter, Major, to elude and deceive our desperate countrymen ; but, by the will of God, here we are.” “Very fine martial fellows, too!” said the Major, shaking hands with the spokesman of the party. “If I was able to take the field again, I should want no greater honor than to command a regiment of such straight sol- dier-like boys. ‘To the right, face! March yonder to the quarters of my lazy louts, and tell them it is my order that you have the best that can be found, both to eat and to drink.” ‘The Sepoys, stiff and military, walked like automatons toward the huts of the servants, Rainbold watched them till they disappear- ed. “What do you think, Mr. Hutton?” he asked. “Is this a blessing or otherwise ?” “Major,” answered Barnabas, “it don’t seem to me E pluribus. Itdon’t. No! That Genera: Havelock should think of a wound- ed oflicer some thirty miles distant, while surrounded by those yaller devils, and not a man to spare, fightin’ his way foot Pe, foot to- ward Cawnpoor, is some’at to me that isn’t quite clear.” ‘ “You speak my own doubts,” said Rain- bold, in a troubledtone. “In those men who have just left us, I have not a particle of faith. My poor girls! my gd rl Barnabas—” he held out his hand to Hutton, and his voice quayered—* They must not fall into the hands of the Sepoys !” & “ Heayen, in its infinite goodness, forbid !” exclaimed Barnabas, with more feeling than Rainbold had given him credit for. “Td sooner shoot em with this right hand, than see em thus abused; than see ’em thus aban- doned to degradation and shame, and cruelty terrible!” 2 Hutton was so inspired, that his manner was really dignified and noble. “Jt were indeed a mercy to give the dear creatures death to save them from outrage, And if worst comes to worst, I will trust in ‘ou, my friend. Icould not do it! The in- effable love that is within me would turn the ‘weapon sooner upon myself,” said Rainbold, hoarsely. “Major,” cried Barnabas, with a tear on his cheek, “you're E A ce Tl stand by ou, my hearty, till allis blue. Sink me, if fdon't draw my sword and hack, gash, slash, Hydrabad, the Strangler. und chop. for you, as long as I can move a | muscle! And not for you only, but for them, youknow Forthem! Them is too tender, and sweet, and handsome, to be clapperclaw- ed by such sooty devils. They be. Yes! I see where you are, Major Rainbold. I’m glad I’m here to help ye. in a place, at different p’ints, within a given distance of the bungalow. There’s only six of ’em, at the most; and in partin’’em you destroy their strength. The story about be- in’ sent by Havelock hasn’t a word’s truth in’t, Scatter ‘em about in this way, and leaye the rest to Barnabas Hutton and his elephant.” “Ah, that elephant,” said the Major, thoughtfully. “The same !” replied Barnabas, with pride. *“ Methuselah is worth a dozen Seboys, any time. I have only to whisper in one of his large ears to make him know what's wanted. He’s do-cile with his master but mistrustful of strangers. His rage is terrific. Play him @ trick, and see if he don’t remember it! If I should say to him, ‘Methuselah, pull down this bungalow,’ he’d tear it to bits afore you could bring out your rupees. Major, Methu- selah shall go the rounds to-night.” Barnabas took Rainbold by the sleeve, and added : “Tf you should have to take to your heels, he'll carry you and yours, with as much speed and safety asa steamboat or a train o’ cars. Now, my friend, go in and load all your firearms, and leave me outside a while.” “Mr. Hutton, I like your advice so well that I shall follow it.” So the Major went in, leaving Barnabas to take such precautions as his sharp wit would suggest, and to give warning if danger seemed near. CHAPTER XV. YES, MR. BARNABAS ! The six native soldiers, having been abun- dantly supplied with food, sauntered back to the bungalow in a fashion much less military than they had come into the presence of Ma- jor Rainbold. They were received by Bar- uabas Hutton and his elephant; a reception which, manifestly, did not give them satis- faction. Without mincing matters, he at once assumed control of their movements. With Methuse- lah rolling lazily at his side, he placed one at one place, another at another, and so on till the six were disposed of. He ended this highly military manceuyer by informing the Sergeant who commanded the party, that Major Rainbold, with the few English friends who had arrived that afternoon, would sleep in the bungalow, ready to start up at the first intimation of danger; an announcement ynih was received ‘without visible emo- on. These preliminaries being settled, Hutton and his dumb companion walked slowly and monotonously the rounds, in a circle not on: ly comprising the house, but the sentinels and a portion ofthe grounds. The patient Methuselah went surging uncomplainingly on his beat, with his master by his side, at first, but, anon on his broad back. The dim night-hours slipped silently away. About midnight, when Barnabas was passing the hollow banyan, which was within the orbit of his beat, he was suprised at behold- ing the figure of Alethe, and instantly let himself down from his lofty perch. “ Be quiet, Mr. Barnabas,” she said. “ Your voice is apt to be loud.” “T’ll be whatever you bid me, Brownie,” replied Barnabas. «What brings you here ? I should think you’d be afeared of your shad- der, e’enamost. Sepastonally: I feel queer my- self; and, in fact,” he added, with a sigh, “I allers feel queer when I see your eyes.” “ Speak very low, Mr. Barnabas ! I come to tell you of the danger. I’ve carried arrack to some of the men, and talked freely of the En- glish. They have come to rob and to mur- er; and Hydrabad sent them,” said Alethe. “ Are you sure of this!” asked Hutton anx- ously. “They are my countrymen; we speak the same language. Why should I not hear and apprehend ?” “ You should do both.” “TY have done so, Mr. Barnabas. The men , are to be killed, the women carried away. | This is the work of Hydrabad.” _ As soon as them | critters have eat and drunk, station ’em one | “The tawny devil!” muttered Hutton. “The spirit of evil dwells in him. You may call him Satan, and do him no wrong. | Mr. Barnabas, the young Englishman, thoug brave, is unable to fight ; the Major can, and will fight ; but it is to you that we must look mainly for help. If you cannot save us, we had better never been born !” “But you, Lethe, have nothin’ to fear. You are a natyve.” “T shall fare no better than the English la- dies,” she replied, sadly. “I am not much like my people. I have become English in habit, education, association, and thought. My skin is somewhat dark, Mr. Barnabas, but that circumstance will not greatly serve me in the hour of murder and cruelty.” “You are more English than I, Miss Lethe ; you use the English language a deal better norIcan. ButIs’pose it comes o’ livin’ with eddicated ladies. Eddicated ladies has the tongue, Lethe, yet Barnabas Hutton has the heart.” “Nothing could be truer, Mr. Barnabas, than what you last said. But we are spend- ing that which we shall perhaps want, by and by. Melicent and Ida have sent me to you. They walk to and fro, wringing their hands. Mr. Kavanagh has arisen and dressed himself; he has his pistols in his bosom, his left arm in a sling, and in his right hand his sword. He is wonderfully changed since morning, He feels no pain. His cheeks glow, but not with fever ; his arm is no longer hot and swollen, but his mortal agony is intolerable. He paces his chamber, pronouncing continually the the names of Ida and Melicent.” “He ought to speak yours too,” said Bar- nabas. The girl bowed her head meekly, and sighing, said: : “Mr. Barnabas, I am aservant. Why should the handsome European talk of one so humble.” ; “Lethe,” replied Hutton, quite affected, “There was some’at that pained me in your voice when you said them last words. I don’t know what it was, but it pinched me like the p’int ofa dagger. Perhaps you don’t know what I mean, Lethe?” “T do! I do!” sobbed the girl. “TI thank you most fervently. I thank you on my nees, Mr. Barnabas! Yours is the only voice that speaks to me <s I would be spoken to.” “No, Brownie, you don’t mean that,” an- swered Barnabas, sadly. “You mean there is some’at in my voice that you wish was in the voice of another. That is what you wish, Brownie, and that is what youmean. I know ou’d shrink from tellin’ on’t, or lettin’ it be nown in any manner; but the man as loves you; the man as loyes you true and honest ; and as loves you only ; and as loves you the first and the last, can see it, and know it, and feel it.” “Oh, Mr. Barnabas!” gasped Alethe. “ Be silent, my pretty ‘un! Don’t say noth- in’ that you don’t want to say. Don’t be be- trayed into an unguarded expression by me. I ain’t the man as would intrude. Not at all —not in the least. But, Brownie dear, un- derstand this: I am your friend; true and tried, and constant, and undoubting, and to the end, and arter the end, if there is anything arter the end. That's what I am! That’s what Barnabas Hutton is. And he hopes to prove it.” “O Mr. Barnabas!” i “You say it pleasant. You're so good in- side, that you wouldn’t care to hurt one’s pride and sensitiveness. I love you deep and true, as I said; but I shan’t tell youon't; I shall keep it to myself, nigh about. But I'll tell ye what I can do; I can fight for you awful! I can take you under one arm, and clear a path for you with the other through an army of men. That's what I can do. Are you hearin’ me, Brownie ?”’ “ Yes, Mr. Barnabas !” Her accents were marvelously soft and sil- very. Barnabas felt as if a thousand notes of music were thrilling upon his ears simulta- neously. His honest nature knew not what to do with its sweet yet torturing burden. So he let a watery drop or two run down his round cheeks. “Mr. Barnabas, will you shake hands with me ?” asked Alethe, modestly. “Will I go to heaven!” asked Barna- bas. "Bo he took the brown little hand, and after \
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shaking it, kissed it. He felt infinitely hap- pier. He didn’t know what made him hap- pier, but he did know the fact. ‘They stood | some time together, he holding her hand all the while. He didn’t take advantage of holding her hand, and so she trusted him the more. “T s’pose it’s impossible?” said Barnabas, finally. “Tt may not be,” said Alethe, gently. The moon shone very brightly, just then ; and the stars had a wondrous contentment in them. “Tt's the Sepoys, you know!” said Alethe, by and by. “ Yes, it’s the Seboys!” responded Barna- bas, kissing her hand again. She drew it away, saying : «You won't let us fall into their hands Mr. Barnabas ?” “Not while I live! Not while I live, *Lethe! I won’t be responsible for what takes place arter ['mdead; but while the breath o” life is in me, you won’t fall, alive, into the hands of them tawny murderers.” Barnabas Hutton, with his disengaged hand, caressed the trunk of his elephant, looked at the stars, and then at the eyes of Alethe. Whatever might come, he thought he could never be miserable again. “T am going back,” said Alethe, softly. “My soul will go with Aa replied Bar- nabas, “and my body will go as far as the veranda.” “JT shall tell them how faithful you are,” added Alethe. “I care for the opinion of one woman, only,” said Barnabas. And so they parted at the veranda. He never saw such a night before, did Barnabas. He never expected to see another such night, did Barnabas. They never come but once, such nights! Never! Never! Never! Few know it, though; very few know it, and none realize it. Barnabas went his rounds again, carrying with him avery different world from what he cominenced the night with. It was a very ood night! It was a very good moon! ‘hose were very good stars! Danger had nothing to do with Barnabas ; Barnabas had nothing to do with danger. And that was all. He was not prepared, yet, for another thought. It was necessary that he should go round a little on the back of Methuselah to get hold of the recent Barnabas. He got hold of him presently—sturdier, stronger, bolder thenever. Alethe had so got into his arms and his imagination, that he didn’t suppose there was a Sepoy in the world that could stand before him. CHAPTER XVI. A PLEASANT THING TO HAVE GIRLS ON YOUR HBART. The change that took place in Neal Kay- anagh during the day in which the myste- rious antidote had been applied, was very marked and wonderful. The dreamy, half- conscious state into which he fell was fol- lowed, by and by, by a refreshing sleep, from which he awoke late in the afternoon, free from fever, and without pain. To find him- self watched over by Ida Macgregor, was a knowledge that thrilled him with pleasure. He passed the intervening time until dark, in cheerful conversation, referring as little as practicable to the cause of his sudden illness. Miss Macgregor, from the window, wit- nessed the arrival of the native soldiers. “We are not forgotten by our friends, Mr. Kayanagh,” she said. “Here are re-enforce- ments for the Major.” “ Re-enforcements?” asked Kavanagh, with bewilderment. “Yes. One, two, three, four, five, six! Six Sepoys, with muskets on shoulder, and side-arms in belt. O Mr. Kavanagh, we shall be protected!” “ Sepoys!” muttered Kavanagh, aghast. “ Assuredly, Mr. Kavanagh. Why not?” said Ida, hee “Ts there an Hnglish officer with them Miss Macgregor ?” “No,” replied Ida, slightly surprised at his earnestness. “ Miss Macgregor,” cried Kavanagh, in a startling tone, “ you had better see six ray- enous tigers before your guardian’s house, than those six Sepoys !” Ida was astounded. She contemplated the pale and apprehensive face of Kavanagh with , ; Hydrabad, the Strangler. unaffected amazement. She did not recover immediately from the shock. ‘The young man’s meaning went throbbing through her brain. ‘The real danger untolded before her. “O Mr. Kavanagh!” she murmured. “ You haye put my blood in a flutter. Iam faint at heart. Instead of our safety, they are our danger. How could I, for a moment, have been so incredibly blind !” “These,” he added, dismally, “are the carrion-crows that scent a gorge afar off. They must be looked to, Miss “Macgregor. Will you kindly act as my servant, and re- quest Major Rainbold to come to me instant- ly. And, Miss Macgregor, place my pistols on this table within my reach ; they hang on yonder hook. ‘Thank you! Now, please has- ten to the Major.” The moment Ida left the room, Kavanagh sprang from the bed, fastened the door, and dressed himself. His left arm gave him some trouble, but he managed the business very well with his right. He had completed his toilet before the Major appeared. “Demme, Sir, what do you mean!” was the bluff salutation of that officer. “ What right have you to get up and dress without orders? We must have discipline in the garrison, my boy.” “My dear Major, bodily I feel wonderfully well; but my mind is ill at ease. Whence came these yellow Sepoys?” answered the young man. “From the devil, I think !” grumbled Rain- bold. “And I should like to send them back to him post-haste.” «Thank Heayen! You are aware of the danger !” exclaimed Kavanagh. “i have been too longa soldier, to be de- ceived by a shallow artifice.” “What disposition will you make of them ?” “J have committed them to the hands of Pais and his elephant,” replied Rain- old. “A very discreet arrangement. I have in- finite faith in the sagacity of Barnabas Hut- ton. What does he propose to do?” “Scatter ’em about, under the pretence of having them watch the bungalow, to guard against surprise. They’ve gone to the huts of my servants to gorge. When Barnabas has posted them, you shall have a glimpse of ’em yourself from the windows. e will then be governed by circumstances; if we don’t anticipate their deviltry, it'll be strange, dem- me!" Major Rainbold had buckled on his sword, and thereupon shook it till it rattled in the scabbard. He looked from a window commanding a view of the servants’ quar- ters. “Gorge, you wolves!” he growled. “Gorge, while you have the chance! The opportunity won't lastlong. Improve it, you hounds !” “What of your native servants, Major?” Kavanagh inquired, uneasily. % pam <avanagh, many of ’em have run away, leaving me mostly women and chil- dren. There are but three or four able-bod- ied men among my serfs. Well, let’em go! It is better to lose *em than trust ’em.” “far better! Yet it would perhaps have been still better had you shot them before they started.” “T didn't have that privilege, my boy! They didn't have the politeness to announce their intentions.” “If you have four male servants,” said Kavanagh, musingly, “ you may add just that number to the Sepoys; for, my word for it, they'll be the first tv have their hands at your throat. Ah, Major, you should see the sights that I have seen! ‘The hackings, hangings, shootings, and mutilations! We have taken the monsters while their hands were yet wet with the blood of tender women. Enormity and outrage have held high carnival. Euro- pean Christianity may shudder at the idea of shooting these miscreants from guns, from marching them out to death in squads of tens and twenties, from hunting them down with- out pity, from slaying without judge or jury ; but those only who have witnessed the atroci- ties of the native soldiers can judge correctly of the stern retaliation demanded.” “ Spoken like a soldier, if not like a Chris- tian,” said Rainbold. “Major,” continued Kavanagh, “ not one of those Sepoys must return to his compan- ions with the story of the murder and outrage of Major Rainbold’s family.” “Thet is my determination. There are 15 various ways of disposing of them. For in- stance, we might cail them in, one at a time, and whip offtheir heads.” “Tf they have the ferocity of the panther, they have also the cunning of the fox,” an- swered Kavanagh. “I doubt if one of the number could be decoyed into the house, alone. We do not trust them; they do not trust us. My dear Major’—a flush of fever darted into his cheeks—“ you have priceless treasures beneath thisroof. You have beau- ty, innocence, and helplessness. They must be defended, though our own breasts form the only rampart between them and the foe. We are not to think that we have counted our en- emies in those six grim soldiers. We may suppose that others are lurking in the jungle ; and when the flames begin to stream from this roof, they, by accident or through com- plicity, will be here, or rush to the spot.” “Of course, Ihave thought of this. The heart of a father does not sleep in times like these. I have more at stake than rupees. There is my Melicent and my Ida—both my children ; one of the proper issue of my body, the other of my aifections. Let me be just, Savenarhd let me speak of Alethe; more my child than you wot of.” ainbold’s hand rested quietly on the hilt of his sword, and his eyes appeared to be un- pRcoryanty, busy with something on the oor. “ Yes,” said Kavanagh, with a sigh, “ there is Alethe! Ofall men, I should be the last to forget Alethe.” “ Kavanagh, my boy, you ought to be shot from a gun, if you forget Alethe !” Rainbold spoke with feeling. His eyes seemed belogged and rather dim. “My dear Major,” added Kavanagh, “I honor your sensibility. Never blush for Alethe. Her dark and glorious beauty isa thing to wonder at. The blood of India is softened by that of England, if I err not, and everlasting shame be upon him who blushes to own her!” “You're a lad after my own heart, demme !” cried the impulsive Rainbold, seizing the young officer by his wounded arm and giving ita jerk that nearly took the life from his body. ‘You're a man,demme! Youre just aman, demme! Bring me somebody that denies it; bring him right along. I want to see that person !” The excited Major gave Kavanagh’s arm another wrench. “Really, my friend,” said the Lieuten- ant, wincing, “ you are dislocating my injur- ed arm.” “Ah,” added Rainbold, “if my Melicent, or my Ida— But what's the use? ‘There isn’t any use! Why, of course not! What the deuce are you talking about? What's the matter, eh?” “ Nothing of any consequence : only that’s my wounded arm that you've got hold of!” groaned oe smniling feebly. j “Bless my body! I’ve started the blood, haven’tl? Demme, Sir, what did you let me hurt you for? Haven’t you any feeling, Sir? Dear me! let me call the girls. Girls know how to fix these things, Sir. Which will you have; one or three?” * The Major’s distress was ludicrous. “Handsome villain!” he added, making a dive at the arm. “Insidious allurer! How have you repaid my hospitality? What with Thugs, and what with tigers, and what with Bracegirdle, and what with Hydrabad, and what with drops and antidotes, midnight- journeys, mystery and moonshees, you've played the devil with my household !” * Dear Major—” “Tl send up Ida, you traitor! My own girl, perchance, may have a random heart- ache on account of that tiger; but she has too much sense, and is too much like her father, demme, to be dazzled by a mere acci- dental: victory over a four-footed beast. Hither of the three is too good for a Lieu- tenant m the British Army; although, if you insist upon it, I suppose I shall have to sacrifice one of ’em. Well, it don't make much difference to me whether it’s the haugh- ty-headed queen — that’s Melicent—or the sweet and dignified saint—that’s Ida—or tie dreamy, soft-eyed houri—which is Alethe. They’re all on my hands—and on my heart, too, my boy. It’s the pleasantest thing to have girls on your heart! You never had ’em on your heart, did you? It's the sweet- est trouble to have ’em on your heart!” The Major's hand slid from the bilt of hia
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(ae of thought in the Major’s head. It didn’t hurt the Major; it humanized him. So the Major presently arose—a better Major than when he came in; a better man than when he came in; a milder-faced gen- tleman than when he came in; a happier person than when he came in. CHAPTER XVII. THE ZODIACAL LIGHTS. Ida came up, rather trembling and down- east; rather uncertain and startled; rather of the opinion that something would happen. Something happened. Kavanagh made it happen. And it was in this manner: When Ida entered there was an unusual glow and fervor on his face. The danger and responsibility had inspired him. He was walking to and fro, in a state of mind both disturbed and exalted. He had girt his sword to his side, and placed his pistols in his belt, fully and entirely determined, in case of an assault, to sell his life dearly. The magnanimity of his nature was reflected in his countenance. “OQ Mr. Kavanagh!" exclaimed Ida. “ What madness induced you to arise? Ex- ercise will inflame your wound, and fever will set in.” “ Miss Macgregor, I am not to be thought of. I am a soldier. Soldiers are to fight, and die bravely for beauty. I am to be lost sight of utterly in this cruel strait.” “Js the peril, then, so great?” asked Ida, solemnly. “To a man and a soldier,” answered the Lieutenant, “it is but a common danger; but to a woman, soft, tender, luxuriously reared, loving and refined, it is an occasion of more than ordinary peril.” “You need not particularize,” answered Ida, fymly. “Do not imagine that I have not heard of the well at Cawnpoor.”’ She put her left hand to her eyes, as if to shut out some spectacle of horror; and turn- ing her head somewhat from him, held the palm of the right toward him, deprecatingly. t was a mute entreaty, too, to be silent on a subject that could but shock her. “Naught, I suppose, happens by acci- dent,” said Kavanagh, looXing very wish- fully at that beseeching hand. He thought he should like to have that hand near him always; he thought it would be a good hand to look to for comfort and support; he thought it might be a hand that would never betray him. He wished he could make these opinions understood; yet knew not how he might venture on such delicate ground. . So, insiead of speaking, Neal Kavanagh’s eyes went on a bashful pilgrimage from the hem of her garments to the dark line of her eye- brows; and still being afraid, traveled over the same pretty distance again. There is something pleasing in a neat waist ; there is a mute challenge to homage in well-fitied female frippery; there is a witchery, of its own kind, in a gracefully flowing skirt. But when we venture higher, to bust and eyes, and lips and locks, we are in, either for love or admiration. Add to the natural gifts of nature, and the natural definess of feminine fingers, sweet and engaging manners, lofty aims and charm- ing attainments, and an appreciated and cul- tivated young gentleman may as well strike his flag and surrender at once ; for hisshame is not in keeping the fortress of his heart, but in losing it ; and his glory is his defeat. Kavanagh wanted to say something to Ida, His heart was aching to say something; but he knew not how to approach that serene and saintly creature. “The moon shines on the banyan-trees,” said Kavanagh. “Yes,” said Ida. “Tt bas shone on them many centuries, Miss Ida.” “Yes,” said Miss Macgregor. | “It’s a good thing to have light from hea- ven,” added Kavanagh, not well knowing what he was saying. “I mean, that some- times the moonlight is very sweet.” Ida looked from the window into the balmy tropical night. “T have thought,” continued Kavanagh, “that man needs more light than that of the gun, or the moon, or the stars. There is a light that surpasses these. It is found in womn's eyes and in woman's love. Is it a foolish fancy, Miss Macgregor ?” all his strength to keep his breath subdued, and where it ought to be. “It may be very foolish to talk of the moon and the light of woman's eyes. Vulgar and common people laugh about such things. I never did. Theva could Because I felt a prophecy that, among ali the eyes that were in the world, there were two to beam on me. Was the thought absurd, Miss Macgregor ?” “No, Mr. Kavanagh.” The zodiacal lights flaunted up against the sky just then, and Ida fancied that they had , something to say to her privately. The boreal flame was wondrously pleasant to look at; so she kept looking: at it. “TfI were to find a woman whom I be- lieve in my heart is to be my zodiacal light and should tell her of it, do you think that she would, or ought to be, angry with me?” He gazed at Ida, and Ida gazed at the trop- ical lights. “No, Mr. Kavanagh!” she faltered. Whether she was prompted by the tropical lights or the shimmering enchantment of the moon, nobody knows. “May I understand your goodness?” he asked, in a voice that required a great deal of propping to keep it on exact equipoise. “Tf it be goodness, yes, Mr. Kavanagh.” The two stood about three feet apart. ‘They stood very still, too. It was to be wondered at that he did not drop on his knee, or seize her hand and devour it and adore it. He did not; he stood bolt upright, like a soldier. There was a humid appearance in the hori- zon of his eyes; there was a slight quivering and twitching of the muscles ofthe face ; and the blood went down toward the citadel, Jeay- ing the cheeks rather whiter than usual ; and that was about the most that could be made of it. His chest wasn’t quite right, it’s true, be- cause it hurried and forced his respiration ; but his heart didn’t stop beating, nor his blood stop flowing, as it had flowed for some twenty- five years. “ Miss Macgregor, I know not what to say. This must be some trick of that drop of poi- son. Is it possible, Miss Macgregor, that lam unders{ood ? “ Yes, Mr. Kavanagh.” The zodiacal light so flamed into Ida’s eyes that she closed them to keep it out. There was not muchcolor in her face. She was of a pure white, from her forehead to her chin. She gasped slightly, and oc-asion- al tremors moved her arms, like little spasms or waves of motion. “T am no longer ill!” said Kavanagh, huskily. “Iam well! Inever was so well in my life. This isa sweet wound. I glo in it. What can I offer in return for this bliss !” He reverently took her hand. “Mr. Kavanagh,” answered Ida, thrillingly, “jin return, you shall grant me one thing when Task it. Should that happen which we fear, do not let me fall, alive, into the hands of the Sepoys. When all is lost, and I turn to you, and clasp my hands in this man- ner”—she clasped her hands—“ give me a quick and easy death! This will be enough. This will send me back to Him as I left im. » “TI do not know,” said Kavanagh, deeply moved, “that Ican do this; but ifit be in the pores of man, I will not hesitate.” “O Mr. Kavanagh, it is in the power of man! He who can slay a tiger to preserve my life, can slay me to preserve my honor.” Her face gathered something from the ee lights ; for its purity was very beau- tiful. “Should Isee the horror, immediate, in- stant, irremediable, I will destroy the sweet- est temple that ever human spirit inhabited! But, Ida, the death that follows thine, first and speediest will be mine!” Miss Macgregor, who had withdrawn her hand, extended it again to Kavanagh. He accepted it as if it were the mystic key that was to unlock his future and reveal all there was before him of life. With that key in his hand, he saw the zodiac through her eyes, looking very hopeful and very bright. He thought he should be content to see always | with her eyes, and to live in the light of them. It was very silent outside. The swarthy Senovs stood at their several posts. “T feared you might,” he added, exerting | arna- | in friendly companionship. bas Hutton went his rounds, Taithful to his | own nature, faithful to those within. The tall, straight palm threw lengthened shad- ows on the slumbering grass; the gigantic, | spreading, and many-trunked banyan stretch- ed its sheltering arms motionless over the ‘ breathless foliage; the slender and graceful ' bamboos stood out like spears in the slug- | gish air. The night went on, following many other nights of danger. ‘The night went on in doubt, yet in quietude and safety. Neal Kavanagh never knew a night like it. Ida Macgregor never knew a night like it. A great many nights come and go in one’s life, but few of them are peaceful and happy, and leave not something to regret. The early love-nights, however, are good; for the heart is then earnest, the desires jsimple, and the mind pure. Kavanagh and Ida watched the zodiacal lights, and the dusky Sepoys, and Barnahas on his elephant, till it was very late. They experienced a calm and solemn happiness, new, bewildering, and ineffable. CHAPTER XVIII. UPAS. The light of morning brought relief to the household of Major Rainbold. Each felt thankful that nothing dreadful had occurred. The native soldiers only manifested dissatis- faction; they were sullen; they ate their food in sullenness; they drank in sullen- ness; they answered questions sullenly. Alethe said they talked much of the Ameri- can; that they looked at him much, was cer- tain; that they scowled at him, was equally true. When Barnabas approached them (which he often did during the day), they were seen to stealthily lay hands on their weapons and look dangerous. The same disposition was made of them the following night, and. Barnabas Hutton and Methuselah went the rounds as before. The four native servants, in the first of the evening, walked about the grounds with seeming carelessness; but Hutton quickly put an end to it. “My dusky boys,” said he, advancing upon them as they stood in a group under a peepul- tree, “go to your quarters.” They murmured, and turning their backs on him, fingered their daggers; for that day they lad thrust daggers into their belts. “Go to your quarters,” repeated Barnabas, “Tm cap’n here to-night. Everything is in my hands; that bungalow is in my hands ; the people in it are in my hands; the people outside on’t are in my hands, and you are in my hands. Go to your kennels, curs.” Hutton stood by his elephant, leaning against him, with his right arm around his enormous leg. The big trunk of Methuselah waved over him like a ilag. One of the servants made an insulting re- mark. Barnabas drew a pistol and shot him dead. The thing was done so quietly, yet with so much firmness, that the remaining three were astounded. Methuselah (wise old beast) strangely in sympathy with his master, sharing his excite- ment and entering into his justice, coiled his long, lithe trunk around the nearest native, and crushed his ribs with a single contrac- tion. The poor wretch, with one stifled wail of spony, dropped lifeless from the embrace of Methuselah. “It’s a good thing, old boy. It might as well be done now as ever. Strike in, old ’un; strike in! What's the use? It must happen, sooner or later, and there’s them yender that is worth a thousand of ’em—yes, a good thousand of ’em. Take ’em, Methuselah ; take ’em.” Hutton raised his voice and struck the ele- phant with his hand. The omnipotent trunk went up like lightning; it descended as swiftly, alighting on the head of one of the sullen serfs, and he never knew what hurt him. The other, with a howl, ran away. “It can’t be helped,” mutiered Hutton, “T'm the last man to do it without provoca- tion; yes, I am. I know what it’s for. I know who and what it’s to saye. Dear me, what comfort there is in doin’ good sarvice to them as you like! Lord! Lord! I wish Methuselah could have a slap at all of ’em. To think o' murderin’ a pretty white woman! To think o’ more nor that.” Honest Barnabas wound his arm around Methuselah’s trunk, and went on with him There is no
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Hydrabad, the Strangler. floubt but they both felt fond of each other. If Methuselah had pride in Hutton’s intelli- gence, Hutton had pride in Methuselah’s strength and mightiness. It was not an un- pleasant sight to see them walking together in the moonlight. The confidence of the one ind the magnanimity of the other were things not to be slighted. Strength and weakness iraternize very comfortably. Barnabas was too good-natured not to re- sret the necessity of taking life ; but the sac- vtfice seemed imperative. The killing of a native, under the circumstances surrounding him, he considered a duty rather than Fr crime. The one had fled—had gone into the jungle —and it was useless to pursue him. Luckil tor Barnabas, this scene transpired very qui- etly, and at a point where the Sepoys could not witness it. Had they seen the ‘transac- tion, the catastrophe would have been has- tened. As it was, they remained in discon- tented obedience at their posts, staring mood- ily at Barnabas as he went by, to return again in the same orbit, with the same watchfulness, and at the same pace. “Sahib!” cried a voice. Barnabas, who was now seated on Methu- selah, stopped and looked in every direction, vut could not discover the author of the voice. “Sahib !” “Who speaks? Where are you? asked Barnabas, still at a loss. “ Look this way, Sahib.” Huiton, guided by the sounds, cast his eyes upward, and beheld a figure perched on a oranch of a banyan-tree. This startled him. ‘The thought that every bough might bear such fruit, gave him an unpleasant realization of the craft and subtlety of the natives. To pull out his revolver was his first act. “What you doin’ up there ?” he demanded, suspiciously. “T am sitting on a limb, Sahib.” The answer was prompt, and the voice very comfortably careless. “I see you're settin’ on a limb, and you make a mighty nice mark for one’s six- shooter. I s’pose you don’t know that na- ty ves aint safe settin’ on limbs.” Barnabas cocked his revolver. “Tt depends altogether on the motive, Sa- hib,” replied the man, as coolly as before. “I'm goin’ to shoot pretty soon,” said Bar- nabas ; “which way would you like to fall — head first, or heels first ?” Hutton waited, mildly and patiently, for the person in the tree to decide this question. “ Were I to fall in the way you hint at, it would make no manner of difference whether the heels or the head took precedence. But I know, Sahib, that you will not shoot.” “Any bits o’ brass about you that you'd like to wager on that pint? [f you'll put up anything ‘worth while, I'll run the risk o’ losin’ about a fourth of a lac o’ rupees,” re- turned Barnabas, quite as much at his ease as the individual on the limb. “Tam nota betting man, Sahib,” said the latter. “And besides, I haven’t as many rupees as would buy a measure of rice or a half-ounce of opium.” : “ All this has nothin’ whatever to do with me. If you don’t come down, I shall have to fetch ye down ; not bein’ a man as is given;to {come and nonsense. Who are you, na- tyve ?” ‘ of I am Tilac, the tiger-tamer,” was the re- ly. “Oh, you're Tilac, the tiger-tamer, be ye ? Sorry to say I never heer'd on ye afore in my life. Never did. No!” “That’s very curious, Sahib,” returned the native, dropping from his perch directly upon Methuselah’s head. “Familiarity, Mister Tilac, is some’at that I don’t fancy on short acquaintance. You jest slide off o’ this critter suddint, or you'll never tame another tiger, big nor little, as jong as you live! You won't. No!” Barnabas doubled a hand which made a fist about the size of a child’s head, and made a free exhibition of it to Tilac. Instead of complying, Tilac turned a back- ward summerset over Hutton’s head, and alighted skilfully behind him. ©® pluribus!” exclaimed _ Barnabas. «“That’s what I call a-gile! But don’t throw ourself round too much. Id rather you'd e some’at scarce than too plenty. I choose to ride alone ; so jest flop down where I can put the axes o’ my eyes on you.” Throwing another summierset back to Me- thuselah’s head, Tilac slid lightly over one of the great ears to the ground. Barnabas, now having him more fully un- der obseryation, noticed that he was dressed in blue and white cotton stuff. His turban was of the same material. His face had various devices painted upon it. On one cheek was represented a tigress and her whelps; on the other, the hea’ of a cobra- capello rising from the petals of an Indian lily. His forehead was striped with red and white. His teeth and lips were stained bright red by chewing betel-leaf, a bag of which hung at his side. He wore a small, crooked dagger in a serpent-Skin sheath. Since his residence in India, Barnabas had not encountered so singular a figure. He ex- amined him leisurely, and taxed his Ameri- can shrewdness to fix him somewhere in the catalogue of human character. “So you are Tilac, the tiger-tamer?” said Barnabas, reflecting. “'Tiger-tamer and snake-charmer, both, Sahib,” replied Tilac, salaaming. “That's right; glad you’ve found your manners. Like to have natyves keep doin’ so, when they're talkin’ with their betters. Charm snakes and tame tigers, eh? Couldn't you add some'at else to your business, to fill up the gaps ?” “T have as much as I can do, Sahib. I tame tigers for Buropeans, and I charm snakes for the amusement of anybody who will throw me a bit of silver.” “The tigers may do well enough, but eat the snakes! I allers had a principle agin snakes. They’re riptyles as is nasty and dis- agreeable, and produces a crawlin’ in the naryes, and a creepin’ of the flesh, and a cold- ness of the blood. I'd thank ye, Mister Tilac, to bring me no sarpents. And as for that paintin’ on your face, Hindu, it is hea- thenish and not accordin’ to natur. It isn’t. No! You natyves look bad enough with clean faces ; but come to put on wild animiles, snakes’ heads, and red and white streaks, it’s little short 0’ diabolical. Now, Mister Tilac, what do you want?” Hutton put the question that concluded his remarks with an earnestness not to be trifled with. “JT want to sell you a tiger, Sahib,” answer- ed Tilac, with a profound salaam. “ Keep ’em to sell, doye? Shouldn't won- der if you had a stock of ’em round here, somewheres. It must be a snug and pretty business! Got your life insured, Atister Tilac?” “ Sahib, I have a most splendid creature to show you. It has eyes like a woman’s.” “The very reason why I shouldn't want it. Is its tongue like a woman's, natyve ?” ‘It’s coat shines like burnished steel. You may caress it as you would caress a girl. It will be to you as a child.” “ Children and girls I know little about,” replied Hutton. “Go your way. I want no tigers.” “Sahib, you cannot resist my animal. You can stroke her back, and she will rub her head against you like a tame kitten. Neglect not this opportunity, O Sahib. It is a golden chance, that may never again occur.” Tilac whistled, then called: “Upas! Upas!” Immediately there was a rustling in the foliage, anda magnificent creature alighted at ‘Tilac’s feet, Even the phlegmatic American could not but confess to its sur- passing beauty. He gazed at it with admir- ing eyes, while it arose on its hinder feet to receive the caresses of its master. “Upas! Upas! I must part with thee, Upas. I need rupees more than thee, beauti- ful one.” He stroked the glossy head, and stooped to feel her breath on his face. : “ E pluribus!” muttered Hutton, charmed in spite of himself. “Its a handsome beast, Mister Tilac,” he added. “Beast, Sahib! Call not my glorious beauty a beast. Call her rather a princess, or a proud and dazzling woman,” answered Tilac, eg arese i “Not a bad idea, tiger-tamer. You're a poet as well as a charmer, I see.” Hutton looked anxiously toward the bun- galow, and the various points where the Se- poys were watching. “You wish to go your rounds, Sahib. Go, and I will wait your return,” said Tilac, no- k ticing his uneasiness, ’ 17 This being the thing Barnabas intended to do, he instantly passed on, and finding all safe, was soon back again ; for the tiger had taken hold of his imagination. “Upas! Upas!” said Barnabas. —. The tiger flashed at him and growled. “You see that never’ll do, Hindu. She'd geratch my eyes out quicker'n winkin’!| Hutton stared at Upas a minute, and said, with an involuntary shiver : | “Git out youcat. Scat!” “Speak her gently, Sahib! She’s like a woman Give her flattery and sweetmeats, and she is easily won. An evil look or a cross word stirs her temper. I know, Sahib, that you will be pleased with her. I will teach you, so you shall do with her just as — you see :ne do.” “s Keep her out o’ the way of the elephant, Mister Tilac, or she’ll git a sly dab, first thing you know. One fillip of that careless piece 0’ gristle would spile her beauty. He wants to git hold of her the worst way.” “Keep your fine animal still, and Upas shail jump up beside you, and you shall touch her shining skin, and her soft paws, and look into her burning eyes.” Without giving Barnabas time to assent or dissent, 'Tilac spoke to Upas and made a gesture. Instantly the tigress sprang up be- side Hutton, who evinced a great deal of distrust and ene | But Upas appeared entirely docile, fawned upon him, and solic- ited his attention by many graceful advances. Barnabas was more than pleased; he was delighted. As the splendid creature rubbed her head against him, he could not, for the life of him, help thinking of Alethe. If he looked into her eyes, hg thought of Alethe ; if he touched her velvet skin, he thought of Alethe ; even the hot breath of Upas on his cheeks, made him think of Alethe. It was singular that this should be true; but it was as true as singular. Barnabas grew interested. Upas wooed him more effectually than Tilac. Had Ps begun with him, and her master held hia tongue, he would have been won. They manifestly, were friends in a moment. “ What a cat it is!” murmured Barnabas. “ What a fine dog itis! What an affection- ate little gal! Itis. Yes! Inever! I don’t believe anybody ever !” “Tt’s a companion fit for a king,” said Ti- lac, proudly. “Sahib, you have the finest elephant in Indie, and you will soon own the finest tiger. O Buddha! Who could not be happy with such an elephant and such a tiger !’ “Oias placed a paw on Hutton’s shoulder, oa gently sunk her muzzle till it rested be- side it. “Takin’ aim at some’at, isn’t she? Why do you call her Upas? Isn’t that a deadly sort of handle to tack onto a pretty kitten like this ?” “T call her Upas, Sahib, because I found her stupefied within the deadly circle of the Bohun Upas. I took her in my arms and bore her hence, gasping, and nearly dead myself with the fatal exhalations of the ma- lignant tree. She was then a glossy baby, @ helpless yet charming little creature, that nestled to my heart like a child. I warmed her upon my breast. I breathed into her, as it were, the breath of life; her being grew out of mine. Do you marvel, Sahib, that I love her? The name of Upas is a good and suggestive one ; it tells you what she was b nature, fierce and terrible; and what she by human fellowship and kindness, gentle and affectionate.” Tilac crossed his hands on his bosom, and sighed heavily. “Why do you part with her?” asked Bar- nabas. “Tt is my business,” answered Tilac, “to train them and to part with them. I would fain haye kept Upas; but the fates forbid. All my friends and relatives have been slain by the English soldiers because they mixed With this rebellion. I, also, must fly for my life. The British, Sahib, will be victori- ous. We shall be hunted down like beasts I must go hence. No matter where I go, it the distance be far; but far it must be. cannot take my beautiful Upas. She must be confided to some one. Stranger, I confide her to you. Use her well. if dover come for her, yield her back to me; if I do not, she is Sais Offer me no rupees ; I will not take them. I scorn rupees for my tiger. When I spoke of rupees, it was but a device
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18 io try you. Oan you buy beauty, and glory, and strength, and fidelity, for rupees! ‘Tilac, the tiger-tamer, knows better. She is easily controlled. Give her your love, and she will give you hers. The only sccret of her man- agement is, kindness., Upas’—he addressed the tigress—“ stay till I come for you. Go with him. Don’t leave him. ay, girl, don’t look wishfully at me! Don’t whimper, my girl! Don’t look sad, my child! We may sometime meet again., Farewell, Sa- hib—tarewell, my glorious Upas!” With these words, hurriedly and feelingly pronounced, Tilac, the tiger-tamer, darted into the jungle and disappeared. CHAPTER XIX. THE BURNING-EYED AND THE DREAMY- EYED. Neal Kavanagh, with a sword across his knees and a revolver in his hand, sat, await- ing anxiously the events of the night. The Major, similarly armed, occupied an apart- ment on the opposite side of the bungalow, a prey to the same fears and feelings. Kava- nagh could hear, at intervals, the slow and heavy tread of the elephant, as, guided by Barnabas, he made the circuit of the house. Notwithstanding the excitement he had en- dured the past day and night, strange to say, his wound did not suffer by it, nor was there any recurrence of the feverish symptoms. The thought of Miss Mane HeEC might have acted as an anodyne ; soothing the turmoil of his mind and counteracting the effects of apprehension. ow and then, shading his eyes with his hand, he looked out upon the dim and silent grounds, which, hour after hour, still re- mained dim and silcht. A light scratch upon the floor, a mufiled sound, a footfall that was like the tread of an ambushed cat, caused Kayanagh to look toward the door. The first objects he beheld were two shining lights, like two spheres of glass, with lighting shining through them. Those two shining lights drew and kept his consciousness for a moment—they were so brilliant, go unexpected, and so wonderful. Breaking from this fascination with a sol- dier’s promptness, he took cognizance of more than epee of intense eyes. He per- ceived a nearly full-grown tiger looking him in the face! There was more of curiosity than fierceness in the sleek and shining crea- ture’s expression. Itseemed doubtful wheth- er to advance or retreat. It looked as ifa kind. word would bring it to his feet. He knew at once that the animal must be tame ; but he had never seen it before, and won- dered whence it came. Its beauty and grace reminded him of an elegant woman. He tried to feel that he was a soldier, and said, with tclerable firmness : “ Come here, my beauty ; come here !” Like a prudent man however, Neal Kayanagh cocked his revolver, not fully assured of the intentions of his magnificent visitor. “Allright!” said a good-humored voice. “ E pluribus, my boy! Or, as they have it on tlie copper cents in the States, E Pluribus Unanimous.” Barnabas Hutton, who had modestly stood a little back, out of sight, now adyanced into the room with Upas. “You came near giving me a fright, Barna- bas,” said Kavanagh. “If I hadn’t been an English soldier, 1 believe I should have fainted, like a schoolgirl. What have you got hold of now, my friend ?” “You can see for yourself, Lieutenant. It’s a Hinduarrangement altogether. A. sen- timental, picture-painted natyve philanthrop- ically slapped it onto me ashort time ago. Better nor a dog, isn’t she? You mustn't say ‘scat? to her howsomever. Scat don’t ’pear to ‘gree with her. You know the kind o’ vammon that goes down the feminines, don’t ye, Lieutenant?” Barnabas stretched his ‘ood-natured mouth intoa smile that divided uis face into two sections. ‘Scat a woman, and see what'll come on’t! Scat a woman, and see if itll be E pluribus! Well, this mincin’ critter is powerfully similar. She is. 7 “You astonish me, Barnabas? Are you sure that this animal’s perfectly safe?” re- plied Kavanagh, unconsciously pushing his chair back as Hutton drew near, “To tell you the plain truth, my boy, I shouldn’t be the least mite surprised if that yarmint should spring right onto ye, and tear Hydrabad, the Strangler. ye all to bits. Ishouldn’t. No! On the contrairy, Lieutenant, I rather come in as an experiment than otherwise. If the animal isn’t docile, I want to know it before she does much mischief, you know. If she pulls you apart, ’twouldn’t be like tacklin’ one o’ the gals. It wouldn’t. No. We could dupli- cate your mug well enough, but you couldn’t the mugs o’ them gals. Rat me if you could! All mugs isn’t the same mugs, you're aweer,” said Mr. Hutton. “T appreciate your motive, Barnabas, but I can’t look upon itasa favor. Takeaway this lithe and agile beauty, with her opal eyes. She don’t agree with me, I’m afraid,” an- hha Kavanagh, eyeing Upas distrust- ully. “The whole secret,” added Barnabas, “ lies ina nutshell. You're to speak softly, smile tender, and stroke her head gentle; which does the business. Leastways, it has so fur ; but God He only knows how long ’twill last! To own up, E pluribus, I’m expectin’ every minute to be plowed up from head to fat like a cow-pastur’ in the States. I be. es!” Barnabas squinted at his new piece of property with more doubt than confidence ; then, with evident uncertainty, said: “Come to your perprietor, Upas. Come, you mag-ni-fish-ent she !” Contrary to the expectations of Kavanagh, the tigress went and rubbed against Hutton’s egs. a Pluribus Rex!” quoth Barnabas. “ Isn’t it a gammonin’ kitten ?” “Tt is singularly tame,” observed Kay- anagh. “How came it in your possession ?” “A Hindu interprise,” replied Barnabas. “Tilac, the tiger-tamer. Painted natyve. Menagerum on one cheek and pizen snakes on tother. Blue and white cotton. Le struck into blue and white cotton. Buddy pushed into blue and white cotton. Blue and white cotton head. Red teeth. Stripes on his forehead. Found baby-tigress in val- ley of Bohun Upas, stupefied. ‘Took it home and renovated it. ‘Took a mighty likin’ for it. Goin’ away. Sentimental cuss. Give her to me. Scuttled into the jungle. And that’s the whole story. ‘Took her up here to interduce her, and see what you thought on’t; though Ill be dod-ratted if I didn’t think it was about an even chance that she’d chaw your ’tother arm. Bless my body, what furrers she’d turn with them ere fish- hooks of hers at the eend of her legs! Durned if I know what to do with her. Rather a wownded sight, the gen’rous cuss had give me a small farm, with a few acres 0’ mowin’. Iwould. Yes! Idlike toturn my propert; into ready mongy soon’s convenient, vow!” Barnabas turned his twinkling eyes on Upas, with an expression exceedingly prob- lematical. “Tnever was a durned miser,” he returned, in agenial glow. “Inever wanted to freeze to more nor belonged tome. [ allers liked ou, my boy ; and I’ve no doubt but I should iked your folks accordin’, if I’d known ’em; on accountof which, as a small momentum of my esteem, and as a sovereign of my plancaitin, ‘low me to persent you this ere—” “No, no, my dear Barnabas!” interposed Kavanagh, greatly alarmed. “Don’t make such a sacrifice.” “No sacrifice at all, and it’s a luxury I can well afford to part with,” responded Barnabas, with a comical twitching of the corners of his mouth. ‘It was the wish of the generous cuss who donated the property to me, that it might forever remain in the country; but I think o’ movin’, my boy; I think on’t serious, and I don’t care to take my riches with me.” “ All of which,” laughed Kavanagh, “I ful- ly appreciate, and beg of you to acceptevery expression of gratitude you can ecnveniently think of. lhope the time may come when may be able to repay this kindness.” Just then the tigress, with exceeding grace and persuasiveness, looked up at Barnabas. “Well! well! I don’t know!” he muitter- ed. “This is a trifle beyend my fakilties. There may be some’at in this varmint. Who knows? Upas, my beauty, are you a true gal, or a dazzlin’ hypocrite?” He patted the creature on the head; she seemed infinitely oe While he was doing this, a shadow ell on the floor, It was not a large shadow, _ but a symmetrical one ; and Barnabas recog- nized it. We knew the turn of the shoulders ; the carriage of the head; the smallness of the waist. The shadow said, “Alethe”; and Alethe it was. Barnabas turned from the shadow to the substance. People who have been in love know how quickly this is done. It don't take long; and Barnabas beheld, in an in- stant, the dreamy maiden of his, thoughts. He saw her:as he had never seen her belore. Alethe stood on the threshold, with face so pale that it was whiter than Ida’s; with lips slightly apart; with nostrils dilated ; with eyes glazed and fixed, and her slight and sylphlike figure thrown forward in an atti- tude of wonder. Both Kavanagh and Hutton changed at once in mood. ‘The mute earnestness of the girl made them immediately forgetful of themselves and their conversation. They waited for her to speak. She could not at once, it was manifest, command her voice ; but presently the hesitating organs obeyed the will. Raising an interrogatory finger, she pointed at the tigress. “Mr. Barnabas! Mr. Barnabas!” she gasped. “ How came that creature here?” “She walked right along on her trotters,” answered Hutton. “There isn't much doubt about her style o’ trayvelin’.” “ Where did you get her?” queried Alethe —her pallor not yet subsiding. “A generous cuss persented her to me, without fee. recompense, or reward—a pred- igal son, Miss “Lethe, a wastin’ his sub- stance.” “A perilous gift! It is the gift of death. , This creature has but one will; and that is the will of her master, who exercises over her a secret power. Mr. Barnabas, its name is Upas; and it is as deadly to its masters enemies as that, tree to the human race.” “Tt don’t look dangerous,” said Barnabas, glancing down at Upas with obvious distrust. “ Don’t you see it’s nothin’ but a kitten, Miss ‘Lethe? There isn’t nothin’ cross into her. There isn’t. No! Observe/how she puts up her mug to be noticed. *Twould be a pretty lapdog fora lady. Shouldn't wonder if I was to give her to you, one these days. Rat me, if you wouldn’t be a nice couple !” “ Alethe,” said Kavanagh, “your manner and words are startling. Tell us what you krow of this animal.” “The girl clapped her hands, and said : “Upas ! Upas!” The tigress turned quickly, and went to her. Instantly, she began to caress her. Kavanagh noticed that she looked straight into the animal’s eyes, manipulating the glossy head with her hands with a continu- ous backward motion. ‘The bright orbs at first flamed with excitement, but gradually softened till they were gentle as a woman’s. Neither Hutton nor the Licutenant interrupt- ed her. Upas grew meek and submissive. With a sigh, she stretched herself at Alethe’s feet, and presently, closing her now tender eyes, dropped asleep. “Are you seein’ that?” asked Barnabas, who was by this time in a high state of ad- miration. “Are you seein’ that, Lieutenant ? Isn’t she a witch, my boy ?” “She has witching ways, I confess,” re- sponded Kavanagh, smiling—yet not much less surprised than his friend. “That piece of property,” added. Hutton, “grows more val’able. Tigers was low an hour ago ; but they'll be E pluribus by morn- in’.’ “Mr. Barnabas,” said Alethe, sweetly, “will you leave Upas to me ?” “Tn my first and last will and testament, Tl leave her to ye, willin’. Ill give you a quit-claim deed, to have and to hold, to keep and to cultivate, now and forever, you and your heirs and assigns, and so on and so forth —all accordin’ to law and in due form—the tigress above and the tigress aforesaid being repeated some forty times ; or, at least, oftex enough to make the whole thing a durned uzzle to anybody of common-sense. Yel old on a bit, Brownie. If there’s any dan- der in that animile ; if there’s any animosity in that cub ; if there's any scratch and bite in that kitten; if there's any rare and tear ip that shiny beauty—I wouldn’t leave it in you: possession, or alone with it, for all the pearls in . Hution’s countenance grew serious as he went on: “Tf there’s any trick about this; if there's any Hindu cunnin’ at the bottom on’t; if
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there’s any infarnal craft at the beginnin’, or middle, or eend on’t—jest let me know it. Speak out, my little gal; open your sweet mouth, my pet. Don’t go for to takin’ all the risk o’ this business on your own pretty shoul- ders; don’t go for to exposin’ yourself for me, or him, or her, or for anybody. ‘If you at yourself, expose yourself for your- self.” If Mr. Hutton’s elephant had been present, it is probable that Mr. Hutton’s elephant wouldn’t have known Mr. Hutton’s elephant’s master. Methuselah’s proprietor was, in truth, so much elevated, and so carried away in the rush and tumble of his feelings, that his face glowed like a preacher’s, and his hands flailed about like a thresher’s. Kavanagh, in his surprise, allowed his sword to slip off his knees and fall to the floor. Alethe did not manifest much wonder at his eloquence ; she was prepared to see, not only eloquence, but many other qualities. Averting her eyes, she answered, in a modest manner : “Do not be afraid, Mr. Barnabas. I know this creature. I held her in my arms when she was no larger than acat. I Thow where- in she is weak and wherein she is strong. I can subdue her. I trust not Upas with you, Mr. Barnabas. It has been taught to be furi- ous at certain sounds. Let her master but make those sounds in her hearing, and she will lash the ground with her tail, and, shud- dering, go into a rage. It may be fear that seizes her ; it may be natural ferocity, stirred by signals she has been trained to understand. It is not craft that makes her fawn on you and seek caresses ; it is the tenderness of her disposition, bumanized by companionship with man. Like the dog, she loves notice ; like the dog, she courts a friendly gleam of the eye; like the dog, she derives her happi- ness from the kindness of her master.” Kayanagh listened to Alethe, more than half fascinated, himself, by her sense and modesty. If there was ever to be a moment dangerous to the love of Ida, that was the moment. He waited impatiently for her to lift her fairy eyes, that he might look into them. Did he think of the Major? Was there aught in that lovely face to remind him of the Major? Other questions followed fast after these. Was she known in this house- hold? Did she know herself? Had she rown up in the family? Had her history een @ secret? Had her life been a happy one ? All these queries passed through Kava- nagh’s brain while he was waiting for the young girl to raise her drooping eyes from the slumbering tigress. “Queer country!” muttered Barnabas. “Nothin’ straight and open. Everybody mixed up with everybody. Thug, gal, Kava- nagh; gals, tiger, Kavanagh; Hydrabad, Kavanagh, gal; elephant, gal, Hutton—that’s me—anecdote and Kavanagh; Tilac, tiger, and gal agin; and if I can read the human countenance, more Kavanagh sprinkled in. All right, I s’pose, but plaguy myster’ous ; all E pluribus, but wounded strange !”” The softest shade of jealousy went over Hutton’s face. It didn’t last long; he was too generous to be unjust more than a few moments at a time. “Keep Upas, my pretty,” he added, in a mial tone, “ but don’t, for Heaven’s sake, et her git the upper hands. She’d be nigh- about as hard to manage as a Seboy, if she should git the advantage. There’s one as can master her, howsomever, in case she can’t forget what's been drummed into her by that generous cuss. Tiger-tamers, in futur’, better keep out o’ my path, or they'll it a cast from Methuselah that/ll pitch him nto o-blivion. You'd better lock the little dear up, Lethe. She’s wholesomer, I guess, under Key.” “Tl take care of her, Mr. Barnabas.” She touched Upas lightly, pronouncing her name in a soothing tone. “Come, Upas, come !” : The tigress arose and, yawning sleepily, followed the girl from the apartment. Barnabas looked after her with adoring eyes. ; The Dreamy-Eyed and the Burning-Eyed looked wondrously graceful as they departed. CHAPTER XX. TILAC. “ Major Rainbold,” said Barnabas, present- ing himself abruptly to that gentleman, whose Hydrabad, the Strangler. — eyes were watchfully fixed on such portions of his grounds as could be commanded from a single window, “ three of your sarvants will never run away.” “Have you sounded them?” asked the Major. “Right down to the quick! There's no mischief in them three, and you needn’t fear ‘em. But the fourth run away; and what he'll do, I don’t know.” “ What do you mean, Mr. Hutton ?” “T shot one through the heatl, and the other two fell under the blows of Methuse- lah,” replied Barnabas. “Dead, eh? Well, Mr. Hutton, I shall not question your judgment. What is the pros- pect? I am growing unspeakably weary of this suspense. Barnabas, let us decide this at once. Why submit longer to the hypoc- risy of those villains yonder? Demme, Sir, let's go out and shoot ’em dowa! You are well armed, and so am JI. I am tired of this childish business. It’s not becoming a British oflicer and a braye gentleman.” Major Rainbold slapped himself upon the knee, and was undeniably too much in earnest to be trifled with. * Major,” answered Barnabas, “it isn’t them six that we're afeard on; it’s the dozen, or twenty, or thirty, as the case may be, that are hid in the jungle, waitin’ to be in at the death, to plunder, to steal, and to pillage.” “We must anticipate em! Demme, Sir, we must anticipate ‘em! We mus’n’t wait for em to give the signal. That's folly, Sir, demme! Why should we wait to be massa- cred ?” The Major sprang from his seat, really angry. . Kavanagh came in. “If I's to ventur’ an opinion, Major, I shouldn't disagree with ye,” replied Hutton. “ But there’s one important thing to be con- sidered ; before twenty-four hours, there’s no doubt in my mind but your bungalow will be in ashes. As you've said, we must antici- pate ’em. We can’tstay in a bungalow that's burnt down; ther'fore we must go some- wheres else. Now where shall we go? Do you know of any hidin’-place? Is there a jungle in Ingy thick enough to hide us from the rebels till times are safer. We've all thought on’t; you’ve thought on’t, and I’ve thought on’t, and he’s thought on’t; and now we've got to act on’t.” “ This is all true,” said Kavanagh. “Secret and instant flight is the only thing that is left tous. Unless the Major is well acquainted with the country, we ueed a trusty guide ; but I doubt if such a thing can be found among the servants.” “There’s no saryants left but women and children, and they bein’ natives, have nothin’ to be afeard on. But there's ‘Lethe! I shouldn’t be surprised if ’Lethe could tell us where to go. She might guide us up among the hills, leastways, where we got the cure for the p’ison.” Just then a shrill whistle from the elephant reached them, and Barnabas immediately rushed from the house. Tne Major and Kavanagh followed him. Barnabas ran around the bungalow in search of Methuselah. He found him with his trunk elevated, and evidently alarmed. The cause of his excitement was a clear, red blaze crawling up the bamboo wall toward the dry thatch on the roof. Hutton immedi- ately scrambled to his back, how, he could not afterward remember. He perceived that there was no use in trying to quench the fire, which was fast en- veloping that part of the building. ‘The native soldiers were uppermost in his mind ;_they were the proper objects of atten- tion. Encouraging Methuselah, inciting him to anger by every means in his power, he sought the authors of this mischieg. A volley of musketry informed him with too much certainty where to look for the Se- poys.. A bullet struck the scabbard of his sword, giving him a smart shock end aslight fleshwound; and others appeared to strike the elephant; who, with a cry like a trum- et, rushed upon the aggressors. Methuse- ah, to look at, was a vast, unwieldly mass; but that mass was capable of terrific emotion and it is emotion that imparts action, speed, quickness, intelligence, revenge. The natives were as much surprised at the suddenness of the onset as if they had lived in a country where elephants were rarely seen. The smoke of their muskets partly ‘ concealed his coming; nor were they aware 19 of their danger till his sharp whistle Sounded almost over their heads. Instead of running, they presented their bayonets mechanically, more than from a belief that such a demon- stration would be available. In their con- sternation, they did not remember the won- derful pliability of the animal’s trunk, and the nearly human calculation that guided it. To wind that lithe arm around the barrel of a musket, drag its owner to the ground, and trample ow him, was the work of a few sec- onds. ‘To repeat the operation, consumed, if possible, less time; while a third, seeing with horror the fate of his companions, an dropping his weapon to fly, was stricken upon the neck and died. iXavanagh, who had by this time arrived, shot a fourth with his revolver, the Major wounded a fifth, and the sixth fled, unin- jured. ‘ Without exchanging a word, they mutu- ally turned to the burning dwelling. Kay- anagh could do but little toward extinguish- ing the flames; he therefore hastened to the servants’ quarters, and very soon a dozen native women came hurrying to the spot, bearing pails of water, which they dashed upon the flames with little or no eifect. It was at this trying juncture that the faith- fulness and kindness of the sex were dis- played. Real terror and anxiety were depicted upon their faces. If they had had their wishes, their false and truant lords would have been brought back to obedience. Aided by these devoted women, the Major and Barnabas worked a long time, but with- out quelling the fire, which, communicating with the thatch on the roof, spread rapidly. The smoke arose in dense, black columns. With feelings of sorrow, Rainbold saw that nothing could be done to save the structure. While this conflict with the destroying element was going on, Melicent’s door was burst open, she was seized by the waist, and borne from the house. She cried for help ; but her cries were at first overpowered by the roaring of the fire, and finally smoth- ered by the hand of the person who was hur- rying her away. She was placed on horse- back, and a man immediately mounted behind her. The latter she did not see dis- tinctly. The dimness of night, and the smoke driving into her face, together with her own terrors, prevented her from seeing objects clearly. The suddenness of the proceeding, the quick realization of her misfortune, each and both served to bewilder her. For the space of five or ten minutes, she was not fully con- scious of what was transpiring ; yet the one reat overwhelming certainty, that she was in the power of a pitiless enemy, was ever present. Ida Macgregor awoke from a brief repose to discover her room filled with smoke, and every instant flowing in. Throwing open the door, she called loudly to. Melicent and Alethe, and rushed wildly into the open air. She was met by Kavanagh, who made the best use of his uninjured arm, by throwing it around her, and urging her toward the stables. Alethe, who had taken the tigress to her chamber, had been more vigilant than Meli- cent or Ida. She soon detected the smell of fire, but she was not one to be easily frightened. From her little window she could see the flames quivering, and_hiss- sing, and mounting upward. She was assured that Barnabas would come for her, when it became necessary to fly from the burning edifice. So strong was this faith, that she sat perfectly quiet, with Upas sleeping at her feet. ! The smoke became quite thick and stifling; the air grew hot and unfit for respiration. Upas moved uneasily, trembled, and moaned. The pungent air penetrated her nostrils, and irritated her lungs. Alethe was thinking seriously that she was overlooked or forgot- ten, when her door was pushed open and some one burst in. It was not Barnabas. She expected to see Barnabas. But what a different figure, face, and expression pre- sented! A man, clad in blue and white, with painted visage, and a curved dagger at his side, was before her. It was Tilac, the tiger-tamer. “He paused not, but advanced upon Alethe. «Stop !” cried the girl, menacingly. “ You are near enough for good fellowship.” « Who can be too near to thee, O star of the morning!” answered Tilac,” —e
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20 *“ Begone!’ added Alethe, resolutely. “If you advance, it is at your own risk.” « fay; fair Alethe,” said Tilac, in a per- suasive voice, “the pain is in being too far trom you.” “ Youshall change that opinion before you leave me,” replied Alethe. “Lily of India,” said Tilac, earnestly, “those who approach you can have but one inind. All the treasures of Golconda were nothing to thee, O glory of the world ! “ As neither the treasures of Golconda nor I are for thee, go thy way quickly, O ‘Tilac.” The tiger-tamer started with surprise. “ What did you say?” he asked. “ Did you speak of one that you know ?” “T seldom speak otf those 1 do not know. This air is getting too thick to be breathed. Ciger-tamer, you had better go!” retorted Alethe, firmly, “T will go; but you shall go with me.” Tilac darted forward to seize her. She retreated, exclaiming, vehemently : “ Upas! Upas!” She still retreated; she repeated : “Upas! Upas!” The tigress sprang up at the sound of her voice; she looked at Alethe, then taking her meaning from her eyes and agitated voice, und goaded on by the smoke, ‘Upas turned, hot and angry, on 'Tilac. The creature had een sleeping in a corner of the apartment, nor had she been observed by ilac; but now that she suddenly uprose and con- fronted him, the effect was most extraordi- nary; and he staggered backward, incredu- lous yet terrified. Was this the docile, obedient animal he had parted with but a short time before? What had transformed her? Was it indeed the same submissive, sagacious creature? Chere could be no question about the matter. Mad not Alethe called her Upas? Would it not be remarkable for two tigers to be called Upas? He recognized the superb head, the vesplendent eyes, the glossy skin, the grace- ‘ul form, undulating and quivering with strength and fierceness. Would she forget his ministering hand? Would she forget their friendship—the les- ons he had taught? In short, would she sorget her master ? “Upas, girl?” articulated Tilac, making a singular sound. The tigress did not heed him. The signal had lost its potency. She glanced at Alethe us if for her final wishes, then sprang at Vilac, who, with muttered execrations and a ury, darted from the bungalow. Alethe followed, and found Upas in the veranda, excited and angry, and glaring to- ward the jungle. Tilac was not to be seen. A part of his sarong was lying under her ‘eet. “Lethe! Lethe!” cried Barnabas, spring- ing to the veranda. “Here!” said Alethe. “The house is full of smoke,” he added. “The wind has drifted it in fast. We've wasted time in tryin’ to put out the fire. Where’s Melicent? Ida's out yonder with ‘he Major and Kavanagh ; but where in the uame oO’ natur’ is ’tother one?” “Come with me, Mr. Barnabas; I'll show you the way to her chamber. I fear she is suffocated by the smoke.” The girl glided through the stifling air to Melicent’s room. She found the door open, und searched in vain for her mistress, aided by Barnabas. “Look no more!” cried Alethe, “'Tilac has been here. My mistress is carried away. !fe came for me, and had I not been defended by Upas, 1 should have shared, as was doubt- Joss intended, her misfortune. Hasten, Mr Lawnabas, to overtake those who have borne her away.” “It's an easy thing, little gal, to tell me {9 Surry arter her; but which way am I to go?” We will think of it while «I don't know. w+ prepare for flight,” she replied, in a troubled tone. * You, and I, and the other one,” said 3} mabas, “will aid the elephant. ‘The Ma- jov and the Lieutenant are goin’ on horse- lick. Here they are, horses saddled and bei led. Whoa, Methuselah, whoa.” ‘he concluding words were, of course, aldressed to the elephant, who was step- ryin’ yourself. A pill or two in your side [ate hurt ye. Don't fret, old boy; don’t ret.’ “Where is Melicent?” cried Major Rain- bold, anxiously ; “I trusted the girls to you. | Where, in Heaven's name, have you left her? Not in the burning building, surely ?” “Some sneakin’ critter has stole her away,” replied Hutton. “Stole her away!’ roared the Major. “Have you allowed her to be stolen away, Sir? I don't allow her to be stolen away, Sir, demme! Alethe—Ida—speak! Have you lost your tongues? Can’t you say some- thing? Am I to go distracted before your eyes?” “That strange being called Tilac has been here,” answered Alethe; “and there is no doubt but he is the cause of her disappear- ance. Mr. Barnabas is going after her. Mr. Barnabas always gets what he goes after.” “Blast Mr. Barnabas!” cricd the choleric Major, provoked at the coolness and exceed- ing faith of Alethe. “I want my girl, and will g° for her myself’ Which way did the rascal carry her? Why hadn’t you told me of this ha an hour ago?” Rainbold was in a paroxysm of consterna- tion, which prevented him from knowing ex- actly what he said. “She hasn’t been missin’ as long as that,” replied Barnabas, coolly. “We've but this nunute found out about it. We're goin’ to do everything that’s possible. Better mount your horses right away, gentlemen. Action isa great deai better nor talk. Down, Methu- selah! To your knees, old boy! Let me help you up, gals. ‘Lethe, take hold of Miss Gregor ; for your more used to elephant-ridin’ nor she is. ‘That's a-gile—pretty and a-gile ! Up like birds! Now stick on tight, for the old boy rolls like a ship at sea, when he’s in ahurry. If you slop off, can’t stop to pick you up, you know. e shall scuttle along like a thousand kegs o’ gunpowder, when we vet started. Where’s the kitten, "Lethe? hat’s come on it, eh?” “Upas! Upas!” cried Alethe. “Upas! Upas!” She raised her voice each time she repeated the name. In a moment the tigress bounded to the spot, trailing after her a por- tion of Tilac’s sarong that she had captured. The horses snorted and reared. Ida shriek- ed, and the Major was dumb with bewilder- ment. *“ Don’t fear, Miss Ida! This is a tame and friendly creature,” Alethe hastened to say. “Come up, Upas! Come up!” The beautiful animal leaped with wonder- ful lightness to the side of its now acknowl- edged mistress. Ida was disposed to shrink from such companionship ; but seeing Upas lick the girl's hand and press her head against her cheek, to express her confidence and affection, she regained her self-possess- ion. “Curious doings!” muttered the Major. “ Dverything changes here. Nothing remains as it was five minutes together. The girl has got that tiger from some of her confounded native relations, I s’pose, to bite us, or scratch somebody’s eyes out. Shouldn’t wonder if she swapped Melicent for it, demme !” “No, Major, there ha’n’t been no trade 0’ that natur,” interposed Barnabus. “That critter was give me by a generous cuss. I turned it over to "Lethe to be boarded, lodg- ed, and eddicated. She’s got the upper hand on’t a’ready, you see. less your body, Major, she’d been carried off herself, if it hadn't been for that pretty kitten! Don’t they look peart and sassy up there together, like three graces on a Joad 0’ hay !” “'The Sepoys! the Sepoys! Our poor Mel- icent must have fallen into the hands of those wretches. Oh, Mr. Kavanagh, what can we do?” exclaimed Ida. The Major groaned. “ Yes, yes!” he murmured, huskily. “ My sweet girl is lost. Oh, that 1 should live to know that she is subjected to the pitiless cruelties of fiends in human form!” “This is most lamentable!” said Kava- nagh. ‘I cannot understood how Miss Rain- boidcould have been abducted without our knowledge. It must have been done with extraordinary quickness and cunnig. My word for it, the serpent Hydvapad as had an agency in this.” ‘ “T now remember,” said Ida, “ that when I came out of the house, I heard a clatter of ing about uneasily, piping and snufling the | horse's feet, just yonder, where the bridle- ial, “Easy, my bevity; don't go for to wor- ; bath runs along by the native huts.” Hydrabad, ti.e Strangler. | “That bridle-path, then, Miss Gregor,” said Bainabas, * is what we want to tind.” “Girl,” said the Major, arousing himself, “you said something about a visit from some one. Who wasit, and what was it?” “That unexpected visit,” answered Alethe, “was from a mysterious man called Tilac, the tiger-tamer, whom it has been my misfor- tune to encounter before. He sprang to take me in his arms, and would have succeeded had it not been for the power I had acquired over this creature, which was at that moment sleeping, unobserved, at my feet. In my sur- prise and terror I cried, ‘Upas! Upas!’ and she shot upon him like an arrow, forgetful of the hand that had reared her. He fled, with acry. I followed. When I reached the veranda, he had disappeared, and the ani- mul, with this fragment of sarong under her feet, was looking intently and angrily in the direction mentioned by Miss Ida. By the help ofthis dumb, yet far-sighted, keen-scent- ed creature, united with the speed and sagac- ity of the elephant, we shall be able to trace my dear mistress.” “'There’s sense for ye!” said Barnabas. “She knows more than all of us, 1 vow! Now we're E pluribus unanimous! Mount, Major, mount! Oan you manage to guide, Lieutenant, with one arm ?” “Think not of me, my friend. IT have al- ready forgotten my wounded arm. See! it is out of the sling, and, if necessary, I can hold the rein with it while I use the other for de- fence. Miss Macgregor, are you safely seat- ed? Is your strength equal to this emergen- cy ?” Kavanagh had drawn near to Methuselah, and now looked most earnestly at Ida. His terrible anxiety and his great love were pic tured upon his face. “T can bear all things with patient firm- ness,” answered Ida, in a jow and meaning voice, “if I may but rely on your promise. ltemember, my friend, the barbarity of the Sepoys ; and when hope is lost, I shall took to you for that to which you have pledged your- self, I will not shrink, Mr, Kavanagh. I will accepwit as a full and perfect expression of your love. “Tam not certain, Ida, that it is possible, as IT once said to you; but I think I may be able to Keep my promise,” he said, sadly. “J will have no doubt, Kavanagh. Say ‘I will do it’, and say it firmly,” said Miss Mac- gregor, in accents deeper and more thrilling. “ Miss Macgregor, if the moment of such dire extremity should come, you yourself shall command my arm. Look at me in the manner you told me, with your hands clasp- ed, and it shall be as you will! The sacrifice will be forgiven by Heaven.” “Thanks, my friend! Thanks are all that Ida Macgregor can give Bbc “Nay!” whispered Alethe, “you have given him more!” The girl had scarcely murmured these words when a stunning report of musketry reverberated in the jungle, and a dozen bullets whistled around them. “On!” shouted the Major. “On!” With an angry shriek, Methuselah launch- ed across the open area, and with Jong, roll- ing steps, swept like a mountain-slide along the arched and dusky path. Major Rainbold and Kavanagh galloped furiously behind, their swift and high-mettled horses straining every muscle to keep pace with the elephant. CHAPTER XXI. THE SHADOW OF DEATH. Not till the oe motion of the horse re- vived her, did Melicent Rainbold fully un- derstand that she was being carried away from her friends. Her feelings were those of terror and despair. Her first impression was that she was in the power of the Sepoys—the most alarming thought that could have enter- ed her mind. ‘The suddenness of the transac- tion had bewildered her. It had not seemed possible that a person could be caught up and spirited away with so much adroitness and celerity- : She had not yet seen the face of the man in whose arms she was held, nor did she dare look over her shoulder to see it. He present- ly slackened his speed, and two men on horseback came up with him. They were both natives, and Melicent was glad to ob- serve that they did not wear the uniform of the Sepoys- The painted features of Tilac she instantly remembered ; for they had been too deeply impyessed on her imagination in
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tliat moment of consternation, when, rushing into her apartment, he caught her in his arms. ‘The figures on his dark cheeks, the red and white stripes across his forehead, the redness of his teeth, and the craftiness of his eyes, all served to increase her dread and apprehen- sion. Feeling her trembling in his arms, the per- son who was supporting her in the saddle, now addressed her. It was the first time since her seizure that a word had been spo- ken. “Do not distress yourself unnecessarily, Miss Ruinbold,” he said. Nothing could have amazed Melicent more than that voice! Indignation now mingled with her fears. “Mr. Bracegirdle,” she said, after two or three stamimering efforts to speak,” it is to you, then, that lam indebted for this out- rage! To you, Raynor Bracegirdle, the son of my father’s friend, and the recipient of my father’s hospitality 1” “How have you treated the son of your father's friend, Miss Rainbold ?” asked Raynor, with a bitter resentment. “Better than he deserved,” replied Meli- cent, with hot contempt. ‘“ You should have been driven from my home with scorn and reproaches! Ay, you should have been scourged thence !” “ What was my crime, Miss Rainbold? I will tell you. My love was my crime!” said Raynor, bitterly. “T cast back the falsehood! Your heart was full of crime. Love had no place in it. But there was room enough there for envy, hatred, and murder !” She spoke with cool and cutting severity. For an instant, Bracegirdle was confounded. “The terms you make use of, Miss Rain- bold, are most offensive and unjust.” He tried to assume the air of an injured man. “Itisa flimsy artifice, that of falsehood,” re- turned Melicent. “Your dark secrets are known, not to me only, but to others.” Tilac, the tiger-tamer, bent forward in his saddle to hear her words. «Tell me, Sir, where is your Hydrabad? “ Perhaps’—she turned her flashing eyes on Tilac—* perhaps this is he, disguised to suit your occasion.” ‘Tilac shrugged his shoulders, settled into his saddle, and showed his red teeth in a laugh so anomalous that she could not under- stand it. Bracegirdle himself appeared struck by this observation, and glanced quickly at the tiger- tamer. As for Melicent, she saw, or thought she saw, a resemblance to Hydrabad in the painted face of ‘Lilac. “ Your allusion to the impostor, Hydrabad,” said Raynor, “are to me unintelligible. That he was a base villain, may nor may not be evident, to you or me; but that 1 had an connection with him, is as false as injuri- ous.” “ Add not falschood to falsehood!” she re- torted. “It was with that crafty native that you devised the death of Neal Kavanagh. Tilac looked steadily at his horse's ears. His lips were fixed, expressing nothing but stoical indifference. « The death of Kavanagh !” repeated Ray- nor. “Deny it not! I know the method, and the manner of its accomplishment. Hydra- bad dropped the fatal drop into the wound.” Glancing at Tilac, Melicent saw but the whites of his eyes rolled upward. Was there anything like Hydrabad about those eyes? She felt a shudder passing through the arms of Raynor. His heart beat with sudden violence. The certainty that he was re- vealed to the woman he thought he loved, affected him strangely, She allowed him to suffer a brief space, then added: “ Why do you not ask if he live ?” : “ T care not!” muttered Bracegirdle. “Then you shall remain in doubt. If he lives, it is not by your good-will; if he is dead, itis by your hand. It was not reall Hydrabad who dropped the fatal drop ; it was you who poured it into the wound. “Talk not of this, Miss Rainbold,” he re- plied, gloomily. “Think of yourself and not of me. Whatever I have done, it was for you that I did it. Bear that in your mem- ory. Bear it now and ever!” ; *« Knowing that you are a hypocrite, a liar, and a murderer, what emotions do you hope to excite in me but aversion and horror. The hope of winning my esteem has erished forever. You can extort nothing trom me ever after for the great crime of your life. I make this appeal earnestly and een ie 'Tilac threw an inquisitive glance at Meli- cent. “Tt may not be, Miss Rainbold! The die is cast. My choice is made; my destiny re- corded.” : His brow was lowering, his voice gloomy. “An evil persisted in is an evil hourly repeated. our crime becomes thrice a crime; your treachery, thrice treachery.” She paused, surprised at her own firmness. “The will of the gods,” said Tilac, “ must be done, though all the people of India op- pose it.” «“ There is but one God,” said Melicent. “True!” responded Tilac. “And we shall not behold Him till the morn.” “God,” returned Melicent, “is never visi- ble to man.” “ Your God is never visible, but mine is,” said ‘Lilac, sombrely. “ A Queber!” exclaimed Melicent. “JT worship Heat and Light. The element of Fire is eternal.” There was % dark energy in his words—a latent enthusiasm streaming up faintly from the dead ashes of superstition and ignorance, owing its life to he natural instinct of wor- ship in man. “When the time comes for Tilac to be absorbed in the glorious element of Fire, he will be absorbed. We know when Death is near.” Struck by something in his tones, Melicent asked : “Tow do you know when Death is near ?’’ “ By the inspiration of my faith,” answered Tilac, with energy. “ Death is near, now !” He looked up with an icy smile. “ Do either of you feel cold ?” racegirdle shivered. “Coldness is the shadow of Death!” Ti- lac sighed, and muttered to himself. “When an icy thrill creeps slowly on-one,” he added, raising his mysterious eyes again to the face of Melicent, ‘chilling flesh and blood, soul and spirit, without known cause or comprehended reason, it is the signal of Death !” Bracegirdle started suddenly, and cried out in atone of horror. Melicent glanced over her shoulder, and saw a cobra-capello coil itself like lightning round his neck. She did not move; she did not breathe; she did not have but one thought, before the venom- ous reptile darted its fangs into the flesh. “ Raynor’s arms relaxed their hold upon Melicent; the bridle dropped from his fin- gers. A stony horror overspread his fea- tures. With a groan, a moan, and an ago- nizing cry, he plucked the cobra from his throat, tore it asunder, and cast it upon the ground. During this time, the horses had been go- ing at an easy canter; now, as if controlled by one impulse, they stopped, dilated their nostrils, settled backward upon _ their haunches, and trembled. “They feel the Death!” said Tilac, in a tone that froze the blood in Melicent’s veins. “Animals often know when the divine fire is going out. Dogs sometimes sit at their mas- ters’ gates and howl piteously over the prophecy of death that is within them. An- imals are the providences of man. They are not only his servants, his friends, but his monitors.” Melicent sprang from the horse, and shrank with a shudder from the writhing strings of the cobra, tied in quivering knots in the path. Bracegirdle sat for a few dreadful moments in icy and mortal dread, then drawing forth arevolver with fierce haste, fired its six barrels one after the other at Tilac, who sat smiling and motionless on his horse. “You cannot kill the devil!” he sneered. “I thought so! I thought sd!’ cried Bracegirdle, gnashing his teeth. “ You have betrayed me, accursed! But there may bo hope.” ith these exclamations, he turned his horse, lanced its sides savagely with his ek and sprang away on the backward , path. oe 21 CHAPTER XXII. THE CHILD OF THE CORD. “Let him ride!” sneered Tilac. “He'll not ride far. The wound will turn dark; a black ooze will gush from it, and he will die in pain.” hile Tilac gazed after the vanishing form of Bracegirdle, the realization of hei situation burst upon Melicent. She was now in the hands of two natives, of whom she ha | everything to learn and everything to sus- pest She had gained nothing, she feared, y the late thrilling event. Seeing ‘Tilac and his companion looking after the lessen- ing shape of Bracegirdle, the thought of es- cape came upon her, and she fled into the jungle, which, in that place, was dense. She ran swiftly, but not far. The attempt to vie with the speed of Tilac, she knew would fail; she therefore dropped down among the foliage, and lay motionless. It proved the best thing she could have done; for both Tilac and kis companion passed her in furi- ous chase. When their steps sounded far distant, she arose and hurried back to the bridle-path, in which the horses were quietly standing. ‘Taking a stick from the ground, she struck each a blow, which sent them gallop- ing away. This done, she crept into the vines on the opposite side, and cowered close to the earth. In a few minutes, Tilac and the other xre- turned, astonished and at fault. Discovering that their horses had run away, even the sto- icism of Tilac was moved. “ By the burning sun!” he exclaimed, “we prosper not, Kassim. This grieves me more than the treachery of Upas, who tore my vp and wounded my flesh. She must have hidden. Iam always cunning, yet al- ways batiled.” “Yes, answered Kassim, “ the prey is ever snatched from your hand. The English girl did well; for to sorrow she would have come at last. Where are our horses, Hydia- bad? Lhad rather have my beautiful mare than your white Englishwoman.” “ Accursed be you and your mare! And accursed be Bowanee and Thuggee, and all the gods of the Strangler!” cried Tilac, in a dark and gloomy rage. “Throw not scorn in the face of your dei- ties,” said Kassim, contemptuously. “You are right, Kassim. I should curse none of the gods. The gods are sometimes the most friendly when they seem most ad- verse. But this English girl, Kassim, was fairer than the daughters of earth are wont to be. You have seen me charm the snake ; you have seen me hold it in irresistible bond- age by the simple power of my will. So this goddess of a woman has charmed me. The cuarmer is charmed ; the tamer is tamed. Tilac paused, and his brown breast rose and fell with emotion. “I was fascinated, and I was the serpent under her feet. She detested me as such. She shrank with shuddering and loathing from Hydrabad, or Tilac, or any one with a swarthy skin. Her scorn was like arrows, and her hate like spears. Ah, had she known I was one of the Accursed People, she would have seen me dragged at the feet of wild horses with a feeling of joy! There was no hope for a black son of India. “Think not that I loved, Kassim. If I loved, I also hated. My passion was like the glimmer of burnished steel, cold and deadly. She would have withered in my hand. Y should have er her like the vapors that rise in the valley of the Guevo, Wau Kassim, I am nota man but a devil! Inme dwells Satan My joy is in destruction; my pleasure ix pain; my happiness in the misery of others.” \ “Thou art indeed Satan!” answered Kas- sim, in a shuddering voice. “ Think’st thou go, my Kassim ?” answered Tilac, laughing. “Thine eyes have been long in learning to see.” “Stop where you are a moment; if you are Satan, where was your power over the tigress? Do not the beasts bow to Satan?” “ Now thou art on serious ground,” replied Hydrabad. “The devil has no power over animals. As I said not lon ago, animals are the providences of God. ‘Phat which lives true to its nature has nothing to fear from God or devil. Animals live true to their natures; therefore have nothing to fear. Responsible beings we may control; but ani- mals, and lightning, and storms, are the arrows of God.” Tilac turned his darting eyes to the soft
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wi Hydrabad, the Strangler. heavens, and muttering a strahge invocation, beat wildly upon his breast. “ Do you feel cold?” asked Hydrabad. “ Yes,” answered Kassim, trembling. “I feel cold.” “Tt is the shadow of death!” said Tilac; and leaping upon Kassim like a ravenous lion, he slipped a noose over his head, threw him upon his face, stood upon his shoulders, and strangled him. When lite was extinct, |he lifted the body, cast it into the bushes, and went his way. Melicent, from her grassy hiding-place, witnessed this terrific scene with sensations of horror too intense to be described. Her brain reeled and whirled, and staggered with awe and dread long after the Strangler had disappeared from her swimming sight. CHAPTER XXIII. THE PALANQUIN. While Melicent was slowly recovering from the shock her nerves had sustained, a palanquin, borne by four natives, came in sight. In the palanquin was a European about thirty years of age, of a pleasing coun- tenance, and wearing the uniform of an offi- cer of high rank. That face gave her confi- dence. Her blood thrilled with pleasure. Despair gave place to hope, and sickly fear to healthful anticipation. She obeyed the first impulse of her mind, and arising, hasten- ed to intercept the palanquin. At the first limpse of her figure, the officer commanded is bearers to halt, and arose from his recum- bent position. The natural geeny, of his nation was agen displayed. “ Lady,” he cried, “do I indeed behold the face of a countrywoman. Surely, it is mis- fertune alone that brings you here. Nay, speak not. Your pale face, your disheveled hair, your clasped hands, your imploring ex- pression, tell me what is the duty of a true gentleman.” : He sprang from the palanquin, and advanc- ing to Melicent, doffed his military cap, and extended his hand. It was his left hand that he offered. “Excuse the left hand, Madam,” he said, “for the right has tasted of rebel steel.” | Melicent took the proffered hand with in- ‘describable emotion. Never, never had hu- /man hand appeared so precious. Her feel- ings overpowered her, and staggering for- ward, she was received unconscious on the brave breast of the stranger. With not a lit- tle pain to his wound, with his own hands he laced her in the palanquin. Her wondrous eauty excited not only his sympathies but his admiration. With her respiration appar- ently suspended, her cheeks ivory white, her long, dark lashes closed over her eyes, she presented to him a picture of beauty and Sa oes which not only appealed to his manhood, but called forth the tenderest feel- ings of his soul. ‘aking from the pocket of the palanquin a flask, he bathed her brow and moistened her lips with its contents. . When indications of returning life appeared, he ordered the bearers to proceed, and watching her coun- tenance unremittingly, walked by her side. Melicent went on dreamily. She had but one consciousness, and that was a vague real- ization of relief and safety. However deep ran the current of her inward withdrawal from the external world, that sense of res- cue was present, imminent, delicious. The motion of the palanquin was like the luxu- riant undulation of waves; the sound of the Englishman’s voice was like a mother’s Iull- aby, inviting repose and confidence. She drifted on like a living dream ; like a fancy swimming in a Lethean river ; like a thought divorced from care. If Melicent sighed, it was not from suffer- ing; if her lips quivered, it was not from fear; if she clasped her white hands, it was not a prayer for mercy, for she knew that an English officer walked beside her. She [knew what kind of stuff English officers were made of; and in her weakness, in the reaction of her overwrought sensibilities, she remem- bered her countrymen, and had faith in the national honor. She tried to smile her grati- tude, and then, despite her best resolutions, sank into a state of dreaminess. In this tranquil condition Melicent was carried a long distance, through an unfre- quented and narrow way, where there was scarcely room to admit the e of the palanquin. She revived while being borne up a flight of stone steps. A large door was then opened in an antique-looking building, ' and the palanquin set down in a wide stone | hall. Melicent ponent at once that she was in an old idol temple. The officer as- sisted her to alight, and seeing that she was quite restored, was exceedingly gratified. He | introduced himself. “My name, Madam, is Argent,” he said. wih hold the rank of Colonel in the British Army. My regiment is now in active service, and it is my misfortune and not my fault that Tam not at the head of it. Having been wounded with the sabre of a mutinous Sepoy, I was considered unfit for duty, and witha few trusty men, took charge of some English ladies, most of them wives and daughters of the officers in my regiment. Among those ladies was a beloved sister. I accepted this trust as a solemn duty, and have discharged it to the best of my ability. With infinite difficulty, and after many escapes and thrill- ing adventures, I succeeded in safely reach- ing this old temple, which a devoted servant informed me was a place so remote and little visited, that we might remain concealed here, unmolested, a long time. The temple is large, with innumerable secret avenues and priestly contrivances, which kept one con- tinually making fresh discoveries and finding new hiding-places. To the ladies I have spoken of, Madam, I shall now have much pleasure in conducting you.” “Colonel Argent,” answered Melicent, joy- fully affected by what she had heard, “no- thing could be more agreeable than the turn which Providence has given my fortunes within the last hour. The particulars I will tell you when Iam somewhat recovered from fatigue and excitement. Iam the daughter of Major Alexis Rainbold, of whom you may have heard. Last night, I was suddenly seiz- ed, placed on a horse, and hurried away. What transpired afterward, you shall know in good time.” t was now morning. The sun had not arisen, but there was a ruddy glow in the east that betokened his coming. It was not yet light enough tosee in the temple. Colonel Argent rang a bell, and an English soldier, with a wooden leg, appeared with a lamp. Looking around her, Melicent saw various niches, in some of which were hideous idols. “T have heard of Major Rainbold,” said Ar- gent, leading the way. “He is a brave offi- cer, and has seen service. Iam most fortu- nate in being able to offer shelter and safety to his daughter. The Colonel never spoke with more sincer- ity in his life. His whole deportment bore testimony to the interest Melicent had excit- ed in his mind. As the wooden-legged soldier went stump- ing before him, and the young lady leaned timidly upon his arm, there was a flutter of his nerves and aturmoil of the blood that he had never before experienced. After many and, to Melicent, inexplicable windings and turnings, opening and shutting of doors, she was finally ushered into the presence of the ladies alluded to. Her recep- tion was all she could have wished ; friendly, cordial, and earnest. When she had related the incidents of the night just passed, their interest and kindness, if possible, increased. The colonel’s sister, a fair-haired, blue-eyed girl, was particularly attentive and sympa- thizing. hen it was presently insisted upon that Melicent should take some repose, this fair girl sat by her till she awoke, soothing her troubled tossings, and watching anxious- ly her fevered dreams. CHAPTER XXIV. THE DECOY AND THE SERPENTINE VIAL. The elephant swept on. Heseemed an im- mense missile hurled from a gigantic engine. Although the horses laid back their ears, stretched out their necks, and devoured the ground with their spanning feet, they soon were left behind, and Barnabas was obliged to slacken the speed of Methuselah. “Tt is most exciting!” saidIda. “If Meli- cent were with us, I could almost feel happy- This is a royal beast, Mr. Hutton.” “Well, it’s about as spry as they make, I guess. You wouldn't think such a wounded great critter was spry, would ye? Spry! less your pretty face, Miss Idy! He hasn’t scarcely started, yet. Yousee got him part- ly for the turf, partly for his intelligence, and | partly for his strength. That makes three partlies; and he’s got’em, 1 vow? He's got | the ad valorem both in speed, Sagacity, and | power. And as ior size, Mum, there isn't a | one wiser than I. | barn in Ameriky that can compete with him in bigness. The Yankees, young woman, go in for the tiptop of everything. Common consarns don’t do for’em. They outgrowed mediocrity years ago. If a Yankee has a horse, it must be a fast horse; if he has a farm, it must be an almighty great one; if he | has a wife, she must be awful handsome; if he has children, them children must be the smartest in all creation.” Barnabas paused, and bending forward, patted one of Methuselah’s broad ears with ne lance, which he never forgot to take with im. “Tf he has an elephant,” he added, with pride, “ he must be a elephant like Methuse- lah. He must. Yes!” Mr. Hutton pronounced the concluding words with the greatest complacency. But he was not a little startled just then at hear- ing Upas—whose muzzle, as she sat placidly on the elephant, reached, over his shoulder, directly in close nearness to his cheek and ear —emit a most unexpected and astounding roar Barnabas was so consternated by this explo- sion that he plunged forward to Methuselah’s head without ceremomy. Safely lodged on this expansive surface, he whipped round and turned backward a face so full of comical amazement, that it excited the risibility of both the girls. “That comes o’ that generous cuss!” he cried. “ What you mean, you screechin’ kit- ten? Sick, ain’tye? Seized suddint, I s’pect. Don’t mean to chaw, do ye? Ifyou do, don’t commence on them tender things, but try he teeth in a tough Yankee.” Hutton rought his lance into warlike position ; but Upas, with her handsome head in the air, did not in the least notice him. She repeated the prolonged and singular sound. It was answered atar off in the jungle. Miss Macgregor was looking at Alethe, and observed that she grew pale; that her lips parted ; that her eyes dilated. She could not comprehend this change, but continued to look at her. Upas threw her nose in the air again, and reiterated the note that had pro- duced so much surprise. It was now neither harsh nor abrupt; but soft, musical, and pro- tracted. Without the lapse of a moment, the swelling bugle-cry was responded to; but it was not a melodious wail; it was a deep, startling roar. “A decoy tigress!” exclaimed Alethe, in great alarm. “ A decoy tigress? What do you mean, little ’un ?” asked Barnabas. “Upas isa decoy. She has been trained to allure the fierce lords of the forest from their secret lairs. It is the work of Tilac! Every male tiger within the sound of her voice will be upon us. We may needascore of beaters and hunters to repel them, and we may need no more than your single arm, aided by Upas and the elephant. Heaven only knows! Whereis my—where is my master !” She stopped and strained her starry eyes on the backward path. “Iseehim! I see him!” she added, clasping her hands. “Isn’t he a brave, handsome man, Miss Macgregor? Don’t you love him, Miss Macgregor ?” “Yes,” answered Ida, astonished and be- wildered. “I love my guardian.” “You ought! you ought! You cannot find a braver man or a kinder gentleman. Ask him to expose you to danger, and he would go into a towering rage; ask him to risk his life for you, and he’d smile. What can be better than that? Do you know any- thing more exalted, Miss Ida ?” Miss Macgregor, impelled by a kindly in- fluence, laid her hands on the shining hair of Alethe, and looked into her face as she had never done before. There was love, doubt, surprise, in that look. “ Alethe,” she said, in a gentle tone, “for- give me if [have ever called you ought but sister. I knew,” she whispered, there was a mnystery in the whiteness of your skin and the Christian sweetness of your temper; but your secret never before shone from your eyes or spoke to me in the ineffable tender- ness of your lips.” Ida kissed the girl’s forehead, her lips, her cheeks, and her dimpled chin. Alethe began to weep. “You have betrayed me!” she murmured. “You have ravished from me my inner life. But your eyes and your kisses ie betray complain not, I reproach not, I only ask silence. For the sake of Mel- icent, for the sake of him (see how brave he looks !) I ask silence.”
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Hydrabad, the Strangler. Those words were whispered most hurried- ly and most softly into the ear of Ida, which the white lips of Alethe touched. “Fear not!” responded Miss Macgregor, deeply moyed. ‘A bond is established be- tween us that may never, never be broken. Trust, my Creamy-eyed, trust!” “# pluribus! You gals ’pear to be meltin’ and runnin’ together. * don’t see what’s the good of kissin’ and cryin’. Let the varmint roar. Who cares for roarin’? I don’t, and Methuselah don’t. Bless your little pink bodies, he could kill a rigiment ofem! Don’t he oneasy—don’t. Pray keep the watery elements in their nat’ral reservoir, and don’t drown your pretty eyes. A drownded pair o’ eyes is dim, and a’n’t the things to look at.” Both Ida and Alethe smiled at honest Bar- nabas. “That's more cheerful like,’ quoth he. “We can take care of ourselves, Pll war rant.” Upas cried out again, and the masculine voice responded much nearer than before. “Can't you stop her?” asked Barnabas. “ Clap a brake on her orgins.” His voice be- trayed some uneasiness. “Tilac has trained her. Habit is stronger in this instance, than my influence. Be pre pared, Mr. Barnabas, for a conflict. ‘The male tiger will soon be upon us, and Upas will attack it ; but I fear she will not be equal to the struggle. Bring your elephant to her help.” A tremendous roar shook the jungle. A splendid full-grown tiger sprang into the narrow track before them. Upas bounded over the head of Barnabas, and alighted on the ground. The stranger tiger was not dis- posed to combat; but Upas darted on him like an arrow, and a fierce conflict followed. “ Methuselah! Methuselah!” cried Barna- bas. “ Pick him out—pick him out, old boy! Don’t let him git the better of the little ‘un, At him—! say, at him!” Animated by the earnest voice of Hutton— and Methuselah needed small incentive when a fight was in view—the elephant rushed to the whirling and mixed mass of tiger, and darting out his trunk, seized the new-comer with unerring certainty, and lifted him in air; but both tigers were so intervolved and so savagely interlocked, that they rose to- ether in the omnipotent arm of Methuselah. pas, guided by her instincts and her train- ing, and seeing how the battle was being de- cided, struggled free, and dropped lightly to the earth. But the wild, princely, and hith- erto unmatched male, writhed hopelessly in the coil of the elephant; his ribs yielded, his bones cracked like glass, and his proud life was extinguished. Methuselah carried the quivering and un- resisting weight a short distance, then drop: ped it with a shrill whistle of disdain and triumph. Upas watched its conquered foe a moment, and then flew back to Alethe with the light- ness of a bird, and put up its head to be ca- ressed. Alethe could not resist the eloquent appeal. However mistaken the action, the motive was of the best, and in harmony with her education. Her eyes sparkled like the fires of a forge. Her mouth was open, her tongue thrust out, and her chest heaving with recent exertion; but there was a perceptible and comprehensible expression and glow of pride in the dumb face of Upas. It would have been cruel not to respond to it. Alethe threw her arms around her neck, kissed her soft head, and spoke kindly to her. The creature seemed ready to die with pride and pleasure ; for itis the same with man or animal, a sense of duty done brings hap i- ness. Every gradation of life is governed by its instincts or its wisdom. Upas was govern- ed by her instinets and her wisdom. Barnabas Hutton witnessed this, not only with wonder but admiration. He really be- lieved that Alethe never did and never would do anything that was not entirely warranted by the circumstances of the case. Barnabas trusted in Alethe and in Methuselah. He knew what these had done. He had been an eye-witness of the courage and devotion of the first ; and as for the latter, long companion- ship had assured him of his fidelity and friendship. ‘ “Demme,” cried the Major, spurring up, “the jungle is full of tigers!” «There's one of ’em I'll make you a present of,” answered Barnabas, pointing to the life- lessanimal that layin the path. “If any more on ’em come, they'll git the same rycep- tion.” “Dead!” exclaimed Kavanagh. “ Dead, demme!” said the Major. “Dead, demme!” quoth Barnabas. He looked humorously at the Major. “ Have hard work to keep up, don’t ye ?” Then to Alethe: “ You’ll have to tie a string round that kitten’s neck, if it’s goin’ to make them noises. We can't stop to fight with tigers every few minutes. If we're goin’ on a reg’lar hunt, I’d rather take daylight for’t.” “Pil try and keep her quiet, Mr. Barnabas,” replied Alethe. “T wonder what’s comin’ now ?” said Hut- ton, who was ever on the alert. This query referred to a sound resembling the rapid gal- lop of a horse, and which soon proved to be such. While all eyes were fastened in the direc- tion of the clattering, a man on horseback ren appeared, whom they recognized. It was Raynor Bracegirdle. He drew up his horse, with every sign of intense excite- ment. “T am bitten! Iam bitten!” he cried. His pallid face, his despairing voice, and the general agitation of his manner, showed how terribly he realized his situation. The parties looked at him with dismay. Barnabas was the first to speak. “What's the matter of ye?” he asked. “ You look like a ghost a horseback.” “T have been bitten by a cobra-capello! Will you sit looking at me like statues ? Can- aot something be done? Will you see me die miserably before your eyes, without lift- ing a hand ?” exclaimed Bracegirdle, in start- ling accents. “Don’t know what we can do for ye,” an- swered Barnabas. “The bite of one of them snakes is pesky p'ison. Shouldn’t want one of ’em to tackle me, not by no means. Folks neyer get over them kind o’ hurts, I’ve heerd.” Alethe slid down from the elephant. The movement was so quick, that Hutton was not aware of it till he saw her standing on the ground. “Shall I save him, Mr. Barnabas?” she asked, as if arrested by a sudden thought. “T don’t know, Brownie! He don’t seem scurcely worth it. Howsomever, if you’ve ot that anecdote about ye, you'd better try it. I don’t like to see a fellow-critter die from the bite of a plaguy snake.”, “T thought you’d say so, Mr. Barnabas,” answered Alethe. She turned to Bracegirdle. “Get offyour horse. Be quick, for the venom of the cobra is speedy.” “T know not what you mean,” said Raynor, “but in Heaven’s name try what you will.” He threw himself from his horse, and bar- ing his neck, kneeled at Alethe’s feet. “There! there is the wound!” he gasped. “Do you not see it? I feel death already in my veins. It is stealing upon me. There is ice in my blood!” “Keep still, Do not tremble. You can die but once. Eyen good men must die once,” said Alethe, producing the serpentine vial, and preparing to apply its contents. “Good men,” groaned Bracegirdle, “can die easier than I. Saye me! save me!” She dropped the sparkiing elixir into the wound. Bracegirdle shivered and writhed. “Tt scorches,” said he, “like fire! It thrills through me as lightning. Girl! girl! I fear you have deceived me. You excite hope, that my despair may be more dreadful.” “Look at him!” replied Alethe, pointing to Kavanagh. Bracegirdle raised his eyes, and, secing the young oilicer, was greatly amazed. “The dead comes to reproach me! he mut- tered. “Iam surely dying, for phantoms flit before my failing sight. All things reel; all things stagger; all things fail! The earth slips from beneath my feet; I slide off; I go down into the vortex! Oh, for some hu- man hand to grasp!” Bracegirdle spoke in agony and bitterness; in fear, in remorse. te saw his sins overtaking him; he saw his hypocrisy rolling upon him like billows of the sea, ingulfing him forever. “Take my hand! take my hand!” said Alethe. ‘Hold it fast! hold itfast! It will keep you on the earth. It will keep you from darkness.” Bracegirdle clutched her hand like a drown- ing man. He pressed it to his forehead; he held it in both his; he clung to it, as to his ' life; he sobbed upon it piteously. ‘There is 23° nothing like a friéndly Human hand in the hopeless hour of the soul’s dread and. dark- ness. Itis more than gold, itis more than houses and lands. “ You will live, Mr. Bracegirdle, you will live,” said Alethe, allowing him to crush her little hand in his, to bruise it, to moisten 1t with his tears, and to kiss it. He believed himself dying ; in the hour of dying one must have something tangible to grasp. Uncer-| tainty will not do. Dying flesh and blood clings to living flesh and blood with inex- pressible yearning. No matter whether the dying be good or bad, it is the same. “You will live, Mr. Bracegirdle, you will live,” repeated Alethe. “ ‘This is a sovereign antidote for poison. It saved him—” she pointed to Kavanagh. “Tt saved him!” said Bracegirdle, some- what wildly. “ A single drop, Mr. Bracegirdle.” “But there isa difference!” moaned Ray- nor. ‘He deserved to be saved; I do not. I, the betrayer, have been betrayed. By the hand of Tilac 1 perish. -Rainbold—Kava- nagh—should you ever find this Tilac, slay him as you would a venomous reptile !” “How do you feel?” asked Alethe. “Is there not a burning in the wound and a thrill in your blood?” “JT can almost think so,” said Raynor, slowly. “Think again.” “Tt is true! There is a glow in my blood. The ice changes to fire. Iswelter—l burn!” “Tt will pass,” said Alethe. “Hear me!” exclaimed Raynor. “IfT live, my life shall be at your service. 1 freely lay it at your feet. Tread on it, as you would on a serpent, or use it as you please; it shall be no longer mine.” “Vows made in peril are incipient lies. The man who is bad, is bad from his own na- ture, and bad he will ever remain. Arise, Mr. Bracegirdle, mount your horse, and go whither you will. You are snatched from death, and for that be thankful. That which saved him saves you.” She again pointed at Kavanagh. “Had he died, you also would have died. That which thwarted you, also saves you.” “Ts everybody listenin’ to this?” asked Bar- , nabas, aglow with honest earnest enthusiasm. “For the sake o’ human natur’, I hope your fakilties are lively. The way I look at things, nothin’ can be more instructive nor this. Look at that small gal, will ye?” Barnabas leveled his arm at Alethe. The Major looked at him big affectionately indeed, and as he had never before looked at him. He appear- ed to have made an important discovery. What could it have been? “There's a gal,” continued Barnabas, “ that don’t perfess to be a Christian ; that don’t erfess nothin’; and yet you see she’s done it. ot everybody would done it. But, Major” —he turned to Rainbold—“ she isn’t so dark as some o’ the natyyes. There’s more white in her than there is of ’tether. Now, Major” —he raised his right hand, which had the lance in it— that color’s superior to any other. I like it better, and it is better!” “ You're a fine fellow, demme !” vociferated the Major. “I should like a regiment of such lads, and if I had ‘em I'd mareh to the relief of Lucknow without loss of time.” “They make officers of such men in Amer- ica,” said Kavanagh. “And brave oilicers, too, I'll be bound!” responded the Major. He glanced again at Hutton, then at Alethe; but his eye dwelt longest, and apparently with most pleasure, on the latter. “Mount your horse, Mr. Bracegirdle,” re- peated Alethe, “and go your way. The dan- er, as I have told you, is past. ‘Trust not, in uture, the friendship of bad men.” “ Accursed Tilac! muttered Bracegirdle. He arose from the earth upon which he had sunk after the application of the elixir. He did not think he had strength to stand, or re- cover his seat in the saddle; but upon mak ing the trial, he found himself stronger than he had thought. A pleasant languor stole over him. Despair was succeeded oh calm- ness, and fear by confidence. “Where is Melicent?” whispered Alethe, fully persuaded that he had been the cause of her disappeance. The face of Bracegirdle became suffused with shame. “You require of me,” he said, in a subdued voice, “a humiliating confession. I see be- fore me—he looked at Rainbold and Kaya-
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24 nagh—“ two, against whom I have sinned deeply. Spare me the confusion of confession | till I am stronger. I left Miss Rainbold in the hands of Tilac. Ifyou hasten, you may be able to overtake them. Do not delay. Tell Hutton to advance with all speed.” While Barnabas was assisting Alethe to remount the elephant, she communicated the information she had received, and they ‘set forward at a rapid rate, followed at a slow- er pace by Bracegirdle. CHAPTER XXvV. THE LAND OF LIGHT AND THE LAND OF DARKNESS. “Whoa! Stop, old boy! Can't you stop when you gitagoin’? Whoa! Whoa!” It was thus that Barnabas addressed his elephant, after they had ridden some time with great swiftness.” What's this aside the road, I won- der ?” he asked, looking at an object, sitting feebly upon the ground. “ A fellow-being,” replied a weak voice. “What's the matter of ye, fel!er-bein’ ?” de- manded Bar iabas. “Sahib, I have been foully murdered!” re- sponded the man on the ground, in a hollow tone. “ You're more fortinit than some,” said Bar- nabas. “As a general thing, people as is rourdered can’t tell on't. Ain't hurt much, I spose, by bein’ murdered ?” “Speak to him more kindly, Mr. Hutton,” said Ida, gently. “It's a cussed natyve!” muttered Barna- “Sahib,” returned the other, “1 am of a dark skin, but Iam none the less your fellow- mortal. I have not long to live, and there- fore will not long detain you.” “Well, natyve, lay the matter afore us as soon as you can, and arterwards die at your leisure,” said Hutton, impatiently. “ My name,” resumed the native, “is Kas- sim.” “Sorry to see you so poorly, Kassim,” quoth Barnabas. “T shall be better soon,” said Kassim. “Brahma will open his arms to me, and [ shall be blest. Brahma is the beginning, Brahma is the end.” The voice of the speaker was low and sol- emn. “It is God who is the beginning and the end,” said Ida, compassionately. “Tt matters not, lady, whether I call him God or Brahma, Buddha, Vishnu, or Shiva. The Creator is Ruler, by whatever name. I call him Brahma, and to Brahma I am go- “T wish you a good journey,” said Barna- bas. “Let us not detain you. I mean no desrespect to you nor your religion, feller-be- in’, but our haste is urgent.” *Perchance, Sahib, you may make more speed by delay than by haste.” He raised his eyes feebly. ‘“Isee one here,’ he went on, “ who has lost a daughter.” “ Native,” cried Rainbold, springing from his horse, ‘tell me the fate of my daughter, and there is no request I will not grant you.” “ What request should I have, Sahib? Am I not crossing the black water? Can you take me back, if i ask you? Can you open the river and let me pass through with dry feet ? No, Sahib, no! Death comes once to every man, swarthy or white, high or low. And he has come to me. He has come tomelikea thief; ay, like a vile and miserable Sirang- ler!” At that instant Bracegirdle came up. Kas- sim beheld him with a wondering stare of as tonishment. “ Not dead, Sahib, not dead!” he murmur- ed. “You should be dead, and I should be dead, too. But that I will shortly be. Look not at me, pale spectre!” He paused. “ Lis- ten to me,Sahibs. Look atmyneck. There is a dark welt around it; it is a mark of the cord of the Thug. It is the fatal sign of the Strangler !” Ida shuddered. 2 “Be calm, my dear Miss Macgregor, said Kavanagh. “This,” added Kassim, touching his neck, “is the gift of Tilac! Is the gift of Hydra- bad! Is the gift of Hurdwar, the son of Meerab !” “One and the same!” cried Alethe, awed and wonder-stricken. “Crafty dissembler ! Arch-hypocrite! Infernal being!” “These,” Kassim went on, “are not his only names. He continually changes name and character. In him dwells the dark spirit of evil. He has employed me often, and de- ceived me always.” He looked at Bracegir- dle. “After you were bitten, Sahib, by the cobra-capello he adroitly placed upon you, and turned backward with the dread of death within you, the fair English girl fled into the jungle. She hid, and Tilac found her not. I only knew the spot where she crouched, trembling. I saw the rank grass quiver, but I revealed it not. I wished not that the black wolf should tear her. The claws of Upas are far less cruel than his. The spirit of Satan that was in him urged him to new crime. He could not rest without sin. So he leaped upon me, noosed the cord around my neck, bore me down, and, standing with his feet on my shoulders, strangled me till I was appar- ently dead. Perhaps I was dead, and Brahina brought me to life to speak these words to ou.” “Call him God! said Ida, reverently. “Fair English girl,” he answered, with humility, “I will call him God, if it please you. Even God let it be! Irevived, as you see. I crept from the bushes, and here you found me.” * And why may you not live ?” asked Ida. “English girl, I bleed inwardly. The scarlet stream of life is flowing into my lungs, which will soon be full. hen it reaches my throat, I shall suffocate. I was called back but for a brief period; and I return without regret to the scenes from which I have been transiently recalled.” ‘But my daughter! my daughter!” cried the Major. “ Sahib, I wish I could restore her to your arms ; but I have performed my mission, and can do no more.” His accents were now very weak, and there was a rattling in his throat. “ Beware,” he added, speaking with difii- culty, “of Tilac, Hydrabad, Hurdwar, the son of Meerab. He appears in all shapes— trust not a shape of them all. Euroreans, you are warned ! Avoid the cord, the dag ger, the serpent, the claws of beast, and the poisun of the man of drugs.” He stopped again, and seemed muttering prayers. “JT go,” he faltered, in tones scarcely audi- ble, ‘to the world of rewards and punish- ments; to the land of light and the land of darkness !” Kassim’s body swayed to and fro a moment, and then fell lifeless upon the soft foliage. CHAPTER XXVI. THE DEVOTEE. Major Rainboid gazed at the inanimate form of Kassim in doubtand wonder; but Barnabas Hutton, ever active and practical, sprang from his enormous beast, saying : “Come, Majer, come! Let us beat the jungle some’at. We may find the poor gal, perhaps. hereabouts.” “Thank you, my boy, thank you!” said the Major, vacantly. “My dear guardian,” said Ida, anxiously, “do not take this so seriously to heart. I feel assured that Melicent will be restored to us unharmed.” “Bless you! bless you, my good girl! he answered, looking all the while at Alethe. “Bless you, my sweet child and daughter |” “How kind he is!” mrarmured Alethe. “ How gently he looks atus! This blow dis- turbs his mind.” ; “Kavanagh, my boy,” said Barnabas, “ stay here with the gals while we look round.” The faithful Hutton and the nearly para- lyzed Major beat the jungle till morning; when, entirely assured that the object of their search was not in the vicinity, they resumed their way. They had not traveled far, when they met an old man walking aren supporting his bent figure with a staff. His face was pale and wrinkled, his garments tattered and torn. He seemed lost in devout meditation. He scarcely raised his head to return the saluta- tion of Barnabas. “Tet me question him,” said Kavanagh. “ Wemay make him useful. Old man, whence come you ?” y “ Huropean, I neither came from home nor am I going home.” “That means,” said Barnabas, “that he ha‘n’t got no home. And I shouldn’t think he had; nor nobody to do his mendin’, neither.” “T am one that walks up and down the | Hydrabad, tLe Strangler. earth, in pursuit of that which I have never seen, and which no one has ever found,” added the old man. “Tt can’t be dirt he’s arter, for there’s enough o’ that onto him!” quoth Barnabas, humorously. “JT mean Truth,” said he of the staff. “Soap and water would do you more good,” sneered Barnabas; for, in fact, the pilgrim was very filthy in his person. * Holiness,” resumed the old man, “ regards not the body, but pertains solely to the mind.” : “'That’s Hindu, clear through !” grumbled Barnabas. “But you needn't tell me that a dirty man was ever a good man; nor a dirty woman a good woman. Dirt and goodness won’t mix, nohow. Come, Mr. Kavanagh, you don’t git on much with this holy critter.” The old man glanced at Upas, and Upas lashed the elephant’s bak gently with her tail. “We want a guide, pious pilgrim,” said Kavanagh, “to some place of security; no matter how poor it may be ; and the more re- mote from native settlements, the better We are in extremity, and will reward you liber- ally for your friendly services.” “Tt is not my manner of life to meddle with the affairs of men. I seek but the puri- fication of my soul,” responded the pilgrim. “Good actions,” replied Kavanagh, “ purify the soul.” “ Huropean, it may be so ; but, usually, holy men cannot stop to perform them. Tasers me how I may serve you with less trouble; for, let me tell you, that wandering santons and fakirs hate exertion above all things.” “You shall have your hands filled with rupees,” interposed the Major, “if you will but lead us toa place of concealment.” “ Rupees are good for both saint and sin- ner,” said the old man, thoughtfully. -“I know of an old idol temple, deep in the soli- tude of a jungle, that is little frequented, save now and then by priests and fakirs. Were it not so far, and were my limbs less weak, J would conduct you thither.” Rainbold took out his purse. “ Pay me after my work is done. He works best and most faithfully who works in antici- pation of reward.” “# pluribus! The most sensiblest thing you've said, old truth-hunter! If you're the means o’ doin’ us any good, I'll show yea bilin’ spring, as a reward o’ merit,” observed Mr. Hutton. “ Decide quickly,” said Kavanagh. “T have decided,” replied the fakir. “But my steps are slow, and my limbs feeble. Question me no further, and follow patiently. 1 will show you the temple.” The old man turned and struck into the jungle. Although Barnabas addressed him several times, he returned no answer. Leaning on his staff, he walked on at an even but pain- fully slow pace, turning neither to the right nor left, nor once glanced over his shoulder. When this silent progress had continued an hour, the fakir stopped at the summit of a small eminence, and, pointing with his statf, said: “ Europeans, there is the temple.” “And here,” said Rainbold, “ave the ru- pees.” “You would deprive me,” answered the devotee, “ of the merit of a good action. You begrudge me the reward of acharity. Ispit upon your rupees! I abhor your generosity, and I gomy way, leaving the debt to be paid by the gods I serve.” The fakir walked from the spot with no other parting salutation, and while they look- ed after him, he disappeared among the vines and trees. “That pious cuss has mighty queer ways,” remarked Barnabas. Upas growled ; her eyes were fixed on the spot where the man had vanished. “Tf filth is holiness, I shouldn’t want to be no holier nor he is, at the present speakin’.” He mused on that thought a moment. “What's come over you, Lethe?” he asked, suddenly, observing a change in the girl’s countenance. “ Nothing, Mr. Barnabas. I felt a slight chill; that was all. Did you notice how pas’ eyes followed the fakir ?” “IT don’t see the eyes of no Upas, when some others is round!” returned Mr. Barna- bas, gallantly. ‘But there’s the temple. Let us push ahead, and see what’s into it.” This being a very reasonable proposal, they quickly approached the gray old temple i © i) |
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where, to their joy and surprise, they were received by a British officer. OHAPTER XXVII HYDRABAD. The happiness of the parties was very great, when informed by Colonel Argent that Meli- cent was there, safe and unharmed. One circumstance perplexed them not a little ; af- ter entering the temple, they looked around for Raynor Bracegirdle, and perceived that he was not with them. Hastening back to the steps, Barnabas saw him riding away ; nor did he, truth to tell, regret his departure ; while the others heartily rejoiced, not one being able to tolerate his presence. His go- ing, though i; my was not the less a welcome évent. It was the last that Major Rainbold saw of the son of his friend. General gratitude and great good feelin, prevailed. The ladies at the temple receive this new acquisition to their numbers with unfeigned satisfaction. Barnabas, the Major, and Kavanagh added materially to the strength of the little garrison. The walls of the building being firm and thick, couls re- sist any attack, almost, that could be made without artillery ; while afew sharpshqoters, stationed at windows, could pick off an enemy with great ease. Matters of this nature were discussed by the gentlemen, while the ladies listened to Ida’s description of their flight, with lively interest. Each retired to rest the ensuing night, with feelings of safety and gratitude that were the best solicitors of sleep. Alethe was just sinking to repose, when a slight scratching at the door attracted her at- tention. She instantly remembered that Upas had been shut in one of the neglected apartments of the temple, and forgotten, She arose and admitted her. Her demonstrations of pleasure were such, that Alethe allowed her to remain. Across one side of the room that had been assigned her, there were several niches, or small recesses, before which hung curtains of sombre stuff, pictured with uncouth images. The niches had probably been used for some of the services of idola Alethe was glad to see Upas, after she had testified her joy at the meeting, retire into one of these and lie down. She felt safer for having this dumb companionship ; for the place, to her, was un- pleasantly lonely. The associations were not ofa pleasing kind. What dark rites might not have been performed in that room ? It was unnaturally chilly, she thought, and there Was a supernatural awe about it. She sank upon the simple couch that had been provided for her, without disrobing, and azed at the pale light of her small lamp a ong time. Finding that she could not sleep, she arose to open adoor connecting it with Melicent’s and lda’s apartment. She had re- mained beside them till they had both passed into gentle slumbers, and then crept to her own ¢ouch in the room we have mentioned. On trying the door, to her surprise she found it fastened ; nor would it yield to her endeay- ors to open it. This’ struck her as bein, exceedingly singular; for she had opene and closed it several times that night without any difficulty. ; She next tried the door communicating with the halls and passages, and finding it as she had left ate panies to her bed. An hour, rhaps, passed, and her eyes were growing Baty Wien she heard A sliding, rolling movement in the wall, and looking curiously toward the recesses, saw one of the curtains move. She watched it for a moment, and it became still, but Lae vibrated more than before, then was pushed aside, and a figure appeared. It was the old devotee who had mulded them to the temple. He wore the same tattered garments, and leaned upon his staff’ as he stood glancing around him. Alethe was terrified. A secret dread of the old man had been upon her when they met before, and nowy that dread was a hundred fold increased. She lay silent, almost breath- less on the couch. The fakir slowly turned toward her. “ Arise,” he said, jn an authoritative tone, “and come with me |” Alethe did eS a gout not. Her person was paralyzed with fear. “ Hearest thou sr »” he added, with severi- ty. “Hast thou not the blood of our people in ad veins? Wilt thou go after strange gods i” ww 25 Hydrabad, the Strangler. before her more terrific. Alethe’s wonder grew greater, and the man Bee, Isaid truly, your hour has come !” “To thy feet, degenérate daughter and fol- low me!” The girl began to gain strength, if not cour- age. e answered : “ @o hence, old man, or I will call those who will tags | expel you!” “You can callno one. Should you now try the doors, you will find them both immov- able as the walls.” “Treachery ! starting up. “Call not! No one can take you from me. I have come for you, and you shall go.” His manner was now threatening, his voice harsh. He advanced. “Who are you?” cried Alethe, retreating. “Look at me, and see! Do not these rags witness forme? Am I not one that wanders for the purificution of his spirit ?” He lifted his eyes full upon hers, and his darting eyeballs swam in great orbs of white. “No, you are not that!” answered Alethe, shrinking and edging slowly toward, the nearest recess. She heard a little growl, but the old man did not hear it. “Tf Tam not what I have said, who am I?” he asked with a sneer and a laugh. “You are Hurdwar! You are Hydrabad ! You are Tilac, the son of Meerab!”’ exclaim- ed Alethe. She retreated still further. Her fixed and stony face was whiter than a Euro- pean’s. “T am more than this,” he answered, cold- ly, and with a sardonic smile. “Jam Satan! fan the incarnate spirit of evil. Yours are the only eyes in India that could have detect- ed me.” He glared at her like a savage beast. “You are all that you have named; and more, if that may be. But I haye seen your changes these many years. From childhood you have crossed my path. You have ap- eared first in one shape, then in another ; but in all forms you have been malignant,” answered Alethe, her cheeks beginning to flush, and her voice to gather energy. “What you have said, girl, is but truth. But Icame not to taik truth. Come! we part not now. We go hence together. You will become mine; you will partake of my spirit ; gon will become partner in my na- ture. You, too, will become the habitation of evil. Satan will live in me, and in thee. The malevolence within me is becoming too great for one body ; there must be two. You are that other, consecrate to evil foreyer- more!” He threw off his ry like lightning, passed his hands over his face, cast off his white locks, and stood before her—Hydrabad! The — carbuncle flamed at his throat, and the ittle lamp and every object in the room was reflected in the moonstone in the handle of his dagger. His lips parted; he rubbed the stain of the betel-juice from his teeth and showed them white and ravenous. He did not laugh, but his smile was pitiless as ice. “T thank you, Hydrabad, that you appear tome thus. Open truth is better than con- cealed hypocricy. A horror known is better than a horror suspected. A fear realized is better than a fear feared. The extremity of my peril drives me to strength. I rebound from ny weakness. I scorn, I defy, I un- speakably loathe you!” She raised her arm—she menaced him with her finger. “ Satan,” she added, “ will never be divid- ed between us. Eyil will never dwell con- jointly in you and me. Tremble, Hydrabad, for your hour has come !”’ here was a solemn pause. The dark fea- tures of Hydrabad grew darker. His figure swelled and erected itself with disdainful ride, till he indeed seemed Satan, robbed of his awful majesty and dire effulgence. “Foolish child!” he retorted, with lofty scorn. “I admire your spirit of steel and the burning fervor of your anger; but with Hy- drabad you cannot contend. Slay this body, and I ahould come againin another. Iam not a man, but a principle.” For the first time since she had known him, Hydrabad laughed aloud; and his laughter fell upon her ears like a fiendish shout of tri- treachery!” cried Alethe, umph. She doubted Upas ; she doubted herself. “Your presumption goes too far,” she said, concealing her misgivings. “The cunning are taken in their own craftiness. They are | taken in the snare they have laid for another. e now stared at her in real wonder. “Upas! Upas !” The curtain stirred. “ Upas! Upas!” The tigress sprang out in a flaming fury. Hydrabad’s swarthy visage grew sallow. “ Kill him! kill him !” cried Alethe, raising) both her arms, and pointing and looking at Hydrabad. The light and graceful body of Upas quiv- ered an instant, fren it launched upon Hy- drabad. ‘There was a momentary contlict. Alethe heard groans and curses. Both man and beast glanced on her sight like shadows. There was a sliding sound in the wall ; and the girl, raising her shuddering eyes, beheld only Upas. But there were pools of blood on the floor, fragments of garments, a dagger with a moonstone in the handle, and near one of the recesses, a silken coord and the carbun- cle that had flamed at Hydrabad’s throat. Upas crouched at the feet of her wistress. She looked up at her for approval, with her red. tongue out, and the heat and glow of the en- counter upon her. Alethe tell apee her ,.knees, cast her arms: around the neck of Upas, and wept upon her’ glossy head. wibt CHAPTER XXVIII. THE ADJUSTMEN'T. Barnabas Hutton, notwithstanding the fa- tigues of the day, found it impossible to re- main quietly within, and so went noiselessly from the temple, after its inmates had sought repose. He was somewhat surprised to find Major Rainbold standing silently beneath the portals of the main entrance. “Thought you was in bed an hour ago,” said Barnabas. ‘ What worries you, Major ?” “Nothing worries me, Barnabas, but I’m too nervous to i The shock of the past night has unsettled me. Why are you stir- ring, my friend ?” “Kinder restless, Major, like yourself. Want to look arter Methuselah, too. Besides, it’s a good thing in times like these to be spy- in’ about consider’ble,” replied Hutton. “ Very true,” said Rainbold. “ We can’t be too much on the alert.” “i pla !” said Barnabas, rather ab- stractedly. “That "Lethe’s rather pretty gal, I think, Major, “ he added after a pause. “J think she is quite pretty, Barnabas,” re- sponded the Major. ; Where did you pick up that gal, Ma- or 2” There was something on Hutton’s mind, obviously. et % foundling, demme!” said Rainbold, curtly. “Wish I’d found her,” replied Barnabas. “Tt must be a deal o’ trouble to take care ofa foundlin’ ?” “Tt is,” returned the Major, fidgeting. “Thought so! Goin’ to take her off our hands. Iam, by pluribus!” Barnabas look- ed up at the moon, then down at the earth, and finally at Rainbold. “What do you mean by that, Sir?” cried the latter. “I'm not going to have girls ta- ken off my hands, demme! I want all the girls I’ve got, and more too, Sir.” “Lethe and Ihave kinder talked it over, and though we didn’t say nothin’ about house- keepin’, I thought we sort of understood each other. Idid. Yes!” “ Understood each other—did you, Sir?” The Major was quite fierce. in, Well, that was the way I looked at it. The pretty little critter didn't say much but, ‘Yes Mister Barnabas,’ but her voice was sweeter nor the squeak ofa flute. Bless m body, ifI ever heard sich a voice! TI felt po Was swimmin’ in a ocean o’ maple molasses, with about a dozen brass bands playin’ Hail Columby all to onct. Dear me! I don't know what’s into her she makes a man so wounded fond of her. She's do-cile, but she’s got the sperrit of Upas, when she’s stirred up. 8 for beauty, the pure white don’t begin with her! Cream and molasses is durned sight nicer color nor clear cream. Jest dro a drop o’ sweetenin’ into the cream, and it gives it a soft mellow shade, Major.” Rainbold was now very attentive, and though he changed his position often, lost not a word that fell from Kratton’s lips. “Speakin’ o’ the cream,” continued Bar- nabas, “don't know where it come from, nor I don’tcare, I'l marry her, if she'll haye me. I will, by pluribus!”
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86 Hydrabad, the Strangler. “ Well, well! ~ This is very queer !” mutter- ed the Major. “TI think you’re in earnest, demme! You’reavery fine fellow, Barnabas. And, Barnabas, don’t you mind about the white blood ; it’s as goodas yours, any day. I know about that blood, Sir, and her moth- er's blood, Sir, too. I love the girl as if she was my own daughter.” _ “T guess I can do better nor that by her, Major,” said Barnabas, quietly. “ You're a scoundrel, Sir!” roared the Ma- jor. “Alethe’s my girl, Sir! My own girl, Sir! I’m her father, Sir! Her own father, demme!”’ . “She isn’t to blame for that,” answered Barnabas, coolly. “She might have had a worse father, Bar nabas?” He looked at Hutton significantly. “T don't know about that. Ican tell you better when you've said something.” Barnabas turned upon him archly. * You're a knave and a villain, and there- fore’—he took both Barnabas’ hands—* there- fore, my dear boy, take her. But keep my secret. ‘There’s Melicent, you know ? I don’t think Melicent knows. But there’s Ida! I think Ida has watched me rather too much. Demme, Sir, [Ida does know? I’ve seen it in her confounded black eyes a dozen times ; and my own foolish face has as good as confessed it on the spot.” “You've convinced me that the gal might had a worse father,” responded Barnabas, with honest emotion. “I’ve known ever since I see ye, that you’s a downright, sensi- ble, hearty, whole-souled, grumblin’, impul- sive, middle-aged gentleman! You be. Yes! ‘But as for your great secret, I don’t think it’s so-much of a secret as you think ’tis. Lord, Major! I spelled it out the first day: and Melicent has spelled it out, and Idy has spelled itout. They've spelled it out, though y mayn’t never have pronounced it. I on you won’t have to speak on’'t, Ma- jor. You may write it down as a under- stood thing. Lord bless ye, Melicent never made a servant of the gal! You might seen that, if you'd had other folk’s eyes. She made a pet on her, and that was all. She used to set, day arter day, on a cushion at her feet, just to be kissed and fondled, and have her dark hair played with. There's a bond atween ’em, that they both love, and that can’t be broke. Hear ’Lethe call her mis- tress’ onet, and see if ’tisn’t perfect music ? And look at Miss Melicent’s eyes when she’s called ‘ mistress’, and see if there isn’t some’at arch and knowin’ in ‘em? I’ve seen the gal smile in your face, acause you thought she didn’t see right into ye. Terrible ’cute, gals be ie “And Alethe?” asked the Major, softly, laying his hand on Hutton’s arm. “Them tell-tale eyes o’ your'n let it out years ago. Lord love ye, Major, the gal adores ye. I wish she adored me, I vow!” Barnabas sighed gently. “The little witch says Mr. Barnabas rather toosoft! Eh, Mr. Hutton ?” The Major pushed the hilt of his sword against Barnabas’ ribs. “ Yes, Mr. Barnabas!” mimicked the Major. *Ha, ha! How's that sound, eh?” “Sounds like thunder ‘longside o’ hern!” replied Barnabas. “The nonsense of a man in love,” said the Major, good-naturedly, much better pleased with Barnabas than ever before. Indeed, the simple good sense of the man quite captivat- ed the heart of the impetuous Kainbold. So they walked arm in arm around the temple, conversing ina very friendly and confiden- tial manner. While thus engaged, the un- easiness of Methuselah drew the notice of bis master, who immediately began talking to him in his own peculiar way. All his ele- phant-talk did not quiet the animal, how- ever. “ There's some’at round that he don’t like,” sid Hutton. “T’ll slip his chain and let him poe” Suiting the action to the word, Methuselah set off with great earnestness through the jun- gle, making a notable crashing among the bamboos. He came back in a few minutes, bringing a man in his trunk. «“That’s the kind o’ trunk to have,” quoth Barnabas. “ A trunk as you can pack a man in. A reg’lar trayelin’ trunk, that is. What you got there,old boy? Picked up a Hindu, haven’t ye? Bring him along, Sir! This ph Sir, this way !” The elephant brought his burden very de- liberately to Hutton. a was an old man, with a long beard and sallow countenance, whom Barnabas at once recognized as Meerab. “ # pluribus!” he exclaimed. “ Here’s the great moonshe himself! Here's the anecdote man ; the man of roots and yerbs, and p’isons. I reckon there ain't no elixirs that can git him out o’ that ere grip without my help. I'm the anecdote you want now, old gentle- man.’ “Who has he got here, Barnabas? What is this ?” “This,” replied Hutton, coolly, “is that in- terestin’ old gentleman that "Lethe took me to see the night we got that little crooked vial of powerful doctor-stuff. Powerful! It was the powerfulest I ever see of any kind o’ p'ison. I ’spose twas p’ison. I ’spose p'ison has to offset p’ison ; leastways our old family practicer used to say so; and what he didn’t know wasn’t scurcely worth studyin’.” Then to Methuselah : “Set him down, animile, set him down! Should think you’s old enough to know how much squeezin’ a crittercan bear. Don’t you see he’s blue-black in the face, and that his arms and legs stick out at right angulars, e’enamost? Dear me! what a weak-minded old elephant.” Methuselah rather reluctantly placed Mee- rab on his feet, which, from some cause, at that moment were of no particular use to him ; for he fell down without an effort on the part of his muscles to keep him up. Mr. Hutton observed this without much surprise. “Tve allers noticed, *he added, “ that when Methuselah gives a crilier a grip round the waist, it takes the stiffenin’ out of him. It does. Yes!” Meerab gasped and quivered on the ground. Methuselsls piped and trumpeted in a man- ner that even startled the Major, at the same time making a peculiar churning motion with his fore feet, lifting one, then the other. “ He allers does it,” explained Barnabas, “when his toes itch to tread on somebody. It’s his instincts, Major, and nothin’ but them. You see he knows the depravity of his mas- ter’s natur, and elephants and sarvents allers want to fall into the depravity of your natur, Major. He knows I'd like to put a bullet thorough that villain, as well as if he’s gifted with human understandin’. See him cast his eyes atme! Don’t you observe the mischief in’em? They say, ‘ Say the word, Barnabas, and I’ll make pumice of him in about the quickest!’ What think, Major?” “ Don’t extinguish him just yet, Barnabas. Let us take him in ; we may learn something from him, perhaps.” “You'll learn nothin’ from me,” said Mee- rab, gasping for breath. “ Don’t be too sure o’ that! Jump up and come along.” Meerab, not being able to jump u and come along, Barnabas seized him by the shoulder, and set him upon his feet, and supported, of rather dragged him into the temple. They had no sooner entered the hall, than Alethe came running to them, in great disorder, followed closely by Upas. Hutton relinquished his grasp upon Meerab, and ran forward to meet her. ** What's the matter, little’un ? What's the mat- ter? Some’at has happened.” ** Yes, Mr. Barnabas,’ answered Alethe, averting her eyes. “Speak, my dear, dear girl!’’ cried the Major, taking her in his arms and kissing her. Barnabas turned away, wiped something wet from his are and pushed Meerab energetically for- WarGe Alethe nestled to the Major; her small hands held him fast; she sobbed on his breast. For the first time, she felt fully acknowledged and fully loyed. He whispered something in her ear that made her dreamy eyes flash with ineffable delight. “ Suy what you wantto! Say what you want to!” articulated Barnabas, coughing and choking. “Lain’t THE END. aseboy nora Hindu, by no means, Lain’t. No. It’s all right, ain't it, ’i,ethe?” “Yes, Mr. Barnabas!” sighed Alethe. “Tt’s all right with your—with the Major, and I, too, Brownie. It is. Yes! He knows, and I know, and you know » and _ I s’pose we. all know. Don’ let us talk. There’s no use in talkin’, you know. When you know a thing; you know it; and there’s no need o’ makin’ a fuss about it, He’s willin’, and owre willin’, and I’m willin’; and we're all will- n’.”’ Barnabas stopped and glared at Meerab. ** Don’t be lookin’ grim at me, old man!’ **T know who she is!” sneered Meerab. “I saw her when she was a child. And my son Hurdwar knows. Yes, Hurdwar knows her.” He glanced at Alethe. then at Upas.. He saw red stains on her striped and shining coat. He pantedand shook with alarm. “Meerab,” said Alethe, “you do well to tremble. My power has proved greater than his, Upas re- membered me; she acknowledged my influence; she confessed the hand that first nourished her. Idwelt near your hut, old man, when Hurdwar came in with this creature. Filled with compassion, I had regard to her helplessness, and warmed her into life. urd- war unmasked his evilnature, I menaced him with his wrath”—she pointed to Rainbold—* and he fled ; to appear again in process of time under ovher names and in other characters. I have foiled himin all. He has been a deadly poison; I have been his counter-poison, Old man, execrable creature, I stand here to-night, safe and unharmed; but your son Hydrabad is torn and rent by Upas. He lies, bleeding and dying, in one of the dark and secret recesses of this te:i@ple.” “Tt is false!’ cried the old man, greatly excited, “ Show us the way, my girl,” said the Major. ‘* Let us sift this mystery thoroughly.” Alethe obeyed this bidding, With the lamp she had brought, she turned and led them to the room where she had been visited by Hydrabad. Barnabas dragged Meerab after her. She showed them the recess through which Hydrabad had come and gone, and related what had happened. Hutton tried in vain to solve the mystery of his entrance. “ Open it, open it, old man!” he said, addressin, Meerab. ‘‘ You belong to the wicked brotherhood, and know the secret.”” Hutton produced a_ pistol. Meerab paused, scowled at Barnabas with fiendish malice, then most reluctantly pressed his foot upon a spring, and a passage, narrow and low, was immediately dis closed. Barnabas took the lamp from Alethe, and pushin, Meerab before him, entered. Rainbold, Alethe, an Upas followed. After going a short distance ina stooping poptare. they came to a spacious apart- ment, dimly lighted.’ A little track of blood led them on. ‘They approached an altar of curious shape, from the foot.of which arose a ghastly figure. It was Hydrabad. He was smeared with blood, his garments rent into shreds, and his face deadly pale, “You think you triumph!” he cried, in a voice husky with weakness, ‘*But you do not, can not triumph. No one can conquer Hydcabad.’ His eyes fell on Upas. ‘* Ungratetul creature !” he mut- tered, ‘t you have pare os this body—this stron; palace of my soul. But will find another, Iwil yet inhabit another temple.”’ 4 “Hurdwar! SHurdwar!” cried Meerab, in a voice of emotion, “ Away, old man, away! Iam not, your son, but the son of evil, the Child of the Cord, the Slave of the Silent Death. Let me die as I have lived—hating and hated.” We paused, and grasping the altar for support, gazed a moment at Alethé. } “ Fatal, fatal lure!’ he murmured. “In. stooping to thee, I lost my power. Thou art beautiful as the stars, but ever my fixed and deadly opposite. The element of Fire claims its own. T surrender the vital spark of my body to the eternal Orb, Father o Light and Heat.”’ ydrabad’s body swayed to and fro. He clutched the sacrificial stones more feebly, He closed his eyes, his dark life went out, and he sank at the foot of the altar. “He is gone! he is gone! Mysonis gone !”’ cried Meerab. ‘I will follow my son. Iwill hasten after Ay son |” Je drew forth a vial, similar in shape to that he had given Alethe, poured. its contents into. his mouth, and shivered the vial upon the stone floor. “Fire of the universe! Igo back to thee!” he ex- claimed, and fell dead npon the body of Hydrabad, “Come away! come away!” said Alethe, in a whisper. ‘ Tarry not here.’ ‘Taking her by the hand, Barnabas led her from the altar-room of the temple of idols. ‘They never en- tered it again, The bones of, Hydrabad and Meerab bleached where they had fallen. Whether the for- mer ever appeared again in another body, the mate- rials upon which this tale is founded make no men- tion; but they do affirm that Alethe and Barnabas lived very happily together, The principal characters of our story remained several months in security in the retreat which they had fortunately found; at the expiration of which, the subjugation of the revolted Sepoys by the En- glish troops freee them alike from danger and the necessity of concealment. y Major Rainbold still resides in India. Neal Kav- anagh and Ida are the possessors of one of the most valuable and romantic situations in the country. Kavanaghsolds a most lucrative office under ‘the home government. ; Colonel Argent made matrimonial overtures to Melicent; and as he married one of the hand- somest Englishwomen in India, we are sure he was accepted. ‘ Barnabas Hutton still rides Methuselah, and has more faith than ever in the little girl Alethe,
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ODE TS See =e 1 Deadwood Dick, THe PRINCE oF THE Roap. By Edward L, Wheeler. 2 Yellowstone Jack; or, TH TRAPPER OF THE ENCHANTED Grounp. By J. E. Badger, Jr. 3 Kansas King; or, THe Rep Ricut Hanp. By Buffalo Bill (Hon, Wm. F. Cody). 4 The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 5 Vagabond Joe; Tn Youna WANDER- ING Jew. By Oll Coomes, 6 Bill Biddon, Trapper: or, Lirk IN THE Nortuwest, By Edward 8S. Ellis. oi The Flying Yankee ; or, Tux OcEAN Ovroast. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. ’ Ky Seth Jones; or, Tom Captives oF THE Frontrer. By Edward S. Ellis. 9 The Adventures of Baron Mun- chausen,. 10 Nat Todd; or, Tue Farr or THE Sioux Caprivs. By Edward §, Ellis. 11 The Two Detectives; or, THE Fortunes oF A Bowrry Grau. By Albert W. Aiken, author of “‘ The Spotter Detective,” ete. 1 Gulliver's Travels. A Voyage to Lilliput, anda Voyage to Brobdingnag. 13 The Dumb Spy. By Oll Coomes, author of “‘ Vagabond Joe,” etc. 1 Aladdin; or, Tae Wownprrron Lamp, 15 The Sea-Cat; or, THE Witcou or Darien. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 16 Robinson Crusoe. His Life and Surprising Adventures, (27 illustrations.) 17 Ralph Roy, The Boy Bucca- neer. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 1 Sindbad the Sailor. His seven voy- ages. From the Arabian Nights. 19 The Phantom Spy; or, THe Prior or THE Pratnie. By Buffalo Bill. 20 The Double Daggers; or, Drap- woop Dick’s DEFIANCE, By Edward L, Wheeler, author of ‘Deadwood Dick.’ 21 Frontier Angel. A Romance of Kentucky Rangers’ Life. By Edward 8. Ellis, author of ‘*Seth Jones,” ete. 22 The Sea Serpent: or, Tux Boy Roprnson Crusor. By Col. Juan Lewis. 23 Nick o’ the Nig! t: or, THE Boy Spy or '76. By 'T. C. Harbaugh. 24. Diamond Dirk: or, Tak Mystmry or tHe YevLowstone. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, author of “The Flying Yankee,” etc. 2 5 The Boy Captain: or, Tum Prrate’s Daveuter. By Roger Starbuck. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Demon. By Edward L. Wheeler 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. By Oll Coomes, 28 Buffalo Ben, the Prince of the Pistol: or. Deapwoop Dick 1N Disauise. By Edward L. Wheeler. 29 The Dumb Page; or, THE Doar’'s DaveuTur. By Capt. F. Whittaker. 3 Roaring Ralph Rockwood, Tux Reckiuss Ranaur. By Harry St. George. 31 Keen-Knife, THe Princk OF THE Prairies. By Oll Coomes. 32 Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian: or, THe Girt Deav-Suor, By Edward L. Wheeler, author of ‘ Deadwood Dick,” éte., etc. 33 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, THE Rep Prrates or THE Cartesrrs, By Samuel W. Pierce, author of ‘The Boy Detective,” etc., etc. 34 Oregon Sol; or, Nick Wutrries’ Boy Spy. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. 3 5 Wild Ivan, Tue Boy CLaupE Duvat; or, THE BrorHerHoop or DratH. Dead- wood Dick Romance No. 4. By Edward L. Wheeler. BG The Boy Clown; or, THe QUEEN oF gum AneNA. By Frank 8. Finn. beh The Hidden Lodge; or, Tux Lirris HunTER OF THE ADIRONDACKS. By 5,0, Harbaugh, author of “ Nick 0’ the Night,” etc. 38 Ned Wylde, Tux Bor Scour. By Texas Jack. 3Q Death-Face, the Detectives ov Lire anp Love in New York. By Ed- ward L, Wheeler. Every one of them “Live” Stories by *“‘ Live” Authors, a Complete Novel, at the extraordinary price of a HALF-DIME, 40 Roving Ben. A story of a Young American who wanted to see the world. By John J. Marshall. 41 Lasso Jack, THr Youne MustTanec- rR. By Oll Coomes. 42 The Phantom Miner: or, Drap- woop Dick’s Bonanza. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 43 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. By Capt. F. Whittaker. Rattling Rube: or, Tur Nicur- HAWKS OF 'TucKY, By Harry St. George. 45 Old Avalanche, the Great An- nihilator: or, THE Girt BRIGAND. By Edward L. Wheeler. 46 Glass Eye, the Great Shot ofthe West. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, 47 Wightingale Nat: ox, Tur Forest APTAINS. By T. 0. Harbaugh. 48 Black John, the Road Agent, or, Tom OvTLaw’s Retreat. By Jos. KE. Badger, Jr. 49 Omaha Oll, the Masked Terror, or, Dyapwoop Dick mv Danarr. By Ed- ward L, Wheeler. 50 Burt Bunker, Tor Trarrer. A Tale of the North-west Hunting-Grounds, By Charles E. Lasalle. 51 The seal Rifles, or, Tox Unpmr- Grounp Camp. By Archie O. Iron. 52 The White Buffalo. A Tale of Strange Adventure in the Northwest, By Charles E. Lasalle. 5 3 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., Tux Boy Prenrx; or, Turoves to THE DmatsH. By Edward L. Wheeler. 5 4 Ned Hazel, Tax Boy Trarpmr; or, THE PHANTOM Princuss, By Capt. J. F. 0, Adams, 5 5 Deadly-Eye, THz Unknown Scour; By Buffalo Bill. t 56 Nick Whiffles’ Pet, or, IN TH Vattry or Dearu, By Capt. J. F. ©. Adams, 57 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, Tue Parps or FLoop Bar. yy Edward L. Wheeler. Fs 5 & The Border King; or, Tam Sxcrur For. By Oll Coomes, 59 Old Hickory, or, Panpy ELus’s Scatp. By Harry St. George. 60 The White Indian; or, Tax Scour oF THE YELLOWSTONE. By Capt. J. F.C. Adams. 61 Buckhorn Bill, or, Taz Rep Ririe Team. By Edward L. Wheeler. 62 The Shadow Ship, or, THE Rrvau Ligvtrenants. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 63 The Red Brotherhood, or, Tun Twenve Avencers, By W. J. Iamilton. 64 Dandy Jack, or, THe OvTLAw oF THE / fib Tram. By T. C. Harbaugh. 6 5 Hurricane Bill, or, Mustana Sam anp wis “Parp.” By Jos. E. Badger, Jr 66 Single Hand, or, A Lirx ror « Lire. By W. J, Hamilton. 67 Patent-Leather Joe: or, OLD Rar- TLESNAKE, THE CHARMER. By Philip 8. Warne, author of ‘A Hard Crowd,” “Tiger Dick,” “ Always on Hand,” ete. 68 The Border Robin Hood; or, Tur Prarrm Rover. By Buffalo Bill. 69 Gold Rifle, THe Youne Swarp- sHooTER; or, THe Boy Derecrive or THE Briack Rancu, By Edward L. Wheeler, 70 Old Zip’s Cabin; or, Tar Gremn- HORN IN THE Woops. By Captain J. F, C. Adams. ~ 4 1 Delaware Dick; THz Youne Rana- ER Spy; or, Broramr AGatnst BRoTHER. By Oll Coomes. 12 Mad Tom Western, Tar Texan Ranger. By W. J. Hamilton. 7 3 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Cauamity JANE, THE HEROINE OF THE Wuoor-up, By Edward L. Wheeler, Hawk-eye Harry, Tue Youne 74 Teva Rancer. By Oll Coomes. wf 5 The Boy Duelist; or, Taz Croism or THs Sea Wotr, By Col, Prentiss In- graham, Each number 76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer; or, THE Great Fianrine MAN or Tan West. By Albert W. Aiken. ve 7 Corduroy Charlie, Tux Boy Bravo; or, Tae Last Act or Drapwoop Dick. By Edward L. Wheeler. 1 yo &§ Blue Dick; or, Tux YeLLow Carmr’s VENGEANCE. By Captain Mayne Reid. 79 Bol Ginger, THE GIANT TRAPPER; or, HE FLOWER oF Buackrrrer. B; Albert W, Aiken, oubres , 8&6 Rosebud Rob; or, Nuacxr Nzp, THE Kniaur or rue Guicw. By Edward L. Wheeler. §1 Lightning Jo, THe TERROR oF THE RAIRIE. A Tale of the Present Day. By Captain J. F. C, Adams. &§2 Kit Harefoot, THz Woop-Haws; or, Otp Powprr-Face anp His Demons, B: T. C, Harbaugh, J Rollo, the Bo Ranger or, THE 83 Hummus 8 OF ine Ghinan oo By oll mes, . 4 Idyl, the Girl Miner; or, Rosrsup 3 ON HAND. By Edward L. Wheeler, § 5 Buck Buckram: or, Brss, THE F'r- MaLe Trapper. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams 86 merry! Rock, T1n-Man-rrom-TEx- 4s. By G. Waldo Browne. &§ r 6 The Land Pirates: or, tHe LEacur or Drvii’s Istanp. By Capt. Mayne Reid. §8 Photograph Phil: or, Rosrsup Ros’s PEARANCE, By Eid, L. Wheeler. 89 Island Jim 3 Os ee OF THE ‘AMILY, race emyng, auth of “ Jack pa A etc. _ os , a 90 The Dread Rider: or, tor TExan Durust. By George W. Browne, 91 The Captain of the Club; or, Taz Youna RivaL Arnunres. By Bracebridge Hemyng, (Jack Harkaway.) 92 Canada Chet, tam CounTrERFEITER Cuier; or, Oud ANACONDA IN SITTING Buy's Camp. By Edward L. Wheeler. 9 3 The Boy Miners; or, Tur ENCHANTED Isuanp. By Edward 8. Ellis. 9 4 Midnight Jack, Tam Roap-Acenr; or, GoupeN Goran's Great Prizm, By T, O, Harbaugh. 9 5 The Rival Rovers: or, Tar Frux- BOOTERS OF THE Mississrppr, By Lieut, Col. Hazeltine. 96 Watch - Eye, Tae Detective; or, ARABS AND ANGELS o¥ 4 GREAT Crry, By Edward L. Wheeler. 9 The Outlaw Brothers: = TH Ls) Captive or tHe Harpers. By John J. Marshall. 98 Robin Hood, tax OvutLawep Earn. By Prof. Stewart Gildersleeve. 99 The Tiger of Taos: or, Wimp TH, Danpy Rook’ George W. Browne, nce 0 aad 10 Deadwood Dick in Leadville or, A Srraner STrRoKe ror By Edward L. Wheeler, Ready June 24th. 1 oO 1 Jack Harkaway in New York, or, Tom ADVENTURES OF THE TRAVEL- rns’ CLus. By Bracebridge Hemyng. Ready July 1. 102 Dick Dead-Eye, Tux Boy Smua- LER; or, THE CRUISE OF THE VIXEN. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Ready July 8th. 103 The Lion of the Sea; or, Tur VarLep Lapy or San Tropez, By Col. Delle Sara, Ready July 15th. 104 Dead wood ens Device, or, GN OF THE UBLE Edward L. Wheeler. Ready July 22d, ey, A new issue every week, . , The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street ‘New York.
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BEADLE'S $2 Large Three-Column Pages. 1.A Hard Crowd: or, Gentreman | Sam’s Sister. By Philip S. Warne. | 2. The Dare-Devil: or, THz WincEeD Witcu oF THE SEA. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 3. Kit Carson, Jr., THE Crack SHor or THE West. By Buckskin Sam. 4. The Kidnapper: or, THe Great SHANGHAI oF THE NorTHWwEsT. By Philip S. Warne. 5. The Fire-Fiends: or, HerRcuLEs, THE Houncanack. By A. P. Morris. 6. Wildeat Bob, Tur Boss. Broutszr: or, Tam Borper BLloopnounps. By Edward L. Whee- ler, autiior of ** Deadwood Dick,” “* Double Daggers.” 7. Death-Notch, THz Destroyer: on, Tae Sprrir Lake Avencers. By Oll Coomes. 8. The Headless Horseman. A strange story of Texas. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 9. Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. 10. Vidocq, THe Frencu Potice Spy. Written by himself. 11. Midshipman Easy. ryat. 12. The Death-Shot: or, TRACKED To Drirn. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 13. Pathaway : or, Nick WHIUrrLEs, THE pan Trapper OF THE NorTHWEST. By Dr. J. H. Rob- nson. 14. Thayendanegea, THE ScourcE; on, THe WAr-EAGLE oF THE MonAwks. By Ned Bunt- ine, author of ‘‘The White Wizard,” 15. The Tiger-Slayer: or, Eacte- Heap To THE Rescuz. By Gustave Aimard. 16. The White Wizard: or, Tuk Great PROPHET OF THE SEMINOLES. By Ned Buntline, 1%. Nightshade, Tux Rosser PRINCE or Hounstow Hrata. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 18. The Sea Bandit: or, THE QuEEN or THE Istx, By Ned Buntline. 19. Red Cedar, Tur Pram OvuTLAw. By Gustave Aimard, 20. The Bandit at Bay: or, THe Pi- RATES OF THE Prarries. . By Gustave Aimard, » 21. The Trapper’s Daughter: or, Tur Ottiaw’s Fare. By Gustave Aimard, 22. Whitelaw: or, Natrim or THE LAKE Snore. By Dr. J..H. Robinson, 23. The Red Warrior: or, STELLA De.Lorme’s ComancuEe Lover. By Ned Buntline, 24, Prairie Flower. By Gustave Ai- mard, author of “ Tiger-Slayer,” ete. 25. The Gold-Guide: or, Steet Arm, THe Recuuator. By Francis Johnson. 26. The Death-Track: or, THE OvT- LAWs OF THE Mountain. By Francis Johnson, By Capt. Mar- 27. The Spotter-Detective: or, THE By Albert W. Aiken. Grrts or New Yor«. KIT CARSON, JR.—NO, 3. 28. Three-Fingered Jack, Tur Roap- AGENT oF THE Rockies; or, THE Boy Miner or Harp Luck. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 29. Tiger Dick, Tux Faro Kina; or, Tue Casnier’s Crime. By Philip 8. Warne, author of “A Hard Crowd,” etc, 30. Gospel George; or, Frery FRep, Tue Ovrtaw. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 31. The New York Sharp 3? or, THE Fuass or Lignrnine, By Albert W. Aiken, 32. B’hoys of Yale; or, Tur Scrarrs or A Harp Ser or Conurarans. By John D. Vose. 33. Overland Kit. By Albert W. Aiken, 34. Rocky Mountain Rob. By Al- bert W. Aiken. 35. Kentuck, the Sport. By Albert W. Aiken. 36. Injun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. 37. Hirl, the Hunchback; or, Tur SWORDMAKER OF THE SANTEE. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 38. Velvet Hand; or, THE Iron Grip or Insun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. 39. The Russian Spy: or, Tar Broru- ERS oF THE STaRRY Cross, By Frederick Whittaker. 40. The Long Haired ‘ Pards;’ or, Tue TarTars of THE Piarns. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 41. Gold Dan: or, THe WuitE Savace or THE Great Sautr Lake. By Albert W. Aiken. 42. The California Detective: or, Tue WrircHes oF New Yors. By Albert W. Aiken. 43. Dakota Dan, Tur RECKLESS RANGER; or, THe Bee-Hunters Excursion. By Oll Coomes, 44, Old Dan Rackback, Tue Great Extarmrnator; or, THE Triancte’s Last Tram By Oll Coomes. 45. Old Bull’s Eye, Tae Licuryine Sor or THE Prams. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr., 46. Bowie-Knife Ben, Tur LittLz Hunter or THE Nor’-west. By Oll Coomes. 47. Pacific Pete, THE PRINCE OF THE Revotver. By Jos. E. Badger. 48. Idaho Tom, Ture Youne OuTLaw OF SILVERLAND. By Oll Coomes. 49. The Wolf Demon, or, THE QUEEN OF THE KANAWHA. By Albert W. Aiken. 50. Jack Rabbit, Tae Prarmim Sport; or, THe CHILDREN oF THE LLANO Estacapo. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 51, Red Rob, Tue Boy Roap-AGEnt. By Oll Coomes. 52. Death Trailer, Tue Curr oF Scouts; or, Life and Love in a Frontier Fort. By Hon. Wm. F. Cody, (Buffalo Bill.) 53, Silver Sam; or, THE Mystery or Deadwoop Crry, By Col. Delle Sara. 54. Always on Hand; or. THE Sportive Sport or tHe Foor Hiris. By Phillip 8S. Warne, author of ‘‘ A Hard Crowd,” “‘ Patent Leather Joe ” | Each Number Complete. Price 10 cts. 55. The Scalp Hunters. A Romancror THE PLains. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 56. The Indian Maseups; or, THE Map Man or THE Puarms. By ert W. Aiken, 57. The Silent Hunter ; or, Tae Scow. Hatt Mystery. By Percy B. St. John, 58. Silver Knife: or, WICKLIFFE, THE Rocky Mounrarmn Raneer. By Dr. J. H. Robinson, 59. The Man From Texas; or, THE OvuTLAW OF ARKANSAS, By Albert W. Aiken, 60. Wide Awake; or, Tur Ipior or THe Buack Hiiis. By Frank Dumont, 61. Captain Seawaif, THz PRIVATEER. | By Ned Buntline. 62. Loyal Heart; or, Taz TRAPPERS OF Arkansas. By Gustave Aimard. 63. The Winged Whale. W. Aiken. 64. Double- Sight, the Death Shot. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 65. The Red Rajah: or, Tur Scourcr or THE INDIES, By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 66. The Specter Barque. A Taiz or tHE Paciric. By Captain Mayne Reid. 67. The Boy Jockey: or, Honrsry VERSUS CROOKEDNESS. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 68. The Fighting Trapper: or, Kir Carson TO THE Rescug, By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. 69. The Irish Captain: A Tate or Fontrenoy. By Captain Frederick Whittaker, 70. Hydrabad, Tue STRANGLER; or, ALETHE, THE CHILD©OF THE Corp. By Dr. TH Robinson, 71. Captain Cool Blade, or, Tam Man- SHARK OF THE MississipPI. By Jos, E, Badger, Jr. Ready July 3d. 72. The Phantom Hand. A Srory or New York Heartus anp Homes. By Albert W. Aiken, Ready July 17th. 73. The Knight of the Red Cross; or, THE MaaictAN oF Granapa. A Tale of the Al- hambra, By Dr. J. H. Robinson, Ready July 31st. 74. Captain of the Rifles. A Romancr oF THE Mexican VatuEy. By Captain Mayne Reid, Ready August 14th, By Albert A new issue every week. Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of twelve cents each, BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. MIDSHIPMAN EASY.—No, 11.
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Beadle & Adams’ Standard Speakers. Brapie AND ApAms have now on their lists the fol- towing highly desirable and attractive text-books, prepared orneedy for schools, families, etc. Each volume contains 100 large pages, printed from clear, open type, comprising the best collection of Dia- logues, Dramas and citations, (burlesque, comic and otherwise.) The Dime Speakers for the season of 1879—as far as now issued—embrace twenty-one volumes, viz. 1. American Speaker. 12, Exhibition Speaker. 2. National Speaker. 13. School Speaker, 8. Patriotic Speaker. 14, Ludicrous Speaker. 4. Comic Speaker. 15. Komikal Speaker. 5. Elocutionist. 16, Youth’s Speaker. 6. Humorous Speaker. 17, Eloquent Speaker. 7. Standard Speaker. 18, Hail Columbia Speak- 8, Stump Speaker. er. 9, Juvenile Speaker. 19. Serio-Comie Speaker. 10. Spread-Eagle Speaker | 20. Select Speaker. 11. Dime Debater. 21. Funny Speaker. These books are replete with choice pieces for the School-room, the Exhibition, for Homes, ete. They are drawn from FRESH sources, and contain some of the choicest oratory of the times, 75 to 100 Declama- tions and Recitations in each book. Dialogues. Dialogues No. One. . Thirteen: Dialogues No. Two. Dialogues No. Fourteen. Dialogues No. Three. Dialogues No. Fifteen. Dialogues No. Four. Dialogues No, Sixteen. Dialogues No. Five. Dialogues No. Seventeen. Dialogues No. Six. Dialogues No. Eighteen Dialogues No, Seven. Dialogues No, Nineteen, ialogues No. Right. Dialogues No. Twenty. Dialogues No. Nine. Dialogues No. Twenty-one. Dialogues No. Ten. Dialogues No. Twenty-two. Dialogues No. Eleven. ye No. Twenty-three Dialogues No. Twelve. Just published. 15 to 25 Dialogues and Dramas in each book. These volumes have been prepared with especial reference to their availability in all school-rooms, They are adapted to schools with or without the fur- niture of a stage, and introduce a range of charac- ters suited to scholars of every grade, both male and female. It is fair to assume, that no volumes _ et offered to schools, at any price, contain so maay available and useful dialogues and dramas, sericus and comic. A NEW BOOK OF POPULAR Dramas and Readings. 164 12mo Pages. 20 Cents. For Schools, Parlors, Entertainments and the Am- ateur Stage, compris! ng Original Minor Dramas, Comedy, Farce, Dress Pieces, Humorous Dialogue And Burlesque, by noted writers; and Recitations and Readings, new and standard, of the grestest celebrity »nd interest. Edited by Prof, A, M. Russell. DIME HAND-BOOKS. Young People’s Series. Beapir’s Dime Hanp-Booxs ror YOUNG PEOPLE cover a wide range of subjects, and are especially adapted to their end. They constitute at once the cheapest and most useful works yet put into the market for popular circulation. Ladies’ Letter-Writer. Book of Games. Gents’ Letter-Writer. Fortune-Teller Book of Etiquette, Lovers’ Casket. ok of Verses. Ball-room Companion. Book of Dreams. Book of Beauty. Hand-Books of Games. Brapie’s Dawe Hanp-Booxs or GAMES AND POPULAR Hanp-Booxs cover a variety of subjects, and are es- pecially adapted to their end. Book of Croquet. Yachting and Rowing. Chess Instructor. Riding and Drivii Cricket and Football. Book of Pedestriantism, Guide to Swimming. Manuals for Housewives. Beapie’s Die Famity Serres aims to supply & class of text-books and manuals fitted for every per- son's use—the old and the young, the learned and the unlearned. They are of conceded value. 1. Cook Book. 4. Family Physician. 2. e Book. 5. Dressmaking and Mil- 8. Housekeeper’s Guide. linery, Lives of Great Americans, Are presented complete and authentic biographies of sh of the ies who have added luster o the Repub ic by their lives and deeds. The series em- races: I.—George Washington. | _VII.--David Crockett, T.—John Paul Jones. | VIII.—Israel Putnam, {il,—Mad AnthonyWayne}| IX.—Kit Carson. V.—Bthan Allen. oe te iG -~Marquis de Lafay- .—Abraham Linco! 4 “ XII.—Pontiac. ette. VI.—Daniel Boone. The above publications for sale‘by all newsdealers, or will be sent. post-paid, on receipt of price, by BEADLE & ADAMS, 08 Wruuam Sr., N, Y, DIME NOVELS. Incomparable in Merit. Unapproachable tn Price. 2" Be very careful not to confound these books with those other publishers, sold at the same rice. The vast success of the Dime Novels called into existence “Ten Cent Novels,” which the public is sometimes deceived in buying as Dime Novels. The only Dime Novels are those published b 7 BEADLE Aanp ApAms, whose copyright trade-mark and signet the word “‘ Dime” Novel is. Ask always for BrapLe’s Dime Novels, and you will then get what you wish. The followin published, . The Privateer’sCruise | 219. umbers omitted are out of print. The Scioto Scouts, 8. Myra. 221. The Blue Cli per. e Slave Sculptor. | 224. The Mohave Raptive. . The Backwoods Bride . The Forest Princess, comprises a complete list as far as | 2 3 9. 10. 11. Prisoner La Vintresse | 228, The Mute Chief. 14. Emerald Necklace. 232. The Prairie Queen. 16. Uncle Ezekiel. 234. The Forest Specter. 17. Madge Wilde. 287. The Plymouth Scout, 22. The Maid of Esopus. | 239, Old Zip. 23. Winifred Winthrop. | 240. Swiftwing. 24, The Trail Hunters. 241. Mink Coat, 25. The Peon Prince, 22, Graybeard. 80. Put. Pomfret’s Ward. | 243. The Black Princess. 31. Double Hero, 244, Keetsea, 32. Irona, 246, The White Apache. 33, Maum Guinea. 20c. | 250, The Border Renegade 34. Ruth Margerie. 256. Antelope Abe. 85. East_and West. 258. The White Brave. 36. The Riflemen of the | 263, The Bordor Huntress Miami. 264. Mountain Kate. 38. The Wrong Man, 268, The Specter Riders. 39. The Land Claim. 281. The Black Spy. 40. Union’s Daughter.20c | 282. Ruby Roland. 42. The King’s Man. 283. The Lone Chief. 44, es Falkland. 264. The Young Spy. 46. Wreck of the Albion. | 289. The Balloon Sooute, 47. Tim Bumble’s Charge | 292. Black John. 51. The Two Guards, 293. The Tonkawa Spy. 53, Hates aud Loves, 294. The Rival Rovers. 54, Myrtle. 298. ‘he Hussar Captain. 56. Ahmo’s Plot, 299. Mossfoot, the Brave, 60, Jo Daviess’ Client. 301. Mustang Sam, 61. Langhing Eyes. 302, Cuban Conspirators, 62, The Unknown, 806. Caribou Zip, 63. The Indian Princess. | 308. Glass Eye. 64. Rangers of Mohawk. | 310. Foghorn Phil. 65. The Wrecker’s Prize, | 812. Dick Darling, 68. The Brigantine. 313. The Red Brotherhood 69. Black Hollow. 314. Rival Lieutenants, 70. The Indian Queen, 316. Hurricane Bill. 72. The Moose Hunter. 317. Tippy, the Texan. 73. The Silver Bugle. 319. The Pear! Pirates. 74, Cruiserof Chesapeake | 320. The Child Spy. 77. Quindaro. $22, Old Grizzly. 81. The Two Hunters. 32? The Dashing Dra- 84. The Seminole Chief. Pe aa 85. The Fugitives, 3%. Will-o’-the-Wisp, 86. Red Plume. 325. Dashing Dick. 87. On the Deep. 826, Old Crossfire. 88. Captain Molly. 327, Ber Bramble, 90, Gast Away. 328. The Brigand Captain 91. The Lost Cache. 829, Old Strategy. 93, The Creole Sisters. 830. Gray Hair, the Chief, 95. Eph Peters. 331. The Prairie Tigers, 96. Little Moccasin. 832, The Rival Hunters. 97. The Doomed Hunter. | 333. The Texan Scout. 98. Ruth Harland. 834. Zebra Zack. 100. Karaibo. 535. The Masked Messen- 101. Maid of Wyoming. ger. 102. Hearts Forever. 836. Morgan, the Pirate. 104. Guilty or Not Guilty, | 337. The Boy Spy 106, Simple Phil. 338. Tahle, the Trailer, 107. The Peddler Spy. 339. The Buy Chief. 109. ep 840. Tim, the Trailer. 110, The Hidden Home. | 341. Red Ax. 113. Rattlepate. 342. Stella, the Spy. 114, Ned ee on 843, The White Avenger. 115. The Sons of Liberty. | 344. The Indian King. 116. Port at Last, 845, The Long Trail. 117. The Mohegan Maiden | 346. Kirk, the Guide. 118. The Water if. 347, The Phantom Trail. 119. The Five Champions. | 348, The Apache Guide. 121. Vailed Benefactress, | 349. The Mad Miner. 122. Barden, the Ranger. | 850, Keen Eye, the Ranger 123. The Missing Bride, 351. Blue Belt, Guide. 12%. Sumter’s Scouts. 852. On the Trail. 125. The Hunted Life. . The Specter Spy. 127. Bald Eagle. 3854. Old Bald Head. 128, The Gulch Miners, 855. Red Knife, Chief. 129, Blackeyes. 856. Sib Cone, Trapper. 132, Old Honesty. 357. The Bear Hunter. 133, Yankee Eph. 358. Bashful Bill, Spy. 135. The Cherokee Chief. | 359. The White Chief. 137. The Traitor Spy. 860. Cortina, Scourge. 139. The Border Foes. 361. The Squaw Spy. 142. The Sagamore of | 362. Scout of 76. Saco, 353. Spanish Jack. 147. The Maid of the | 364. Masked Spy. Mountain. 365. Kirke, Renegade. 154. Rob Ruskin. 366. Dingle, the Outlaw. 159. Snowbird. 867. The Green Ranger. 165, The Unseen Hand. | 868. Montbars, Scourge. 169, The White Canoe, 369. Metamora. 176, The Trader Spy. 870. Thornpath, Trailer. 180, Giant Pete, ot. | 871. Foul-weather Jack. 208, Masked Guide. 872. The Black Rider. 205. The Gray Scalp. 873. The Helpless Hand. 207. The Buffalo Trapper. | 374. The Lake rs. 212. Silyer Spur, 275, Alone on the 213. Squatter Dick. 376. Phantom Horseman. 214. The Forest Monster. | 377, Winona, 215, The White Hermit. ‘378. Silent Shot, Slayer, ‘Dime Publications. 879. The Phantom Ship. | 407. Blue Clipper, 880, The Red Rider. 408. Red Dan. 381. The Grizzly-Hunters. | 409. The Fire-Eater, 382. The Mad = ame 410, Blackhawk. 383. The Specter Skipper. | 411. The Lost Ship. 834, The Red Coyote. 412. Black Arrow, 885. The Hunchback, 413, White Serpent. 386, The Black Wizard. 414. The Lost Captain, 387. The Mad Horseman | 415, The Twin Trailers, 888. The Privateer’s Bride | 416. Death’s-head Raw 889, The Jaguar Queen. ger. 390, Shadow Jack. 417. Captain of Captaing 391. Eagle Plume. 418. Warrior Princess. 392. The Dcean Outlaw, 419. The Blue Band. 893, Red Slayer. 420. The Squaw Chief, 394, The Phantom Foe. 421. The Fiying Scout, 395, The Blue Anchor, 422, Sonora Ben. 896, Red-Skin’s Pledge. 423, The Sea — Q 397. The oe Spy. | 424. Mountain Gi 398, The Black Rover. 425, Death Trailer. 399. Red-Belt, the Tusca- | 426. The Crested Ser rora. pent, 400, The Two Trails. 427. Arkansas Kit. 401, The Ice Fiend. 428. The Corsair Prince. 402. The Red Prince. 429, Ethan Allen's Rifles, 403. The First Trail. 430, Little Thunderbolt, 404. Sheet-Anchor Tom, | 431. The Falcon Rover, 405, Old Avoirdupois, 482. Honest Hand, Guide, 406. White Gladiator. 433, The Stone Chief, rivaling in effect SERSSSSSSHELE SSSRASHESRESSRSSHESRSSSRENER the onl: found in MISCELLANEOUS DIME BOOKS, Robinson Crusoe. Pocket —— THE ILLUMINATED DIME . Hawkeye Hi ° . Dead Shot. sri . Blue Dick. . Nat Wolfe. . The Ontlaw's Wife. 1 2. 4 5. e The White Tracker, > The Tall Trapper. . Lightning Jo. 10, The Island Pirate. . The Boy Ranger. 12, Bess, the Trapper. 13. The French ie 14. Long Shot. 15. Gunmaker of Border. 16. Red Hand. 17. Ben, the Trapper. 18. Wild Raven, 7 he 19. ‘The Specter Chief. 20. The ar-Killer, . Wild Nat. Ps Indian Jo, the Guide, . Old Kent, the Ranger, 24. The One-Eyed Trap- per, adabold, the Spy. The Black Ship, 65. S882 82 BE BR & S828 SONG BOOKS. BEADLE’s Dre Sona Books, Nos. 1 to containing ot Copy Hgts sone te be market, beg ld collection Jake Baok, POCKET NOVELS. Comprising the best works only of the most populay living writers in the field of American thse Each issue a tg aege novel, with illuminated cover, ne popular chromo, . The Yellow Hunter, . The Phantom Rider, . Delaware Tom. Silver Rifle. The Skeleton Scout, . Little Rifle. . The Wood Witch. . Old Ruff, the Tra: per. . The Scarlet Showk Ts . The Border Rifleman, . Outlaw Jack, . bis i Tail, the Semb nole, . Death Dealer, Shawnee Scourge. een, The Honter Hercules, Single Eye. Phil Hunter, the Bo \ Indian am. mayer. ‘ 4 The Scout Indian Seout. Eagle Eye. The Girl Av r. The Mystic Canoe. The Red Hermitess. The Golden Harpoon, Star-Face, the Slayer, The Scalp King. 92, The Antelope Boy. SAS en mange | Sk Poa ene . Rainbolt, the Ts . Tom Pint 6 Pilot The Boy Pioneer, 95, The Red Wises Carson, the Guide, 96. The Rival Trappers, . The Heart-Eater. 97. The Squaw Spy. . Wetzel, the Scout, 98, Dusky Di Ae . The Huge Hunter. 99, Colonel kett. . Wild Nat, the Trapper | 100, Old Bear Paw . EO eg tie 101, Redlaw. . i e ~ rae Caney: cin i Rube. . The Dog Trailer. . The Indian Hun . The Elk ena 104. Scarred le. ne . Adrian, the Pilot. 105. Nick Doyle, . The Man-hunter. 106. The Indian Spy. . The Phantom Tracke™ | 107, Job Dean, . ern ans 108. The Wood 4 . The Wolf Queen. 109. The Scalped Hunter . 5 Hawk, the Trail ey Nick, the Scout, r. . The Texas Tiger. The Mad Chief. 112, The Crossed ives, The Black Wolf, 118. Tiger Heart, Tracker Arkansas Jack, 114. The Av Blackbeard, 115. The Pear! Pirates. fe ad 3 Rifles, as — es ee unter Ham. 1%, Al the Avenges, Cloudwood, 118 corte Creeper, The Texas Hawks. 119, Two-Handed Merciless Mat, 120, Trail Hunter, Mad Antheny’s Scouts | 121. Black N: The Luckless par 122. Kit Bird. The Florida Scout. 123, The Specter Riders, The Island Trapper. in Press. Jim Crow Joke Book. Paddy Whack Joke Book
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Dime Library No. 71 TO BE ISSUED THURSDAY, JULY 30TH. IS A GREAT STORY—ONE OF THE MOST STUNNING, STARTLING AND STRANGE OF ALL THE BOOKS OR LIBRARIES FOR A YEAR, VIZ.: CAPTAIN COOL BLADE, Lae MA WN SHA Rik OF |... ELE: MIissiS.s I Deke The Curse of Bad Blood. A ROMANCE OF THE GREAT RIVER. By JOSEPH E. BADCER, Jr. Author of Cospel Ceorge; Three-Fingered Jack; Pacific Pete’; Long-Halred Pards; Double Sight; Boy Jockey, Etc., Etc. Life on and along the great River, in the “Flush Times,” when it was the great traveled highway of the Continent—its steamers the finest and fastest in the world—its gamblers and adventurers the most daring and numerous—its plan- ters, traders and speculators the most improvident and reckless—this exciting, turbulent, ever-changing life never had a more telling “setting.” Every chapter is an episode, characteristic and novel, and every character one to be found no where else in the world. We have:— CAPTAIN COOL BLADE, the Incomparable Sharp and Sport— SPRING STEEL, the Young Duelist and Adventurer in Disguise— BIG JIM ADAMS, the Honest Old Alligator Hunter— COLBY, the Autocrat of the Landing and Wood Yard— PERCY TALFOURD, the Gentleman Planter and “Blood”— JULES BEAUFORT, the “Man of Honor” and Means, and numerous others—river captains, planters, adventurers, members in secret of the dare-devil league, &c., &c., while the woman element is singularly and equally novel in the persons of MARIE BEAUFORT, the Aristocratic Heiress of the Estates— DORINDA COLBY, the Belle of the Landing— who are centres of a special interest for what they are to the reckless, headstrong men of the drama. IT IS THE ROMANCE OF THE YEAR; al} lovers of stories of Western Life will give it an eager welcome and vote it Second to no Story they Ever Read! It will be sold by all News Dealers: or: sent post paid, to any address, on receipt of price, TEN CENTS. BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 WILLIAM STREET, New York.