Waverley Library (Quarto Edition) (no. 188) (1883 06 19)
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¢ ¢ - he « Va \ Hi —— + he Fe, Tee i“ ecapest and West Library! : 4 BS tke 1 | | ee ie of. American and Poreign ‘Novels for Five Cents! CoE RERUN SS ‘ sf AND ADAMS. June 19, 1883, No 188. {AH rights of dramatization reserved.] FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET; OR, A PEARL BEYOND PRICE. A Metropolitan Romance of More Truth Than Fiction. ‘ BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM, AUTHOR OF ‘*MOTHERLESS,” ‘‘ WITHOUT A HEART,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I. “THEY MET BY CHANCE.” IN a cool and shady nook, in a pleasant grove Of maples, a young man reclined upon a mossy ank reading a novel, and lazily puffing iuto | be air the smoke from a fragrant cigar. oa. ee eres my i | “UNLESS YOU SWEAR, UPON YOUR HONOR AS A WOMAN, TO MARRY-ME, I PRICE, 5 CENTS: PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, 98 WILLIAM ST., N. Y. He was attired in a stylish-made corduroy hunting-suit, wore top-boots, a broad som- brero, and by his side lay his game-bag and shot- un, * To the right of the pleasent retreat he had in- vaded ran the limpid waters of the Housatonic river, winding through a lovely valley, dotted with farm-bouses, and sweeping around the base of the Lover’s Leap, a romantic cliff, a mile below him, and whose Indian legend of a century:ago has gone into song and story. Upon the left, some thirty paces distant from where he lay, ran a path following the banks of the river from the town of New Milford te the homes down the valley. Ever and anon he would raise his eyes from the page before him,.and turn them upon the picturesque scene that met. his gaze, with the silvery stream, crossed here and there by a covered bridge, the mountains upon one hand, the rolling hills upon the other; the home-dot- ted vale and the village nestling away in a quiet corner, as though to hide from the rude | the young man distinctly heard: | coming of the locomotive which had penetrated its solitudes with its iron pathway. As he thus turned to admire the landscape; half in shadow, half in brightness, as the sun neared its western home, the face of the young man could be distinctly seen, and every feature read by one skilled in reading human nature. And very few would gaze upon him and not call him a very handsome man, while in his dark eyes dwelt a fascination dangerous to 4 woman who gazed too long into them; but to one who, while admiring his perfectly-chiseled features and splendid physique, looked for the soul beyond that face, there were visible faults of character a true heart would not possess, and which marred his beauty, for it was lacking in purity, and bore traces of reckless dissipa- tion, C Again he lowered his book, but not to gaze up- on the scenery, for voices caught his ear, and the next instant two men appeared in sight and halted near, while one remarked in tones that ~
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” 1’ ’a* rather tapped the house to-night her. for then we could hev got away Gndor ote ther dark; but I don’t like this waylayin’ a gal on the highway in broad daylight.’ aed ot From his position the young hunter could see ‘the two men through the foliage, while, lying ‘upon the ground as he was, they had not ob- served him, and, all attention after what he had heard, he listened eagerly for theeanswer of the other man. “This hain’t ther highway, Dick, for it runs ‘ “over yonder close under ther hills; this are a ee private path that the gal allus goes to town by, he -and ches can see bt at ig on.” i “Yh ou is certain she got the mon Bin y g ey, ) fe bh Vas, + ‘Office, and then heerd her tell the agent.she was hae geet to make a visit afore she went home, so I | 00 { for I- seen her git it out ther express- ad you up at once, and here we'll take her * “T hope so, for 1 is tired o’ rusticatin’ u é ‘here in Connecticut; we has been here nig y three months.” : **Yas, but it’s pleasanter than spendin’ ten Bara ol yedrs in Sing Sing, as we’d have done, ef we Bact. adn’t lighted out arter our last lift, which eee scared that old woman to death, and perhaps * would have had us tried for murder.” **Tt were a bad business, pard; but the money en this gal has got will take us back to the city: [zi we'll go in disguise and look around for another . | job. How much did you say she had?” eed *T seen either a three or a eight, and two ci- vhers on the back, I couldn’t tell adzactly which, but I guesses it’s three hundred she’s got, ws when I was chinnin’ the ole woman at her hs rotta Yother day, and tellin’ her I was a Say >i reacher, she told me the gal got a few hundred LA ee ollars every year, sent to her ever since she -_ gaved.a boy from the academy from drowning - in Lover’s Leap Basin.” “JT wish I c’u’d save a boy from drownin’, or ve a gal either, and some durned fool o’ a daddy mA) would send me money; guess I’d live honest, ef aia ib was enough to support me; but yonder comes Ba 1 the gal with her chink, and she’s likely-lookin’, aay too. “She are a screamer for beauty, and would make ther swells on Broadway stare, I tell you. Now Vll clap my paw over her mouth while ou tie her hands; then we’ll gag her and let er go. ** And ef she squeals?” “Don’t you use that ugly knife o’ yourn; | durn yer, you hain’t got no conscience; but ef -, she gives us too much trouble, PU jam her ‘, . head for her, and. then we’ll skip.” Lise The object of this pair of worthies’ attentions ,» was coming along the path, at a brisk, light Beet step, wholly ep, fae danger, and clasping ‘in | her tiny gloved hand an express package, to _ get which had taken her to the village, two _ miles from her home, an errand which she _ + went on each year, ever since when, only four- —.. * teen, she had risked her own life to save a boy 3 ee from drowning, and whose grateful parent had z: - settled upon her the modest income of three ae pcre ge Re ey i f me look upon the young girl, and a person : would be surprised to Mee mich rare loveliness ea of face and form in an humble country lass, while in walk and manner sbe was most queen- ', Iy, though she certainly could not have passed myer _ her seventeenth year. bas Though ay, dressed in cambric, and sun- _. + hat, everything she wore suited her perfectly, _ even to her well-fitting gloves, and had been se- letted with exquisite taste for one away from the fashionable life of cities. With large, lustrous black eyes, and long, Sweeping lashes, and arched brows of ebony hue, and lily complexion, she yet had entwined ‘around her haughty head masses of red-gold . hair, that shone in the sunlight like golden » threads, and presented a striking and hd ’ . beautiful contrast to the brilliant orbs in whic _/- — there shone so much of passion and power. '\ A few more steps and she had entered the maple grove, and, with the agile spring of cats, the two villains were upon her, one to fall to _ the ground beneath a terrible blow in the face, ‘and the other to feel the muzzle of a double- barrel shot-gun against his head, tes a) “avleiiegd sudden the rescue, that the maiden had es rdly had time to realize her danger, before she saw that it wasover, and she turned her pale face and splendid, startled eyes upon her preserver, ‘who ‘ore she could utter a word, said: Bring me my game-bag, please—it lies yon- der—and I will tie these two gentlemen from metropolis.” '9 Without a word she obeyed, and quickly re- tore | _ moved the straps from the bag and handed . sy ) - ; La ay ‘4 aM sate ; ah 4 ; : : * Neg er ote EPO ie Rr 9, Stem Onstage ia a j So sudden had been the attack, and so unex- |’ _FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET, _ them to him, the men, in the meantime, kept cowed by the fear of the gun, and one crouch- ing down where he had fallen, the other trem- bling with disgust, rage and despair. * Now, take my sun, please, and if that fel- low moves let him have its contents,” was the somewhat cool request of the young hunter; but the maiden took it pee and in a man- ner that showed she not only knew how to use it, but would do so, did occasion offer, while the young man, with astrength that surprised his fair companion, as well as the recipients of his attentions, hurled the standing footpad to the ground, and, withskill and dispatch, bound se- curely his hands behind his back, after which he likewise secured the other, who remarked, sullenly: “T say, cove, let up on a feller; we was only tryin’ to skeer the miss.” “You are a liar, as well asa thief, for I lay ie el and heard your whole plot to rob her of er express package, and perhaps kill her did she give you trouble,” “Weis poor, an’ you is rich; thet makes the diffrence which is the thieves,” remarked the other ruffian, as if in excuse for his crime. “You need not plead your case to me, for I shall turn you over to the constable, and send you to the New York Chief of Police, who will, doubtless, recognize you as old offenders; thank you, miss, and if you'll give me my gun, I will escort these gentlemen into town; or, if you are afraid to continue on alone, I will, if you go to the village with me, accompany you back, with pleasure.” Perhaps it would have been more proper for the maiden to have gone on home alone, for there was little fear of there being a second danger awaiting her; but she glanced into the face of her preserver, and with the sudden im- pulse of her nature decided, saying, in her full, rich tones: “T will go with you, for I wish mother to thank you for all you have done for me,” The young man seemed ek at her de- cision, for already had he felt the power of her eyes, and he motioned to the prisoners to march, which they did, sullenly, one remarking: ‘¢ Bill, this is gettin’ interestiner; these two is goin’ to git spoony on each other.” ‘* Yas, catchin’ us, is makin’ a story paper ro- mance for these honeys, and we'll be heroes.” ‘You'll be carried into town with broken heads, if you do not keep silent,” said their cap- tor, sternly, and the maiden’s face that had whitened with fear, now turned crimson at the as seg ro of the footpads. Thus met Burton Prince and Helen Boyd. And from that day their friendship began—a friendship that caused each one to clasp their hands, when in the far future they looked back upon the past, and utter, in agony of spirit, the fateful cry: ‘* Would to God we had never met!” CHAPTER II, : THE POOR STUDENT. “An me! Iam pressed hard against the wall of adversity now. The speaker was a young man in his twenty- first year, with a pale, intelectual, and hand- some face, expressive of firmness and manliness of character one would hardly expect to find in a person of his oe is suit was threadbare, but clean, and his whole appearance indicative of one who had a hard struggle with the world, for his room was comfortless; a cot-bed, chair or two, and table comprised its furniture, and his slender ward- robe was contained in an antiquated trunk. And yet, Carl Brandt, student at Valley View Academy, was one of the most popular pupils in that classic abode of learning, for he always had a kindly word for the younger pupils, aided this own class in their studies, and in athletic sports had but one equal, Burton Prince, the handsome, dissipated son of a millionaire banker of New York. The son of a poor clergyman in Delaware whose charge paid him a bare pittance, Car: Brandt had, to attend the Valley View Acad- emy, where he was entered upon easy terms, tramped all the way there, to save the railroad enses with which to fit up his room. om time to time his father had sent him what money he could, and yet a week before the time he was to graduate, a letter came with no ‘remittance, and a regret that not another, dollar could be given, as the miserable salary upon which the minister supported his family, had been cut down by the parishioners, who, on account of the hard times, began to economize in their own home-circles by robbing their cler- gyman of his just dues. \ It was the reception of this letter that caused ete : : “ayo Pu A Seay c t 1 > wf “ bh r ° nes 6 xi ti Ted Vaan Dan Tata ties ry, Carl Brandt to utter the words that opén thi pter. ‘And what shall I do?” he continued, after moment of painful silence. q ““T/ owe here, for tuition, bouks, the tailor and the shoemaker, about forty dollars, yes, forty- one dollars and sixty cents, and what I have im this room will bring about five, while I have one dollar and a half in my pocket; oh! what shall I do?” He bent his head in his hands. and leant upon the window-sill, uncaring now for the magnifi- cent landscape spread out before his vision, and which he had admired so often before, while poring over his studies. A knock at the door aroused him, and the steward entered, a bundle of papersin his hand. “Sorry to trouble you, Mr. Brandt, but ’m collecting board-bills, and the president asked me to hand in this little balance on tuition and books.” Carl Brandt took the three bills mechanically, and said, faintly: “T will see to them, Herndon.” “Oh, I know that, sir, for if you are poor, there is no man at the academy whose credit is better; guess you'll get calls from Roberts and — Weil, sir, for they are around collecting,” and — the cae ag disappeared, while the student oaned: ‘““The tailor and bootmaker! oh poverty, thow art a curse almost equaling crime. Come in! It was the bootmaker, Weil, and over his shoulder peered the cunning visage of Roberts, the tailor. Their accounts had been some time due, Carl depending upon the remittance expected from his father to pay them, and his face they intui- tively read, as expressing his inability to do 80. “Mr. Brandt, I have called with my bill,” said Pere tailor. sus ‘And av you blease pay mine pill, too,” chimed in thie amin ahs e ot ‘ ‘*Gentlemen, I hope to pay all that I owe, but 1 was disappointed to-day in my money — matters, and will have to ask you to wait a lit- tle while.” ‘Nein, -minute.’ “Nor can I wait; if you do not pay my bill now, I will seize your things.” “Vell, dat vill leave me not’ings, so L vili have t’e law mit you.” ‘It is best so, Weil, or he will give us the slip; these students are tricky fellows,” insult- ingly paid the tailor, es, they ish very sly, and I wants my monish,” Carl Brandt’s naturally pale face was now ghastly and his lips firm set, for he was in de- spair, for, havin; na very small dealer with the two men, as his purse would not allow him to get more than necessaries, he knew théy wid press him harder for the little he did owe. As he stood in painful silence, gazing from the window, his eye suddenly fell upon the ele- gant form of Burton Prince, swinging in a ham- mine frint, I doesn’t pe wait a mock in the yard below. ‘‘ He has an income of thousands; would he not lend mea few dollars?’ he murmured, and then added: ‘‘T fear he may not have it, as it is said he squanders everything on that ee girl rumor says he has insnared; but I will ask him.” ing he said to the two creditors, who were excitedly talking together, as though the few dollars Carl Brandt owed them would cause — their financial ruin if they did not get them: ‘*T will soon return; wait for me.” ‘You are not going to give us the grand bounce, hey, young feller?” __ ‘‘ Ish he going to skip mit himself?” Carl Brandt turned upon the two insulters with flashing eyes and clenched fist, and they — recoiled from before his just indignation and he left the.room'very pale; but, as he approached the hammock, his face flushed, for he was not & man to ask favors, and had always been inde- ndent, from the time when he went to sea be- ore the mast when but twelve, to aid the ex- penses at home, but five hee after returned, to see his mother die, and, with what little he had saved up, went to college to get an educa- sat to suit the aristocratic ideas of his fa~ — er, ; “Burton,” he said, in an embarrassed way; — *T havo a great favor to ask of you.” . “ All right, Carl; how can I serve you?’ said — Burton Prince, the hero of the footpad adven- ture six months before. _ - aie . “I have just received a letter from ey a ther, and he writes that his parishioners ha
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x _ there’ sh eh a ae and that is down at the Lover’s telling him eS ed ‘ee DR ie” fe BO OT ee Te “ee oy pe t ¥.+% tw Aes. oe : gh ae rc down his salary, and that he cannot “Don’t mention it, Brandt, but tell me how ea money do you want?” said Burton, pleas- “Fifty dollars,” and the, to Carl Brandt, rmous sum nearly choked him as he uttered © amount. “Phew! you are modest; I thought it would four times that sum; but you should have had it, though I am short now myself, as I’ve been Spending too much upon that little beaut People are making such a fuss about, as thoug ‘She didn’t know what she was doing, or I either. ita hundred, Carl, for I have no smaller dill,” and the young heir to a million drew out Sroll of bills that fairly dazzled the poor stu- ent’s eyes. “T can arrange with fifty, thank you, Bur- oS ty your kindness I will repay, but never et. Pak the hundred, for it may come in use- ful before you get work, and if you never re- Pay it, I will not feel it; here, I am glad to Serve you,” “T will hand Ag back the change, for I do Not wish to shoulder too large a debt of money, 4S well as gratitude. Ah, Burton, you have Made me a happy man,” and the poor student urned away, and in five minutes more he had aid the steward, and with his roll of bills in is hand, ascended to his room. is creditors were waiting, their humor the Worse for the delay; but when they saw the Money their faces lighted up, and the tailor Said in a sycophantic manner: “Iam sorry we are going to lose you, Mr. Ves, ish i "add es, you very nice young mans,’ add- ed Wait y! a very young p “TI wish no compliments from such, heartless Wretches as you have shown yourselves to be; What is your bill, Roberts?” here was no mistaking Carl Brandt’s look and manner, and the tailor said quickly: “Seven dollars, sir.” “Receipt it; here is your money, and, Weil, what do I owe you?” ‘“‘ There vas one pair boots, and—” “The whole amount, sir, for I am losing my Patience,” “Yes, it ish nine tollars, my dear.” ‘* Receipt this bill; there is your money, and th of you get out of that door, if you “A not Wish to take a shorter route out the window.” The haste with which the two men obeyed rought a smile to the face of the student, and he again took a seat by the window, and mused: ““Generous-hearted Burton Prince, he shall €ver hold a warm placé in my memory, be his faults and his fol] what they may, and I ow that he is wild and dissipated; but I Bape Rot as bad as rumor would make him, in ope : ing of his conduct toward pretty Helen Boyd. hey in!” he called out, as a knock came upon oor, A student entered, and in his hand he held a letter, bordered with black, while he said, dly; wh Seo no bad news, Carl.” With a trembling hand and white face Carl Tandt broke the seal, and read a few lines, and €n said in hoarse tones: f at yes, the worst of news; my father is His fellow-student d his hand in sym- pathy and silently fort Mie room, and Carl randt was alone with his grief, After a while he read the letter through; it Was froma vestryman. of his father’s church, h : that the Rey. Dr. Lucius Brandt ad died suddenly of heart disease, in his li- rary, and while writing his sermon for the Coming Sabbath; that the church would bury He With honor, but that his daughter, Carl’s ttle sister Florette, would be taken care of for & few weeks, until she could be sent for by her ets who of course would become her pro- “tor. B Tt was a coldly-written letter, and Carl eho wed was almost crushed by the blow; but he thoted to go to Burton Prince and tell him %t he would keep the balance of the hundred ollars, which he had urged upon him, and then Start at once for home. h ome! Oh, the mockery of the word, for J 4ve no home,” he said, bitterly; ‘but I will ve one, for I shall work day and night for Pr little sister mine,” he added, more hope- ; “ay and he went in search of his benefactor. urton Prince, did you ask for, Carl? Why. $ but one place to find him, when he’s no tbage,” laughingly said a fellow-student, ‘ Vet Be & ws +o) H ; . 4 ‘ f =’ 4S ope they J ¢ NS te eM Rs Dae 7 a ee PS ee Pas 7 i> & ind - r ‘ ou " BLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET. SS a a a ee a an een ‘Then he'll not return before supper?” ‘“‘Make it midnight, for what cares he for the president’s kicking at his late hours? He’s too rich to be expelled.” Carl Brandt returned, to his room, wrote an explanatory note to Burton Prince about the odd fifty, and then packed up the things he wished to take with him, the steward giving him five dollars for his furniture. Bidding the president and his fellow-students good-by he left Valley View Academy forever, and an hour after was rushing along in the cars toward his desolate home in Delaware, where a eieay father and parentiless little girl awaited im. But he was not in despair, for in his pocket he had a roll of bills, over his expenses, and though he knew that it: must be paid back again, he had the use of it, and it would kee the wolf from the door for the present; but ha he been able to see what the receiving of that money held in store for him, he would have rather died than taken it from the hands of Burton Prince, CHAPTER Iii. A MADMAN’S LOVE. ‘“ Anp thus you would desert me, Burto Prince?” oa ‘¢ No, Helen, and you are unkind to take tha view of it, for I have told you that the gover- nor has shut down upon me in money matters, as busybodies have written him regarding our —our—friendship, and of course exaggerated the matter, until he is determined to put an end to it by starving my pocket-book, which he knows will bring me to terms,” ‘* What terms, Burton?” “ Well, he wants me, now that I will gradu- ate ina week’s time, to return to New York and enter the bank as assistant cashier, and if I show a willingness to give up my wild life, he will come down handsomely.” ‘*T believe you once told me he wished you to marry the daughter of one of his aristocratic and wealthy friends, a beauty and an heiress?” and there was a sneer in the tone of Helen Boyd. “Oh, yes, and I have allowed him to believe that I could be led like a lamb to the slaughter, for what could I do when he holds the purse- strings? But of course I will not marry her.” ‘Of course not, Burton Prince, as J am your legal wife.” The young man winced; but he said quickly: “True, Helen, and one of these days I will acknowledge you as such; but you have sworn to keep our marriage a secret until Iam willing to have you make it known. ‘‘Next week I start for the city, and then, after a few weeks’ vacation, I will go to work in the bat.k, and within two months’ time can send for you, and you shall have a cosey little home, and we will be so happy.” ‘“‘And you will let your father know that I am your wife?” said the girl, pleadingly. “Tt wouldn’t be very healthy for me to let him think that you were otherwise,” was the rather evasive answer, and then he continued: ‘*T will leave you ample funds, Helen, and—” *‘ And mother, Burton, what can I say to her, for you know that my conduct with you has al- most broken her heart, and she told me only last night, that the villagers all believed me a uilty girl, or I would not accept the presents I ofrom you. Oh, Burton, let me make known our marriage, for I am believed by all to be a thing of shame.” ' She placed her perfectly molded arms around his neck and gazed with piteous, appealing look into his face; but he said, coldly: “They merely report the rumors of three months ago, Helen, and you can stand thema little longer, and then all will come well; don’t be a silly goose. j : a rer Fiother, can she go to the city with me?” “No, I fear the metropolitan life would kill your mother, for she is getting old—’ ‘‘ Only fifty, Burton.” . “Fifty! why how old that is! When I am fifty I’ll feel like Methuselah, for my motto is a short life and a merry one; but let your mother remain here, and I will pay off the mortgage on the farm and make her as comfortable as pos- sible.” y “Ah, me! I hope all will come well, yet I cannot but doubt you, Burton; but,” and her eyes flashed fire. ‘‘s ould you deceive me, Bur- ton Prince, you will curse the day that you were born.” ; : : The man, in spite of his nerve, felt a thrill run through him at Helen’s threat, and witha promise to see her'soon again, he left her stand- ald Set f -” fet Ags » ee Rh ee te 52 3% SP his (39 a5 9 NALS « rel rf 3 mf whe os we x wiht ab 2 ing alone upon the. spot that had been their trysting place for months, a wild, jutting rock overhanging the river that swept madly by, hundreds of feet below. Helen knew the place but too well, for, in the days before she had met Burton Prince, she was wont to 0 BO there with her most favored lover, Edgar Monkton, the village school-teacher, who had fallen in love with his fair pupil the first day that he met her, nd rumor had it that Edgar Monkton would marry Helen Boyd; but, rumor went astray when Burton Prince met the beauty, and the or school-teacher nursed his jealousy in si- ence and brooded mournfully over his lost love, Now, as she stood upon Lover’s Leap, from whence, a century ago, an Indian maiden had sens | to her death on account of a false lover, she looked far beneath her upon the wild Housa- tonic, as it bounded through its rocky gateway, and said, bitterly: ‘“*T am half inclined to end my doubts and sorrows, as did that poor Indian girl, and spring from this dizzy hight,” and with utter reekioae ness she leaned over the precipice. “Helen Boyd, has the guilty soul in bosom driven you to contemplate suicide?’ The maiden uttered a startled cry, and reeled upon the very edge of the precipice, but, with an agile spring, she recovered herself, and faced the speaker whoso words at her back had so startled her. He was a man of thirty, with a strongly- marked face, good form, and, attired in home- spun suit and straw hat, presented a strikin contrast to the elegant Burten Prince, who ha last stood where he did. ‘Edgar Monkton, you nearly cost me my life,” she said, with flashing eyes. ‘*Had I done so, it would have saved you from the life of misery and shame before you,” . he said, bitterly. rT ‘*How dare you speak thus to me, Edgar Monkton? you are nothing to me, and you haye no claim upon me.” ; ‘‘Ah, Helen, I had the claim of love, for, on this very spot, with these old pines shelterin, us, I told you of my love for you, and heat he ot response, which I now know was false, alse as your heart has proven to me,” said the school-teacher, commencing his sentence in a + Lad t sad tone, and ending with a savage earnestness | that frightened the girl, for she noticed that his manner was wild, and his eyes shone with a — glitter she had never before seen in them, “ Stand aside, sir, and let me pass,” she said, rmly, : ‘No, you shall not pass here, Helen Boyd; here your destiny and mine must be shaped for the future, for I will not give you eo eS ee ‘“ What do: you mean, Edgar Monkton? ,You have no claim upon me,” she said, alarmed, now, thoroughly, for his usually soft and win- ning manner had changed in a wonderful de- gree. £ ‘‘Helen Boyd, I mean that T offered you my — love, and you accepted it, and in heaven our vows are registered; now, tell me, do you re- . tract your pledge to me?” **Most assuredly. Iwas but a child and I was flattered by your attentions, and admired you, believing my admiration to be love. I now know to the contrary, and we can never be more than friends,” , ‘, Bah! I have plenty of friends; it is a wife I want,” he said, violently, ‘We can never be more than were nowto _ each other.” ‘Helen, you do not know the Monkton ma- ture, if you think I will tamely submit to be- ing cast aside like a well-worn glove. No, no, you are to be my wife, and unless you swear, upon your honor as a woman, to marry me, Twill hurl you from here into the mad waters. below.” Startled by his words, surprised at his man- ner, and with his awful threat ringing in her z ears, Helen knew not what to say or do; but’ she cried, as he stepped toward her: : ‘*Out upon such manhood, Edgar Monkton to attempt to force a w2man to love you by vile feo threats,’ “Do you promise?” ‘i “No!” she said, still brave in the face of im- pending danger, hit fe ‘*’You shall!” and he advanced nearer. “‘T cannot!” she said, pleadingly. ‘* Give me a reason, and I wil he the judge,” His voice was low and hoarse, and his eyes gleamed with savage brightness, and she knew that she stood in the presence of a madman, ** Your reason; J am your judge.” “Tama wife already !” ae from her by terror. have been ‘ Fe The words were wrun for her life, but they had é h aE ee So 8 oe oy Se better not ee ont ‘ as * se \ Sold ae < m ‘ a : a ayy ¥ eee { “ny er NY
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x AN ea ei i rae t -' make known, for Tam going to New ey 0 oat 4 uttered, for they drove him to desperation, and | | he sprung toward her shouting: ‘* His wife! then God knows you shall die!” There was no escape for her, for she stood al- most upon the edge of the dizzy hight, and her loudest ery would not reach the nearest farm- house; she felt that her life must there end, and horror clutched her heart at the thought, though a few moments before she had calmly contemplated springing into the waters below of her own free will. The next instant his mad grasp was upon her and she was powerless in his hands; she closed her eyes in despair, shutting out the bright sun- shine, glimmering river, pine-feathered hills and pleasant valley. But, when all hope had gone from her heart there came a sharp report, a whizzing sound. and Edgar Monkton’s hold upon her was loosen- ed, while he reeled with outstretched arms and staring eyes. _ With noble impulse she sprung forward to save him; but she was too late, as he went back- ward over the precipice, and down from sight swept his form toward the depths below. She heard the Sey splash, as his body struck the water; then her strength gave way and she sunk upon the moss-covered rock, while across the chasm, on the other abrupt edge of the mountain, severed by the rushing river, sha saw aman appear, holding a rifle in his hand, and heard his cheering cry: “Tl be with you in a moment.” Then he disappeared from sight; but watch ing the shore she saw him reappear, spring into a waiting boat and row across the in below Lover’s Leap, the large, dark pool into which , the Housatonic poured after rushing through the severed mountains, and which the dwellers _ hear said was bottomless. ' _ Asif unconscious that his boat glided above the form of the man whom his shot had sent to sink forever into the depths of the bottomless basin, the stranger landed and nimbly climbed the c sides of the precipice and stood be- fore Helen Boyd. es His story was soon told; he was idling a few weeks away at a _farm-house down the valley, lived in New York, and was to return home the : _ following day, and was out for a farewell hunt when he witnessed the scene from the. other cliff, and was glad that he had risked the shot. As he spoke he gazed with undisguised ad- miration upon the beautiful girl, and, with a refinement of feeling, in accord with his court- ly manners and gentlemanly appearance, he asked no questions regarding the strange scene he had fortunately been a witness of. ‘A full moment Helen Boyd gazed into the face of the man betore her, and then, as if havy- ing come to some decision, she said in her low, musical tones, laying her hand upon his arm; “You have saved my life; saved me from a fearful death, and I have no right to ask more of you; but yet 1 do.” _ “You have but to command, and I obey,” he said, gallantly. Ese be it isa strange request, and one which you cannot understand, and which I will not ex- plain; but which, one of these days, I may ork soon - tolive, and we may meet.” He felt the power of her wondrous eyes, and answered, as she paused: “The request is granted, even before I know its tenor.” She was silent for a moment, and her face be- “came very pale, as she said, in almost a whis- per: F ‘It is very kind of you; the request is, that _ you do not make known to any one what has qust taken place.” He started visibly, and gazed searchingly into _ her face, while he responded in a voice that _ showed he was deeply moved: ** A life on one’s hands is not a pleasant se- cret to bear, for haunting memories from the grave dog our steps antiringly 3 but I promise, as I pledged my word, and [ believe no one saw } what occurred; but are you certain that you can Keep the secret?” 4 “Try me; we shall meet again; now good- y He grasped her hand, and she pressed his peey and then with a glance and shudder into the depths below, she walked rapidly . away, murmuring to herself: . “That man has a history, I know, and his dark, handsome face will haunt me with that 2 of poor Edgar Monkton.” CHAPTER IV. - .-A WOMAN’S vow. _ ‘THE little village, in which Edgar Monkton FA —_— -- —. waie Fae - , ei + Sine il = % | =V:= ‘Gay z - ae had taught the “young ideas how to shoot,” was terribly excited over the unaccountable disappearance of the teacher, who had.won the héarts of reo and scholars alike during his sojourn of three years in their midst. ehad left his home on Saturday morning, but at night had not returned, and when the following day he had not appeared a general | alarm was spread, and a search was instituted. It was known that he was wont to take long | walks alone, visiting the distant mountains .: _ - FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE ST and since Helen Boyd had set him adrift he had | been like ** An oarless barque Upon a storm-swept sea,” and many had noticed that he had taken to heart the broken vows of the beautiful coquette for his lonely walks hecame more frequent, and with a desire to accumulate riches, for he said the maiden had been lured by the money of Burton Prince, he was in the habit of visiting an old mine, worked by an English company before the Revolutionary war, but left in deso- lation for more than a hundred years. Into the shafts of this mine he would go, so *twas said, and work ah hoping to dig out of the generous rocks gold enough to make him, too, a millionaire, Thither, then, a party went to seek him; the old mine was explored to its furthest recess, but without result, while others searched every pathway of the mountain and valley, Butin the deep basin under the shadow of Lover’s Leap none thought to look, and the se- eret of that scene on the pine-clad cliff re- mained buried in the hearts of two persons. With feigned surprise, and bitter sorrow, Helen Boyd heard the report of Edgar Monk- ton’s disappearance, and, as day after day went by, and no tidings of his fate were known, she breathed more freely, and soon felt that the mystery must remain a mystery with all ex- cept herself and that other one. ‘And who was that other one?” she asked herself over and over again. Aman who had saved her life by a daring shot that proved his nerve, and unerring aim, for a miss of the mark and her brain might have been pierced by the bullet. A man who had calmly granted her request to keep the deed a secret, and one whose name she even did not know, but whose face haunted her as did the remembrance of poor Edgar Monk- ton’s fate. For a long time Helen Boyd did not have courage to go to Lover’s. Leap; but, one day, after Burton Prince had been gone for two months, and the mountain-sides were tinged with the red and gold of autumn, she started for the old trysting place, carrying in her hand a letter just received, and still unread. It was addressed in the bold hand of Burton Prince, and must bring to her the promised tr to come, and she wished to read it all alone. Seating herself upon the mossy rock, beneath the sighing pines, that seemed now to her to be chanting a requiem over the Ae ang pp of Edgar Monkton, Helen Boyd broke the seal of her letter, shuddering, as her eyes involuntarily turned upon the black, waveless waters of the basin, below, which had closed over the dark secret resting beneath, to shut it out, she hoped, forever from the world. The letter she read with staring eyes, livid face, and close-shut teeth; why, the reader can see by its perusal: ““Banxina House, Price & Co., } ‘New Yorg, Oct. 1st, 18—. ff “My Dear HELEN: “Now do not get a with me because I do not call you darling, or pet, and cry your glorious ay 4 out at Lam going to tell you; but the truth is, have had another darling forced upon me by that governor of mine; that is, he has forced me into an engagement with Berta ‘Ivey, of whom you have heard me speak. “She is a most deserving girl, far too good for me, Iam free to acknowledge; but her personal income is forty thousand a year, and she is an heiress be- sides, and our fathers are ***Boon companions o’er the bowl,’ as Byron says, so yowsee I am forced to obey, for it was in vain that ‘I told the old man that I loved another, and all that; he would listen to nething, and told me he would send me away frem home without a dollar, and eut me off with a luck penny. “You will say, why did I not confess that I was married, and allow him to see you, trusting to your splendid fascinations and marvelous beauty te win him over? “Your question gives me pain to answer, for I do not like to confess the deception I practiced upon you; but, Helen, we were not legally married. “There now, I can see those superb eyes sn: that exquisite mouth contract; but, it is the for the man who married us was a hireling of , and ruth, mine. | teacher who was sweet upon you, if he has turned | up yet—and if you cannot in Milford find one t& ' check for one thousand dollars, which will pay off ed a ‘ v 7”, > Sd a akg Nag eee th ia em aedidte fie sc As AS aE REET tS paid LG play his part, and not a minister, as you sup= | se . \ “Forgive me, my beautiful Helen, but I could no give you up; but, as no one knows of the fictitio marriage, you can soon catch a beau—that young your taste, why, come to New York, for there ar@ thousands here who would bow down to your feeb for one of your brilliant smiles, and you would sooD Jearn your power. ; ‘Having made my confession, I beg to inclose a the ht on the farm, and keep yourself ar 4 © mother along until I marry Berta Ivey, when I w send you a handsome sum, for her money will then be mine, you know. “Tf you decide to come to the city at any time write to me, but I would advise against it, for New | York is a dangerous place for young girls, and es- | pecially pretty ones; and if you need more money, write me. ‘‘Now, what can I say more—oh! I nearly forgot: by express to-day I send you a solitaire diamo ; ng, which wear in remembrance of me, in place of the one with which the mock marriage was per- | formed. + “Now, farewell, and ever believe in the friend- | ship of Yours, lovingly, Burr. “P.§.—I forgot to tell you about that straight- faced specimen of morality who you remember was at the Academy with me; I refer to Carl Brandt, | the parson’s son? “Well, after his father’s death he came to this wicked Gotham to get work, and was in a fair way to starve, when one day my little sister, Marion, was _ out driving with her ponies; taking fright, they ran — away, but were cleverly caught and ag ae by @ young fellow, who proved to be none other than Carl Brandt, ‘*He broke his arm in the struggle with the ponies, but there is no doubt but that he saved Marion’s life, and the governor made him a clerk in the bank, and has ee him twice, until I expect to see him take himinto partnership before the year’s out> but the fellow’s devilish sly, I’m thinking, as I passed his rooms the other day and saw an exqui- sitely lovely face at the window with him, which carries out the old adage of preachers’ sons and deacons’ daughters needing watching. “ But again I must say adiew. “Yours, Bort.”’ Until the sun was sinking beneath the moun- tains, did Helen Boyd sit after reading this. — cruel letter, her eyes fixed on vacancy, her hands clenched tight, her lips:set, and her bosom heaving, as though her heart. would burst in its: agony. "At length she arose, calm and decided, and from her lips came the words: ‘‘Curses upon you, forever, Burton Prince, for the wrong you have done me! but I'll take your advice and go to the city, for I do know my power, and men shall feel it, while I vow to revenge myself on you; it is a woman’s vow, but it shall be kept Iswear it by the body of Edgar Monkton, that lies in those dark waters.” rusting the cold, heartless. letter into her bosom, she retraced her way adown the path, - and, after a walk of ten minutes, turned into a white gate leading toa pleasant cottage, nest- ling under the hillside. It was the home where she was born, and upon whose hearthstone her own acts would bring a curse, a she kept her vow, the sequel will ow. CHAPTER V. SELF-ACCUSED, ‘“‘BroraEeR Carl, you seem troubled; won’t ou tell me what it is?’ and Florette laid her ttle hand caressingly upon her brother’s shoul- der, as he arose to go into the adjoining room to the breakfast she had prepared for him. The scene has changed now, from the moun- tains that shelter the valley of the Housatonic, to a cosey ‘‘flat” in a quiet street of New York city, the great metropolis of the western hem- isphere. > Six months have gone by since Carl Brandt turned his back upon the academic halls in old Connecticut, and came to the city to live where, after hovering upon the very verge of starvation, he had at last received a situation in the banking firm of Prince & Co., given him in gratitude, by the senior member, for having sayed the life of his idol, his beautiful daugh- ter, Marion. With the salary then at his command the for- tunes of Carl Brandt arose, and from the dingy little boarding-house on Pearl street, where he and his sister Florette had found a home, he moved into a more desirable neighborhood near Washington Park, and rented a little flat of three rooms, a: With Florette as housekeeper, and a negro | gle as Fania tay bien Bing 5 one sister vi ppily ether, each week laying — by some of his salary for arainv daw and om * 4 4 6 < . b i
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HL Pete ee He ey “os, FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET. : Sh ‘Mg won the full confidence of his employer and - ow-clerks, the future looked bright and hope- But one morning, long to be remembered by both of them, Florette had noticed a troubled Ook upon his face, and had asked the question, ns pleadingly, as he remained silent: «v1 0n't you tell me, brother Carl?” reg Iam troubled at something that took place ast night, but which you could not under- | Stand, Florette; well, I must be off, for it is Marly nine o'clock.” issing her good-by he left the house, Florette, _ 8 little child-woman of thirteen, with sunny ir and Jarce blue eyes, watching him until he a out of sight down the street far she dearly Sved that big, noble brother of hers. ._ jr. Prince was just going to send for you, Sir,” said a fellow-clerk, as Carl entered, and he Noticed there seemed considerable excitement mong all in the bank. aying aside his hat and overcoat, he went to the private office, and to his surprise found © two members of the firm there, and also the head cashier and Burton, all of them lookin 4s though deeply moved at something that ©ccurred. “Mr. Brandt, I was just about to send for you, sir, when you were reported coming; do you know that the bank was robbed last night?” Carl Brandt started visibly, turning suddenl ale, a circumstance that all present notic ut he said firmly: 0, sir; the safe was blown open by bur- Slars I suppose?” t No, it was unlocked and entered, and ten housand dollars in bills taken,” said Mr. Prince, a bluff, aristocratic old man of sixty.” } That cannot be, sir, as J carried the keys 4st night, at the request of Mr. Burton Prince, Osaid he was going out of town; here they are, sir,” “And yet the watchman came to my house “i Sight o’clock and told me the safe was open; id you close it last night, sir?” 0, but, as Mr. Burton Prince carries the ¥ keys, I’ supposed that he had.” nd you are certain that you locked the Safe, Burton?” asked Mr. Prince of his son, who Teplied, pettishly: I Father, it is silly to ask the question. Would leave a million in wg caled thus exposed? I ocked the safe, and, as Brandt says, gave him € keys, expecting to run down to on Branch penne night, but, missing the boat, I did not , Mr, Brandt, this certainly has a very sus- Picious look; were you at the bank last night?” asked the senior partner. was, sir, for some three hours, going over ™Yy accounts; I left at eleven o’clock and started eon my return home, but again came back €re,as I had forgotten my pocketsbook, and © man was to call for the rent this morning. Upon my return I met one of the persons Sonnected with the bank, entering by the pri- Vate office, but as he did not speak to me, I said \ Nothing to him.” Jonly have the key to the private office, sir, 8nd J was at home in bed, so who was the per- Son you saw?” th or the present I decline to say, sir,” was © surprising and calm rejoinder. B his is strange, very strange, and, Mr. Tandt, it casts still greater suspicion on yh orl gn sorry to say that you are suspected.” M eat God! do Se mean what you say, eel cried Carl, now as white as a ‘I do, sir; you had the keys last night, the Safe door was found unlocked this morning, and pon examination the cashiers say that ten ‘ “ousand dollars in bills are missing, while, b your Own confession, you were here last nia, Od after leaving, returned to seo one of the ™ entering this private office.” One from the office, sir, J said, not the “ : andso °° it; you refuse to tell who that was, esa this adds to the suspicion against you, es- lally as the watchman on this beat says he y st you leave the bank at two o’clock, while ses Say you departed at eleven; also, he says ne Carried a package in your hand; so, under nie Circumstances, I must hold you as the mid- eht thief.” Carl Brandt was speechless with amazement, . Slanced from one to the other with a look Gere. and pleading they long remem- i At length his : gazerested upon Burton Prince ; santos a few seconds the two men looked _ “ight into each other’s eyes. Ve you nothing to say in my defense, ‘urton?” he asked. in a voice * \ a ea See a attrembled. _ ‘‘What can I say, Brandt? The money was in the safe when I gave you the keys, and this morning it is gone, and the safe unlocked, while you were here last night. From my heart I pity you, Carl, but before the law you must plead your guilt or innocence.” “Well, sir, what do you say now, for the proofs are against you, though God knows I would have as soon suspected my own son to be ilty as you,” said banker Prince, evidently eeply moved. Carl Brandt stood for a moment in silence, his eyes flashing, and he was about to speak, when into the room glided a fairy-like form, and a face with the spirituelle loveliness of a Madonna. She was exquisitely and richly dressed, and bowing pleasantly to those present, said in a voice of rare sweetness: “Come, papa, I am ready for our drive. You ran away from the house before I saw ‘“‘Not to-day, Marion, for I am worried, ‘as the safe has been opened and robbed during the night.’ The bank robbed? and by whom?” asked Marion, in surprise, opening her beautiful eyes wide with astonishment. ‘“*Thave just been compelled to accuse Mr, Brandt there.” ‘‘Never! Carl Brandt could be guilty of no mean action, father, and it is a shame to acCuse him; look elsewhere for your thief,” and draw- ing herself up proudly, she turned upsu those before her, her face expressive of the utmost in- epee ioe ut had an earthquake shaken that solid house to its center, it would not have caused more consternation than the words that fol- lowed, in distinct, unhesitating tones, from the lips of Carl Brandt: ‘“*{T thank you for Nas kind words, Miss Prince, but your trust in me is misplaced; J am the thief.” A wail broke from the lovely girl, and she sunk back into her brother’s arms, while the old banker said, sternly: “Call an officer and send that man to pris- on!” CHAPTER VI. TWO VISITORS. Cari BRANDT sat alone in his dismal cell, brooding sadly over his downfall; the day be- fore all hope, to-day in despair. ‘« A gentleman to see you, sir,” said the guard, and the iron door swung open, admitting a per- son whom Carl remembered to have seen be- fore, but did not know, other than ’twas said he was immensely rich, gambled heavily, and whiled away his time in driving fast horses, sailing his nti and was quite a lion in socie- ty, though he had evidently seen his forty-fifth ear. ‘“My name is Castleton, sir, Brete Castleton, and I have come to have a litle talk with you,’ and, turning to the guard, he handed him a ten- dollar gold piece, and continued: “Just step to yonder window, my friend, and look at the artistic work on this gold.” The man took the hint that the visitor wished to be alone with the prisoner and obeyed, when Colonel Brete Castleton again turned to Carl, who said, simply: ** Be seated, sir,” and he pointed to the bench, while he sat down upon the eot. Colonel Castleton was certainly a very dis- tingué looking man, a little too flashy, perhaps, in his dress, but then it was excused in him by women, and men did not care to criticise, for those who pretended to know, said the colonel had been a very brave soldier in the Mexican war, and had fought several fatal duels in his native State, Louisiana; at any rate, there vas a dangerous light ’way back in his dark eyes that showed he would not stand trifling. “Mr, Brandt, this is a bad fix you have got- ten into,” he said, in a kindly way. ‘Tt is, sir; I am very unfortunate,” respond- ed Carl, sadly. ‘ ‘‘What was your motive, may I ask, in lay- ing the guilt upon yourself?’ ra Carl Brandt started, and eyed his visitor, keenly. ‘¢*T was accused; circumstances pointed to me as the criminal, so why deny the charge?” he answered. ‘ “And yet you should have done so, and did wrong to let.the blame fall upon you, when you knew the junior member of the firm was the ilty party. ert junior member! do you refer to Mr. ey De Vigne?” asked Carl, in surprise. “I do: it has been known of lata that ha hee ‘ or oh ke ie oe * oe Ce we eee ee —_———— peen playing heavily and could not draw moro out of the firm to pay his losses with, and he was the one you saw enter that night by the way of the private office,” and Colonel Castle- ton looked straight into the face of the man be- fore him, upon whose countenance the color went and came painfully, showing that he was deeply moved. ‘“Mr. Brandt,” the colonel went on, ‘‘ I know that in Harvey De Vigne you recognized, after ou came to the bank as a clerk, one’who, years hatore: had befriended you on board ship, when ou was a cabin-boy and he a midshipman, and hat when you fell from the main-top one night wry of storm, and broke your arm by striking the yard and plunged into the sea, it was the . young banker who sprung overboard and held you up until the life-boat rescued you; these. are the reasons why you accused yourself of the crime, are they not?” th ‘*Colonel Castleton, I do not see why you i" should come here and ascribe motives of action | to me of this kind. I greatly admire Mr. De Vigne, I admit, but he was not the guilty one, as if confessed to the theft.” “And I say you are not guilty, and wish to save you, if you will do as I require.” *“* And what do you wish?” “Place the charge where it belongs, upon Harvey De Vigne, and I will have it proven by witnesses that he is guilty, and that you ac- cused yourself merely to save him, Do this, and upon leaving this cell you shall have a bet- ay eee than the one you held with Prince O. ” fi \ ‘“‘What your secret motives are, Colonel) Castleton, for making this strange request, I ox cannot fathom; but you ask in vain, and, hay- ing confessed to the robbery, I will stand my trialand take the consequences.” ‘* You are determined then?” ae I am.” The colonel frowned, and rising paced the ahd floor, several times to and fro. ‘*So be it, Brandt; but I cannot help thinking you a greater fool than I thought it possible or man to be, for J know that you are not ilty.” ‘ Without another word he left the cell; but as - he stepped out into the corridor the guard ap- . ry pears: followed by a lady, whose. brilliant x “asad and superb toilet fairly startled the colo- e nel, at ya “Great God! what a face is that for a man to worship,” he exclaimed, and as he. walked § ~- away, and saw the lady enter the cell of Carl Brandt, he called to the guard: é as “Here, my man, thisis.a twenty, and if you find out for me the cause of that lady’s visit, I'll give you its twin; here is my address,” and he gave him a card. wry ‘*There is a hole in the adjoining cell, through which I can hear every word, sir,” said the de- lighted official, mentally calling the colonela ~~ prince of a fellow. 1 eS But the fair visitor seemed to suspect some- fe thing wrong, for she said, pleasantly: ts “] will stand just here in the door, guard, «© and if you wilt walk out of earshot you will , oes confer a favor,” and she slipped into the,hand vere of the fellow a bill, which caused him to mutter as he walked away: P ** Well, ?m in luck to-day. Wish I could earm iY that twin gold piece, but from where she stands, : she would see me go into the next cell, That prisoner may be poor, but his friends are rich, ~ and generous, too,” : ; In the meantime the fair visitor had turned to- ward Carl Brandt, who rose at sight of her, . though an iron chain around his left ankle made aa it difficult for him to move about. ee “Mr. Brandt, do you not know me?” shesaid, in the softest of tones. ‘‘Miss Helen Boyd!” he exclaimed, with sur- prise; ‘‘ you here in New York?” re ““Yes, I have come to: the metropolis to — ie live.” to come into this loath- “Tt was kind of you some place to see me.” ‘‘ No; because I always liked you, Mr. Brandt, and am very deeply pained to see that you \ have voluntarily a Mer yourself in @ cell, ; © | where another than you should be,”and she fixed her magnificent eyes upon his face with a ae look that seemed to read his soul. 1 ag ‘‘I do not quite understand you,” he said, hesitatingly. Rese | “It is because you will not; but Iwill make = myself so plain that there willbe no misunder- standing me; why did you say you were guilty © of a crime of which you are asinnocentasIam this moment?” Rech “Ah, Miss Helen, it is kind of you to Believe — in my innocence; but I have forfeited all claim to your regard, so let it be as it is.” aa 8 pnt am i ” Pie, 5 EEE ee
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— ee ———— fhe tossed her head impatientiy. ““You have done nothing of the kind, for you are ennobled in my mind by sacrificing yourself to save a man from shame and ruin, because he once did you a favor.” “Harvey De Vigne saved my life once, at the risk of his own, Miss Helen; but you make a mistake in charging him with guilt,” ears **T do not know Mr. De Vigne, nor did I re- fees fer to him, but to Burton Prince.” mire! Again Carl Brandt started as he had when i Colonel Castleton had accused Harvey De Vigne =. ee a ee . and seeing his countenance change Helen Boyd : went on: ee: **“Do you deny that Burton Prince is the mene thief?’ “Why, how could I accuse him, when I pub- licly admitted myself to be the criminal?” | Again she tossed her proud head impatiently, ‘a and said: ; : “Bah! you are incorrigible; and do you in- ; ee 4 suffer the penalty?’ 0 ; ‘Tt will be long years in prison.” 5 “T know it will.’ eae “And when your term is ended, you will sin still be looked upon as Brandt, the convict.” ; ‘*True, and the shame will go with me and “a mine to the grave,” he said, with bitterness. Gy’ **Carl Brandt, if ir will retract the accusa- " tion against yourself, thd did so upon ee to save the real culprit, ais Burton Prince, ill have witnesses to prove ~~ -_—s+ihhim guilty, and you shall go forth free, and I _~., willsee that you obtain a more lucrative situa- & tion than you had before.” Carl Brandt gazed upon her with surprise, for she had made the same Bos eon bouts almost, that Colonel Castleton had made, only his de- . gsire was to accuse Harvey De Vigne, the pet of _.__ society, the rich and handsome junior member of the firm of Prince & Co. ack ' Knowing what he did of Helen’s past admira- Bsr tion for Burton Prince, whom rumor in the old ' + Connecticut hills said had wrecked her young life, and knowing the cashier to be engaged to Berta Ivey, Carl felt that revenge was the mo- tive that influenced the beautiful girl to wish to fasten the guilt upon her faithless lover; after _ a moment’s thought, he said, as he had before: “T have confessed to the guilt, Miss Helen, and 1 will abide the issue.” “Carl Brandt, you are an egregious fool,” burst angrily from the red lips. ul Carl smiled and bowed, and then her little hand was stretched forth. padi) the crimson blood to her face, for she seemed to Bey read in his mind the question there: _,. “Ts this that pretty little country girl who _.. * dweltin our humble cottage less than a year ago, and wore calicoes, now dressed in the costliest silks, wearing diamonds, and the most stylish woman in the metropolis?” _ “Carl,” and her face flushed as she read those’ thoughts, ‘‘do not refusé to let me aid '. you, for the money I would give you is not _ stained; will you let me aid you?” . .\. “Thave some money laid away thank you, Miss Helen, and it will serve me.” " “You still doubt me; but Ihadsome Sy abe left me years ago, a piece of Jand, whic* I found on investigation was worth several thousands, and I sold it.” “ And is your mother with you?” he asked. “No; she remains at the old cottage on the Housatonic. I came here alone for a purpose and I shall accomplish it; but, good-by,” ar _ turning’ almost abruptly she left the cell an. the prison, creating a flutter of admiration among the Officials, as she swept through them . to her carriage. CHAPTER VII. oe 5 FLORETTE. SLOWLY dragged the long hours away to poor Carl, after the departure of his two strange vis- tors, and he was glad when the jailer approach- ed with his supper, and said: Your sister’s to see you, sir.” ‘Show her in, please,” and the strong mouth quivered, for though it was Florette’s third visit to him in that dismal place, it cut him to _., the heart to have her come there. ae A moment more and Florette, a perfect little ry form, with spirituelle face, and golden i ve hair, came into the cell, a little basket upon her ee aa : x Beet ey a otonin her arms around. her brother’s of pen. nec she kissed him affectionately, and said: mee I've brought you some cake and preserves, -. brother Carl, and they are good, for I made fed At "ape chock ¢ ae, Siycee tre F At yt! Lan TAP Tek ee eee Pe er) oe Ment and say frankly that you, a hate Bien: a tak Stet +t . \ FLORETTE, CHILD OF ‘THE STREET. * them myself; and you must forgive me for not coming yesterday, for I was moving.” ** Moving, Florette? Why did you do that?’ “Well, I thought I’d get cheaper quarters, and more suitable ones, for I’m keeping board- ing-house now.” ‘Keeping boarding-house, Flor? What can you mean?” he asked, in surprise. “Well, you see, Carl, people say you will have to goto prison,” and her eyes filled with tears; but controlling her emotion, she con- tinued: “‘and that it would bé several years before you got out, so I had to do something for a living.” ‘* But, Miss Marion Prince wrote me a note that she would see that you were cared for.” ‘© A snap for Miss Marion Prince and all of them, too! Ican take care of myself, for I’ve got a kitchen, a dining-room and a bedroom, all for seven dollars a month, and I’ve got my boarders engaged, one dollar a week day board.” “Oh, Florette! Florette!” “Don’t be angry with me, Carl, for they are not high-toned people who will cheat me, but poor, hard-working folks, for there’s that cra newspaper man, actor and whatever else he calls himself, and he’s going to teach me for his board, and he’s awful smart, as I’ve heard you say; then there’s Jicksey, the bootblack, and Tip, the newsboy, and Baldy, the Bulldog, who you said was kind to you when you had no place to eat, and Will Terrill, the cat doctor, and all of that gang that we saw when we lived in Pearl street; they ain’t handsome, or well- dressed, Carl, I admit, but they have good hearts, and they’ll pay me when they have money.” “Oh, Florette! Florette!” groaned Carl. ‘* Are you angry with me, brother, because I wish to make money to give you when—when— you come back?” and she put her arms around is neck. ‘*No, Flor, Iam not angry; but it cuts meso to feel that you have to come to this. If you only had some kind woman to look after you.” ‘*Oh, I have; there’s Mrs. O’Gorman lives in the same house, on the floor below, and she’s a good woman, though her husband does get on. sprees, and ske says she’ll see that I get along; but here is a letter from Miss Prince; she brought it to our house just as the last load of furniture was going away, and she says you are to send an answer by me.” Carl seized the letter eagerly, broke the seal, and read: “ Av Homn, Thursday. **My p&AR Mr. BRANDT: “Believing you innocent, notwithstanding your confession of guilt, I desire to do all in my power for you, and therefore beg that you will accede to my wishes, * A trial will result in your sentence to prison for years, and, as you have a sister dependent upon you and who needs your aid, I trust that you will ac- cept the inclosed sum of money, with which your ards can be bribed, and you can fly to another d, and I willsee that the firm of Prince & Co. do not press the pursuit against you. **You saved me from a fearful death once; let me do this much for you now, I entreat you. ‘Yours, with continued respect, ‘* MARION PRINCE.” With commingled emotions Carl Brandt read this letter, and then wrote on a card, which he inclosed with the letter in the envelope from which it had been taken: “rom my inmost heart I thank you; but I will remain and bide my fate, be that what it may. “Oart BRanpt,” ‘« Plorette, give this persone to Miss Prince, and hand her these bills, too, but be careful, for I notice there is quite a jarge sum,” And a large sum, indeed, there was, for the noble girl, not gene to ask her father for the amount she needed, had pledged her most valu- able set of diamonds, to raise the means for Carl Brandt to gain his freedom. Putting the money and letter safely away, Florette, after a stay of a few minutes longer, arose and teok her leave, wending her way at once to the elegant mansion of the banker. ‘“‘T wish to see Miss Prince,” she said to the liveried servant, who, seeing a neatly dressed and exceedingly pretty little girl, ushered her into the grand parlors. : 7 A few moments passed, and Marion Prince swept into the 190m, looking very pale, but ex- yuisitely beautiful. ‘ . “Ah, it is you, Florette,” she said, kindly, for she had met the little girl once with her brother out walking, and again when she car- ' ried the letter for her to give him. ‘* Brother Carl asked me to return this letter and money, Miss Prince.” ‘“‘ And sent he no word?’ asked Marion, her face flushing. : “He has written something on a card. Please Py Sak Yee an ’ pee” DN BS h ga i Pe es! “ ie oh ae es eat be I Se ‘ J see if the money is all right,” coldly said Flo-} rette, who did not like any one Learing the} Prince name, as she seemed to feel that if was through them her brother got into trouble, for never had she doubted his innocence. “Tamsorry; I wish he had done as I request- ed; but you, Florette, where will you go! asked the maiden, looking into the pretty, up- turned face. 4 “Oh, I have a pleasant home to go to; good- by,” and Florette turned away. “One moment, Florette, for I wish you to promise that you will come to me, should you ever need a friend.” The child’s eyes filled with tears, but, hastily brushing them away, she said: “Tl get along all right, Miss Prince, but I thank you for your kindness,” and in another — moment she was gone; gone back to her little home, which, in spite of its humble aspeci, was neat and comfortable. And at the door she met Mrs, O’Gorman, who said, in her blunt, Irish way: “ And yez is afther being back, my darlint, and it’s well for ye, as your boarders has been round and saying you was a pretty boardin’- house lady to let them go hungry.” ‘‘T have been to see my poor brother, Mrs. O’Gorman, and was detained; have ney, Benet _.' Ah, they’ll be back, soon, for they left, not likin’ ther swateness 0° my tongue, seein’ as I isn’t in a swate humor, for that Dennis O’Gor- man is off on another spree, and I’m jist afther lookin’ him up and layin’ my two hands caress- — ingly upon him,” and Mrs, O’Gorman sauntered forth with fire in her eye, while Florette en- tered her room and hastily began preparing supper, a task she had not fairly begun, when a es head and freckled face popped in at the oor. “Supper ready, missus?” he asked, a grin pe oe his homely visage, and at the same time e remaining portion of a youth of thirteen | crossed the threshold, and, clad in a pair of pants that had once been worn by a man, and wearing a patch-work jacket, Master Jicksey, the bootblack, confronted Florette at her duties. “Supper will be ready soon, Jicksey; have you done well to-day?” she said, pleasantly. ‘‘Polished thirty pair, and one for a fellow who had a leg off, but who gi’n me ten cents for ther job; guess I’m in a dollar and sixty cents, bat hain’t counted capital sin’I hed a fight with Nigger Jake, and I mout have lost a leetle in ther scrimmage.” “Oh, Jicksey, have you been fighting?’ *“Couldn’t help it, missus, and it was only with Nigger Jake, who called mea liar, and ’a hev licked him, too, ef ther cop hadn’t come . along; wouldn’t I, Tip?” This last was addressed to Tip the newsboy, another ragamuffin cimen of humanity, who made clear dollar a day selling pa- pers, and whose face was the very picture of mischief, “ Yas, you wasgivin him fits, when ole Clubby come along. It’s a pity we boys can’t have no fun ’ithout ther polices chippin’ in. Golly, but thet ham dc smell good.” ‘*-You can soon taste it, Tip; but did you sell? out your papers?” asked Florette, anxious to show an interest in the business transactions of her boarders. “You bet, for there was a nigger hung this mornin’ early, you know, an’ thet’s prime read- in’, an’ ther papers goes slick; but here’s Baldy the Bulldog.” ‘Ves, Lare here, ev’ry bit o? me; and how is you, Miss Florette?” The personage who rejoiced in the above strange appellation was as strange as his name, given him not on account of his ferocious na- ture, for he was as gentle as a child, but from the fact of his having a head and face that re- sembled in a remarkable degree a bull-terrier. That he lived by his wits there was no doubt, for, except to hold a horse, or go on an errand, Baidy was never known to work, and yet he got enough “‘ pick-up jobs’ of that kind to keep im from starvation, and he had engaged table-, board with’ Florette, to add his little mite to her support. Where he spent his nights, it was hard to tell; but Jicksey and Tip said he took ‘*goods’-box lodging” Wherever he could find weed and dodge into it when a policeman wasn’t ooking. “Guess TH pay my board, Miss Florette,” said Baldy, handing a dollar to the girl. “Thank you, Baldy; this isin advance up to next Wednesday, for you began last nt “That's biz; you keep accounts, for I doesn’t - want to trouble myself with figgers,” declared Baldy, with the indifference of a millionaire in a small matter, and, seeing that he had more money. Jicksey remarked; a ee ee ee te “~
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COO REORETTE. “CHILD OF THE STREET. 00) * Ghiéss he’s Btruck ilé, Tip.” ° _“Yas; whar did yer find it, Baldy?” Instantly he started toward her, as though to speak, a forced smile upon his lips; but the fire This new. phase of her character fairly startled - \ him, and he replied, cutee “T earnt it, by the sweat o’ my brow, holdin’ | in those magnificent eyes, and the contemptuous ‘* Helen, you are unkind; you judge me be- | # horse for a gemman as went into a faro bank | curl of the beautiful mouth, checked him, and | fore you have heard me. ter strangle ther tiger. Guess, he strangled him, too, for he gi’n me two dollars for my work, and I has made as much more to-day.” “Guess thet lie will strangle you; you can’t ow no four dollars,” said Jicksey. Baldy immediately exhibited his pile. “ Here are three, and one I guv to Miss Flo- rette.” “‘How did you make the odd two, Baldy?” asked Tip. “ Pickin’ it up from whar some one had drop- bed it,” answered Baldy, patie: kar ' “Wish J knowed where somebody had drop- dafew. I guesses I knows who would pick t up,” remarked Tip. “Supper is ready ; come!” Florette’s invitation was promptly accepted, and the three seated themselves, just as another oarder appeared in the doorway, and received & salutation from Jicksey. ‘ 3 Come, Professor Romeo, we is waitin’ for er. “So I see; good-evening, my fair hostess, whose culinary art has regaled my nostrils with the flavor of smoked hog. Ah, and I see the fenit of the hen, looking like a huge gold button in a setting of 1—” Tir Them’s eggs, them is, Professor,” interrupted “Silence! thou ribald youth, and cram th Supper down and skip, for I like not well to loo Upon thy face. I would sit me down in peace and eat my food, for I have to feed the brain, Or much work have I to-night, and wilt burn he held on his way, stammering forth to Brete Castleton, as hé retook his arm: ‘¢T thought that I knew her.” ‘“‘Her look showed you to the contrary. I wonder who and what she is? but I will find out, for she is doubtless some Southern beauty and an heiress.” ““Excuse me, colonel, but I forgot to make a call I promised at the New York Hotel, so will have to return; will see you to-night at Mrs. Earl’s if not at the Club.” ‘Yes, I’ll leave the Club about eleven, and we'll go to the soir¢e together if agreeable,” an- swered the colonel, while Burton Prince, pro- fessing fatigue, crossed the square to a hack stand and sprung into a coupé. Calling the driver to the door, he said: “Drive slowly down Broadway until you overtake a lady in black velvet, and with an orange-colored plume in her hat; the handsom est and best-dressed woman on the street; then keep her in sight, but not so as to attract atten- tion. The coupé rolled away, and as it turned into Broadway Colonel Castleton crossed to the hackman, who moved up into the place of the vehicle just departed ‘“'You know the man that just drove away?” ‘* Well, sir.” ‘‘Then follow him, but do not let him suspect what you are about.” “All right, sir,” and the Jehu closed the door, mounted his box and drove off, while the colonel leaned back on the cushions and said, “Bah! I judge you by your letter, which I still hold, as proof of your perfidy. Ah, Bur- ton Prince, you have made of that timid coun- try girl a woman with a heart of iron and nerve of steel, who has taken your advice, and come to the city, where already she has discovered her power; I have to thank you for much, sir.” He knew not how to take her words, and _see- ing now that this brilliant creature was about to escape him, he said: ‘ ‘Helen, ihe have nothing to thank me for, but everything to hate me for; and I will not censure you, nor utter one word of complaint.” His voice was low and earnest, and in his looks there was pleading, for his vanity, not his heart, was touched, and he felt that with such a woman by his side in a drive in the Park, or upon his arm, in a promenade up Broadway, or in the box with him atthe thea- ter and opera, he could drive fashionable New York mad, the women with envy, and the men with jealousy. What sweet Berta Ivey would think he did not care; but the answer of Helen Boyd proved that she was rapidly arp a stiident in the ways of the world, for she said, with biting sarcasm: ‘Did I not know how black your heart is, Burton Prince, the mask of repentance and vir- tue you have on your face would deceive me; pub a cannot, for ‘a burnt child knows the e. : “You will doubt’ me, Helen, in spite of all Ican say.or do,” and he grew nervous now, as he thought of this beautiful gir] wholly from \ ae the midnight oil long after the city sleeps in | with a sneer: under his influence—perhaps his enemy. bie m repose.” “Prince did know that girl, and she knew Doubt you? Yes, in everything; you are | his new boarder was, like the others, achar- | him; I’ll see how this little game-ends, or my | Cruel toward women, and merciless toward acter; a tall, slender man of thirty-five, dressed | name is not Brete Castleton.” men; for instance see poor Carl Brandt, who in black, and with his coat buttoned up to the | In the meantime the driver of the coupé in | has gone-to the penitentiary for five years for a Paper collar that encircled his neck, giving a | which sat Burton Prince, soon came upon the | deed of guilt which you committed. biel Suspicion that he wore no shirt beneath. object of his search, and whom he recognized Great God! Helen, what do you mean?’ — , But his face was intelligent and refined, and | readily from the description given him, and | 87d the man was livid now. ae he traces of dissipation upon every feature | slowly followed until the lady suddenly turned She broke forth into a ringing laugh, and an- roved that rum had been his ruin, dragging | to the rightabout, and unconscious, seemingly, swered: sf im down from positions he had once adorned, | of the staring eyes upon her, retraced her way You are vulnerable, I see; but I will tell and wrecking his brain until the fires of genius | with the same easy, graceful step. you what I mean, and, in Zz our guilty soul, you 5 gone out forever. Reaching Twenty-second street, the beauty | Will know that every word I speak istruth, §, d these were a specimen of Florette’s | turned abruptly off of Broadway to the east, | ‘‘ When poor Brandt was at the academy ders; humble friends, who had known her | leaving behind her a disappointed throng of ad- | With you, he borrowed from your bounty, a brother and herself in their poverty, and, when | mirers; but, at the distance of a couple of | Mere pittance to you, one hundred dollars, and, Prosperity came to them, had been the recipi- | blocks apart, the two coupés followed her, | P0Y new De believed that he owed to youa, ents of numerous kindnesses at their hands; but | though not so as to attract attention. asting gratitude, and when, through his nerve x Who, when adversity fell upon Carl Brandt.and | At length she ascended the steps of a small, | 204 skill, he saved your sister from being = © he went to prison, had not forgotten little Flo- | but respectable-looking brick house, and taking | dashed to pieces, and received a clerkship in a Tette, but sought her out in her sorrow, and | from her pocket a key entered the door, giving | the bank, he little dreamed that it was to serve | urged upon her the advisability of making an | one glance up the street as she did so, and her | 88,2 catspaw for your crime. i 7 effort to support herself. quick eye detecting the two carriages. Helen Boyd, you shall not talk tome thus,” Tip had heard her sing and suggested that she | " Standing in the shadow of the parlor curtains | the man said, with fierce anger. ire. become a street songstress, for she played the Guitar well; but J icksey had said: ona” won’t do; s’pose yer git a paper- _And then the “ Professor” had come to her aid with the suggestion that she should keep a boarding-house; and thus it was that Florette became the fair hostess of Tip, Jicksey & Co., and numerous others whom their ‘kindness brought to her little home. CHAPTER VIII. % TRACKED. 7 By the Goddess of Beauty! who is that an- &el in petticoats, Prince?” © speaker was Colonel Brete Castleton, and he was walking arm-in-arm with Burton Prince, and, slowly sauntering along, they were admir- ing the throng of lovely women and fashionable men upon Broadway, enjoying the balmy air of an early spring afternoon. she watched, and, as the first coupé drew up at the door she said, simply: ‘‘T knew he would come; but who is the other?” As though to answer her question the second vehicle drove rapidly by, as Burton Prince was ushered into the hallway by a servant girl. ‘Ah! it is the man I met in the prison, com- ing from poor Brandt’s cell. Now to meet Satan,” she said, scornfully, and listening, she heard the dialogue between her visitor and her servant, ‘“You say that Miss Helen Boyd does not live here?” he asked. ‘*She does not, sir.” “May I ask the name of the lady who does reside here?” and he seemed puzzled, ‘Mrs. Burton, sir.” ‘* Ah! would you kindly take my card to her?” The servant did as requested, and soon re- turned and ushered the visitor into the parlor. cfrom you, for you boldly imply—” : ‘ “That you, to cover certain heavy losses at. _ ‘‘Ha! ha! a keen knife of truth will penetrate even the rhinoceros hide that envelops your heart, it seems! Oh, Burton Prince, why did you sacrifice that poor boy?” tions.” ; ‘‘T will make them more plain; in a dress of deep mourning, with my face concealed by a long vail, I attended Brandt’s trial, heard his © confession of guilt, and knew that he was tell- ing a falsehood, for some reason, but why, one in tLut crowded court-room could under- stand besides himself; I heard your testimony of hoyyyou had counted that money, left it in tha safe, and given the keys to Brandt, who % ; often carried them over night for you. ‘* Well, he was sentenced, of course, and, I re- i b ‘ peat it, the real thief esca “ Helen, I will not li d.” m to such “T repeat, I do not understand your insinua- } cage Ve ’ \ ~AP language ‘ * i ie ee Often the two gentlemen raised their hats to There befote him, more beautifuland queenly | f@ro, took that money, and laid our plans, so | onde Some lady friend, or nodded pleasantly to a | than ever, stood the woman he had cruelly de- | ®5 to have the blame fall on Brandt. (te hale acquaintance, and they were just turning | serted, and her eyes were fixed upon him with Bosh! do you think any man would be such) into Union Square when they came upon a Vision of beauty that could not fail to attract marked admiration upon any promenade. The lady in question, and who had drawn the ©xclamation from the colonel’s lips, was a bril- lant brunette, who, with superb carriage, stylish an fe sha ge that checked his advancing step, and drove the deceitful smile from his lips, while in tones that were full of meaning she said, calmly: ** Burton Prince, we have met again.” a fool as to sacrifice himself, become a convict — for five long years, from some false idea of sen- timental friendship?” “J sacrificed myself, and will be as wretched as a convict, for all the years of my life, from a sentimental friendship for you, Burton Prince.” ' a nd d msive toilet, made with perfecs: taste : The retort hit him hard, and he looked down, & pit orn as though a. part of herself, was walk- CHAPTER IX. but tes aeey: oe ea Sig BE SS 8 Sh ere meyer roanettle ee oie OP et aon your wild ideas vounrdin yin Heep ity of Ss Scious that she si ye Pi pets of Tn tot “Anp is this my greeting; Helen, after long | purloining money from the bank, when yot ’ and drew behind her, as a ship does a swell in low water, half a dozen “curled darlings,” eager to know who and what the beautiful anger was. months of separation?” ‘ Burton Prince threw all the fascination of which he was capable into his yoice and look, for he saw that he had a dangerous woman to ow that Brandt confessed to the guilt,” ‘‘T admit his confession; but why did he not confess what he did with the money? upon that subject he was silent.” 88 ae * Moa it At th deal with. ‘*Oh, he has hidden 1t away to use when he i Prince oh eg hmmeah ar ee aster id ene doe “You may thank my love of self, sir, that I | comes ‘out; had it not been for his pivediy g Bey: tore merey of . that made his own flush and | donot meet you with a thrust at your coward guilty and throwing himself upon the | then blanch Writer Bb AREA hens gs : Ne - A r f si ; , heart,” she said, passionately. ow ie oe £ ~*~ ay iy F Fx ‘ Jey | a ne) Aa) 4
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1) ee Le ’ ; 8 a . pe / the court, his term of imprisonment would have been much longer.” “Tt is long enough, God knows, and it will break his noble heart, I fear; but, now that I know you, Burton Prince, les me warn you to , keep clear of my path, for I intend to dwell here now, and if you cross me in the slightest way you will regret it.” Another hope seized him, for he was now des- er a soa and ruin him, and he said: ‘Helen, do not let us part in anger—nay, more, let me again take you to my heart as my wife. . v So Ne bf - Thy Castleton, there must be some move made in this matter before another year, or those losses will be discovered.” ‘¢ Ah! well, how would De Vigne do, for Ge- raldine?” “He has only a fifth interest in the firm, I learn.” ‘That is not inconsiderable, when the firm is worth millions; better take up De Vigne and drop Prince, for one is a clever fellow, and the ‘Like yourself, the latter, eh?’ **Oh, no, I play to win; but, who is that dark- faced man, yonder?” ‘The one with Berta Ivey, now?” “cc Yes. »” “ Ah, that is Basil Trevor, the artist.” ‘‘Indeed! he has won quite a name of late years, and his pictures are in good demand; but bought a gem of his, at Goupil’s, last week.” ‘He has the reputation of being rich, but I do not believe any one knows what he is worth, or much about bim. ‘* We met him at Long Branch last season, for ou remember he saved Geraldine from drown- ing in the surf, and we became quite intimate, and yet we knew little regarding him; in fact, he is a mystery to me,” “Well, keep your eye upon him, for your daughter loves him, my dear Mrs Ear].” ‘* Nonsense! how can you tell?” “‘T saw a glance between them; now, look, he has gone over and claimed her for a dance without a word passing between them. I fear, Victoire, you are losing your perceptive pow- ers, aS age creeps on apdce,” and Colonel Cas- tleton, who never danced, turned away to ob- serve the different people present. After a dance with Geraldine Harl, Burton Prince sauntered leisurely about the rooms until he met Berta Ivey, the lovely girl to whom he was engaged. ‘* Ah, Berta, I have been looking for you,” he said, almost indifferently. “T could not expect to be seen when Ger- aldine Earl was near,” she answered, in a‘ tone of pique, for, in spite of his faults, which she only heard vague rumors of, Berta Ivey loved the dissipated young banker, or thought that she did. ‘* Don’t be jealous, Berta, for you know I am all your own,” he replied. He knew the nature of the girl too well to arouse her jealousy, for, although he did not love her, he yet had made up his mind to marry her, as, outside of her beauty and lovely character, she would be a golden prize, and her vast wealth would fall into his hands at a most opportune time. Just at this moment Geraldine Karl approach- ed, leaning upon the arm of the artist, Basil Trevor, a man with a face as hard to read as Egyptian hieroglyphics; but, withal, a face of rare power and fascination. “Oh, Berta, Mr. Trevor has a treat in store for us—but I beg pardon; Miss Ivey, allow me to present Mr. Trevor, the artist: Mr. Prince, Mr. Trevor.” _ Berta Ivey was glad to meet the famous artist, and frankly said so, and the gentlemen merely bowed. ‘‘ As Miss Earl has raised your anticipations, Miss Ivey, permit me to explain the treat in store,” and Basil Trevor spoke in that quiet easy way, that betokens the man wholly at home in society. ‘‘T know you will join us, Berta,” put in Ger- aldine. ‘The treat, is simply a visit to the home of the great sorceress known as the Red Witch, where the past and the future can be read for u, ‘*It will indeed be a treat, at least to me, for I have nothing in the past to regret, and the fuer I do not shrink from,” boldly said Berta vey. And perhaps your sister will go, Mr. Prince?” queried Geraldine. ‘‘ Ab, that reminds me that I was to present her regrets for to-night, as she is not very well; but I will answer for her going to see the Red Witch, as she dotes on such things; when will you start?” . “Tell her to-morrow afternoon, and that I shall assign Mr, De Vigne as her escort. Meet here for lunch at two, and I will get Colonel Castleton to drive us there in his four-in-hand, and we’ll take the Witch by storm.” ‘Then I shall inform her of our coming, for it is said she requires several hours to prepare herself for the task of mind-reading,” announc- ed Basil Trevor, and he begged a dance with Berta Ivey, who readily consented, glad to avoid an engagement with a bachelor admirer who had been her shadow for several years, and also proud of the chance to waltz with the t ™ 4 OF THE ST “$ Pais ae NE | rye hy 4 ’ ‘ fUsty., oe ry" ee ett pag Nah ¥ Pv ee APL Lt ee, Ree eer eee OnE Cee ee, EET.’ famous artist; but it was dangerous work for Berta, for, that night, when she laid her head upon her pillow to rest, there was a doubt in her heart whether she really loved the man she ~ had promised to marry. CHAPTER XI. 7 THE RED WITOH. Upon a bold headland, jutting out into the — Hudson, then above the city of New York, but now within its limits, a small, white-washed ~ cottage stood under the shelter of a rocky cliff. From its small porch, sheltering the front door, a grand view of the majestic river could be seen for_miles in each direction, with the lofty Jerséy Heights upon the other shore, while, in the rear, the little house was only approach- able by a narrow path leading around the crag- gy hillside, and branching off from the highy way beyond, and about two hundred yards distant. Andin this home dwelt the strange woman known as the Red Witch, and who, a few _ months before, had appeared in New Yui. , sought out the little cottage asan abiding-place, and drawn attention to herself by an advertise- ment in the Herald to the effect that; “Madam Zaidah, the Bast Indian Mind Reader, would make known the Pus/, aud foretell the future, to all those who wished to test her wonderful pow- ers, and learn of that which was kept hidden frdéin all mortals, not gifted with the magic art of reading the stars, and the signs that were stamped indelibly upon the human face and hands.” This advertisement readily caught the atten- tion of many, and those who had listened to her words, and felt her strange power, had been deeply impressed, and believing that she was akin to Satan, had called her the Red Witch. Upon the afternoon following the entertain- ment at Mrs, Earl’s, an old negress sat in front of the cottage, smoking a long reed contentedly, and, though gazing out upon the beautiful ex- panse before her, seemed not admiring its beauty. At her feet crouched a huge, savage- looking dog, to whom ‘“‘ distance lent enchant- ment” in the minds of many a wandering ur- chin, whose curiosity caused him to wish for a closer inspection of the domains of the Red Witch. A few feet from the negress, and seated be- neath the shelter of a scrub-oak, was an Ethi- opian, deformed to such an extent that he seem- ed hardly human, for his head was the size of a giant’s and his stature not more than five feet. His mouth was large in the extreme, and his bead-like eyes were set away back under his shagey brows; his legs were as short as a child’s, and his arms as long as those of a man over six feet tall. Both he and the negress were dressed in bright red flannel trimmed with black, and around their necks, upon their arms, and from their ears and noses hung gold trinkets and charms, from rattlesnake tails to cat’s claws. A parrot, a black cat, a devilish-faced mon- key and a large snake, squatted and 1 ing upon the ground, completed this remarkable picture, if we except a black caldron, hanging from Gipsy sticks, which was full of some vile-look- ing stuff, which, as it simmered over a slow fire, spread forth a delicious perfume, Presently the dog sprung to his feet with a sharp yelp, and the negress and the dwarf at once turned their eyes toward the highway. where a stylish four-in-hand turnout ha Se up opposite the path leading to the cot- age. i _A few moments after there was a party of eight persons visible approaching the cabin, but the dog, as though content with baying given his warning, lay down to rest once more, leay- ing it to the negress to welcome the visitors, s they approached the party was recogniz- able as the one made up the evening hatte only with the addition of Colonel Castleton and. Mrs, Harl. Slowly ae approached, the artist, Basil Trevor, and epentiiea Earl in advance, and they soon came upon the strange scene in front of the cottage, when Marion Prince, who was with Harvey De Vigne, a handsome young man of twenty-eight, called out: “ What a picture for your brush, Mr. Tre- vor. ‘‘No one would believe it real, Miss Prince; but now, to see the Red Witch, for this looks like the black one, certainly.” “Old Meg Merrillies in ebony,” suggested Berta [vey. They were all now standing in: front of the group of negroes, cat and dog, and keeping an anxious eye upon the snake and monkey; but — not one of the strange family had taken thus. far the slightest notice of the visitors, and Bur- ton Prince called outi . ed
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| Basil T hf Mya ’ a6 Speak to them, Trevor, for we will unani- ously appoint you spokesman.” Ra The motion’ is seconded,” cried Geraldine arl, gayly, and all the rest called out: id carried.” Bowing with mock dignity to his friends, f revor at once stepped forward and con- Tonted the negress and the dwarf, and, to the t rise. of his companions, placed his hands + a his forehead and turned around three mes slowly, Pm hg effect upon the blacks was like magic, for the?” broke from their lips, and the next instant y had thrown themselves upon the ground fore the artist, their faces buried in the dust elle the strange pets, that heretofore ha So inactive, even to the loathsome snake, “rept closer to the young man, and formed a Semhicircle around him. ith surprise, and even with awe, the visit- Ors looked on, while Colonel Castleton whisper- cd, so all might hear: ‘Trevor knows their fetish signs and has won em over; see, they worship him.” The two Ethiopians now raised their heads three times, pressed their hands upon their fore- eads, and again bowed to the dust, while the dwarf mumbled out some words in a hoarse Voice, and struck the ground three times with is heavy fist. : - Instantly the snake reared its head and hissed, and then slowly moved toward Basil Trevor, While the Ethiopians in a low, wailing voice be- 8an to chant, at the same time accompanying hemselves by shaking bones together. “Great God! it is their test ceremony! If Trevor's nerve fails him now heis gone,” cried rvey De Vigne, who, when a naval officer Upon the African coast, had seen the strange Worship of the natives. i Nearer crept the huge snake, until it reached the feet of the artist; but he stood unflinching- ‘Y, his hands clasped upon his forehead, while i dismay, and with white faces, all were Watching the awful ordeal through which he ad to pass. “That man has a nerve of iron,” said Colonel astleton, in a whisper, and every eve was up- On Basil Trevor, who joined in the wild chant With the negroes. uce around the leg of the artist wound the reptile, and then he began to draw his shiny Olds upward, while the chant grew louder, and he bones were rattled more vigorously to- ðer, Up still higher went the snake, until his head Was upon a level with the heart of Basil Trevor, and his loud hiss was heard above the singing, if the sounds that came from the lips of the thiopians might be called such. ben the artist ceased chanting, and in his stead the dog took up the refrain, howling dis- Mally, until a score of urchins, who had gather- ®din the distance, turned and scattered home In fright. And next the cat joined in with sharp whines the parrot croaked, and the monkey uttered {elping squeals, until it would have been a re- lef to have been transferred to the orgies of andemonium. But, prong all, Basil Trevor’s nerve never failed, though had he glanced at the group of friends watching him, he would have seen how great was their torture, for Geraldine Earl had Sunk upon the ground, almost in a stupor with fright; and yet none dare move now, or speak aloud, as Harvey De Vigne had whispered that it would be fatal to the brave artist. ,And up still higher crept the loathsome rep- tile, unti his open jaws confronted the face of asil Trevor, and their eyes met; but the man held the snake at bay with his glance, and sud- ®nly the wailing of the negroes and the noise of the beasts and parrot ceased. dead silence of a moment followed, pre- Senting a horrible, sickening tableau, and then the reptile yielded to the greater power in the man’s eye, and, uncoiling his slimy folds, drop- bed heavily to the earth, while the negroes now rept grovelingly to the artist’s feet, touching €ir lips to them. T word in their own language from Basil revor, and they arose and backed away, while, With a light laugh, the artist turned toward his ‘ends, and, pointing to the door of the cot- &, cried: yonebolal The Red Witch appears before «Zh Woman stood upon the porch—a woman f ‘ad in a rich blood-red silk, which was trimmed ‘om neck to skirt with natural flowers, of Purest white, |,, Around her neck was a chain of rubies, and parc her arms were diamond bracelets, every Sot. slittering brilliantly in the declining rays. he F 'FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET. 4 ey of the sun, while around her slender Waist, serving as a belt, was a black snake, the hissing sound issuing from his open mouth proving that he was alive. ' And, though thus strangely attired and adorned, the woman was more strange in face, for every feature was perfect, only her com- plexion was scarlet, as though stained with car- mine, presenting a wonderful contrast to the braids of snow-white hair that were wound round her head like a crown, and held in place by butterflies, that had the appearance of be- ing alive. “Yes, Zaidah I am, and called the Red Witch; who are you, bold man, that has dared face the Evil Spirit of the Jungle, and unites in the forms of the Mountain Fetish?” She stretched forth her hand toward Basil Trevor as she spoke, and her voice was strange- ly soft and musical. The reply of the artist was in an unknown ae, oF ut it made an impression at once, for the Red Witch said simply: “Come! thou and thy friends; Zaidah gives you welcome,” CHAPTER XII. THE PAST AND THE FUTURE, THE cottage, into which the woman, who called herself Zaidah, ushered her visitors, com- prised four rooms, three of them small, and one large, which latter they entered, taking seats upon each side of a dais, in the center of the chamber, the ladies being eee upon one side, she men upon the other, after the old style in churches. The dais was of black, and in the center was a red urn, out of which came a curl of blue smoke, emitting a fragrance through the room. Having seated her visitors, the Red Witch said, in a clear voice, at the same time turning her piercing black eyesupon each one, as though to read their thoughts: ‘*Have gb come here in mockery, or with faith that I can make known the secrets of the past, as well as prophesy what you will pass through in the future?” ‘*We come, oh, gracious Zaidah, in no spirit of mockery, but to know from thy lips, that which to us ungifted mortals lies hidden,” said Basil Trevor, for, by common consent, he was leit to answer the questions asked. ‘Then thou darest not first learn what I can foretell by what I can reveal of the past?” said the woman, scornfully; but, with a reckless laugh, the artist answered: **T dare do anything, fair Queen of Mystery, and you can lay my past before us like an open book; but, that I kndw, and would see, rather, what the future has in store for me; but first, let me consult my friends as to their wishes.” ‘We all know what has happened, so let us know what is to come,” said Colonel Castleton, and the woman turned quickly upon him: “By what I speak truly of — , Colo- nel Brete Castleton, you may judge of my power of reading the future.’ In spite of his self-control the man’s face paled, as he exclaimed in surprise: **'You know my name then?” ‘“‘'Yes, I know more,” and without another word she threw herself down in front of the red vase, and instantly flames ascended out of its depths, while, in a sweet, wild voice, she chant- ed forth, rather than spoke: **T see a home on England’s far shores. It is a grand old structure, and two children play around its marble stairway. These children are brothers, and the titleand wealth of an old name must fall upon one of them, the eldest; the other, the younger, must become an ad- venturer. Years pass, and a ship goes down at sea; buta boat lives through the storm, and in itare four persons; two are men, the other two are women, and the hearts of two are evil.” ‘‘Enough, woman! I have had sufficient of thy wild music in my favor,” and, white and stern, Colonel Castleton arose from his seat. Instantly the chanting ceased, and in her natural voice the Red Witch asked: ‘Would Victoire Earl have me continue?” ** No, for the love of God, no!” ’ All were startled by the sudden, beseeching ery of Mrs. Earl, and turned upon her in sur- prise, while Basil Trevor came to the rescue with: ‘‘ Beautiful Queen of Mystery, there are two of our number who care not to know of the past, or the futurs, for they have arrived at that age when they have commenced descending the other side of the hill of life; turn then, I beseech thee, to those who stand upon the threshold of the future; that lady, for instance.” and he ~\ ‘ ‘ . 9: pointed to Geraldine, who, with a slight shud- der, said: “Yes, let me know the future, please.” “Would you have me recall the past?” “Oh, yes.” ‘*No, no, Geraldine, let the dead past bury its dead; tell her of the future, madam, for the past we know,” said Mrs. Earl, quickly. ‘The future then be it,” and the woman threw herself upon the dais, or altar, and once more the flames ascended, while in the same sweet tones she sung: ‘‘Thou lovest, and he whom thou dost love is*’ both brave and keen of wit, or else thou wouldst. be defrauded of thy birthright, for thou hast bitter enemies. “Thou wilt have joy and thou wilt have sor-- row; but be brave, be strong, and thy enemies shalt not trample thee under foot, which they will do, if thou art weak and yielding.” She arose from her recumbent position, hay-- ing finished her her eye fell upon Burton Prince, and she said,, softly: o- Shall I read thy past and present?” He quailed beneath her look, but said, quickly: ‘Tell me one thing of the past and I will an- apa ee upon the altar, and once more her clear voice was heard: : ; ‘Burton Prince, beware of the future, for fas past didst begin in evil, for I read of an un- holy love that began in a scene far from the strife of city life; but it has its toils around thee’ now to destroy thy soul.” ‘Hold! I would know nothing more, for I see that in my case thy art has fi ,’ cried Bur- ton Prince, but the color had gone from his face nevertheless, and her response made it abe for she sung forth, without raising her ead: “Thy heart gives the lie to thy lips, Burton Prince, and the name of Helen Boyd is engraven on thy guilty soul.” J Again did Basil Trevor come to the rescue, saying, quickly: ‘Thou art a sad croaker, oh Queen of Mys- tery ; let in some ray of suushine upon us.” ‘*Man and woman are alike; they clutch the sunshine and shadow of life as they please, for their own acts shape their destinies,” was the calm reply. ‘Tell me of the past, my friend,” and Harvey De Vigne stepped forward, and once more she bowed before the dais and chanted forth: “One thou lovest lics in a dismal cell: didst thou property, sift the cause that sent him there?” “Great:God! she means Carl Brandt; he was found guilty of robbing the bank and confessed the crime.” “The name of guilt was ken from his lips, but never written on his heart,” sung the woman. 50 pod “Ah, a sin of the head and not the heart; thus many are led astray without intending: wrong,” was the answer of the and then he resumed: “You are a wonderful reader, madam; now tell me of the future.” ‘‘ There is a plot against you, and you are not what you seem, for there are wheels within wheels wanking. evil that will affect you more than you can dream.” Harvey De Vi words, and turn then hear more. Steppin e seemed impressed velvet-covered dais, Marion Prince said in a clear tone: ‘* Who am I, madam, that addresses you?” “The sister of thy most unworthy brother,” came the quick retort, and the shot struck home, for Burton Prince breathed a curse half- ~ aloud, while the Red Witch continued: “‘ And thou art more; thou art thy own true , “ ; and noble self, Marion Prince, and so remain until the pall of death is drawn above thee.” “Ttbank you,” and Marion Prince spoke jn G8 earnest tones, At a motion from Basil Trevor, Berta Ivey ‘ hesitatingly approached, “ And who now stands by thy side, Priestess. vs , of Mystery?” asked the artist. **Qne who has been offered as a sacrifice upom path » i; Berta shuddered, involuntarily turning her . ya the altar of love. Let her shun the traced out for her to follow.” Seg for Geraldine, and. uickly behind the prostrate wo- ; man, for she had not raised her head from the ser young banker; eyes upon the man to whom she was en ged, 8 and whom for the third time the Red Witch . | had abe a thrust. : < hoe ‘Well, I alone remain, madam,” and Basil Trevor knelt beside the woman, who saidina voice of deep feeling: ; 1 ie “ ° and i. P } ¥ 4 ey 4 WEE by Ber sr 2a away as though he could not a
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: “With thee, Basil Trevor, I will let the dead past bury its dead; but the future thou canst } make it what thou wilt.” “T thank you, and shall follow thy advice; here, in the name of us all, permit me to place upon this dais a souvenir of our coming,” and he ; aid a handful of gold before her. ha Instantly she was upon her feet, her burning y reyes fixed upon him, while she cried: oe “Keep thy gold, for the Idol of Mystery ac- -cepts not treasure from one who knows the rc Fetish faith. Farewell.” _. She placed the gold within his hand, and backed gracefully from the room, disa pearing “behind a heavy black curtain, upon which was bs vembroidered in red a representation of Me- ‘phistopheles. ; Impressed by their visit, the party left the cottage, the two Ethiopians bowing low before Basil Trevor as he passed them, and almost in silence they drove homeward, feeling in their ete own hearts that the woman was rightly called cas the Red Witch. Ne) CHAPTER XIIl. j LOST. THERE was consternation in the home of Florette, for the girl hostess had suddenly dis- appeared, and her now numerous boarders lin- ered until alate hour around her door, wait- ee es eit to bed. d breakfast-time came, and again the boarders assembled to wonder at her strange absence, and to talk over the cause. at “Guess she’s been made matron 0’ some tony hotel,” suggested Will Terrill, the cat doctor, a ; youngster of fourteen, as ugly as he was mis- * — __ chievous, and who had won his title of feline M. Bie D. from the fact that he charmed cats to come into his grasp, and then bagged them. What -he did with his captures only the Mercer street ‘ French restaurant-keepers could tell. AR As Will Terrill had skulked around large hotels, in his legitimate calling, or ‘ perfes- \ sion,” as he called it, he had frequently seen the » \ “matron” of the vast caravanserais, and hence his idea that Florette had become the super- * visor of chambermaids and scrub-girls. Be, “ Guess she wouldn’t go there, when she was _ doin’ well here; she tole me she had laid up fif- i teen‘dollars,” remarked Jicksey, who always de- sired to be considered on the best of terms with his fair hostess, and had already laid out a ro- Fa ae ie ea » . +~=mantie attachment to be indulged in by him B when he grew another foot, and added several bod more years to his age, forgetting that while , Florette would be a woman; but of Sa? etl 'a. this circumstance boys of thirteen, and boys in love seldom think, as all of us who have been _. . boys, kind reader, well know, if we will for a d moment recall our past lives. » _ . “Tm a-thinkin’ she’s shook us, and gone and i been married,” prophesied Tip, and from long ; ractice he dodged a blow aimed at him by ms dy, the Bulldog, who retorted: - ied, yer grandmother! Why she’s but a chick o’ a child; you newspaper men is allus tryin’ ‘to git up some sensation to fool folks with. «But the thought is worthy of belief, seeing as Florette is a female, and from the cradle to ’ the coffin no one knows how to calculate upon a woman. *¢11] note it down in my book, and if Florette turns not up within the day, the world shall learn of her strange departure,” and Professor Romeo Tannhamer took out his note-book and _. began to scribble, while the others, who ad- ~ mired arg ie rae how lowly, watched him with marked respect. ; “You is all afther making fools of yez, stand- ___— im’ here with yer mouths wide open, when the ty poor girl is likely in trouble; out upon yez, ye spalpeens, for hun vagabonds waitin’ a feedin’, when poor Florette may be this blessid ; minute at the bottom of the say,” and Mrs. O'Gorman opened her door for the twentieth ' ‘time that morning and faced them. This time all seemed to feel that she advanced /a new idea, and that perhaps Florette had in- deed gotten into some trouble, or, what was worse, might bedead, ; ‘ _ ** Let’s go an’ look her up,” cried Jicksey, and “all seemed to be ready to start at once, when '. Professor Romeo called them back. ty ..“ Hold! spring not forth like hounds on a '_. false trail, from joy of being freed from the gh, upon the collar, but have wisdom in thy search; for instance, the fair Florette was last geen after the mid-day meal, and she went forth, leaving with Mrs. O’Gorman her key; how, what member of our happy family, or in x other words, that hither comes for hash, hast { } a ¥ g for her return, until compelled at last to go. - FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET. not been seen here assembled for supper, or for breakfast?” ‘The Italian, Pietro,” called out Tip. ‘**Yes, he ‘hain’t been seen since dinner yes- beens and he were awful reg’lar at his feed,” added J icksey. ‘““Then who knows the abiding place of Pietro Avilla, the Italian?’ asked the Professor. None knew where he worked, though he had often been seen upon the streets, and, when not grinding an organ under a window, was sup- posed to be working in a piano manufactory. A week only had he been a boarder with Florette, and he had quite won the admiration of his fellow-boarders by his fine singing after supper in the evening, when it was a habit for all to remain for an hour or so. And he had spoken of Florette’s voice, and said there was a fortune in it, while he seemed delighted to give her lessonsin singing and upon the guitar. One day he had strolled to the little boarding- house and asked to get his meals there, paying promptly in advance, and this was all that was own of Pietro the Italian. Now he was missing, and so was Florette, and the boarders put their heads together and de- cided that the Italian had kidnapped the young girl. ‘Our duty is plain, my friends; we must find Pietro the Italian, and force from him the truth; now, as thy duties call thee not to office and to desk, hie thee upon the search,” and with a yell at the words of the Professor, Baldy and his youthful fellow-boarders started forth upon the trail to look for the lost girl, whom they had all become devotedly attached to. And watching them from a window on the other side of the street was a man with dark face and fiery black eyes and a cunning smile upon his lips as he muttered: ‘¢ Americano people fools; no sense like Italiano; Pietro know what to do, and have mucha monee yet some time.” Without saying more he drew a false beard over his face and strolled leisurely out of the house, nearly running over Professor Romeo Tannhamer as he crossed the street, failing to recognize in the disguised individual jostling against him the man of all other men that he just then wished to find, CHAPTER XIV. CAUGHT IN THE TOILS, Tux day before the disappearance of Florette from her duties of ‘‘ boarding-house marm,” the Italian, Pietro Avilla, was sauntering along the street with his hand-organ, when he met a boy who asked him if he did not board with the sis- ter of the convict, Carl Brandt. ‘Yes, me liva there; what you want knowa for?’ answered the Italian, suspiciously. ** A gentleman wishes to see you, and told me to show you where he is.” * Whata he want?” suspiciously asked Pietro. ‘*He hasa job for you, I guess, and he looks able to pay,” said the boy, who was one of that class who are ever in the street, though they ihe homes where their parents should keep them. ‘*Me goa; if he harma me, me will killa you,” responded Pietro, whose conscience was not at rest, and consequently caused him to dread evil to himself for bygone crimes, The boy seemed alarmed at the threat of the Italian, but having been promised a snug fee to go on his errand, be concluded to take the chances, and conducted Pietro a few blocks, un- til he turned into a hallway, upon the doorway of which was a sign which read: “LOUIS LIVINGSTONE, “ ATTORNEY AT Law. ‘* Special Business Attended to.” ‘‘ Ah! me knowa him,” assured the Italian, and he ascended the steps to the office without hesitation. we In his private office sat Louis Livingstone, a shrewd-faced man of forty-eight or fifty, and one well known as a lawyer greatly sought af- ter in all criminal cases, for he could browbeat a judge, and deceive a jury by his wit and bom- bast ast. ‘Ah, Pietro, I am glad you have come, Boy, here is your fee, and don’t let me catch you hanging around my door again, or I'll send you up asa ve hee 0 was lawyer phe i yg Aa warning, and the frightened boy hastily left the room, “Well, Pietro, what have you been doing with yourself since I cleared you of that mur- der case, which, if ever a man deserved to hang for, you did,” and the lawyer smiled blandly, as though he had paid his visitor a compliment. ‘*Me worka hard, maka something to eata, lika honest man,” “Don’t you find it hard to be honest, and kind of wish you had a little stroke of business that would pay a hundred or so?” **Oh, yes! sz, signor, me lika mona.” ‘‘ What fool don’t? Well, you are boardin with the sister of Carl, the convict, I see,” an the lawyer referred to a book of addresses. ‘Si, signor; she mucha good girl,” ‘* Well, she happens to be in the way of some parties who have money, and I wish to see her, so give her this card and tell her to call to-mor- row afternoon; and you be here, too, for I wish your aid.” **Me helpa you.” ‘“‘Hven to cutting a throat, if I ask it?” “‘Monna are good; Pietro love monna,” was the non-committal answer. ““T don’t care to have you use that vile knife of yours, but I will tell you what I do wish, and you must have your wits about you so as to make no mistake.” ‘* Pietro is not fool.” “‘So I believe; but now to business, for I tell tne this girl must be kept out of the way, not led, you know, but her identity destroyed.” ‘Moe knowa; make Italian girl of her.’ ‘Just the thing; but how, seeing that she is an American?’ ‘Me dye hair black; eyebrow, eyelash, too, and stain face; she make good Italian girl.” “Doubtless, under your care,” dryly said the lawyer; then he continued: ‘‘Make her what you please, only in some way keep her away from every one who knows ieee could find her out; now, how can you do this? ‘Me tella her brother want her to give up boarding-house, and goa with me, to sing; make mucha monna for him, when he come out pris- on; she hava fine voice, pla; itar.” “Very well; I will urge it upon her, telling her that you are in search of witnesses who swore falsely against her brother, and that if she is au paeed o be dead and her brother in rison, I can take steps to have all come right in he end, and her love for the convict will make her consent,” 5 “‘Oh, yes, she do mucha for him; how mucha ou give me?” “1 thought that would be the next question. Well, I am doing this for another person, with my fees my only personal interest, and I will find out to-day how much he is willing to put up for the job, and you shall know to-morrow.” ‘‘Me bea here; hava girl also,” and the Italian took his leave, while the lawyer arose and paced the floor, muttering half aloud: “JT must get at the bottom of his motive for wishing to get rid of the girl, for it is a deep one. / “TI wonder if he is really guilty of the rob- bery himself, and fears the girl knows him to be, and thus wishes to get her out of the way? ‘Well, I will fathom it out, or I’m less keen than I am said to be. Ab, Mr. Linwood! am delighted to see you,” and lawyer Livingstone turned and | pe ge a young man who just then entered, and whose elegant attire and pleasant address did not hide the look of dissatisfaction stamped indelibly upon his otherwise good-look- ing face. ri ‘I have called, Mr. Livingstone, to beg of pes another loan,” said the young man, hesita- ingly. Pah, you are going it strong, Ellis; better let up, for pay day is bound to come,” remarked the lawyer, blandly. as Pay-day has come, and that is why I come you. “ Tt seems eebea that one who has your sal- ary, as Assistant Treasurer of the Apex Insur- ance Company, should need so much extra money to spend; you must gamble, Linwood, though it is none of my business.” ‘I do play an occasional game, sir, with Colo- nel Castleton, Prince and others; but I have other bad habits, which I need not mention, but which draw upon me ph : ‘“‘No wife, though before long I hope you will have; no one dependent upon you for money, oF that is with a legitimate claim upon you, ani et spending an average of twot ousand dol- ars a month! Why, Bella and myself were saying only yesterday, that you were going it rather strong.” ‘“* And how is your daughter, sir?” ‘Oh, very well; but, why have you not bee# ; round?” **T. intended calling to-night; but can you oblige me with some funds?” “* How much do you want?” s
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my thousand for six ping eat eas ew! you are going it strong; a large sum, Ellis.” _.. “I know it, sir; but I ne within that time my father will die, for he is getting very feeble, you know, and I will then have plenty of money,” said the heartless young man. “Oh, I know that the old man is rich, and ‘that you are his heir, and I suppose I must oblige you, vitae I am a littleshort. Can’t you take it out of the company’s treasure-box?” _ Ellis Linwood hesitated, and, as though divin- ing the cause, the lawyer continued: “Well, well, Pll let you have it, for I su se jt is to pay back what you have already orrowed from the company, you need this money for, so as to keep accounts square. Let me see, I have your note now for two thousand, due in ten days.” “‘T'll throw that in with the other, and, count- ing interest, will make it eight thousand for six months.” ‘* Allright; here is a blank, and here is your other note to tear up.” Ellis Linwood _ hastily filled in the note and Signed it, when the lawyer said, casually: **And your indorser?” “Do you mean I must get it indorsed?” “Oh, yes, merely aga form, you know.” *“T’ll indorse a eae name, as I transact his business, you know.” *“Yos, £ know, but, never mind his. name— ah, I have it, just write the name of the Apex pomeeay across it, and that will be sufficient.” “But, you know, the Chief Treasurer indorses for the firm, Mr. Livingstone.” ‘All the same, I will take your indorsement, and it will be only asa matter of form, for the note shall not leave my safe—there, that isright —thank you,” and the lawyer placed the note away among his valuable papers, paid the mo- ney to the young spendthrift, and bade him pleemeton Ellis Linwood having promised to dine with him that day, for he had quite an admiration for Bella, the lawyer’s very pretty daughter: hen the door closed behind his visitor, Lew- is Livingstone rubbed his hands gleefully to- ether, and said: “Now, my reckless young millionaire, I have you in my power, and if you don’t marry my daughter you shall wear a felon’s suit, or my name is not Livingstone—ha! ha! ha! Robert Linwood, when the woman I loved twenty-five years ago, discarded me for you, Iswore re- nee and I will yet have it, for you will be dead, your son will inherit your wealth, and marry my daughter, and then he shall go to pris- on, and his wife will have his wealth. Ah, Law- yer Livingstone, you are indeed worthy of the great name you have won,” and the man smiled as sweetly as though he had just done some noble deed instead of plotted the ruin of a reck- less young spendthrif t, with more good looks than brains. CHAPTER XV. A CHILD OF THE STREETS, Berra Ivey sat alone in her beautifully fur- nished rooms, her thoughts none of the pleasant- ath if one might judge by the frown upon her row. ‘Oh, why did I pledge myself to marry Bur? ton Prince?” she exclaimed, impatiently, and rising, she paced the floor with slow, deliberate tread, after a moment, thinking half aloud: “J did think I loved him; but it was only a lish fancy, begun years ago, and, urged by the wish of my father, I have now promised to marry him; but, oh, what a lot will be mine— loving one man and forced into the home of an- other as his wife. “But, dare I not break off this match? No, no, for m oa old father has set his heart upon it, disbelieving every report about Bur- ton’s wildness, and better his happiness than mine, for he has been a dear, noble parent to me. Hark! what asweet voice! Canthat be a common street singer?” She stepped to the window and drew aside the curtain, when, upon the pavement, her eyes raised to the upper stories, stood a young girl Singing, her hands crossed upon her bosom. tig at a beautiful face, and how sweet her Singing, in spiteof her accent,” said Berta Ivey, gazing with renewed interest upon the song- Stress, who was dressed in the garb of an Italian Sema girl, while, just behind her stood a dark- aced man playing an accompaniment upon a harp, with a skillful and master touch. . And; still upward to the window floated the _ Sweet strains, the girl singing with a pathos _. ‘that was impressive, when she sung some touich- ss ¢ 3 FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE f ing ballad, and a naiveté that was bewitching when caroling forth a lively air. Going to the bureau, Berta took a gold-piece, and, rolling it in her embroidered handkerchief. threw it down upon the pavement, the Italian hastily ae yee it up and handing it to the young girl, who slightly bowed her haught head, and then turned and walked away, fol- lowed by her companion, bearing his harp. Still watching them Berta saw a carriage roll up to the door, and from it descend a lady whom she did not remember to have seen be- ore. “Mrs. Helen Burton; who can she be?” she said, reading the tiny, gilt-edged card. “‘ T never saw her before, miss; but she asked to see you,” answered the servant. “*Say I will soon be down, It may be Bur- ton’s aunt, of whom I have heard him speak,” and, having arranged her toilet, she descended the broad stairway and glided into the parlors. ‘* Mrs. Burton, I believe,” she said, politely, and the 0 praca ge woman before her fairly startled her, for never had she gazed upon a face so brilliantly lovely or a form so perfect. ‘“Yes, Miss Ivey, and I regret to say that I have not come upon a pleasant mission; but it is my duty to save you from future remit ‘Pray, madam, explain yourself, for I can- not understand,” said Berta, trembling with a feeling of coming evil. “Tn a word I will; take the warning of a wo- man who bas loved unworthily and do not mar- ry Burton Prince!” ‘*‘ Ah! what know you of Mr. Prince, madam, that you give me such a warning?” and the maiden was tempted to resent the advice offer- ed. by Helen Boyd. *] know that he is a man without honor; a gambler, a roué, and who will marry you sim- ply to get possession of your vast wealth,” re- sponded Helen, firmly. “This is a severe charge to make against Mr. Prince, and without proof.” . “The ‘proof shall be forthcoming if I am driven. to produce it. Simply sever your en- gagement with Burton Prince, and if he asks a reason, tell him to ask one’ of me; then you will see whether I have spoken the truth. Good-by, Miss Ivey, and do not idly throw aside my warning!” She swept from the room without another word, and her hand was upon the latch of her earriage-door when a gentleman a pe quick- ly gpere and raised his hat, while he said, po- ltely: “oy cannot be mistaken, for there is but one face in the world like yours. Helen turned quickly, and her face. paled as she recognized before her the man whose shot had saved her life and sent poor Edgar Monk- ton over the precipice of Lover’s Leap. “Yes, we meet again; [ told you we should. Here is my card with my address; come and see me,” and she entered her carriage with a smile of adieu that was bewitching, while the gentleman muttered: . ** Who and what you are I shall soon know, my beauty, for I like not the secret I hold on your account.” urning he ascended the massive stone steps and pulled the bell. ‘Miss Ivey is in the parlor, sir; walk in, please,” said the liveried servant. “Oh, Mr. Trevor, I am so glad to see you. Bo seated, and tell me who that beautiful wo- man is, to whom I saw you speak just now?” ‘* You ask this, and she just left your bouse, Miss Ivey? Why, I hoped to glean information upon that subject from you,” said Basil Trevor in surprise. ‘‘T never saw her until ten minutes ago, when she called upon an unpleasant duty; but are you in the habit of addressing ladies with whom you are not acquainted?” “That depends upon circumstances, my dear Miss Ivey; but I assure heat Ido not know the lady, though I admit to having met her before, over a year ago, when I was visiting the moun- tains for a few sketches and rest; I managed to save her from trouble at the hands of a fel- she is wondrous] “She is, indeed; I would like to put her face on canvas,” and his remark did not find favor in the eyes of Berta Ivey, for, to the same ex- tent ‘that she liked Burton Prince less eve time she saw him, she loved Basil Trevor ea time after seeing him, and it being really an | , \ s Ayoeey sae ‘STREET. ing over his accounts 445° wffaire de coeur, she had to drift along with the tide of her affections, let them bear her where they might, for hers was. a nature to be swayed by love to either good or bad, and already was the gall of jealousy sending its bitterness into her heart. After a pleasant visit Basil Trevor took his leave, and walked down Madison avenue, upon which handsome street was the home of Mr. Ivey, until he came to thirty-fourth street, into which he turned toward Broadway, to come suddenly upon a young girland harpist standing in front of a handsome mansion, with which he wae NOUy familiar, for it was the home of Mrs. arl, Just as he touched the steps, the yo irl began to sing, and her voice floated forinin melody that won the heart at once of the young artist, as she sung the stirring words of that well-known Italian air, “ Viva Garibaldi.” As the song finished, Basil Treyor spoke to her, addressing her in Italian; ‘* You have a superb voice for one so young, miss,” and he gazed with admiration upon the dark face, full of expression and beauty. But she returned him no answer, and the harpist said quickly, and with a show, of anger: ‘*My daughter sings, signor, not talks,” : Basil Trevor raised his arched brows in sur- prise, and retorted in Italian: ‘‘ With such a surly father, she doubtless fears to talk,” and stepping forward he placed * a dollar in the girl’s hand, and turning, entered the mansion, the door of which had been opened by Geraldine Earl, who had seen him from the parlor windows, from where she had been en- Joyin the music. ‘What a splendid voice, Mr. Trevor, for a young girl!” she said, after greeting him, “Splendid, indeed: and it isa pity to see her a mere child of the street, when she bas itin her power to become far mcre.” ‘ ““There is certainly a chance for some of 0 rich philanthropists to do good, by taking her and. educating her.” ‘* Egad, I’m half inclined to do so myself,” he answered, abruptly. ; ““Do you mean it?’ and she looked him straight in the eyes. ** Assuredly; the girl has a voice, which, if. properly trained, will make her a star on the operatic stage, and if, by expending a few hun- dred dollars, f could make her such, and bring sae koe to her life, why should I not?” q gee no reason; and you could marry her, and— “No, she is not my style; I was speakin wholly in.a philanthropical yiew, Miss Baris but come, let us drop the child of the street and j speak of something else; do you know I saw a face to-day that I would give much to be able to put on canvas?” : ‘‘ A woman’s, of course,” and Geraldine Earl felt a pang of pralonsy. in her breast. “Oh yes; all men’s faces are masked, for I oe not know one who acts out openly just what he is, while, with women, Iam more generous, as I think they are often themselves, and the face Tsaw to-day would be natural and itself, if some sorrow had not changed it.” é y Ah! who was this wonderful being, may I “That T cannot tell you; but she isa mys- tery which I intend to solve. By the way, I think Colonel Castleton has a remarkable face a study, for, as an artist, I study expression and features, and all that they mean?” ‘“He has a face I would not trust; nor doT like it.” “Indeed! I thought to the contrary, for it is rumored that you are engaged.” *‘And Madame Rumor also connects your name and mine, Mr. Trevor, in the same way, so you can judge of the truth of both, from what you know regarding ourselves,” and, though speaking indifferently, Geraldine felt in her heart a great aug of pain, for this man of splendid genius, this lion of society, had stolen from her her heart, with his fascinations and ~ dark, handsome face. : Had she then been mistaken in believing that he loved her? The thought was a sad one to contemplate; but, woman - like, she hid her misery and brought : “ A smile upon the lip While tears were in the heart,” CHAPTER XVI. HELEN’S DISCOVERY. Lawyer Livinestone sat in his office, look- and making his calcula- oe ~
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hehe ; a tesa - iat ab tions as to how much more money he made by dishonest, or “‘shady” transactions than by hhonest ones, and I regret to have to state that . there was a much larger amount to his credit from the discreditable source. “‘A lady to see you, sir,” said his “foil,” or man in the outer office, through which one had to pass to reach the great lawyer, and undergo the —e inspection of the individual who sat on ard. The simple announcement that there was a lady to see him was sufficient to make known to the lawyer that she had passed the legal senti- nel, for had she not have done so, he would ne- ver have known of her existence, that Argus- eyed individual in the outer office being the judge as to whether she should be admitted or no — ~— Putting on his sweetest smile the lawyer turned to receive his visitor, although he could observe her from a looking-glass in front of him, which reflected the door opening into the room. “Do I address Mr. Livingstone?” was asked in the sweetest tones. » You do, miss; how can I serve you?’ and the lawyer was amazed at the beauty of the woman patare im. ‘ ‘*T will tell you, sir, and I hope that all I say will remain secret.” ‘ ** Assuredly; a lawyer’s clients’ secrets are held as inviolate as his own,” was the polite re- -joinder, and the attorney winced at the quick retort; “When gold holds the key, lawyers, like auc- tion goods, go to the highest bidder.” , . This was a flank movement upon lawyer Liv- ingstone which he did not expect, and even his face flushed; but he answered reproachfully: “You are severe upon my profession, miss.” “We will not argue the aie sir, but come to business; I desire to get into my possession a young irl of fourteen, who is at present lead- g the life of a street singer, but for what mo- tive I cannot understand, or find out, for in vain have I endeavored to hold conversation with her.” ‘Well, and you wish my aid?” Yes, and will pay well for it.” “Who is this —your daughter, or sister perhaps, as you look scarcely twenty?” “She is neither, only one I would hate to have harmed in any way, for she has no pro- “tector.” ‘And you wish to become her guardian!” 4é Yes ? ““ Where can she be found?” “She sings in the streets daily; from Fourth street to Central Park, and is accompanied b an evil-faced Italian by the name of Pietro, “ Ah!” “Tt was all the lawyer said, but the inflection in the word led his visitor to feel that he knew of the girl, for she asked: **You know her, then?” “T have seen her ; sheis this Pietro’s daughter.” ‘She is not; I saw that girl and watched her face ei after day during her brother’s trial for robbing the bank of Prince & Co. and I reco er when she sung in front of m window yesterday, in spite of her wig of blac hair and stained face.” bs You would make a good detective—Miss— ‘*My name is Mrs, Burton.” “‘Thank you; you would make a good _detec- oe to penetrate that girl’s disguise as you have one. rae ae admit then that she is the girl and disguised?” “ Lawyer Livingstone was again flanked; but, having betrayed himself, he said: “Tmay as well admit that for some purpose, connected with her brother’s imprisonment, the girlis kept in disguise; I think to look up testi- mony to clear him by a pardon.” ** Nonsense! No testimony can clear him, when he has confessed his own guilt. The girl has been duped to make money for that villain- ous Italian or to be kept out of the way for some purpose Ihave not yet discovered; but I will _ yet fathom it, and get her into my possession.” ‘‘T can arrange that for you, Mrs, Burton, but it will cost money.” ‘“Name the sum.” ‘¢One thousand dollars now, and a second thousand when the girl is in your possession.” “T can go and make known to the authorities who and what the girlis, and get possession of her fora few dollars.” ' “Tyne, and thereby cause her to be put out of the way by those who now seem to wish to have her unknown.” “FLORETTE, C amount when you bring the girl to my address. | Ae ey 4 Dey Here i is.” ‘‘Very well, she shall be there to-night, and let me give you a piece of advice, for I know that the girl is wanted out of the way, even dead, so keep a close watch upon her!” “You were then acting for the person who wished her dead, it seems—the tool of a mur- derer?” said Helen Burton (as she now called herself), in a tone of withering sarcasm, “*T saved that girl’s life, my dear Mrs. Bur- ton; but, as I told you before, the secrets given a lawyer are inviolate,” and he bowed pro- foundly, to again shrink at another shot. ‘* And, as I told you before, J being the high- est bidder, get the girl into “ef pases but, so be it—bring her to me an will have the money for you,” and Helen swept from the room with the step of a queen, while lawyer Livingstone touched a bell, and said to the clerk who appeared: “Send a dozen boys out to look up Pietro, the Italian street-singer, and bring him to me.’ Then the lawyer sat down to muse, and the more he thought of Helen’s beautiful face the more,he admired her, and the morehefeared her. “She can be a beautiful devil, or an angel, just as she desires,” he muttered, and then, turn- ing once more to his papers he became engrossed in work yntil Pietro was announced. ‘* Ah, Pietro, I am glad to see you; how much money have you made with the girl in the two months that you have had her?” “She singa good, and maka mucha monna.” ‘How much?” *‘Three hundred dollar in two montha,” *“Well, I wish to buy her from you, say for five hundred dollars,and you keep what you have made out of her singing.” “No, she sees girl; keep her, and one day maka my wife.” “The devil you say! Make that little childish beauty your wife? Notif the court knows itself, my dear Pietro.” 6 black eyes of the Italian flashed fire, and he dropped his hand upon his belt, where he al- ways kept a knife hidden in the folds of his shirt; but the act did not alarm the lawyer, who said, sternly: ‘“‘None of that, you cursed maccaroni-eater, or I'll call an officer and see if your neck don’t stretch, with what I know about you. I tell ou, I want the girl, and I will make it seven undred, so that with what you have will be one thousand. Besides, I paid you a snug sum to take her.” ‘All right; giva me the monna,” said Pietro, sullenly. ** Give me the girl, then.” Me bring her,” and the Italian left the of- fice, and it was dark before he came back, and then he was alone. ‘“ Where is the girl?” ‘Me canna tell; she has gona from place.” “Pietro Avilla, I believe you are lying, and that this is a trick of yours; but I shall put the police upon her track, and if you have deceived me, I will make you dance in mid-air,” ‘*Me no deceiva; girla gona,” sullenly an- swered the Italian, * All right; go and look for her, and if you have hidden her away, remember what I tell you,” and lawyer Livingstone left his office in no amiable mood, called a carriage, and drove to the home of Helen Burton. CHAPTER XVII. JICKSEY AS A DETECTIVE. For the first few weeks atter the wily Italian had got Florette into his power, he kept an anx- ious watch for any person he thought might be dogging his steps, for he knew that he was sus- erie by the young girl’s boarders of having idnapped her. He also went with her only through the more fashionable portions of the city, where he knew such individuals as Jicksey and Baldy the Bull- dog never put in an appearance, and he was be- ginning to think that he had an easy life ahead of him, for he was paid for his charge of Flo- rette, and her beautiful voice brought in con- reece money, which of course he appropri- ated. But there was.one who accidentally came up- onthe young girl and her guardian one day, and from that moment he became their shadow, until he felt certain that inthe dark-haired, dark-skinned Italian girl he recognized Florette, the sunny-faced ‘‘ boardin’-house marm.” And this astute detective was none other than Jicksey the Bootblack, who was sunning him- self, for a wonder, on the fashionable avenues and up-town cross-streets, when he heard a voice that caused him to stop and listen. vere i ILD OF THE STREET. = 1 ~-. Pee tae 5 - sl, , f\ . ‘ ae 0) aes ‘ a ty , ‘ ' ‘ I 3 ; eres c “ et Pes f } « J pee ee ‘ ‘ j ni ‘ : ay ‘ eal ak ; Sai y vee ’ , hue \ ve aa ¥ Eo ee Ta eh ae : . D $ dere sab is ry Rigs hee AS ee tai tL bes SEP bt Alt Nr to bs el Pg MeO Ae eras ‘ - Pte eee A ee “Tee a be Te ha et eee | ee ete Wa ae Ve _ “True; I will pay you the money; the entire | It was a childish voice, and yet full of pathos rh ei oa’ iE Soha WAR, 3) a » 4 AP an WS TE ET =» zak a
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. _ they { val tet 1 Pitced th He Se 6 = no.” § ius Pd . ra. ASS Ju we PA 4 é 7 ee “/ FLORETTE, y CHILD OF THE STREET. \ Baht but you must go, for Pietro would ouif he found you here.” - ~ “I said he would chaw me up, but he'll find ‘ne tough eatin’; but, Florette, has yer gone back on ther gang?” “Oh no, and how are they all—Tip, and Baldy, and the professor, and—” “They is all well, and we boards with Mrs. O'Gorman now; but they is all lookin’ for you, for we suspected that Italian, as he’s a bad man, “nd they say he has killed two men, and more “ay he kilt his wife, but they can’t prove it, as the body wasn’t found out, yer know.” ‘Oh, Jicksey, is this true?” cried Florette, turning pale. “Tt are painful true, and he are makin’ a fool Sut o’ you, which are truer, for he hain’t goin’ ter help yer brother outo’ jail.” .*He says he will, and within the year, and I disguised myself this way, that we might act as detectives upon some people he wishes to seg’ and whom he does not wish should know is Does he treat you kind, Florette?” _ “No, and yes; he never lets me go out, ex: sept disguised and with him, and he locks me a here; but I have plenty to eat, and he teach- 3 me how to play the harp, and also how to veak French and Italian.” tHe are a glorious pard, Florette; who fiv- Sers ther duckits?” ., What, Jicksey ?” ' ( Who pockets ther chink yer make?” i¢, 2? + Pietro keeps it. “I told yer so! Come, Florette, I is not 80in’ ter leave yer here, so come home to ther ole boardin’-house, and you'll find things as yer ‘eft ‘em, for we has all paid ther rent reg’lar; be yer going with me, or must I wait here for het forrener ter stick his styletty inter me, for they all carries ’em?”? Pl go, Jicksey, for I assure you, 1 have be- Sun to doubt Pietro myself, and Iam awfully 2S te of him.” ‘ a . ” are tt ee dreadful glad you is. Whose g’itar “Mine; that is, Pietro bought it for me to Practice on.” | 2 tak’ it in.” (, Oh, no, Jicksey ; it would be stealing.” «1 hain’t so pertie’lar; if he’s goin’ ter lose €r singer he mout as well lose ther music-box, © bere goes; but come along, for my ribs is sayin’ ticklish about the p'int o’ thet Italian’s Hastily resuming her diseui d taki ; guise, and taking the eet: as Jicksey urged it, Florette followed = boy out of her room, crossed the one where hah lived, and they were soon in the hall- Locking the door after him, with his wire, icksey led the way down-stairs, and they were "ge in the street, and both breathed more free- Y, for they had expected each moment to run Upon the Italian, over whose head the boy had yecorded a mental oath to smash the ‘ music- ox,” as he called the guitar. , It was just dark, and with bowed heads they ‘astened along until they turned into a street fading in the direction of Mrs. O’Gorman’s. ’ ust then a carriage passed them, a head was Arust out, and then a sharp command was Siven to the driver, who came to a halt. ‘a They is after us, Florette—run!” cried Jick- R and the two started at a rapid pace. p ut the carriage rolled swiftly after them, Xd soon drew up at the curb near them, Hold on there, my children!” was not Pietro’s voice they heard, and halted, and a gentleman sprung out and *pproached them, a Are you not the little street singer, the “pet of Pietro?” he asked. a am a street singer, sir; but not Pietro’s Srashter,” she answered, ly, unheeding : icksey’s nudging her to tell a lie'and deny her prety “Ah! : aoe are the oneI seek; you are Florette (Lam, sir.” tow ou, Ihave good news for s rae ; lawyer Sag vein te fies ows yer now,” said Jic an added sotto bee to Florette: pre: k He’s a big lawyer, Florette, but aw‘ul sly; “eer eye peeled!” ehy Wickes explain,” said the lawyer, who"\«ii heard on Sremark: “I will tell you t ta lady up at my office, and desired me to look you hep, "Y's. she wished to have you live with “B you—I am an y diligent inquiry I learned that you were oR) girl I often heard atabte tn, front Pir. y use, and I sent for Pieti. “> bring you ok A ee 4 1 ' “much more singing than I did with the board- | to me, but he said you had suddenly léit his home. “T did, sir; I Si him of treachery to- ward me, and I fled with this boy, who is an old friend.” ‘Ho is a fine-looking boy, and will no doubt make a good man,” remarked the lawyer, be- nignly, while Jicksey said quietly: ‘Taffy !” ‘Will you go with me now?” continued the lawyer, unheeding the remark of Jicksey, but more than ever impressed with him. ‘“What shall I do, Jicksey?” and Florette turned to her defender, who said slowly: ‘I'd like ter get a squint at this leddy, and then I kin say.’ “Then get into the carriage with me and drive to her home.” ** Blorette kin git inside, but I'll ride up with hacky, for I don’t like ridin’ in hearses until I aredead. ’Sides I wants ter see where I is be- ing druv to,” said the cautious youngster, and, with a smile at the Past shrewdness, lawyer Livingstone handed Florette politely into the carriage and followed her, Jicksey nimbly ringing to a seat beside the coachman, and the vehicle rolled away, once more en route to the home of Helen Burton. CHAPTER XVIII. DISCARDED, Mr. Princk, the millionaire banker, went to his elegant home an hour earlier than was his usual custom, for he had a mission to perform, and one that was not disagreeable to him. Going into his library and putting on his dressing-gown and slippers, he threw himself down in an easy-chair, and waited the coming of his daughter, for whom he had sent a ser- vant, Marion Prince was a lovely girl, a bi fatal society belle, and yet her heart was as pure an noble, as was her brother’s false and hardened. Though called a coquette, she was not a heart- less flirt, and it pained her to refuse the hand of any man whom she believed really loved her for herself alone, and not for her money. But, her heart was not her own to give, ru- mor said, yet, though many were mentioned as the lucky one, none knew exactly upon whom her preference fell. ‘Father, are you ill, that I see you home so early?” she asked, anxiously, as she came into the library, and affectionately kissed him. ‘*No, Marion, I have come to have a talk with you, expecting that you would have com- pany to-night. Now, tell me, frankly, who of your gentlemen friends do you admire most?” “Why, father, what a question for me to an- swer, and I really am not able to give you a bx fe ‘Then your heart is not set upon one in par- ticular, of all who visit you?” persisted the old gentleman. ‘No, sir, of all who visit me, not one has a decided preference.” “Then, you will consider a proposal I have to make, in behalf of Ellis Linwood?” “Ellis Linwood!” and Marion looked at her father, in amazement. ‘¢-Yes, he loves you devotedly, so he says and, as he is well off, holds a good eyece me an will inherita million, I freely gave him my con- sent to offer you his hand, especially, as he is a friend of Burton’s.” “Being a friend of my brother is hardly a recommendation, father, as Burton’s circle of acquaintances are not all desirable; but, out- side of that, I will not consider Mr. Linwood’s offer for an instant, as I detest the man’s fast life, and have no respect for him.” ‘Oh, he’s a little fast, as is your brother; but they will both soon sow their wild oats, and set- tle down to become ornaments to society.” ‘*T doubt it in both cases, Iam sorry to say; but, why do you wish me to marry, father?” “Tt is the lot of women.” ‘‘ Not of all, and I wish to remain here with you, for you are no longer a young man, father, and will need me by your side when the years go by; let me stay, please.” ‘“¢ Assuredly, child, I do not wish to force you into a marriage; I expected ‘ef would soon be caught by some one, and, as I looked upon Lin- wood as a good match, I gave you his offer; but I’ll tell him you decline.” “‘-Yes, I decidedly decline the honor of an al- liance with a man for whom I have no respect,” and Marion turned away for a moment, and then said, with hesitancy: “Father, will you grant me a favor?” ‘‘ How much do you want, Marion?” and the old banker put his hand in his pocke “Tt is not money that I wish, you will be just!” ‘ Nie t. sir; it is that’ «How mean you, child?’ ‘¢ With that poor man, Carl Brandt.” “That convict? He has his just deserts, now,” said the banker, angrily. ‘‘He is suffering imprisonment for a crime which I would stake my life he is innocent of,” boldly said the maiden. ‘*Hoyty, toyty! what is this I hear?’ and the old man adjusted his spectacles and looked fixedly upon his daughter, who stood the gaze unflinchingly, while she continued: ‘*T never believed him guilty at first, and when he refused to tell what he did with the money, I was convinced of it, though I could not fathom the motive that led him to say he had taken it, “Now he is suffering as a convict, while the real criminal is at large, and I beg that you will use your influence with the Governor to pardon him out.” ‘No, no, girl; I will do nothing of the kind.” ‘Father, he saved my life.” ‘Ahem! I know he did, and I rewarded him all in my power, for he would not accept money for it—” “* Ah! [ remember, you gave him a check for ten thoussnd dollars, and he returned it; why did he refuse that, and steal the same sum from you afterward?” oy Marion, you reason like a Philadelphia law- er. ‘*T reason with justice, for I have weighed the matter thoroughly, sifting every point in the case, and I am convinced of his innocence; besides, he was not: defended rm pleading guilty and went to prison, while all the facts against him were brought forward; and more, father, he had a little sister dependent upon him, and although I have tried to find her I cannot, for I did not wish to see her left péhniless, when I owe my life to her brother.” ‘‘No, the girl must not suffer, for she has committed no crime. _ Look her up and do what you can for her, Marion.” “You dear, good old papa; and will you let your heart prompt you to seek a pardon for the brother?” ‘*No, Marion, I will not do that; but call upon me for what you need for the child.” “Tf I bring you proof that Carl Brandt was not the thief, will you?’ ‘“Of course, though he deserves to rot in prison for being such a fool as to lay a erime upon himself which he never committed— Ah! here is Burton.” : “Not one word to him of what we were eaking,” said. Marion, hastily, as Burton rince entered the room. ‘Well, sis, have you accepted Ellis? Don’t blush, for father told me of his offer.” ‘‘No, I would never marry a man like Ellis Linwood; one of his kind is enough in a family.” ‘* Whew! hot shot from you, sis! but, ll take it, as I’m vulnerable, having just received my walking-papers from the beauty and heiress, Miss Ivey.” 7 His words brought his father upon his feet in astonishment, while a faint smile came over Marion’s face, “Do I hear aright, Burton Prince?” You do, sir; I called upon Miss Ivey to ask her to drive with me in the Park, and she de- clined to go, and begged to see me in the parlor, when she told me she had changed her min about marrying me, and severed our engage ment. ‘This shall not be, for I will go at once and see her father.” ‘*No, sir, you will do nothing of the kind, for her decision is irreyocable,” and Burton spoke firmly. ‘“« And she gave no reason?” ‘‘Oh, yes, she said she did not love me.” “Nonsense! the girl don’t know her own heart, and—” *“T tell you, father, Berta Ivey will never be my wife. I regret to give you pain, sir, for I know your heart was set upon this match; but T’ll marry a girl who is even richer in this world’s goods, and equally as pretty.” “Whom can you mean?’ “That is just now a secret, sir; but she will be worthy to be your daughter.” “YT doubt it, sir,” said the old man, testily, while Marion remarked, as she left the room; ** Brother, you know the old adage: Tt is best to be off with the old love, Before you are on with the new.’” CHAPTER XIX. THE COLONEL’S PLOT. er A Party of gentlemen sat ina private room at the Sans Souci Club, engaged ina game of | cand” : RR sent | A ee. ee Re ye ye Le la Cohen
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ss) ee = ni”) ~—h eo, = 4h W Sigs: ; a, 44. Upon the table were rolls of bills and piles of gold, showing that the stakes were large, and the winner was Colonel Castleton, whose dark face showed no sign of pleasure at his good Tuck. The other three were also known to the reader, for it was Basil Trevor who sat upon the left, while Burton Prince was his vis-a-vis. “ Ah, luck is changing,” coolly remarked the young artist, as he drew toward him the stakes, and he added: ‘* You seldom lose, I believe, Castleton?” “‘T am very lucky in all games; I am so cer- tain of my chances to win, that I'll wager a side bet that I end the game a winner.” — ‘tT take the bet, Castleton; what shall it be?’ “Five hundred; Linwood, hold the stakes,” and the money was placed in the hands of Ellis Linwood, and the game went on, Basil Trevor still continuing to win steadily. At last Burton Prince said with a yawn: “*T draw out, for I’m broke for to-night.” But the other three continued to play on until Bilis Linwood, having lost all he had with him, remarked: we As Mr. Trevor seems to have a sleight-of- hand style of playing that always wins, I will also draw out.” : “T do not understand your remark, sir,” and the artist looked the speaker straight in the face. “Ts your mind so obtuse that I must _ex- plain?” was the insulting reply, for Ellis Lin- ‘wood had been drinking deeply. “Ah! You meant to insult me, I see,” and rising quickly, Basil Trevor dashed his hand into Linwood’s face with a force that sent him reel- ing upon the floor, while Colonel Castleton and ' ‘Burton Prince sprung to their feet in alarm at the sudden fracas that had been precipitated on them. ERising to his feet Ellis Linwood seized a chair sid started toward Basil Trevor; but the art- ist’s cool tones checked him. “T warn you off, Mr. Linwood, for I am arm- ” He had not risen from the table, and seeing that his adversary had checked his intention to attack him, remarked, indifferently: “Shall we continue our game, Colonel Cas- tleton?” “Oh yes; but I sincerely regret this. unfortu- nate affair.” . “So dol; but Mr. Linwood should not have insulted me.” na gee _ ‘*Mr, Trevor, you shall answer for this,” cried Ellis Linwood, who stood apart with Burton Prince. , ‘You are the judge of that, sir, and I am at y: our service wholl ihe few words between Ellis Linwood ; and Burton Prince, and then the two left the » room together, but the latter soon returned ' with a formal challenge from Mr. Linwood, “Tell Mr. Linwood that I accept his chal- Tenge, and will meet him at sunset to-morrow pring upon Sandy Hook, near the old Light- ouse, ‘IT know the spot well; permit me to place my yacht at your service,” said Colonel Castle- - ton, bowing to Basil. “Thank you, I will accept your kind offer, ” “ And your second, Mr. Trevor?” asked Bur- mn. ce, Ts it asking too much of you, my dear colo- nel, to oblige me in this affair?” “Assuredly not, Trevor; I will be only too glad; what is your choice of weapons?” ‘Pistols, ten paces,” and Basil Trevor went on with his game, while Burton Prince returned -tomake known to Ellis Linwood the arrange- ments a upon. ; For another hour the game continued, and Colonel Castleton looked at his watch. _ “Tt is ten o’clock, Trevor, and you still win, so I yield our side beat, for I have an engage- ment to go up to Mrs. Earl’s.” R ‘* And I promised Miss Earl I would drop in during the evening, so suppose we go together?” “With pleasure; but let us have a bottle of» first.” witha wine was ordered, a carriage sent for, and the two men were soon set down at Mrs. ’s residence. they were eeted pleasantly by mother and ‘daughter, and while Basil Trevor led Geraldine to a sofa, Mrs. Earl conducted the colonel to the furthest end of the back hee! but took f seat ould observe the young people. wis Tt you, Brete, Geraldine is getting too deeply interested in that artist; I see it more 7 Be ” said Mrs. Earl, anxiously. ; » OVETY Ay sal 1, | dt, andI mised you I would put an end to fst taken deve to do mo | Boyd, and entered the neatly-furnished | thought t **T am glad to hear you say so, for if she marries you know I am accountable for her property, and that sum drawn from the bank must be returned, and I could not raise it, as you know.” ‘Nor could I; but I tell you I have a plan laid to stop this love affair, and put her in mourning for a year or more, by which time we can arrange to get the money.’ “Put her in mourning! In Heaven’s name what do you mean, Brete Castleton?” cried the ‘woman. ‘“Why, 1 was playing cards with Trevor, Prince and Linwood to-night, and as the artist won heavily, in spite of my ‘tricks of the trade,’ you know, I wrote on aslip of paper and hand- ed it to Elis, asking him if he did not think he was being cheated. “He caugat the bait, withdrew from the game, a heavy loser; and, full of wine, he in- sulted Trevor, who promptly knocked him down, as Il knew he would.” . ‘Oh, Castleton, will you never be done with ploodshed?” and Mrs. Earl shuddered. “You wrong me,. Victoire; it is Ellis Lin- wood who is to shed the blood, for you know he is a marvel as a shot.” “Yes, [have heard that his aim was some- thing wonderful; well, a duel is to follow?” “Of course, for it is all arranged.” ‘But is not Trevor a good shot, too? *‘[ have never heard so, though he may be, as he has knocked around the world a great onl ;, but Linwood must take his chances as to at. *‘ Ah me, what a sensation it will create, and could we not manage to epeoae the rumor that the duel was about Geraldine? It would give her tone, you know.” “Yes, such a rumor can be circulated; but hear that fellow’s light laughter! He seems to have forgotten that he is to face death to-mor- row,” and the colonel showed some surprise. “ He is as cool as though it did not trouble him in the least; but what if he should kill Lin- wood? Why, he’d be a greater hero than ever in Geraldine’s eyes.” ‘No, she would regret it, for she is a noble girl, whatever her mother may have been.” **And who made me the— But we will not recall the Bg Brete Castleton; I asked you re- garding e result, should Trevor not be ‘* Oh, then I shall take him on a cruise for his health, and should he be lost at sea, you know, the world would call it a Divine retribution for fighting a duel.” “It seems a pity; but crime must be hidden y crime, I suppose; but Trevor is rising to go and I have not the courage to bid him good night, so pray excuse me to him,” and Mrs. Earl med from the room, while the colonel with the utmost sang froid, walked forward and joined Geraldine and Basil. ‘“‘ Ah, Trevor, you going?” ‘Yes, but do not let me carry you off.” “‘No, I am also leaving, for Mrs, Earl ex- cused herself upon the plea of a headache.” ‘Mamma ill? Then I must hasten to her,” said Geraldine, and her visitors hastily took their 1 ‘Will you let me drive you home, Trevor?” asked the colonel, as they reached the carri- ? e. ‘“‘No, thanks; set me down upon Madison Park, and to-morrow breakfast with me at ten, and 1’ll be ready to start to Sandy Hook,” ‘*T’ll be there.” Arriving at Madison Park the driver drew up, and Basil Trevor alighted, bidding the colo- nel good-night; but hardly had the vehicle roll- ed around the corner before Brete Castleton called a halt, sprung out, and catching sight of the artist hurrying toward Twenty-second street, followed swiftly on after him, 5 ‘Ab! he goes to her home; he knows her, 00! - “‘Now, who can she be? Bah! I will yet trace out her career, although I have been baf- fled thus far in my attempts, only discovering that her name is Helen Burton, and that her beauty and fine on Broadway have won her the name of ‘The Princess’;” and, disappointed at being baffled, Colonel Castleton, the arch plotter, and himself man of mystery, returned to his bachelor quarters at an up-town hotel, CHAPTER XX, FLORETTE RECEIVES A LETTER, _ WHE Florette arrived at the home of Helen r lor. with lawyer Livingstone and Sioksey, dhe at it would be delightful rf live 4 : ‘ ' , ’ nese NE galt Lane : i ear! sank : reek a te) ae ee hee > re me vy 5 sath cil a a a Ps St Pea ee oe eee FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET. | | *~ there, if the one who had sent for her was only a pleasant person, A moment after Helen Burton entered the room, and seeing Florette, her face flushed with prey: causing her wonderful eyes to sparkle, and almost dumfounding the lawyer with her beauty, while the girl seemed at once drawn toward her, and Jicksey remarked, in a loud whisper: ‘*She’s ther boss, nuthin’.” ‘‘ Lam glad to see you, Mr. Livingstone, and delighted that you have brought my little girl for you will be my child, will you not?” an Helen drew Florette toward her affectionately, and catching sight of an bare-footed Jicksey, who was turning his hat on his finger, which he had run through a hole in the crown, she asked: ‘‘ And who is this?” ‘Oh, I hain’t nobody in particular, missus; only a boy,” was Jicksey’s remark, looking at Florette, who said: “‘ He is a friend of mine and of brother Carl; he took me away—” “Yes, madam,” quickly interrupted the law- yer finding that Florette was treading on his s; ‘yes, madam, this youth is one who has served me well in getting Florette out of that Italian’s hands, and I intend to make him a Florette; too pretty for clerk in = ve Eg Jicksey ?”? oD healthy clerk 7’ll make,” suggested the youth, — , ‘‘ And will you give up the wild life you live in the street, my child, and live with me, for I aman old friend of your brother Carl; we knew each other when he went to college in old Con- necticut, and many a stroll we’ve had together upon the banks of the Housatonic.” ‘*Knew brother—at college—Connecticut—on Housatonic—ahem!” muttered lawyer Living- stone, making mental notes of what Helen nid; % Yes, if you wish me to come, for I love you even before I know you,” Florette answered, honestly. The tears came into Helen’s eyes, and to hide them, she turned away, asking the lawyer to follow her into another room. “I tell you, Florette, this are a jam-up place, and she are a screamer, you bet! but, did you hear that old liar say Iwas ter be his clerk? Why, he’ll bounce me on the end o’ his boot soon as he strikes ther outside,” ““No, Jicksey, I will ask him to look after you,” encouraged Florette, who had not lost all trust in human nature. “Nary! Ikin look after myself; but I won- der ef I'll ever see yer, now you is goin’ ter be a ee peomgza lady?” “If she were to refuse to let Jicksey, I would not stay here.” “Bully for you! But, here they comes, an’ the agrits looks as tickled as though he’d swal- a e) aaigeae aN icksey, m » we must be off, for Flor- ette has a Avg oak now.” . 2 “Oh, madam, can Jicksey come to see me sometimes?” asked Florette. “ Certainly; and here is something for him to buy him a suit of clothes with,” and Helen handed the boy a bank-note. “‘Can’t wear clothes, less they’s been wored afore, missus, as I don’t fee: comfortable in ’em, and I might be mistook for a Sunday-school softy, which I isn’t,” “Oh, yes, he'll dress up nicely,” decided Florette; and the lawyer having told Jicksey that_no one must know where the young girl was living, the two departed sen me see you, ow, my boy, come to my office to-morrow, and I'll give you work to do.” ‘* What ter do?” asked the cautious Jicksey ; ‘*T hain’t no book-l’arnin’.” ‘Allright; Pll make you my office-boy, and : little detective when necessary, for I see that you are a shrewd youngster,” “Guess I oughter be; I'd starve ef I wasn’t sharp, and t’other boys would chaw me for um ik Then you will come in the morning?” Pll be thar, esquire, ef I bu’st a suspender,” and Jicksey lounged away, contented with the world at large, and himself in particular; but he uttered no word at Mrs. O’Gorman’s of hav- ing seen Florette, though she was, as usual, the subject of conversation among the boarders, and promptly the next day he reported at the office of lawyer Livingstone, and, two hours after was most uncomfortable, in a new suit of clothes, a clean face and combed hair, for he re- marked, sotto voce: But, Jicksey stuck to his work, and as days went by; found his duties not unpleasant, whiles “Now hain’t I a healthy snoozer! AllI needs — | ee make mea Sunday school softy are a cate- — chism. ,
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FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET. S in her new home, Florette found almost happi- ness, for with her brother in prison she could not be wholly sith But one day another cloud swept across her young life, for in receiving the letters from the post-office one afternoon she found one address- ed to her. Helen was absent, and going to her room Flo- rette broke the seal and read as follows: “Nzw York, Wednesday. “To FLoRETTE BRANDT: “Feeling a deep interest in you, I write to say that ' you are in the power, and under the protection of aes worst enemy, and one who has proven your rother’s bitterest foe—I mean none other than the woman known as Mrs. Helen Burton. ““A country girl, endowed with wonderful beauty, she won your brother’s heart, when he was at col- lege near her home, and then cast him aside for bet- ter game—a rich student, little caring for the sorrow she gave to poor Carl Brandt, = outta o New York she got your brother again in her toils, and it was to give her money she de- manded that made him rob Prince & Co., and then in his distress she cruelly deserted him, and he lies in prison for a crime committed for her. “Do not think that remorse caused her to take you under her protection; she had a deeper motive —to rear you up like a lady and then sell you to the highest bidder, ‘Now, little girl, you know Helen Burton with her mask removed, and you had better fly from her presence as you would from a pestilence, for better & child of the street than become what she will make you. “Tf you need proofs of what I have written, law- yer Livingstone can give them. ‘“*Hoping you will heed the advice of one who Would willingly serve you, but cannot, believe me “Your FRIEND.” With white face and throbbing heart Florette read this strange letter twice over, and then, urged by some sudden impulse rushed from the room hurriedly. Five minutes after she was walking swiftly along the streets in the direction of the office of lawyer Livingstone. A knock, and the door was opened by Jicksey 4Cross whose face broke a broad grin at sight of his old ‘‘boarding-house missus,” as he was Wont to call her. “Lordy, Florette, you give me ther jim-jams Coming so suddint on a feller,” he said, and then noticing her pale face and seeing that she was troubled, he continued: ° .‘‘ What is the matter? Hain’t things working Tight?” “No, Jicksey, and I have come to see Mr. Livingstone. iM “He is engaged jist now, with one o’ our cli- ents; but your case shall be attended to soon; walk in, miss, and have a seat by my desk,” and feeling his importance before his fellow-clerks, and shoving a pen behind his ear, Jicksey es- corted Florette to a seat near his desk, and eant forward in a very confidential way, to ve his companions wild with envy at his en- tertaining a very pretty girl. “Now, Floretite, tell me what is the matter?” Said Jicksey, with all the dignity lawyer Liv- ingstone could have put on. * Well, I am going to leave Mrs. Burton for- ever, J icksey.” “Leave that grand place! and whar will yer oy Florette?’ asked the law student, in sur- se “Into the streets once more,” was the bitter reply of the young girl. CHAPTER XXI. ANOTHER TRAP SET. person in the inner office of lawyer Ta . Livingstone, at the time of Florette’s call, was & gentleman whom the attorney let out by a Private door. ’ But hardly had the lawyer ¢losed the portal ehind his ‘visitor when a cunning and ava- Yicious smile broke over his face, and throwing imself into his easy-chair, as was his wont, he talked to himself, half-aloud: Well, well,” he muttered, “I am making money out of this child, and if, as the one who fae! left says, she and her brother are to in- erit a large property, why, I’ll adopt the girl me and thereby get a finger in the golden haa Let me see: after the letter I wrote her, she 4 Sense enough to leave Mrs. Burton, and will Oubtless come tome, A clever dodge that of ©, running up to Connecticut to find out the antecedents of that beautiful woman and this th the convict, and I hope Florette will catch z ) t; but, as she is now an heiress, I will ot return her to this beautiful Helen Burton or the reward I know she would offer, but bee her in my own care until I sift this matter si Po ut the inheritance; and he offers a large _ $m to find her, that he may send her to school “¢ — ee and get the credit of being her guardian, and then marry her, so as to get control of her property. Well, we shall see, we shall see, for, if the estate is worth what he says it is, why, Tll marry her myself; yes, by Jove, I’ll marry her myself, for I am not a bad-looking man, yet under fifty, and beautiful wards have married handsome old guardians, for I have heard of such cases, ‘¢ But now, let me see what is best to be done? Ah, Lhave it; if my letter does not bring the girl I will send Jicksey after her, and take her to my home in the country, where I will put her under the care of a fashionable governess: then I must get money from my two esteemed clients: who wish her, to search for her, and take good care that cursed Italian does not find her, for he is on the search day and night; by the way, I guess I’d better lay a trap for him to fall into and have him hanged for that first murder he committed, and that will end his career, “‘Now to send that queer youth after Flo- rette,” and the lawyer touched a bell and Jick- sey appeared in answer to the call. ‘ Ah, Jickséy, I wish you to go on a particu- lar duty—to see Florette privately, and—” ‘* She is here now.” “* And alone?” ‘“Yes; she wants to talk law to you.” “Show her in at once— Ah, my child, be seated and tell me how I can serve you?” ‘*Mr. Livingstone, I have received a letter that_has made me very unhappy, and I have left Mrs. Burton’s,” ‘*No, no, left that lovely lady’s home, and why?” asked the lawyer, in well-feigned sur- prise. “This letter will explain,” and Florette watched his face as he pretended to read, what he oragt had sent to vind ¥: ak is is surprising, indeed; who co’ ave known these facts? © : Florette was remarkably intelligent, and her Sa ees in life had made her sharp-witted, and, at once, she caught at his remark: ‘“ They are facts then, sir?” ** Ahem! well, now, that is a hard question to answer, for, you know, a lawyer’s secrets are never to be told, and—” “Never mind, sir, I have found out what I would know, and I thank you; but, Iam sur- prised that you would wish to place a young girlin the protection of one who had brought ruin upon her brother.” The lawyer winced under this shot, but an- swered, quickly: “‘T believed that remorse had prompted her to care for you.” ‘Well, she need not trouble herself, for I can look out for eee} and, as I have been twice led into a trap, I will know how to avoid them, now. “But, you are not going again alone into the world, my child?’ D3 sig “Oh, yes; for I have no one to care for me—I am a poor child of the street,” and the tears came into her eyes. ** Florette, my dear girl, I will not.let you go forth alone in the world, for I have a comforta- ble home, and a be:.utiful daughter, who will welcome you as a sister.” ‘No, no; I cannot be a care upon you, sir.” “But, you will be no care, and I will makea fine lady of you—now do not say nay, for you shall be my little ward, and go out from this wicked city to my beautiful country-home, where you can _ hear the singing of the birds, see the green fields, and wander in the woods gathering wild flowers,” The man spoke in a manner of sincerity, and the picture he drew called back to Florette the happy home she had known in the past, when her parents were living in the country, and thus tempted, the child-woman of fifteen fell into the third snare set for her. ‘Oh, sir, 1 would be happy there, T know; only Iam afraid I would be a trouble to you, she said, eagerly. ‘*No; on the contrary, ie would be a great leasure, Now, come with me out of this side oor, for even Jicksey must not know where you are, for Mrs. Burton will make diligent search and that Pietro is na for you, too, Come, will drive you home and introduce you to my daughter.” Leaving the office by the private door, law- yer Livingstone descended to the street, and, calling a carriage. the two entered it, and were driven rapidly away up-town; but, the vehicle and its occupants had been seen by one whom the settee would have given much not to have — observed by, for it was Pietro, the talian. “ a) hte g tracka him and geta girl for self; she singa so sweet, and maka monna for poor Pietro.” Having given vent to his determination, the Italian ran across the street to a hack-stand, and, shoving a bill into a coachman’s hand, bade him rapidly follow the vehicle in which was the lawyer, and which was now a couple of blocks away. Hevile seen the lawyer and his charge set down at the elegant home of the former, the Italian drove away, seemingly satisfied that Florette would not immediately leave the man- sion, But, an hour: after, there returned to the neighborhood a totally different looking person- ~ age from Pietro Avilla, though the eye of a de- tective might penetrate the disguise, and behold beneath the false beard he wore the evil face of the Italian musician. For more than an hour he lounged about the locality, until darkness came on and the street lamps were lit, and then his patience was re- warded, for a carriage drove up to the door and three persons came out of thé house and en- _ tered it. Rapidly the vehicle rolled away, but the fleet- footed Italian kept pace with it until he caught a passing hack, and turning the driver about he Silene the ones he so persistently tracked. At the Hudson river dep6t both vehicles drew up, and, ten minutes after, lawyer Livingstone, nis daughter, and Florette, were flying along into the country. But in thesame car with them sat Pietro, the Italian, an evil light in his wicked eyes, as he muttered: “Girla go witha me, or me killa her.” CHAPTER XXII. THE DUEL, " AFTER a breakfast, which he seemed to greatly enjoy, Basil Trevor drove with Colonel Castle- tor down to the pier, off which lay the preity Aa, little schooner yacht, on board of whi colonel passed a great deal of his time, for he ; was a celebrated yachtsman, Spreading her white sails, the Cloud, as her owner had named her, flew swiftly down the harbor, and passing through the Narrows, cut through the swell of the lower bay, where an- other pleasure craft, a sloop*yacht, was visible, heading toward Sandy Hook. “That, is Prince’s i Linwood are on board; they must have driven down from New York, and embarked at the fort pier,” declared Colonel Castleton, looking at the graceful sloop ye his glass. Basil Trevor glanced with almost indifference at the other vessel, and then turned his eyes seaward, as though enjoying the view of the snow-capped waves, wholly forgetting the dead- ty mission upon which he was bound. Swiftly the two pes crafts glided al drawing nearer and nearer to each other, un’ they sailed abeam, and not half a cable’s length apart. Colonel Castleton and Basil Trevor raised their hats politely, as they saw upon the sloop’s desk Burton Prince, Ellis Linwood, and a gray- gentleman whom they recognized as a dis fa! ware pi fat of the city. e salutes were politely returned, a; as the Cloud forged ahead, being the fastest r, the colonel remarked: “* Linwood has come prepared, although he is © the best shot in the city, forhe has brought Doo- tor Herrick along, I see.” . “‘ He was wise,” was the laconic answer, and yet Basil Trevor did not speak in a tone; but his remark caused the colonel to feél ' that a man whoshowed such utter indifference outwardly, must be confident of his own pow- acht, and he and Eilis — 45 Ba: Y ers to face and conquer any danger he might . vt meet, ae into the Horse Shoe of Sandy Hook, the Clou dropped anchor, and immediately after a boat from each put off for the shore. ‘Let us take the sea side; there will be no one to disturb us there,” said Burton Prince, as the parties met upon the land, and, crossing the cedar covered neck of land they reached the ~ sandy beach, upon which the heavy surf. of the Atlantic fell with monotonous roar, The sun was near the western horizon, afew’ vessels were far out upon the blue waters, and a Southern-bound steamer‘nearer shore, while landward a bird in a cedar near by trilled mer- rily, the sound of the waves playing a deep basso profundo accompaniment. But that little group of five men Treanor’ not the beauty of the scene, for they come there to mar its quiet by deadly combat. With his cane Ellis Linwood traced letters in ‘Ah, he foola me; but, me no foola; me | the sand, and watched the waves wash them — £ 4 * leading the Nie: A the two yachts — ia
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ry r a $ mr oN w? _ knocked the unexploded weapon from his KR ’ > ad out, while upon his face was @ smile of confi- dence, as he glanced at Basil Trevor, standin apart, and gazing seaward, in the same indif- ferent manner he had shown on the trip down to the Hook. The surgeon had lighted a cigar, and was ‘complacently laying out his glittering instru- ments in a convenient place, and spreading a shawl upon the sand for the one who might be dead, or wounded, within ten minutes, with an indifference born of long experience with pain and death, Together stood Colonel Castleton and Burton _ Prince, arranging the preliminaries, and apart, with anxious, excited faces, stood four seamen from the yachts, ordered there by the colonel at a thoughtful suggestion of Basil Trevor, and at their feet lay a litter, to bear back the one who should fall in the meeting. “We aro ready, Mr. Trevor,” and Colonel Castleton approached his principal, while Bur- ton Prince walked toward Ellis Linwood. ‘And so am I; ten paces, I believe?” “Ves, and I need not tell you that Linwood is a quick and dead shot.” * So I have heard,” and Basil Trevor took the pistol handed to him, glanced at it carefully and walked to his position, as Ellis Linwood did the same. r ‘Colonel Castleton, as my pistol has not been used for some time, you will pardon me if I fire _ it off, and ask you to kindly reload it for me,” and Basil Trevor wheeled, glanced over toward the cedar, where the bird still*sung, thirty paces distant, and raising the weapon quickly pulled the trigger. _ With the report the songster fell dead from the limb, anda cry of admiration broke from every lip at the magnificent shot; but Ellis Lin- ood turned deadly pale, for, confident of his Own unerring aim, he had not, up to that mo- ment, dreaded the meeting. “A crack shot that, Trevor,” said Colonel Castleton, and he added mentally: 3 _ ‘Hoe doubts me, that is evident, and believed ‘TI had left the bullet out. Poh! I don’t care whether he kills Linwood or not, only Linwood must kill him; ll tell Prince to make his prin- cipal fire first,” and thus plotting against the man he pretended to serve, Colonel Castleton set about reloading the pistol, while Ellis Lin- , asif to unnerve his adversary by an ex- hibition of his skill, raised his weapon and aim- - ed at asmall pebble lying upon the sand. ~ Tohis chagrin he shot over it, and a curse arose to his lips, for he felt that Trevor had un- nerved him, Again were the pistols loaded, the word of advice whispered to Burton Prince, and the duelists received their weaponsand stood facing * each other and awaiting the word. - “Gentlemen, are you ready?’ The colonel had won the word, and with his Linwood spoke in his terse, ring- ing tones. *T am, sir,” answered Basil Trevor, with per- fect distinctness, while Ellis Linwood merely bored. One pistol flashed on the word, and it was Ba- 2 8il Trevor’s, while the bullet struck the extend- ed arm of Ellis Linwood with a dull thud, and an to the ground. “Great God! I gave Linwood the sign, but he was too quick for him,” muttered the colo- nel, as he hastened toward Basil Trevor, saying -_ with feigned anxiety: Mies & yikes - on the return to the oP am you have done for Linwood.” | “Oh, no, I did not wish to kill him, so broke his arm above the elbow; but it will make an ugly wound,” was the calm reply. ' €*Cool as an icicle in winter,” growled the _ disappointed colonel, while Dr. Herrick, the surgeon, who was bending over Ellis Linwood, as he lay upon the shawl where he and Burton Prince had placed him, said: . *Tinwood, this is an ugly wound, and I must § you home as soon as‘possible; but Iam glad fo did not kill you,.for he could have done so, I am certain.” The wounded man made no reply, ony pete revengefully at Basil Trevor, who ha rhted a cigar and was again gazing listlessly *. Gently the sailors of the yachts raised the lit- ©, ter u m which Ellis Linwood was placed and slowly away across the neck of land, mOV ba achts, Colonel Castleton ie. _ and Basil Trevor slowly following. Once more on board the two vessels and the ou_are not hurt, Trevor; but | **T regret exceedingly, colonel, that you take this view of it, for I would much rather return at once to New York,” declared Basil Trevor, in answer to Colonel Castleton, who had urged that it would be better for him to land at New- port and not in New York State, to avoid any | trouble the authorities might give him. ‘*T fear that Linwood is dangerously wound- ed, Trevor, and should he die you would have to stand your trial.” ‘True, and I am willing so to do; I resented an insult offered me, and a duel followed, so I am willing to take the consequences; but, if you are adverse, as my second, to returning, of course I yield to yot, though T shall take the train for New York immediately upon my ar- rival at Newport,” and Basil Tiatae turned away, as though wishing to drop the subject, and watched with interest the bounding of the vessel over the waves, for a ten-knot breeze was blowing. As he thus stood, lost in meditation, he sud- denly received a severe blow from behind, and, staggering forward, he fell into the sea, while the Cloud sped on without one helping hand stretched forth to save him! CHAPTER XXIII. HELEN’S SEARCH, WueEn Colonel Castleton, the evening of the trouble between Ellis Linwood and Basil Tre- vor, followed the latter to the home of Helen Burton, he was more than ever mystified re- garding the strange woman, and made up his mind to yet know her history, for he had be- come deeply interested in that beautiful face, behind which he felt were hidden secrets con- nected with the young artist, as well as with Burton Prince. Having come to the conclusion that he would solve the mystery, he returned to his rooms at his hotel, a plot in his breast against Basil Tre- vor, should he escape the bullet of Ellis Lin- wood, which, the colonel believed, and hoped, was doubtful. _And, unconscious of the deadly intent against him, of the man whom he had only a short while before made his second in the duel, Basil Trevor entered the cosey home of ‘The Prin- cess,” as Helen was now nicknamed by her ar- dent and unknown admirers, and was ushered into the parlor. : “Ah, Mr. Trevor, I am so glad you have come, for I am in a world of trouble,” and it was evident from Helen’s warm greeting that this was not their first meeting since be had re- cognized her, as she entered her carriage, after her visit to Berta Ivey, to make known the char- acter of Burton Prince. ‘* And can I do aught to relieve trouble, Mrs. Burton?” asked Bas her to a sofa, *“Yes, you can do much, for I need the advice and assistance of just such aman as you are; but, already, Iowe you one favor I can never eps and she gave a slight shudder, ‘1 thought that was a secret never to be resurrected from the waters at the base of Lov- er’s Leap,” he said, quietly. ‘‘True, T'was unkind to recall what must be painful for you to remember; but, to explain my present misfortune—little Florette has been stolen from me.” ‘What! that pretty little child of the street that you adopted?” **-Yes; J came home froma drive to find her gone, and as she carried nothing with her, [ am convinced that she was pone i'e for, seem- ingly happy with me, she wo hardly leave on her own account,” “T should think not; the child’ has a history, I suppose?” -and Basil Trevor’s searching eyes looked straight into the face before him, as though to read there the story he would know. ‘Yes, she has; she is the sister of a man pow in the Penitentiary, serving his time as a felon, for robbing, as is believed, the bank of Prince & Co.; but [ believe he is innocent.” ‘“‘T remember the man and his trial, for I dropped into the Court House one day and saw him; he was a splendid-looking fellow, and no- bility of soul, not infamy, was engraved upon his face; but, then, he confessed his guilt.” “True, and he a motive for it, for he sacrificed himself. Well, Florette is his sister, and since her brother’s incarceration she has led a strange life, for the child, to support her- self, kept a boarding-house, and then gave it u to go, disguised as an Italian girl, with an Ital- ian artist, who was making money out of her voice, under the pretense that he intended to save her brother; then I sought her out, and hoped to keep her with me until Carl Brandt was released from prison.” : ‘You knew this Carl, the convict, then?” “* if 4 { ou of your nf as he led _ FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET. **Oh, yes; he was.a friend of mine, when in Connecticut attending the academy, and I al- ways liked him; now will younotaid me to find Florette?” * Assuredly ; I will start to-morrow upon-the search—no, not to-morrow, as I have an impor- tant engagement that cannot be broken; but the day after, and—” ‘Well?’ she said, simply, as he paused. “T was gone i say that if you did not hear from me, or I did not call by evening, day after to-morrow, send to a rooms, at the Artists’ Club House, and get a letter I will leave there for you, and which my valet will give to your messenger.” His tone was so easy, and his manner so calm, that she suspected not that he stood over an open grave, as it were, and not anticipating harm to him, she promised to send for the let- ter, if she did not see him at the stated time. For some while longer he remained, and then took his departure; but Helen felt more hopeful after seeing him, of again getting Florette into her possession, for she had learned to dearly love the little street waif, and felt that her beauty would prove a curse to her, if left to the fife she had been forced to lead since her bro- ther’s condemnation. But, anxious, if possible, to discover some tidings of her little charge, Helen, the following day ordered her carriage and drove to the office of lawyer Livingstone, Jicksey, who greatly admired the handsome lady, met her at the door with an awkward pst aes his face turned pale when she said uickly; ian Jicksey, Florette has been stolen from me.” ‘© Oh cracky! you don’t say so, missus! Who stoled her?” ‘‘That is what I came here to find out. I left her at home yesterday afternoon, and when I returned she was gone.” ‘‘She was here yesterday arternoon, missus, and wanted to see ther boss.” ‘* And did she see him?” ‘*She did for a fact.” ‘‘Then he can perhaps tell me of her.” ‘‘T hopes so, missus, for I don’t want Florette lost, I kin jist tell yer. Will you walkin now and see ther gov’ner?” “Yes, Jicksey, if he is not busy.” ‘+ He'd see you ef he was a-tryin’a murder \ case,” and walking to the private door Jicksey announced in a pompous tone; “ Missus Burton!” Lawyer Livingstone held too much control over himself to betray emotion, and rose quick- ly, greeting his visitor in the suave manner he could so well assume before a lady. “Mrs, Burton, lam deleting to see you, and honored by your visit. ell, I hope, and our little friend Florette is also enjoying good health, is she?” “In body, yes, I hope, but in mind, no, for, Mr. Livingstone, Florette has been taken from me. : “Taken from you, and by whom?” asked the suwyer, in a pretty piece of acting of innocent larprise. ‘That I wish to find out; but she left yester- day, and I have come to you, for I know that you have a string of detectives at your com- mand, and I am willing to pay a large reward for her recovery.” “As how much, for instance? Pardon me, but I wish to be wholly oleae ‘‘ Well, a thousand dollars; is that sufficient?” ‘*Oh, yes, @ ially as a starter, for it will lead to a knowledge of her whereabouts at an rate, for Florette is not a et to be easily hid- den, Mrs. Burton, and [ will do all in my power for you.” “Thank you, and if you need funds advance all necessary, and let me know the amount and I will give you a check,” and Helen left the of- fice, and passing out, a look at Jicksey caused him to follow her. BEd isme’ f if you find Florette for me I will give you five hundred dollars, but, don’t let the awyer know I offered it to you.” **Oh no, I wasn’t born in ther. woods, missus; but I'll do what I kin, though I don’t want no money for findin’ Florette,” and Jieksey re- turned to his Cuties, while Helen drove home- ward, and lawyer Livingstone entered in his account-book an item: “Detective services for Mrs, ‘H. B,’ in SOATCH OF TBs sacks cxviods weehodewid< tae wee $200.00." ‘‘That will do as a starter,” the avaricious lawyer muttered, a cunning smile upon his face as he felt that in a pretended search for Florette he couid pocket a few hundred dollars. oo
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St es Gnd Twill be ay em at ? obs 4 FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET. 7 Me ad y ; oo CHAPTER XXIV. STARTLING TIDINGS. Wuen the Herald was read upon the morn- ing following the duel between Ellis Linwood and Basil Trevor, the fashionable society of New York was thrown into a fever of excitement, and excited knots of men grouped themselves together at the different clubs and discussed the erits and demerits of the case. As she came down to her lonely breakfast ${elen Burton indolently raised the Herald from he table, and almost instantly her bps fell up- “ B nena that brought a startled ery from er lips. With bated breath and white face she read as follows: * A DUEL IN HIGH LIFE! “TWO WELL-KNOWN SOCIETY MEN ENGAGE IN AN AFFAIR OF HONOR! ** One seriously wounded | “ A strange retribution overtakes the other “Our readers, especially those in fashionable life, Will be startled to learn of an affair of honor that Came off last evening at sunset, on the shores of Sandy Hook, between Mr. Ellis Linwood, a well- known and wealthy New Yorker, and Mr. Basil Trevor, the famous artist from the South, the sec- onds being Mr. Burton Prince, acting for Mr, Lin- wood, and Colonel Brete Castleton for Trevor, with r, Herrick as surgeon for the duelists. “The cause of the duel is not fully known, but a re arose between the gentlemen at the Sans Ouci Club, and an insult from Mr, Linwood was bromptly resented by a blow from the artist, and a Challenge followed, which we regret to state has re- Sulted most sadly in the duel that was fought last evening in Jersey. “From Dr. Herrick, whoin our reporter interview- ed, we learn at the first fire Mr. Linwood was wound- din the arm, and the bone shattered badly, though it is hoped amputation will not follow. “The wounded man was brought to the city in the acht of Mr. Burton Prince, and now lies at. his ome, where he receives every attention, while his Successful adversary, fearing the death of his ene- my, urged Colonel Castleton, on whose yacht he left e scene of the duel, to land him on the Connecticut Coast; but the colonel states that when at sea, and running rapidly along under a stiff breeze, he sud- enly missed Mr. Trevor, and at once hove to and ry was made for him in the boats, but without vail. “The Cloud was then put back for New York where she arrived before midnight, and Colonel Castleton made his report to the chief of police, at the same time saying that he feared it was a case of suicide, as Mr. Trevor had seemed much cast down after the duel, phous a sudden lurch of the yacht might have thrown him overboard. In either case the unfortunate affair is greatly to 8 SB 4 wee and we deeply sympatize with the friends of both gentlemen.’ From beginning to end Helen Burton read the account of the duel, her face pale, and her eyes filled with tears, for she had began to have a stron liking for the young artist. ‘ This then was the important engagement he ad, and the reason he wished me to send to his rooms for a letter should he not visit me, or call evening. I will send at once,” and calling or a servant she dispatched him to the Artists’ Club, while she paced toand froin deep thought, er paging breakfast remaining untouched. Tn half an hour the messenger returned and Placed in her hand the expected missive. She shuddered as her hand touched it, for she elt that it came from the dead, and it was a Moment before she could read the lines before nas H but at last she conquered her emotion and ACLS “My pear Mrs. Burron: “Tf what is herein written reaches te eye it will when I am no longer in the land of the living, for though I did not make known to you to-night that 1 Was to fight a duel on the morrow I now tell you so. ‘Though I have little fear of myself, as regards , the result—” i “Poor Trevor! how little can we read what the future hold: in store for us!” broke in Helen; 8nd brushing the tears from her eyes, she con- tinued her reading: ‘—still accidents will happen often, and should Fate © her worst against me, I desire to ask of you a fa- Yor, and that is that you will visit the home on the Hudson of the remarkable woman known as the een of Mystery ’ and also as the ‘Red Witch,’ nd learn all she can tell you regarding the past life of Colonel Brete Castleton, my second in to-mor- Tow’s affair, and in whom | have little confidence and Mrs. Victoire Earl, a leader of society here, o Whom you doubtless know. In avisit to the Red Witch some time ‘ago she ade known secrets of the past that rised me siPly, and though an unbeliever in the super- titions of such people, I was again led to seek her, me on my second visit learned enough to convince © that Colonel Castleton and Victoire Earl are in __Seme way connected with my past life, and to you I ee yornst the duty of finding out, with the hope that ° e position they now hold ) ; be avenged. *More that you would know Zaidah, the Red Witch, can tell you, and, in case you need money, I to-night leave you my heiress, my will having been signed and sealed in the presence of witnesses half an hour ago, and, as I have no kindred I know of, there will »e no one to contest your claim. “ As regards Geraldine Earl, I believe her to be in- nocent of the fact that her mother is a wicked wo- man and praying a deep game, and I regret the blow that must fall upon her; but in punishing the guilty the innocent often suffer. ** Now I will bid you a last farewell, with the hope that your life may brighten as your years increase, ** Basit TREVOR, “A Homeless Waif,” The oftener Helen Burton read this letter the more she was mystified thereby. She deter- mined to at once seek Zaidah, the Red Witch, and learn from ber all she could tell her, not only regarding Colonel Castleton and Mrs, Earl, but also about the young artist himself, And while she was driving toward the weird cabin on the Hudson, there was one slender form bowed in an agony of grief in her hand- some home, while she clutched in her hand the paper telling her that Basil Trevor was no more, And that sorrowing girl was Berta Ivey, a short while before the promised wife of Burton Prince, but now loving the dead artist with all the intensity of her nature and mourning him in utter abandon. Nor was she alone in her suffering, for, when the news reached the Earl mansion a wail of sorrow went up from the lips of Geraldine, who had hoped cne day to become the wife of Basil Trevor, though never had he breathed to her one word of love. And with hard, but triumphant face Mrs. Earl tried to soothe her daughter, though she kept from her the fact that she knew how Basil: Trevor had met his death—that it was neither a suicide from remorse, nor an accident; but the result of Brete Castleton’s plot against him. And into still another home the news of the duel and its fatal result fell with beavy stroke, for, as lawyer Livingstone, startled out of his usual self-control, read aloud the head-lines of the affair, they brought his lovely daughter to her feet, white and trembling. *‘ Ellis Linwood, seriously wounded, papa?” she asked, in constrained tones, *‘So it says, Bella, and Basil Trevor commit- ted suicide; but, girl, you are as white as a ghost; calm yourself and order my carriage, and I will drive up to see Ellis.” ** And may I go?” she pleaded. ‘*No, no! What would the world say? I will go and return at once and give you full par- ticulars. By the way, I received a letter from Florette this morning; slie is delighted with her new home and likes her governess amazing- ly, and is studying hard; don’t you wish to run uu Saturday to the farm?” ‘‘T only wish to hear of Ellis Linwood; please hurry there and back, papa.” ne Why, Bella, you are badly gone on Ellis, as the boys say; but, as he’s a clever fellow, and will inherit a large fortune, I have no objection; but I am off, as soon as I’ve swallowed this cup of coffee,” and, shortly after, lawyer Living- stone was en route to the Linwood mansion, while he muttered; “The girl loves the worthless rascal, and is too good for him; but, I’ see that he does not break her heart, and in a young millionaire we can pardon some things.” CHAPTER XXV, THE TRAMP. As Helen’s pang. neared the lonely home of Zaidah, the Red Witch, the driver suddenl drew up to arrange a part of the harness, whic had become loosened, and as he did soa man ap- proached from a thicket by the roadside, and in the shadow of which he had been resting. “* Ah, lady, giva poor trampa monna; hava nutha to eat.’ : Helen, ever generous, opened her purse, when she saw the man start back at sight of her face, Ye he said aloud, though speaking to him- self: ; ‘Tt is sama lady; sama one.” **You speak as though you had seen me be- Se and Helen placed in his hand half a dol- ar “T hava seen lady before — neva forgeta time, There was something in the man’s tone and look that impressed Helen with a strange dread, and she was about to order the coach- man to drive on at once, when she checked her- self and glanced. straight into the face of the tramp, for such he had called himself. Hi ope where have you seen me before?” sho ask The man glanced cautiously at the coachman. ae > + ip 4 at Bad ek Pad pe reb mer 14D etre) tell SLE a be Z who was still busy with his harness, and said, of in a low tone: “It taka color out of cheek if me tella you.” ‘Oh no; speak out, for I have nothing to fear,” said elen, firmly, though she felt a cane at her heart she could not account or. ‘Wella, me tella lady; me a poor trampa, aml walk all about America, and see lady in Connecticut.” ** Ah, at my home in Connecticut, where my mother doubtless fed you, for she never turns any one away from her door,” and Helen gave asigh of relief, ‘*Oh no, neva see lady at her home; but in woods, on rock, and above river,” 7 ‘““What, at Lover’s Leap? No, I never saw you there,” ‘No, but me sawa lady; me resta in woods, ' hear quarrel with lady and gentlemana—saw him leava and coma back to find ’notha mana and killa—’ , ‘For God’s sake keep silent!” The words broke forth almost in a wail from her lips, for now, as she believed herself alone: the pees: of the secret of Edgar Monkton’s death, to find it known by another, a vagabond tramp, was a terrible shock to her, ‘*Me comma lady’s home, and tella all me saw, she wish me talk not now,” said Pietro, the Italian, insolently, for the reader has doubtless. ere this recognized him as the — tramp. ; ‘*No, I do not wish to talk more about it.” - ‘But me want talk about it; me poor trampa need monna,” : ‘Here is all I have with me; now go and never let me see or hear of you again,” and / Helen emptied the contents of her little purse into the outstretched hands, The man smiled grimly and thrust the money » into his pocket, just as the coachman mounted to his box. >. ** Drive on, Ben, quick!” ordered the: beauty, and Pietro stepped back justin time to escape having his feet crushed; but he shook his fist after the vehicle and muttered: ‘‘She thinka Pietro Avilla a fool! Oh, no, me hava mucha sense, and she giva me mucha monna, or me tella police all me knowa. ‘‘Me greata man—getta rich quick, sama, Americanos.” He watched the carriage untilit disap from sight, and then going to the thicket picked » up his cane and bundle, which he had left there, and set off upon his return to the city, for he had been going away from town when he saw Helen. ' : Arriving, after.a rapid walk, ab a wayside inn, he hired a irae | vehicle, and with a boy to drive him returned tothe point where he had last seen the carriage of ‘‘The Princess” disa pear, and to his delight discerned it stan off the road a few rods, under the shelter of a large tree, and with the coachman nodding up- on bis seat, Going on to a convenient place the Italian bade the boy turn to the rightabout, and then come to a halt. oe: And here he remained until the stylish turn- out of Helen Burton drove once more upon the highway and rolled rapidly back toward the city. By blows and curses the old horse was ed. on in chase, the boy seemingly afraid of his strange passenger, and the carriage was not lost sight of, until it deposited, its fair mistress at her own door and drove round to the stables, : Then Pietro went slowly by tbe house, gazing intently at it, as though to impress it upon his memory. Ah dered the boy to return from. whence he came, and an hour after was once more trudging — along the highway leading up the Hudson, while Helen Burton was pacing her room, her. face white and hard, for there was grief, and | almost despair, in her heart, for she had lost Florette, mourned for Basil Trevor as dead, had been deeply impressed by her visit to the — Red Witch, and had caught sight of the evil face of Pietro Avilla as he drove by, and well Hoe} that he had followed her to see where she Vi s ‘ Utterly wretched, her brave heart almost failed her, and sinking upon a sofa she burst into tears, for she felt that the meshes of future trouble were tightening around her, ' % CHAPTER XXVI. PIETRO’S LITTLE/ GAME, Wuen Pietro set forth for a tramp into the Aa country, of course he had a motive of impory y ‘ poe ia ‘ F Yin Nate 5 a ed 4 me allrighta now,” and the Italian or- — ' y hs: UG
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a Hoang a add * 2 » ing tears tothe eyes of the goc lawyer Livingstone’ had judiciously selected as tance in view, for that avaricious and wicked Italian never acted without good cause in his _ own selfish interests. What was his motive in this case the reader will soon discover. Wending his way along at a pace which proved him to be a good pedestrian, he seemed wholly satisfied with himself and the world in \ general, for a look of devilish contentment rest- ed upon his dark face, Shortly after dark he stopped at an inn upon the roadside, and near the river, and inquired if he could hire a boat to row across to the other shore, and get a room upon his return? The landlord was not repossessed with the ap ance of his would- uest, and said he had boats, but would not let them out..to strangers, without a deposit equal to their value. This was at once produced from an inner ket and placed in the landlord’s hand, and is’ respect oe when he saw the Italian had money, he told him a good supper would soon be prepared for him. ietro ate his supper with a relish, for appa- rently nothing ever disturbed his appetite, and then got into his boat, and pulled out into the river, As long as he was distinguishable from the shore to any curious eye, Pietro rowed poh aut ' ahead, as though going across the river; when objects on land grew dim, he turned up- stream and continued his course for perhaps two miles, when he came back to the New York side once more and landed at a small pier that tted out from the grounds of a handsome ouse. Back among the trees was visible the man- sion, and from a window toward the water a : bright light streamed out upon the lawn. ing his boat the man cautiously ap- ched the house, dodging from tree to tree keep in the shadow as much as possible, though the night was dark, the stars being ob- scured by clouds. At length he reached the pe and with noiseless tread crossed it to where he could get a view of the interior of the brightly-lighted from whence came the low thrumming room ~~ sound of a Within all had an air of extreme comfort, for the room was large, handsomely furnished, and was evidently used as a library and music-room together, for a piano and book-cases were pies aac | irl, a guitar in h a sofa was a young girl, a guitar er ie and as she broke forth in song and raised her face, the Italian gave a chuckle of delight, ' for the singer was Florette. _ “Wella, she happy here; me maka unha py,” he muttered, with a fiendish look, and he crept closer to the window, and, as patiently as _a cat watching a mouse he sat and watched the “young girl, untouched by her sweet voice which had so often warbled forth melody an put money into his pockets. Presently the door opened and a matronly- lookin iy entered, and said pleasantly: _. “Why, Florette, Tam surprised and delight- _ed to hear what a sweet voice you have, and I will try hard to cultivate it as it deserves. Mr. _ Livingstone led me to believe I was to be the overness of a little street Arab, and already I find you far advanced in your studies, and an accomplis musician.” __ “My father taught me until his death, Mrs. Weldon, and then. my brother took great pains _ with me,” said Florette, sadly. ‘ And where is your brother now, my dear?” asked the governess. ‘In the penitentiary.” “ A felon!” ; The words broke from the lips of the gover- ness involuntarily, and seeing the expression of vn! upon the young girl’s face, she said, quick- Vic Forgive me, Florette; but your answer > startled me go.” ; eet “ Ah, [have to hear my brother spoken illy | of, Mrs. Weldon; but, though a convict, I do not believe him guilty, though he was sent there for robbing a bank of ten thousand dollars.” “T hope it will be proven as you believe, one day, and all come right; now, my dear, sing me a song, some light, pretty ballad to drive the blues away.” ; . Florette ran her fingers across the strings and then, as though the words and music were in sympathy with her feelings, she sung the Swit- zer’s song of Home, her plaintive voice bring- ood woman whom erness of the young girl. COW. ell, my oe ons certainly have a fine _ yoice and sing with marked expression; but it “ oe FLORETTE, CHILD.OF THE STREET. ” is bedtime now, so IT will give orders for a drive before breakfast and then we will retire.” As Mrs. Weldon spoke she left the room, and Florette leant over her guitar and burst into tears. And so bitterly did she weep, at the remem- brance of her poor brother, serving out his sen- tence a short distance further up the Hudson, that she failed to hear the step, and see the form of Pietro, who had glided through the open window and approached her. The next instant a rough hand was placed | upon her mouth with rude force, and an arm | encircled her waist. In vain did Florette strive to cry out and | struggle; she was powerless in the strong grasp of the Italian, who, with wonderful agility and strength, darted across the room, sprung through the open window, and with the speed of a deer rushed over the lawn toward the river. By a mighty effort Florette managed to twist her mouth free of the man’s clutch upon it, and gave one long, piercing cry for help, which was at once answered by the yelp of a dog. x ‘‘Cursa you, you maka me trouble, girl,” hissed the Italian, and he ran on with increased speed; but upon his trail was a savage brute, a huge mastiff, while lights flashed in the mansion and excited voices rung out, proving that the cry had been heard. - , ‘Oh, cursa you, girl,” again hissed the Italian, as he heard the sharp yelp of the dog now close upon him, and, finding that he could not esca: without a struggle with the ferocious beast, he dashed his hand against Florette’s face with a force that stunned her, and dropping her to the ona turned just in time to meet the at- c With one hand outstretched and the other holding his long-bladed knife, he met the bound of the dog, and clutched him by the throat, holding on firmly, though the weight and rush of the brute sent him down upon his back. Then followed a shot and terrible struggle, with fierce wls and bitter curses, and then a loud yelp of pain, and the Italian sprung to his ais while the dog rolled in the agonies of eath. ‘Oh, cursa the dog! he bitta me,” he cried, but at the same time hearing the alarm at the house grow louder, he turned and raised Flo- rette in his arms, and once more bounded away in the direction of the river. A moment more and he had reached his boat, thrown the still unconscious girl into the stern, and seizing his oars sent the light craft fying out upon the dark waters, leaving far behin him the flashing lights and loud voices of the servants at the Livingstone mansion. Having crossed over to the other shore, he turned down-stream under the shadow of the Palisades, and, though evidently suffering from the severe bite in his arm, held steadily on, al- ternately chuckling at his success in getting ssession of Florette, and cursing the dog that d bitten him. Presently he rested on his oars and took a long look at the girl, who lay as motionless as though dead. “Killa her? No! she mucha, strong; no killa her with little hit,” and he stepped aft and took hold of her pulse, which throbbed beneath his touch. ‘‘She all right,” he said, laconically, and once more bent to his oars, until siddenty there came a fluttering sound that caused him to look quickly around, and even his nerve mo- mentarily failed him as he saw the sharp bows of a vessel almost upon him. Seizing his oars once more, he endeavored to force himself clear of the course of the craft, at the same time calling out in a loud tone: ‘* Porta your helm! porta!” It was evident that the boat had not been seen from on board the vessel, and the ringing voice coming from the water ahead so startled the helmsman that he put the helm hard-a-star- board, and the sharp bows struck the little craft, crashing in its sides with a terrific noise. aa 3 that a collision must come, Pietro, with a bitter curse, sprung overboard to save himself, and the next. moment the yacht had lided on, with the row-boat crushed beneath its hull. ‘“There was a woman in that boat, sir; I saw her dress go under,” called out a seaman who had run forward, and addressing a person, evi- dently an officer, who was standing in the waist. “Lay her to, Dick, and launch a boat,” called out the officer, and he sprung unhesitatingly in- to the waters, and, as the yacht passed on and swept up into the wind, he heard a voice near him ery out: “Oh, save me, sir!” A few strong strokes and he seized in his arms the drowning Florette, for she had been feign-| to serve as an arm for the lounge, the s - ‘ r Esa eth : * i s - ing unconsciousness in the boat, though at first stunned by Pietro’s blow, and had not been hurt by the collision. ‘* Here away with that boat!” called out the man, as he supported the young girl in hisarms, and in a moment more the yacht’s yawl ap- proached, and the two were safely drawn in. ibe: Were you alone?” asked her rescuer of Flo- rette. ‘Oh, no, sir; but I would rather die than be - | again in the power of the man who was with: me,” she said, earnestly. f “Pull to the yacht, men!” said the officer,’ and Florette was soon in the brightly-lighted cabin, and face to face with the man who had saved her from death—and that man was Bur- ton Prince. CHAPTER XXVII. HOLEN VISITS THE RED WITCH. I wit now return to the visit of Helen,Bur- ton, made at the py ree of Basil Trevor, to Zaidah, the Queen of Mystery, and upon which occasion she was so unfortunate as to come up- on the Italian Pietro. Approaching the place of the Witch as near as pees in her carriage, Helen dismounted and walked toward the little cabin on the cliff, her coming saluted by the warning howl of a large dog, and a hum of excitement among the other dumb creatures, while the Africans mum- bled a few words together, apparently of admi- ration at the beauty and elegant toilet: of the visitor, ‘*T wish to see Madame Zaidah, if you please,” said Helen to the old negress, who at once mo- tioned to her to wait, and entered the cabin without speaking a word. But a moment, only, was she gone, and then, throwing open the door, by sign, and not by word, invited her to enter, which Helen did with a slight shudder, for the Africans, the huge snake and the other brute creatures, had a strange effect upon her, though her nerves were by no means weak, The room had undergone no change since the visit of Basil Trevor and his party, and, as on that occasion, the Red Witch stood ready to re- ceive her visitor, though her dress was now of crimson velvet, and a striped snake, fully four feet in length, was curled around her neck, to serve asa bracelet, while about her waist was the same style of loathsome helt. Though her life had been spent in the coun- try, Helen had a horror of reptiles of all descrip- tions and started back with a sighs cry as her eyes fell upon the woman and her disgusting pets, and for a moment seemed as though about to fly from the cabin; but the Red Witch stretched forth her hand and said, in her deep, rich tones; “Stay! They are harmless in my presence. You would have me serve you?” ‘Yes; I come from one who visited you some time ago, with a party of friends, and it is his desire to know from you the history of two who then accompanied him.” ‘Their names, please.” . Oe ae Brete Castleton, and Mrs. Victoire ar’ Helen noticed the woman gave a slight start as she mentioned the names, but, with no other sign of emotion, Zaidah asked: ‘And who sent you here?” *¢ Basil Trevor.” ‘‘ Why did he not come himself?” “Tf you have the power you profess to have, you should know.” ‘‘No, Ihave not read the stars or signs, nor have I been in a trance to know why; do you wish that I should tell you?” and there was a slight uneasiness in the woman’s tone and man- ner. Helen was strong-minded, and believed little in superstitions and retenders to the magical art, and she determined to put the woman to the test, and answered: “Yes, tell me why he came not with me.” Zaidah si hed, but, without hesitation, turned and touched a bell three times. Instantly the door opened, and the two Afri- cans appeared, bowing low. an unknown tongue the woman addressed them, and they went into an inner room and soon returned with a lounge, or rather settee, from which Helen recoiled, for it was made of human bones. With staring eyes Helen gazed upon its con- struction, for the settee was upheld by four skeleton legs and feet, from the knee down, and every bone intact, while the seat was made of in- numerable ribs, thigh and arm bones, securely and ingeniously fastened together. At-each end was a grinning row of five skulls, ightless Ag
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Sl Fen isin a , - ¥ FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET. . ~~ “ eo * wh . eye sockets staring each other i the face, and with hideous grins upon their white teeth. Placing the settee upon the right of the altar, the negroes brought in a vase and placed it at either end, at the same time lighting a fire with- in, which flamed up an instant, and then only > eng smoke, one of blood-red hue, the other c Folding her dress around her, the Red Witch laid down aos the lounge, and, crossing her hands upon her breast, lay as motionless as the dead, while the negro stood beside her, and the hegress went up to the vase on the altar and began to chant a wild, weird song, in a voice that was most plaintive. Instantly without the dog began to how] most dismally, and the cat to whine, as if as accom- paniment to the negress, and swinging his long arms like a pendulum above the recumbent wo- man, the negro said, in monotonous tones, and English: “ Heart, heart, cease to beat— Pulse, pulse, cease to throb— Blood, blood, cease to flow— Eye, eye, cease to see— Ear, ear, cease to hear— Flesh, fiesh, cease to feel— For Obi is King.” Again and again the African repeated his monotonous chant, while the negress’s plaintive song, and the dismal howl of the dog, held Helen spellbound with horror, especially as Zaidah, after a few convulsive shudders, lay like one in reality dead, for the eyes stared straight upward, and yet seemed not to see. At last the negro ceased his song, and pass- ed his hands rapidly over the recumbent form of Zaidah, the two snakes lying dormant, as though they too had felt his magnetic influence. “Now let lady speak,” and the negress turn- ed to Helen, who tried several times to utter a word before she could command her voice. ‘* What shall I say?’ she at last asked of the negress, * Ask questions lady wants to know.” “ Ah!” and turning to Zaidah she said, in dis- tinct tones: ‘‘Let Zaidah, the Queen of Mystery, tell me ) Decade. Basil Trevor came not here to see er?’ The lips of the recumbent woman moved, but the eyes still kept up their stony stare, and ina voice wholly unlike the one in which the Red Witch had before spoken she said aloud: **1 see a man and a woman in a grand home —they are plotting etd one they seem to fear.—The scene has changed, and I behold four men seated around a table playing cards—one of those men is the one who plotted with the woman—the other is the man they plotted against—an insult is given—a blow follows—a challenge is sent and accepted—the plotter has set his trap and the plotted against has fallen into it.—Again the scene changes—I see a lone- ly beach, with cedars in the background, and ve men stand there, two facing death—I hear the report of a pistol—one man fails badly wounded—the other is unhurt.—Again the scene shifts—a schooner yacht is heading seaward in the darkness and over a rough sea—the crew are forward—one man -is at the helm—another stands near, with his back to him—the helms- man suddenly moves his helm—the yacht gives a lurch—the man standing up is struck a severe blow and falls into the sea— Oh, God! Basil Trevor is drowning !” The wild shriek that broke from the lips of the Red Witch startled the two Africans as much as it did Helen, for they sprung to her aid with cries of dire alarm and distress, She had half-raised up at her cry, but had fall- en quickly back again, and now seemed to be cer- tainly dead; but she was raised in the stron arms of the negro and borne into the nex room, while the negress turned to Helen and said, earnestly: if Go, lady, now! come again in seven day.” ‘She is not dead, then?” ‘‘No, but hurt here,” and the negress placed her hand upon her heart. ““T am sorry, and will go, as I can be of no. service here; but, here is my card, should your mistress wish to see me,” and Helen turned away and was soon on her way back to the city, deeply impressed by her visit, and ponder- ing upon the strange and startling cry of grief from the lips of the Red Witch when she saw in the trance that Basil Trevor was drowning. ‘There is some strange mystery in all this— he was murdered, not lost, and I will find the murderer,” she muttered, and her now pale face and set lips proved that she was in deadly eee ~ CHAPTER XXVIII. AN UNWELCOME SURPRISE. SEVERAL days passed away after the duel and still it was the subject of almost unive comment in metropolitan society, and the pros and cons were argued over and over again. But sympathy-was more generally bestowed upon Basil Trevor, who was universally popu- lar, than upon Ellis Linwood, whose haughty bearing, even to his equals, was not calculated to win for him many friends. His wound, too, was improving rapidly, and all danger of losing his arm was over, while the affair in his own mind would make him quite a lion in society, for if he had not killed his ad- versary, he had at least gotten rid of him. To the authorities both Colonel Castleton and Burton Prince had reported the duel, and its unfortunate consequences, and there the mat- ter rested, for in those days dueling was not so harshly looked upon as now. One evening, as Ellis Linwood reclined in an easy-chair, nursing his wounded arm, and cogi- tating upon what the future might have in store for him, his servant brought in word that a young man, who looked like a naval officer desired to see him. ‘“‘Show him in, Ben; but, did he give no name?” “None, sir,” and the servant retired to usher into the room a young man, still wearing his cloak and naval cap. ““T would see you alone, sir,” hesaid, quietly, and Ellis Linwood motioned to the servant to retire, and observing that he had every appear- ance of a gentleman, he said, politely: ‘* Be seated, sir, and tell me how I can serve you, ‘* Ellis, do you not know me?” The cap and cloak were suddenly thrown aside, and revealed a woman’s form, in spite of her undress midshipman’s. uniform and false mustache. ** Bella Livingstone!” And Ellis Linwood half sprung from his seat. “Yes, Ellis, but forgive me, for I had to see rou; I could not remain away from you when knew you were suffering,” and she knelt by the side of the wounded man’s chair, and bent her proud head humbly. ‘*T cannot censure you, Bella, when I know of your anxiety for me; but itis wrong in you to come here, and were it known would bring dis- grace upon you—especially after—” ** Ah, g0 on, and say, especially after your late conduct toward me that proved you had ceased to love me,” she said, bitterly. *“*T cannot deny but that I have changed in my love, Bella, yet from no act of yours, [ must mit; my father wished me to marry Marion Prince, and—” He paused, and she went on: “‘ And she refused you, for I heard all from a servant now in our employ, who was then with banker Prince, and who told my maid how he had overheard the reception of your offer and its refusal; of course Nanette told me.” His face flushed at her words, but he said, quickly: ‘It was my father’s doing, and not mine.” ‘* Well, we will not speak of it, especially now when you are suffering; but I hoped that you would be glad to see me, Ellis.” “T must frankly say that I am not,” he said, impatiently, and seeing her hurt look, he added: But it is for your sake, Bella.” ‘“ Ellis Linwood, I do not belieye you; a short while ago and you would have been, but now I am cast aside like a toy that a child is tired of, and feeling that your father wishes: you to marry either Marion Prince, Berta lvey or Geraldine Earl, all of whom are heiresses to millions, beautiful and accomplished, you wish to cast me aside, because I am not as lovely or rich as they are.” ‘No, Bella, you wrong me, for what you have been to me they can never be; but my father is set upon my marrying one of those three girls, and were I to refuse to obey him, he x cut me off with a shilling.” “Tt is your father that is mercenary then, and not you, Ellis?” “Yes, thatis it.” ** And you love me all the same?” **- Yes, Bella, of course I do.” “Well, let him cut you off, for you owe it to me to make me your wife, and I have a fortune by no means small, as my father can tell you, and we can be so happy together, Ellis.” He would not look into the eer eyes of the girl whom he had professed to love, and then cut adrift from, in the hope of securing a richer prize; but, his selfish nature would not poset him to make her happy by ah? er, ashe feared thereby he might sacrifice S J ¢ ; eee Se le ere ans self, and he determined to tell her that she could never be his wife, when the door opened and the servant announced: ‘““Lawyer Livingstone!” . A slight cry broke from Bella’s lips, and Ellis } Linwood turned deadly pal and he inwardly =! cursed the servant; but the lawyer had called twice a day, for a few moments, to ask about the young man, and the liveried valet had thought there was no harm in showing him! | right into his master’s room, as often he had done so before, and in the person in naval uni- form he had not suspected a woman’s fair form. ‘* Ah, Ellis, my boy, dropped in to see how you are,” began lawyer Livingstone, as the ser- vant closed the door behind him, ‘‘for Bella will not allow me any rest until I call twice a — day; she is deeply interested in you, you sly ~ young duelist,” and the lawyer crossed over te where Ellis Linwood sat. vs Poor Bella had at once sprung to her feet, as — the door opened, and fumbled about for her mustache, which she had removed, and for her cap, which upon remoying had caused her : wealth of hair to fall in braids around her far below her waist. ek But before Ellis Linwood could utter a word the keen eye of the attorney detected the dis- guise, and inangry tones he shouted: ‘Bella Livingstone, what means this mas- — querade?” ake ‘Father, father, do not betray me to others,” she pleaded, turning toward him, her beautiful __ eyes filled with tears. Vpn Lawyer Livingstone was an intensely circum- _ spect individual, where his own affairs were concerned, and he immediately stepped to the ~ i two doors and locked them, while he continued, _ in a low tone: : R Ee what means this masquerade and Visi Bella looked imploringly at EMtis Linwood, for him to speak, but he had turned very pale,and selfishly intended allowing her to make herown explanation, and no answer was given until the — irate father a third time asked the question: ‘‘Once more, 1 ask what means this?” “Tt means, sir, that I love Ellis Linwood, alas! too well for my own happiness, and I came here to see himin this disguise,” and Bella spoke firmly, and looked her father straight in the eyes. ia ie, . d is this the only visit you ever made ‘Tt is; I know it was wrong, but I did so ny to see him in his suffering,” she said, piti- ully. . ses “y told her it was wrong, sir, and that she would compromise herself.” 3 ‘‘No, I will not, for I will return as I came, without any one knowing me in this d i I will go now, father,” and she wound her — braids around her head and replaced her false mustache. ee ) F Pa Then throwing her cloak around her shoul- ders, she said: ; ‘“Good-by, Ellis,” and she held forth her hands <nick he grasped lightly, and replied petulantly : = 2 “Now don’t be so foolish again, Miss Living de one. eee: She made no reply to him, and walked to the __ door, where she turned. 4 os ‘* Will you go with me, father?” + hae ‘*No, go as you came, alone, for that is doubt- __ less your hack at the door; I will see you when I return home.” ~~ “‘Father, remember, you and Ellis musthave no trouble about my foolish act; he is not to blame for my coming.” ee “All right; there will be no trouble, only Ty lg little business matter to arrange with im. ~ a ‘* J will trust you, father.” oe ‘You may,” and Bella Livingstone left the room and drove home witha heavy heart. . ‘““Well, Mr. Linwood, matters seem to have gone pretty far between ag and my daughter,” and there was a look in the eyes of lawyer Liv- ingstone that Ellis Linwood did not at all like, and he was sorry now that Bella had not re- mained, for he felt that there was trouble in store for him. p q be: CHAPTER XXIX. ee LAWYER LIVINGSTONE SPRINGS HIS TRAP, For a moment, after the leading question of __ lawyer Livingstone, Ellis Linwood made no re- | ply, and then, seeing that one was expected of _— im, he phawates’ epee RN sic he ‘ ne e were always good friends, sir, and I thought with your permission.” - ae ““Oh, yes; but is it not going too farto have her come to your rooms in discuise?” arn yey r- s = ‘ . - . 2 ’ < vt
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her to doso; in fact— “ Coward! like Adam of old, you would blame the woman,” sneered the lawyer. “‘ What, sir, do I understand that you dare to call me a coward?” e er will donot the least good in this case, Ellis wood, as you will find out. You doubtless did not ask Bella to come here to see you, but your intimacy with her in the past, (it ‘nas, so her conduct betrays, been such that she _ acted asthough she knew you would understand ee her motive, and has risked her fair name by race coming here} so what have you to say, sir, in | rebuttal evidence?” ‘Only that I am sorry she did come, and ' more sorry that you saw her here,” ; " _. **T am glad I saw her, for it enables me to sa'§ 0 Pb to terms.” ‘*T do not understand, sir.” ** Oh, you will, ere Iam through. To begin, I noticed long ago that you were very atten- ters tive to my daughter, and, what is more, I ob- os served that she loved you. : ‘¢To this I did not object, in one sense of the 3 word, though I did in another. i _ “My objection, to mention it first, was your t i] ‘ ‘gharacter—” ou are insulting.” eep cool, Linwood, for the doctors say - , quiet is necessary to you, on account of your wound, and Iam sorry you are not wholly well Tae , \ now. : - “Tsay that I objected to your character, - knowing that you played cards, drank heavily and was known asavroué; but, those faults overlooked, as your family was far more aris- ' oeratic than mine, and moved in a circle a ' strata above my associations, and I desired my daughter to form an alliance that would give her an entrée among the élite, especially as I ex- amined into the matter and knew that you were heir to several millions, and your father was mete dying.” You have it all down fine,” sneered the ' ‘young man. “Oh, yes, I always get things down fine; but, __. to continue—I noticed of late that you were _ } not so attentive to Bella as you had been, and I ‘was about to speak to you on the subject, when yon placed sear’ up for a target, and got a roken arm by it; then I would have delayed it still longer, had it not been for the meeting of " my daughter here in your rooms to-night, and the fact that your little note, twice increased, and twice enlarged, falls due in a few days.” ; -“T know that, and it has worried me, for I ' have called too heavily upon the governor to _ ask him now for the enormous sum of twenty- _ five thousand dollars.” “Tt can be od mate without calling upon the _| governor, my dear boy.” iy EN OW renew it, then, for another year? for in that time my father must certainly die.” ‘No, I will tear it up.” “Tear it up? DoT hear aright? Ah, I know _ ,Mow;'you wish me to keep silent about Bella’s rhs oaey ad my rooms?” said Ellis Linwood, ea- gerly. % AG: “ oe ow.’ ; _ “What then can be your motive?” and the __-s- young nian did not like the smile upon the law- ..* yer’s face. )-) “JT will tear this note up, and the others _- | which you thoughtlessly left in my possession * at each renewal, upon one condition only.” Mipe! "Name i¢!” “That you marry my daughter.” **Never, sir!” st “ Think before you answer.” i) ee Say n0; she is not my equal in society, _,* That is one reason I pay largely to raise her her by-a marriage to a man whom I know to be \ a villain.” _ The cool manner and cutting words of the “lawyer nearly drove Ellis Linwood wild with anger, and had he been able he would have 8p upon him; but he said, hoarsely: Pheer’ say never, and I swear it, lawyer Living- _ stone,’ ; Many a man has perjured himself by swear- ing falsely, Ellis Linwood, and you will do the sane in this case,” was the calm retort. - “Ah, no, for you cannot bully me into a mar- riage with your daughter, whom I admit to be - beautiful and accomplished, simply because you hold my note for twenty-five thousand dollars, ie -due in a few weeks,” ‘ % our circle of the upper ten, and sacrifice p = f ey Ni * f i , = at oS? Sai sar Pease: BAe 1 : How will you extricate yourself, Ellis?” ah. #e Why, I will get the money in some way and ? refuse to sell the notes.” ou.’ ere ut I Beta re **That was her fault, sir, for I never asked , Re a Wen ed we: 7 OD AUR a . i ‘Then, if I offer you the money and you re- fuse—and, mind you, I will doit before irre- proachable witnesses—you can then go to the devil, for you cannot collect after that, and I will be that amount in.” “Ellis Linwood, I would not let you take that note up for fifty, nay, not for a hundred thousand dollars.” eV On prize it most highly.” *T do. ‘* For what reason?” ** The indorsement !” ‘‘T do not understand,” said the young man, bres 2 ‘*You are obtuse; I say I prize it, and the others I hold through your carelessness on ac- count of the indorsement, for they are indorsed y your firm, and by you,” “Well?” ‘*You have no right to sign the firm’s name; you have done so to get money to hide your own sins, and, Ellis Linwood, you have com- mitted forgery.” “ Great ! and you led me to do this?” ‘* Yes, and I hold the forged indorsement.” The young man was now as white as marble, and he trembled violently, for he saw that the lawyer held him in his power; but after awhile he said, anxiously: ‘If | promise to marry your daughter, you’ wilt on those notes up?’ . ; ‘In God’s name what more do you want?’ ** Your promise is as worthless as your forged indorsement; but the moment after you marry her I will place the notes in your hands.” ‘* Ah! but my father will never consent,” ** He must.” ‘*But he will not, for he has sworn I shall marry only arich girl, and a very rich one at that.” ** Bella is rich.” ‘* A few thousands, perhaps.” “Oh, no, for your note calls for twenty-five thousand, and I will cover that with five times that sum as her dowry.” ‘*Can you do it?” ‘* Yes, tor I have not worked for thanks, but money,” ‘Livingstone, you are playing some deep game in wishing me to marry your daughter.” “‘T told you my motive; you are aristocratic, and with your money and her own, my daugh- ter will be the richest y ung woman in New York. Now, which shall it be,a happy young bryagrooua or the penitentiary?” ‘*Of course I have no alternative.” ‘So be it; but, mind you, Bella must feel that you act png t in this matter, and when your father has seen her I know he will not object, especially when the old miser knows she is rich; good-night, my son; take good care of yourself, and just as soon as you are able come round and dine with us,” and lawyer Living- stone took his departure followed by bitter im- recations from the lips.of Ellis Linwood, who nas been so cleverly caught in the attorney’s rap. CHAPTER XXX.,. HELEN AS AN “INTERVIEWER.” Two days after his night adventure npn the Hudson, when his yacht crashed into the row- hoat, and he sprung into the river and saved Florette from a watery grave, Burton Prince sat alone in his elegant home, looking over his private accounts, and wondering how he was going to meet certain bills without calling upon his father for funds. And here he dreaded refusal—nay, almost felt assured of it, as banker Prince was in no estimable humor toward his son, since the match with Berta Ivey had been broken off, and he had acted as second in the duel between Ellis Linwood and Basil Trevor, ‘*\ lady to see you, sir,” said a servant, en- tering the room. ‘“‘ A lady to see me, Thomas, and here, at the governor’s house?” he asked, with surprise and alarm, ** Yes, sir, she isin the parlor.” . “ And where is the governor?” ** Gone out for a drive in the Park, sir.” ** And my sister?” ‘Gone with your father, sir.” Burton Prince gave a sigh of relief, and anx- ious to get rid of his unwelcome visitor before the return of his father and sister, he entered the parlor, where sat a lady dressed superbly and gazing out of the window, while she patted her little French boot impatiently. At the sound of his step she turned, ‘*Helen! you here?” and he turned deadly e. y ‘* Yes, I came to see you upon a matter of : ~ 6 Oud ; ie coe iy 7 4 ‘ ‘4 ins way aaa? 7 Lig sty ah Py Sree ae eee OR Oe eS business, and as I care not to remain longer in your hateful presence than is necessary, I wiil preg at once to make known why I am ere, ‘Tam hateful to you then now, Helen?” he asked, infatuated by her beauty, and mentally cursing himself for ever having given her up. **Yes, [hate you; but I did not come to tell you what you should already know; now an- swer me—you were second to EJlis Linwood in his duel with Basil Trevor?” ‘“*T was; but how does that interest you?” ‘That is not your affair; 1am here to ask, not to answer questions,” she said, imperiously. ‘*Now tell me, did not Basil Trevor spare the life of Mr. Linwood?” “How mean you?” ** Could he not have killed him?” **T believe that he could have done so, for he said to Colonel Castleton, before they fought, that he would not kill him, only wound him,” ‘Did Colonel Castleton act with honor toward Mr. Trevor?” ‘Of course, for he was his second.” “That proves nothing; did Mr. Trevor have perfect faith in him?’ “T think not, as he fired off the pistol when first loaded and handed to him; but, Helen, you are worse than lawyer Livingstone for questioning one,” and Burton Prince tried to smile pleasantly. But, unheeding his words and smile, Helen continued: ‘* And Mr, Trevor went to sea in the colonel’s acht ?” ‘‘Yes, the Cloud rounded the Hook and stood seaward, while I ran home with poor Lin- wood,” ‘‘And when did you see Colonel Castleton next?” ‘Late that night at the Club, for, before he was a league off shore Trevor fell, or jumped, overboara, and the colonel put back and re- ported his loss.” ‘‘Do you think that Mr. Trevor committed suicide?’ ‘*Hie did not seem like a man who would do so; [ have thought that he fell overboard.” ‘*Thank you; I merely desired your version of the affair; good-afternoon, Mr. Prince.” “Stay, Helen; one moment, please,” he cried, eagerly. Well, sir?” ‘* Helen, will you ever be thus cold to me? Will you never again love me?” * Never!” Without another word she swept from the house, and again Burton Prince felt that his own act had divided him forever from that senna woman, whom he. now loved more f an he had ever believed his nature capable of oving. From the: handsome brown-stone mansion of banker Prince Helen drove to the hotel where Colonel Castleton had his bachelor quarters and lived in luxurious ease, That gentleman was surprised with her card, ge he was preparing for a drive in the ar’ ‘Mrs. Helen Burton—ha! It is my beauty! Ask her into my parlor, Ayoob,” he said to his carbene Hindoo servant, who acted as his valet. Helen entered the sumptuously-furnished parlors, and, as she glanced around upon the articles of vertu, the works of art, in the way of statues and paintings, and the various things that denoted refinement and wealth in the oc- cupant of the rooms, she could but think that the colonel haa most delightful quarters and showed exquisite taste in their furnishing. Entering with the easy grace habitual to him, the colonel approached and said, in his suave way: ‘“‘Dear madam, I am honored; how can I serve you?” He felt that some deep motive had brought her there, and, as he gazed in her face, he men- tally decided that she was the most beautiful being he had ever looked upon. *‘Pardon my intrusion upon a_ bachelor’s sanctum, Colonel Castleton, but I came to ask you a few questions; in fact, as newspaper men say—to interview you.” ‘I am wholly at madam’s service,” was the polite reply. ‘** You were second to Mr. Basil Trevor in his duel with Ellis Linwood, a few days ago?” The colonel, ia spite of his nerve, gave a slight start; but the smile never left his face, and he answered; ‘“‘T had that honor; but, [ hope Madam Bur- ton has not to mourn a friend in Mr. Trevor?” ° “Yes, Mr. Trevor was my friend.”
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**T am so sorry; madam has my deepest sym- pathy.” ** Ashe was my friend I have come to hear from your lips an account of the affair, from beginning to end.” ** With pleasure, soca we have kept the cause out of the papers. It was an insult from Mr. Linwood to Trevor at the gambling-table, and resented by a blow it brought a chal- enge. “*T acted for Mr. Trevor and carried him to the field in my yacht,” “ And he had perfect confidence in you, as his second?’ The question struck home, and the colonel’s face changed color, but he replied; ‘* Why should he not have?” ‘*Tt has been said that he doubted there being Spall in the pistol when you first handed it to im “Yes, he fired at a bird near and killed it; but I believe he did that to break down Lin- wood’s nerve, and who was a dead shot.” ** And he could have killed Mr. Linwood had he so wished?” “Undoubtedly; but, to what do these ques- tions tend, madam?” ** As you said you were so wholly at my ser- vice, of course you will pardon me if I continue.” The colonel bowed, but it was evident that those splendid, searching eyes, looking upon his face, were making him decidedly uneasy. ‘*Mr. Trevor accompanied you to sea, I be- lieve?” ‘Yes, I deemed it best to land him in Con- necticut, or Rhode Island, should Linwood die.” ** Ah! your forethought was most kind.” Tne colonel did not know how to take this re- mark and merely bowed, while Helen continued: ‘*Will you tell me how you came to lose him overboard ?” * A clear case of suicide, I think, as he seemed very gloomy after the duel.” : ‘*Was there any one on your yacht unfriend- ly to him?” ¥ There were only myself and crew on board, ma i ‘¢ And neither had cause to wish Mr. Trevor out of the way?” “Pardon me, madam, but you are question- ing me ina manner Ido not like, and unless you give me a motive I must decline answer- ing,” and though the colonel spoke with the ut- most politeness in tone, it was evident that he was considerably annoyed, and had Helen been a different woman from what she was, the in- terview would have terminated long before. “My motive is to ascertain whether Mr. Tre- vor came to his death by accident, suicide, or design—if the latter, my motive will be to dis- cover his murderer.” ““T have given you my opinion, madam; can i ny or do more?” “TI thank you, sir, and pardon the wo I have given you,” and Helen arose to take her departure, “One moment, please, madam; may I ask who sent you to me to make these inquiries?” For an instant Helen made no reply, and then she said, simply: “‘Zaidah, the Red Witch,” “That woman!” But, Helen had gone, and Colonel Brete Cas- tleton was alone with his thoughts, which were certainly not of a pleasant nature, for he grum- bled forth: '“T have met her at last, and—curse her! Ido not like her, for she is a perfect devil, and I must look out, for she means mischief,” and smoothing the frown from nis brow the elegant colonel went out for a walk. In the meantime Helen returned to her home and dismissed her carriage until after dinner, when, shortly after dark, she again entered it and drove away, this time to the residence of lawyer Livingstone, who seemed very much flurried by her coming. “T called to ask if you had received any tidings of my little protegée, Florette?”? ‘None at all, my dear Mrs. Burton, though I have had detectives daily at work; and you have heard no news?” ‘‘ Nothing; inform me the moment you hear,” and Helen drove away, leaving the lawyer standing bare-headed at the curbstone, for he had gone out to her carriage, and muttering: “Ts that woman playing me sharp, or not? One never knows exactly how to take a woman: but I must go up to see Linwood,” and calling a servant to bring him his hat he made the visit, and came upon the scene already described to f the reader. . . Leaving the fashionable part of; the city, _ / Helen drove down into the streets where dwelt ‘the poorer classes, and the stylish turnout soon 1 ‘ 4 4 ‘ 7 5 ; vw we * . : oe a } - A : pe \ drew up at the door of Florette’s former home, ene, to the wonder of the people in the hum- le street. Jicksey heard the excitement caused by the arrival, and recognizing the carriage approach- ed the door, bowing politely: ‘*Good-evening, missus; has yer found Flo- rette?” “No, Jicksey; I came to ask you if you had made any discovery?” ‘‘Not much, missus, and yet I seen a letter directed to Miss Florette Brandt, up at the sta- tion near where ther boss has his country home.” ‘* A letter addressed to her there, and by whom?” ‘Tt was in the gov’ner’s fist, missus.” “ Ah! he is then playing some game upon me; yet, why should he? But, I will know, an icksey, help me to find out. Here, take this money, and go up there to-morrow, for you can in some way find out if Florette is there; help me in this and you will make far more money than in serving old Livingstone.” “Pll sarve you and Florette ’ithout pay missus, and I’ll go to-morrow, for I isn’t well and mout be worse in ther morning, mightn’t 1?” Helen smiled at the shrewdness of the youth, and again her carriage rolled eet through the streets, and half an hour after Ellis Linwood was startled to hear his servant announce a WES visitor. e had not fully recovered his equanimity after his scene with lawyer Livingstone, and said anxiously: ‘** A lady to see me?” ‘Yes, sir, and she’s a beauty!” ‘Who is she?” ‘*She’s the lady they call ‘The Princess,’ sir; I don’t know her name.” “Ah! show that lady in at once,” and Ellis Linwood endeavored to look | ing, while he settled himself and gracefully in his chair, muttering: ‘It a good thing the governor is sick and does not know what is going on; she received my letter then, and answers it in person, after I had given up all hope. Ab, Linwood, my boy, you are a sly dog with the girls, and it was a bold stroke, your writing to The Princess, asking if you might call,” and the young roué chuckled with delight at his power over women. Half-rising he greeted Helen as she swept into the room with the grace and _ of an empress, and he said in the pleasant way he so well knew how to assume: ‘*May a poor wounded devil beg pardon for asking you in here? butit was kind of you tocall.” ‘*Tt is of your wound that I would speak, Lr. Linwood, or rather—” A ‘‘ How good of you to think of me in my suf- ering. ‘Mr, Linwood, I see that you misunderstand my visit to you, so let me at once tell you that I received your insulting note and consigned it to the flames; had I a male protector, I would ask him to cane you for the impertinence.” “Surely there issome mistake,” Bespet Ellis Linwood, trembling in fear of another scene. “There is, sir: you simply mistake me.” ‘“‘Tben why did you come here?” he asked, al- most impertinently. “Toask you in regard to your duel with Basil Trevor, whom I almost regret, now that I know you, ave you your life, when he could so easily ave taken it.’ Ellis Linwvod winced as though in pain, and seeing that she had hit him in a vulnerable spot, Helen went on: ‘*T wish to ask one question of you, and that is, was Colonel Castleton a friend of Basil Tre- vor? ‘‘He appeared to be, and he acted as his second,” “Do you know of any motive why the colo- nel would wish Mr. Trevor out of the way?’ *T do not; why do you ask?” * Because J look upon the death of Basil Tre- vor as a most mysterious affair. Even to the | duel I may say.” ‘*You don’t mean—” ‘*T mean that you had better not send me any | more letters, sir; good-evening, Mr. Linwood,” | and Helen glided from the room, leaving Ellis Linwood speechless with amazement at her strange visit. * Another night like this will kill me out- right,” he groaned, and: he yelled for his ser- vant in a tone that brought that worthy with marked promptness. ‘**Put me to bed, and if any one elsé calls to | see me to-night say that I am dead and buried.” CHAPTER XXXI. JICKSEY’S DAY OFF, le and interest- ack comfortably s True to his determination to go upon the , You. for she’s been crazy ever since you lett.” poner, cui OF THE STREET. 4 x > en eee ee] hel eee ae ads 4 aie %, ct i - _ hunt fer Florette, Jicksey, at an early hour, 1 | \ . Dressi ¢ bimself in his best he sat down to a table an } wrote the following excuse to lawyer Livings one, for his non-appearance at the office that day: i “LAWYER LIVINGSTUN: “Boss: I is sick abed' this mornin’ with cramp colicks owin’ to eatin’ too much, so I can’t come round to work ter-day asI can’t sit up, ’ “Yours trooly, JroKsey,'} ss Having folded up this very transparent lie, his first attempt at letter-writing, but not ai lying by any means, Jicksey engaged the ser- vices of Baldy, the Bulldog, to carry it to its destination, and haying ascertained how he | could reach the home of the lawyer he set out for the depét, but by the way of the Belt Line — of cars, which carried him by the shipping, for the youth was a perfect ‘‘ wharf rat” and never _ allowed an opportunity to go by to visit the ; vessels at the dock, Having thus led himself into temptation, ; Jicksey determined to advance upon the place by water, as he caught sight of a sign r gs “Boats To Lzr.” Res Tt did not take him an instant to reach the dock, around which were moored a score of gayly-painted row-boats, with a little yacht an- chored here and there in their midst. ‘*] wants a boat, mister,” he said to the man. in charge. YS ‘¢ What for?” : “Why, te row, you greeny; you don’t think ~ I wants to eat it, does yer?” / ‘Can you row?” “Row yer grandmo*! In course I kin! What does yer take me fer?” : ; ‘A cheeky youngster that will get hurt if he keeps on,” retorted the man, angrily : ‘Oh, Lis cheeky! I has a brass cheek, I hare ime but I guesses I hain’t goin’ ter git hurted; but I> wants a boat for a row, no towboat, or canal cruiser, but a fust-class gentleman’s clipper, as I kin spin along lively, with a gal in the starn, for I has a piece o’ calico up ther river a bit.’”” “Two dollars a day, J charge.” ‘‘ All right; here’s yer duckits. Now send me off in fine style,” and having paid his money Jicksey descended the stairs and was soon seat- — ed in a light, two-oared row-boat, that he sent flying along up-stream, for he was certainly a fine oarsman, Settling down toa sony steady stroke, and with the tide in his favor, Jicksey swept ge rapidly past the upper streets of the na city, a: ; ealthy, admiring ei ee ts ee ie — eae b os ee re SC bees A> 2) Se = s* 4 Ss" = - aT i, : PRPS CL a Par ye we * anne , Ce ek NO te 1 ee she «< ioe the beautiful homes of the wi them to his heart’s content. After awhile he rested on hisoarsand glanced sce A at an overhanging cliff, whilehe gave ~™ vent to the following soliloquy: “Waal, ef thet hain’t a hows family w thar, I’m a liar from Liarsville; all they n is a Chinese an’ a Injun to make a meenagery, *kase ther’s a dog, a cat, a monkey, a parrot, a — snake, a ole nigger hen an’ ther de hisself ;. an’ jist look at thet red lady! I guessesI won’t — settle on thisheurstream— Oh hokey! jist hear thet wolf-dog howl! I’m off, Towser; don’t mind me, for I hasn’t no-desire to eome ashore, and don’t you forget it. Good-by, tom-cats, - snakes and all, for I is a-travelin’ further up ther river.” ; So saying Jicksey gave the home of the Red Witch a wider berth, and pulled rapidly away, his eyes still fixed upon the fascinating group | upon the cliff. A couple of miles further and he stopped — pulling aid looked around upon thecourseahead. “T's a good thing I stopped, or I’d ’a’ sunk ~ thet craft,” he said, as he saw a vessel Lyi 4 in his course, and not fifteen paces im, fe cn It was a large sloop-yacht, lying at anchor, ~*~ = as the tide had turned, the stern wasdowne ~~ stream. oN Finding that he was drifting back, he was. about to resume his oars and pull around the — ' yacht, when a sunny-haired head and smiling face suddenly appeared out of the companions way, and a sweet voice called out; te “Why, Jicksey!” ** Florette, it’s you, or I is blind.” ‘“ Yes, and have you come to see me?” A couple of strong pulls drew his boat under = the yacht’s stern, when Jicksey quickly made , fast, and said, earnestly: Ky ey | “Florette, l isas glad to see youasif Thad the measles, for I was a-lookin’ for you.”» “ Looking for me, Jicksey ?” 2 Se ‘It’s a wholesome fact; the missussent meafter z FAG * we esas Re SOT ey Pe aes ns ti { , Fe , ft ho ~ fi Rhee
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\ ———- _-"*Pl} not go back to her, Jicksey, because she rea is not my friend, or my brother’s; only playing @ part to keep me in her power.” ‘Plorette, you don’t mean it?” **T do, Jicksey, for I had full proof of it.” : ‘Then you ran away from her?” : “Yes, I did, and, ob, Jicksey, I have had ‘such a time, for lawyer Livingstone took me to his home, and then sent me up to his nice coun- periste, with such a nice lady for governess, i” intending to have me educated, and—” *‘Florette, thet ole boss o’ mine is a sharper; an’ he has some game to play, too, ag’in’ you, so ~ don’t pad trust him, for I has ears, an’I has heerd talk with a gentleman ’bout you.” ~ Oh, Jicksey!” * It’s truth; don’t you stay with him.” *T am not with him, for I wasstolen from his home at night, and who do you think by? You can’t guess,” “Guess I kin; that old Italian devil, Pietro.” **-Yes; but don’t speak against Pietro now, Jicksey, for he’s dead.” _ “Dead! I don’t believe it; he can’t die; he’s too bad.” Yes, Jicksey, he stole me away, and killed Mr. Livingstone’s fine dog, and was iy i me _ back to New York, for he struck me, Jicksey, - and hurt me; but this yacht ran over us, and Pietro was’ drowned, and Mr. Prince jumped into the river and saved me.” , “Glad you was picked up, Florette, but don’t believe Pietro was drowned, for he’s born to be hung, so he’ll turn up; but, is this the yacht of that young high-fiyer, Burton Prince?” es, Jicksey, and he saved my life, and says ; he will have poor brother Carl pardoned, and me will educate me—” : ‘** Words is cheap, but therée’s a premium on doings, Florette; guess he’ll be good enough to rf m you, too.” oa Oh, Jicksey, don’t talk that way; he is so ~~ *good to me.” = “Yes, a cat amuses a mouse afore it kills it; but, [ tell yer, Florette, thet man are a-playin’ _ @ game pot er, too, so, my advice is for yer to shake ’em all, and go back with me to ther boardin’-house; they is poor, thar, but they loves yer, an’ we'll gi’n yer a welcome as will blister yer heart.” . + “Jicksey, T am not happy here; I was hap- \- pier at the boarding-house than anywhere else, or I felt I was making some money for brother Carl when he comes out; I would like to go with Aa Seg but thereare three men on board, and they ‘ are lying asleep under the forward awning.” 5 hen I’ll come to-night for you; will you «+ go then?”. ‘ _ «Yes; but the men may discover us and at- ~. _ » tack you, Jicksey.” _ _ *@Guoss not; now I'll clear out, but I'll be on % hand to-night, for my name’s Jicksey,” and the See ragged outh let his boat drop back with the er de, while he sat ina brown study, evidently : planning some scheme for the rescue of Florette. At lengtlt his face brightened, and he pulled rapidly back toward New York. * ne ana CHAPTER XXXII. A DEEP PLOT AND A CLEVER RUSE, 4 | Wuen Florette discovered who it was that _ thad rescued her from death, she almost wish- ed she had drowned, so great was her dislike _ | for all who bore the name of Prince, for she looked upon the banker and his family as being the whole cause of Carl’s imprisonment. 5 eid when onal een . , Continuing his arguments, Burton Prince - __ urged that the little maiden should remain un- . der his care until her brother got out of prison, A and she consented to remain on board the yacht "until he looked up a suitable boarding-school to - \ which he intended sending her. 3 Having gained her promise to wait on board ~ until she heard from him, he anchored some *, ‘distance above the city and took his departure, put at the same time gave his sailing-master or- ders not to let her go ashore or communicate with any one. est He had hardly gone before Florette regretted her promise; but then he had seemed so kind and sincere, and she had been so knocked about _. from pillar to post that she determined to at Teast remain under Burton’s charge until she _ ¢ found out whether he was true or false. oa And in the midst of her determination ap- \ peared Jicksey upon the scene, with his stories » about Burton Prince, his doubts of lawyer Liv- ae we a va, oF - PLORETTE, CHILD O « 4h. 4 A \ B \ ‘ : oF Ss ct Bae 7 2! t eon as ae Oe tie? -* : ‘+ ‘ Se Set ee Oe a ~ ae ES Pes el Bs eee Yi bale etal re ee Pr Ki ae a yg ae; f im Se ee Rares BE ee Wet pe ng? Te, pS Set A ee te =, - a. ie Spe, ees ingstone, and remembering her experience with Pietro, the Italian, and her letter regard- ing the motives of Helen Burton for taking her, Florette was glad indeed to give up every other plan and adopt the suggestions of the street Arab who had ever been her friend. **Yes, I will go back once more to my little boarding-house,” she murmured, after rowed away, and seating herself in the cock- pit she watched a coming boat, with two oars- men and a person in the stern. ‘*Ttis Mr, Prince,” she said, as the boat head- ed for the yacht, and drew near enough for her to recognize the person in the stern-sheets, ‘‘ Well, my little ward, how are you to-day?” and Burton Prince sprung on board and ex- tended his hand, which Florette took, while she answered: “Oh, quite well, sir, thank you; only anxious to be settled.” ‘* And you shall be soon, for it is about that I have come, as I have arranged with Madame De Roux to have you attend her boarding- school, as it is the most fashionable and the best in the city.” ‘Thank you, sir,” said Florette, quietly. . *‘ And when you are settled there Iwill at once take steps to have the Governor pardon Carl, and can secure him a situation under Gov- ernment, for I have considerable influence with the Secretary of the Treasury at Washington.” ‘“‘Thank you, sir,” again came the quiet an- swer, and after a pause Burton Prince con- tinued: ‘*To-morrow the yacht will drop down oppo- site Twenty-third street, and I will come down and take you with me to a modiste who will provide your wardrobe complete; but there is one thing I wish particularly to speak to you about, and that is that, as you seem to doubt my good intentions, I will prove my truth by asking you to become my wife.” ay What! I marry you?’ and Florette’s large es dilated with intense astonishment. hy not, my dear? I am devotedly at- tached to you, and could teach you to love me; but, now I would only have you go through the ceremony with me, after which you could go to school for two oettat when you would be six- teen, and then I would claim you as my wife before the world,” ‘“No, no! I donot know what it is to Jove, Mr. Prince, and I cannot consent to bind my- self to youin that way, for I will believe you sincere without; besides, I am but a child, a poor little girl, and should not think of marry- ing one so rich as you are,” : : ‘If you will consent, Floretite, I will bring you_your brother’s pardon within the week.” “No, no, I cannot!” “Think; it will gain his freedom, and, as I said, you need only go through with the cere- mony, and then at once leave for school for two ears blue e ‘*No, brother Carl would not have me sacri- fice myself to gain his freedom.” ‘Ts it then such a sacrifice to become my wife? Why,I could marry any belle in New York society to-day, did I wish.” “T know it, and could I have saved my bro- ther from prison, I would have sacrificed my life; but not now, not now.” Burton Prince looked vexed; there was evi- dently some strong motive for wishing to unite to him in marriage this mere child; but he could not tempt her to consent, and felt that urging her did no good, so said: “Well, Florette, you know best; but make me one promise.” **Whatis it?” “That you will not engage yourself to any one without my consent; for you know I um your rdian, now,” he added, with a smile. ‘* Oh, I never think of beaux, and will make that promise, sir,” she said, indifferently. ‘*Thank you, and remember that I have of- fered to make you my wife, for I love you, Florette, child though you be, and when you finish tra school-days, I will repeat my offer, so try hard to love me,” and after giving a few orders to his sailing-master, and promising to come after Florette the next day, Burton Prince took bis ey ge in his boat, and just at sun- set reached the dock where Jicksey had rented his boat. As he landed, he saw a motley set shove off in a large row-boat, but, with one glance at them, he passed on, little knowing that their destination was his own yacht, their purpose to take Florette from his power. With amused faces, a few idlers stood on the dock, gazing at the boat and its occupants, and indeed they were a mirth-provoking set, for Jicksey, as captain, held the tiller, Tip, the newsboy, and Professor Romeo held oays aft, F THE STREE icksey |- A a, ee a ee a ee RS. and Baldy, the Bulldog,'and Milky Jim, a coal- biack negro, were bow-oarsmen, “What do you call that crew?’ asked a by- stander on the dock. “They are the Harvards and Yales, consoli- dated,” cried an urchin of twelve, who seemed to be well posted on boating matters. “You is a liar; we is ther Florette Brandt boarding-house crew, out on a moonlight water excursion,” called out Jicksey, and giving the order to shove off, the boat moved slowly away up the river. It was dark before they passed the cabin of the Red Witch, and Jicksey, remembering the occupants, gave it a wide berth; but, to all ears came the mournful howling of the large dog, and the parrot yelled, lustily: ‘‘ Murder! murder! murder!” This rather shook the courage of the rescue erew, and Milky Jim suggested an immediate return to the brightly illuminated city, adding: ‘ “*T hain’t no country nigger; I likes towns, I oes. Arriving in sight of the yacht, Jicksey called out to cease rowing, and drawing out a large bundle from under the stern seat, he said: ‘*Professer, here’s ther clothes for you and Baldy; put ’em on now, and here’s ther docki- mint that’ll do ther biz, and it’s fust-class, for I writ it myself, and pasted on it the seal o’ ther boss, until it looks like a order for a hangin’.” Ina few moments the Professor and Baldy were rigged out in second-hand suits of police uniform, shields, clubs, hats and all, and the former carried in his pocket a forged order for the arrest of Florette Brandt, who was to be - taken at once before the nearest City Justice. ‘Boat ahoy!” sung out a seaman on the yacht, as the boat approached, “Sing out to him, Professor,” said Jicksey. ‘We are officers of the law, and have orders to board your vessel,” called out the Professor, and Jicksey steered the boat under the yacht’s stern, and the two supposed policemen sprung on board. “Ts there a young girl on board this eraft by the name of Fioretio Lrandt?” asked the Pro- fessor, pompously. ‘Yes, sir; she is under the charge of my em- ployer, Mr. Burton Prince,” answered the sailing-master. “T am sorry, sir, but I have an order for her arrest.” ‘‘Her arrest? Why, what can she have done?” demanded the sailor, in surprise. ‘* That is to be seen, sir; in the name of the law, whose majesty I trust you will in no way resist, [command you to produce the body of the said Florette Brandt, spinster.” This was too much for the sailing-master, and seeing the paper, with its red seals, in the Pro- fessor’s hands, he quickly called out to Florette to come on deck. The young girl instantly obeyed, and at a glance recognized her old boarders disguised as policemen, yet showed no sign of recognition, as she said: “T overheard you, sir; if I am arrested, I must go.” “T am sorry, miss; but the Jaw compels its officers to do their duty. Are you ready?” ““Yes,” and five minutes after the boat was on its way back to the city, and within two hours Florette was once more mistress of her old home, while all hands, even to Mrs. O’Gor- man, were dancing a jubilee in welcome, CHAPTER XXXII. NOT DEAD, LAWYER LIVINGSTONE sat alone in his private office, and his brow was troubled, for he had not been able to discover aught of Florette, who had been so mysteriously stolen some time be- fore from his country home. In the front office sat Jicksey, an innocent ex- pression upon his face, but a quiet twinkle of contentment in his black eyes, for he was happy, now that Florette was once more dis- charging the functions of ‘‘ boarding-house mis- sus ” at the old home, and complacently listened each day to lawyer Livingstone’s offer of one hp dollars for the discovery of the miss- ing girl. “Well, old Macaroni, what do you want? I wasin hopes you was dead,” said Jicksey, as he looked up and saw the evil face of Pietro, the Italian, peering in at the door, and looking pale and haggard. With Florette Jicksey had believed the Italian drowned on the night of the adventure on the river, and it was a surprise to see him there; but the young aspirant for legal lore was not one to exhibit surprise at anything. ‘*Me a-wanta see lawyer Livingstone.” “And I guesses he wants to see You: if he — aon
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-young b ot sn eg: F don’t the hangman does,” was Jicksey’s not very complimentary rejoinder. ' The Italian scowled and dropped his hand upon the knife in his bosom, as was habitual with him when augered. **Oh, you needn’t kill me, old Macaroni, for ou’ve done enough already to string yer up; ut I’ll tell the boss ther Diablo Diablissimo, as We say in Italian, is desirous o’ seein’ him,” and Jicksey made known to the lawyer who was outside, ‘Pietro? Ah! Show him in at once.’ “Skip in, Macaroni; but I guesses it won’t be long afore you is fired out, for he told me he _ Was goin’ ter give yer ther grand bounce.” With a muttered curse at the youth the Italian Sntered the private office, “Well, Pietro, you have come to tell mo about the girl, and get your reward, I sup- pose?” ““No, cursa the girl; she giva me mucha trouble,” and seeming to feel that the lawyer knew that he had stolen Florette away, with ready wit he determined to — falsehood to his aid, and tell him that he had kidnapped the young girl, and was oe her to the city to give up to him, pretending that he did not ow that it was the lawyer’s own home, and himself, that he had taken her from. ide & ou egregious fool, that was my home you took her from, for I had found her some ' time before and sent her there.” Pietro feigned surprise well, and then entered upon a torrent of profanity against the dog that had bitten him, and Burton Prince, whose yacht d run him down. “What! he ran you down, and then saved ber? After all she isin his power?’ exclaimed the lawyer. “Ttella you true, signor; he nearla drowna me; but I swim good and get’shore; but I sick for some time, and sick now.” “Yes, you don’t seem to be in the best health or spirits; but where is the girl now?” ‘*He hava her; but I will geta for you, if you Paya me monna.” ‘Perhaps it would be more economical for me to get her myself.” ** Me hava a secret; he killa man.” *“ What! Burton Prince killed a man?” St Yes: a a mucha monna for secret?” **Yes, I will pay - well, for I can clip his Wings and get the girl and her— Never mind what, Pietro; but go on and tell me,” “Where monna?” ‘**How much?” laconically asked the lawyer. ** Two thousand dollar.” “You are ’way up, my honest fellow; come down a thousand.” “No! Hava good secret; man killa—beauti- ful lady with him—me tella her name—Helen.” ** Ah!” and lawyer Livingstone was upon his feet in an instant. ‘You can tell a secret of murder that will inculpate Burton Prince and Helen Burton?” ' “é Yes. ” “Then make it known to me and I will give you a check for two thousand dollars,” “No wanta check; maka bad for me at banka.” ‘*You are right; then I will give you the money, for I will send to the bank for if.” ‘Me tella you,” and in his broken English Pietro went on to tell his story, and the eyes of the lawyer opened with astonishment and twinkled with delight. ** Now, Pietro, you must go to police head- quarters and make your charge; refer to me in the matter, and Burton Prince will be arrested, and you and the woman must appear against him; it will be a bombshell in hizh life, ut it _ will give me an opportunity to be the friend of Helen Burton in the matter, and with this young man hanged for murder, or sent for life o the penitentiary, I can get full charge of— Never mind, Pietro, you are too good a listener, and twice have nearly caught, with your quick ears, a little secret I have. ‘*Now here is your money, so go and make your charge against Burton Prince,” and law- yer Livingstone rubbed his hands in glee, for it was a happiness for him to be able to bring the er down from his high position in society. Going home early, that day, lawyer Living- stone awaited anxiously the coming out of the afternoon’s paper, and securing one he rushed up to his daughter’s room, crying: Bella weed child, listen to this! Here is a\ bombshell in high life, that will drag down some proud heads,” and he read aloud as follows; “A STARTLING DISCOVERY! ! * Ong or Our Most Prominent Citizens Accusep “oF Murper! fae me FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET. “BURTON PRINCE IN THE TOMBS! ** An ITALIAN’sS Accusation! “ Quilty, or Not Guilty? “A WOMAN IN THE CASE! “The community will be shocked to learn that Mr. Burton Prince, the well-known banker, was arrested at his office to-day upon a charge of murder, brought ainst him by an Italian, who swears that he saw him commit the deed. “The Italian, whose name is Pietro Avilla, says that he was traveling on foot through Connecticut some year or more ago, and stopped to rest. beneath the shade of a cedar thicket, upon the banks of the Housatonic river. ** Dropping off tosleep he was awakened by voices, and discovered two persons quarreling, one of these being Mr. Burton Prince, and the othera lady known as Mrs. Helen Burton, but famous here as The Prin- cess, on account of her wondrous beauty and royal style. 1 The cause of the quarrel, Pietro says, was jeal- ousy, as near as he could learn, and they parted in anger; but, shortly after, another person appeared upon the scene, for the woman remained where Bur- ton Prince had left her. ‘This third person was a discarded lover of the lady’s, it seems; and again a quarrel ensued, which was suddenly interrupted by a rifle-shot, and the man staggered back and fell over the precipice into theriver below, while Mr. Prince, whom the Italian says fired the shot, ran rapidly away. ‘ Officers have gone up to the village, near where the scene occurred, to investigate the truth or falsity of the Italian’s statement, and until their return both Mr. Prince and Pietro will be held in the Tombs, while Mrs. Helen Burton will also be arrested, it is said. Having finished reading this garbled state- ment of the Italian, lawyer Livingstone order- ed his carriage and drove to the home of Helen Burton, in the hail of whose home he found a policeman on duty; but Helen met him with a calm face and placed her case in his hands. But there was something in her face he could not understand, and promising to come again soon, he departed, while she, as she returned to her room, muttered through her set teeth: “‘Chance has given me the opportunity I sought to avenge myself upon Burton Prince. So be it; I will let the Italian tell his story, as he threatened here, the other day, when 1 re- fused his exorbitant demands for hush-money. “Til not say whe did the deed, and Burton Prince will suffer the pom for indirectly he was the cause of poor Edgar Monkton’s death,” CHAPTER XXXIV. GUILTY, OR NOT GUILTY? Durine the few weeks that followed the ar- rest of Burton Prince for murder, New York fashionable life was all agog with excitement, for the young banker lay in, the Tombs, with every prospect of being found guilty, and a quiet wedding at the house of lawyer Living- stone had made his lovely daughter Mrs. Ellis Linwood. The marriage of his son, so soon after his duel and severe wound, and especially his alliance with the daughter of lawyer Livingstone wholly upset old Mr, Linwood, and he faile rapi yr until three days after the wedding he died, but bitterly he revenged himself upon Elis, for he cut him off without a dollar, leay- ing his vast wealth to charitable purposes. Of course Ellis Linwood swore loudly, and cursed his father’s memory, but lawyer Living- stone gave no vent to his profanity, though he mentally called the old man hard names, and registered a mighty oath, if there was law that he would break the willin behalf of his son-in- law, and at once commenced a suit for that pur- se, eee for Bella, she was happy in being the wife of the only man she ever loved, and her perfect devotion to him softened the heart of Ellis Linwood, especially as he was now dependent upon his salary at the insurance company, and the dowry of his lovely wife. ; While society was excited over this marriage, the trial of Burton Prince was called, and from the very first it looked bad for him. Of course the court-house was crowded with the élite of the metropolis, and eagerly all lis- tened to the testimony of the witnesses sum- moned from the Housatonic valley, and learned how poor Edgar Monkton had been missing since the time set by the Italian for the murder, and that the man killed was, according to Pietro’s description of him, none other than the unfortunate school-teacher, Then the story of his love for Helen came out, and of his being discarded by the village beauty, for the handsome and rich young. banker, about whom and the maiden there were dark insinuations made. ‘ That Burton Prince always, when wandering through the valley and mountains, carried his Mah OE. Tarheel ake Wi PS ah t aAiny op CANT Pe oie rifle, was also proven, and not one doubted tha hay cg story; but, why had he kept the secret so long : This he answered by saying it was not his Ae business to tell; but when he found the secret preying heavily upon his conscience, he at last wade up his mind to make a clean breast of it, and had consulted lawyer Livingstone upon the subject, and was told by him that it was his duty to do so. oe And then Helen was called to the stand, and admitted having been once engaged to Edgar Monkton, and breaking with him when she met Burton Prince. . v The quarrel she also admitted, the departure of Burton Prince, who left her upon the cliff, | and that he had his rifle with him. She volunteered nothing; looked the prose- cuting lawyers firmly in the face, and answered th every question in a 3 distinct tone, but said not a word more than she had to, ** And did Edgar Monkton join youafterMr. ~ Prince left?” asked the district-attorney, and every ear was strained for the answer. “Yes. é Burton Prince now eagerly leaned forward rs and riveted his eyes upon her face, for he felt 2 that she had brought this charge against him in. revenge for his treatment of her, and the reader will remember that he did not know of there * having been a death-shot given there. . Did you have a quarrel with Mr, Monk- a ton? | “cc Yes.” sae there a shot fired while you were with ig ; “Yes.” / * Did it take effect?” 1 ce Yes. ” ; “Upon whom?” “Edgar Monkton!” A grand sensation in court at this reply caused the judge to call for order, . . “* Who fired that shot?” 1 Sana “J did not see the person at the time the shot = was fired.” ’ : (And it killed Mr. Monkton?” BN : es yA oy A. es, i. “He fell at your feet?” io) eg Be he staggered back and fell over the ~~ cliff.” eee ‘* Where did the bullet strike him?” ‘*T saw a blood-stain on his forehead.” *“*Did you see the one who fired, after the fatal shot?” se Yes. ” - ‘Is the prisoner that one?” i; “T decline to answer.” Regie Another sensation followed, and every eye a was turned upon Helen; but she stood the OF) 2a deal bravely, while her broken-hearted mother, who sat near her, sobbed like a child. a. With circumlocutory questioning thelawyers — tried to draw Helen out to say more, but it was F impossible; she would. not say that Burton Prince fired the fatal shot, and it was supposed that she pitied him and wished tosavehim,and — for that reason would not charge him with the —__ murder. ments pro and con, the case — was given to the jury, and a verdict was at once returned, when the judge asked: om ‘“What say you, gentlemen of the jury—is the prisoner at the bar guilty or not guilty?” ; There was the silence of death in the court- room and every eye was turned upon the fore- aN man, as he said, ina deep, impressive voice; = = Gwilty |” At heart Burton Prince was a fearless man, and he received the sentence withoutthe tremor of a nerve—that within six weeks he wasto be Pag peu by the neck until he was dead, dead, - ead! ; - eee Hardly had the words left the lips of the ~~ judge, when a man entered hastily, andsaidin — a loud, ringing voice: : ee ‘“* Hold! that man is not guilty!” — % Every one started, and all eyes were turned © upon the speaker, while from scores of li os. broke the cry: N “ Téis Basil Trevor !” ; bi “Tam Basil Trevor, a Bohemian artist, sup- ~§ posed to be dead, but arrived intime to show you the crime of pa, toed amanoncircumstan- tial evidence, for I killed Edgar Monkton!” ~~. Here, indeed, was a sensation, when, in \ ae clear tones, Basil Trevor, as elegant in manner and as handsome as ever, went on to tell how ae he had accidentally come bo the struggle up- ag on Lover’s Leap between gar Monktonand == Helen Boyd, and had fired just intime to saye | her from a fearful death. ae “Why did you not admit thatBurton Prince was not the one who fired the fatal shot, for, by not so doing, it was believed that he was guilty — te F a4 3 i we '
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ee TA te ied ate Ber a eee a ee el. eS See ee ar By Pe he ee ae gh, Bo en PN gee pt Le CAP aes oil ae } 2 . bt pe a : ae = \ ° PSs oF . y . Pa a ' r ¥ ioe } 1 ok 7 7 er Ga & a 2 f e f = ; Poy PRORETTE,- CHILD “OF ‘THE = ee aE, EE aS the jury : ; ! Bis a ” demanded the judge steriily of | at your tather’s, and made the stakes a kiss SK of the character of Carl Brandt, known as eta Belen: but Basi] Trevor quickly answered: against a promise.” Carl, the convict, since he has been in prison, ‘ i ““ Because we both swore not to divulge that | “You suggested the kiss, 1 believe, which [| 2nd all other particulars regarding his stay fe secret, and, even though believing me dead, she | put poe your promise to grant me any re-| there. } bi would not lay the deed against me.” quest I might ask of you within the year, and]| The secretary disappeared, and the Governor. Sa “No,” and Helen arose; “I had another mo- | won.” after a long and thoughtful silence, turned , ee tive—revenge! That man, Burton Prince,found | ‘Yes, I am sorry to say, Miss Marion, that | 28am to Marion: | ‘ me a pure, innocent girl; but by a false mar- | you won.” Your brother is now under heavy bail, and i é | “| riage, which I Believed legitimate, he so terri- | ‘‘ Then you wish to retract?” charged with murder.” : | bly betrayed my trust in him, that my fond | ‘Oh, no; Lam only sorry I lost my bet; my e is, sir; but, though there are circum- | ' . ove was turned to bitterest hate, and it has | stakes are subject to your order,” assented the | Stances that point tbat td hg ati ms ) murder, He is ' been the one wish of my life that he should | Governor, gallantly. not believe him guilty o Me stand forth before the world the realscoundrel | ‘‘ But I shall ask no ordinary favor; it will be | tried on Monday. Lp : ; that heis. Ishould not have seen him hung, | something that will be connected with your of- I hope he will prove his innocence in that, - but I would have made him know that he was | ficial powers.” as well as in this bank matter.” / im the power and wholly at the mercy of the.| ‘Ah! did Lrefer to such being the stakes?” Ah, sir, he cannot be accused openly of the woman he had wronged. “Oh, no; nothing was said of what might be | latter. I ask the pardon of Carl Brandt, believ- | _ “TJ didnot accuse him of the murder; that base | the character of the favor you would grant me, | ing him innocent, but the world must not know . © Italian tried to get me to pay him to keep the | and I have taken advantage of that circum- that my brotheris guilty. Yet, if I really knew _, ~ secret, but I refused, and, in spite, he made the | stance to ask you to extend mercy in a certain Burton to be the criminal, I would not shield * charge. Burton Prince has escaped the gal- | case.” : him, and have Carl Brandt bear the crime.” ' lows, for which I am not sorry, but the end has “Tf in my power, Miss Marion, I will do You are a noble girl, Miss Marion, and your ' not vet come.” ” love for this Mr. Brandt causes me to believe ag ie Like a princess, indeed, did Helen sweep out | ‘Then I will briefly give you the facts of the | Youdo— Ah, here is Pelham—well, sir?” _ __ of the court-room, while the friends of Burton | case: a young man of good family, his father The answer is most favorable, sir, in every |. Prince pressed around him to offer their con- | being a clergyman, upon his term ending at | Particular; the man has never had a reproof _- ‘gratulations upon his escape, and among the | college, found himself cast upon the world, pen- aenecr pees | there—keeps to himself—does his f _ crowd were Colonel. Brete Castleton and Mrs. | niless, and with a sister to support, for his par- | WOT’ © h Fe re tae Saperinienilew eee Si, Barl. ents were dead, and they had beeri poor. y ree show him mercy. n : sa But, while congratulations warmly fell upon | _ “At college he met my brother, whom you | _. ee ou, Pelham,” and, turning to Ma- _ ~ his ears, an officer of the law stepped forward, | know, and Burton extended to him a pecuniary | 792, F e — iotilder of the | favor, and. strange as it may seem, upon his My dear young lady, Iam glad to hear so young banker, said, in a loud tone: coming to New York he saved my life— good a report, and I promise you that upon the “Mr, Prince, in the name of the law,I ar-| ‘‘Ah, I remember the circumstance; your | 2@y,the trial against you brother ends, I will rest you.” horses were running away with you.” send you a full pardon for Carl Brandt, and I “In God’s name, what have I done, now?’ |“ Yes, sir, and in checking them he had his | Will have paid mny wager, lost at cards.” cried the prisoner, almost unnerved. arm broken, Refusing the large sum my father Pee oe ss Governor, Marion departed ‘ “The charge against you, sir, is robbery,” | upon finding him poor, offered him, he accepted | With a happy heart; mg bitterly was it wrung . answered the officer, a position in the bank, and met there the junior | during the trial of her brother, that followed, + “Robbery! Hah! who dares make this | partner,an ex-naval officer, whom this young | the next week, and se heard from her father charge?’ man had served under when a cabin-boy in the | the bitter tidings that he had, on circumstantial “1 do, sir! Officer, do your duty,” and a tall, | navy, and who had saved: the boy’s life by | ¢Vidence, been found guilty, x et, saved by the slender man, with beardless face, and dark-blue | jumping overboard after him into the sea. coming of Basil Trevor, had then been sent eyes ste forward and confronted Burton | ‘For some time all went well, and the new | t© prison under the charge of robbery. rince; but he, nor any one else appeared to | clerk was liked and respected by all, until one Oh, poor, poor Burton! I would almost _ recognize the stranger. night my brother left the safe-keys in his keep- | Tather have him a murderer than a thief, for “And who are you, sir?” angrily demanded | ing, and ten thousand dollars were found gone | 0n¢ may be the act of impulsive anger, while the young banker, while his father, who had | in the morning.” the other can only be deliberate crime, fi, been. a silent, but deeply interested witness of “T remember; the young man confessed his | prompted by om evil heart. {Oh, father, what _.. the whole trial, said, in trembling tones: it.” is to be done?” and r Marion wept convul- Bos “ oe ', : “HL : : sively, while banker Prince, with stern face and he boy?” ho @re you, sir, that thus accuses my e ens emir oe a guilt, yes, Governor, but set lips, paced to and fre, muttering: \ __.*That, sir, Mr. Burton Prince will soon| _ “Then he was a fool, Miss Marion,” bluntly i feared trouble for that boy, he was so wild _ find out to his cost,” was the answer of the | declared the Governor. and extravagant; but, 1 would give my fortune stranger. “No; he sacrificed himself for others, for I | t save his honor, Site . “There is some mistake, Prince, and I will | have sifted the case well. There were but three A send agg: for you, miss,” said a servant, _ accompany you to the prison and see about it,” | persons who could have taken the money that entering the library. , where banker Prince and said Colonel Castleton. night: one, my brother, before he gave up the | Marion sat in grief and bitterness of heart. “Yes, there is some mistake,” added Mrs. | keys—the junior partner, Mr. Harvey De Vigne, Eagerly she opened the envelope and read: Earl. who visited the bank at midnight—and the one “T have received by telegraph the result of the “Is your name Castleton—Brete Castleton, I speak of, Carl Brandt. trial: am glad his innocence was proven on the one sir?” and the officer turned toward the colonel, | ‘‘ But my brother had helped him pecuniarily achat urit om exceedingly this second accusa- who haughtily replied: . | when in great distress, and Mr. De Vigne had whine pardotry scone’ dhe d 9 “ Tt is, : saved his life, and he sacrificed himself. ito save Th or 3G “Then, Ihave an order for your arrest, and | whichever one of the two he believed tobe the tebe shone signature, but Marion knew ours, too, madam, if you are Mrs. Victoire guilty one.” well from whence it came, and her face flushed he | ** You make a strong case of it, Miss Marion, aa oho tayned toward her father and said: - “Hold! ‘You are going too far, officer,” cried | and a romantic one; but had he any other mo- ave a confession to make to you, father; - the colonel, but he decpoedl very pale, as did also | tive?” but you will forgive me, I know, when I te Mrs. Earl. ‘* Not unless this be one, sir; it is anonymous, | YOU all,” and she did tell him of her love for ““T know my duty, sir, and you and Mrs, and I received it some time since,” and she |. C@"! Brandt, and his amazing devotion to her. Earl are my pr.soners.” handed the Governor a letter, which he opened | 224 how she had visited the Governor in behalf Smee onon what charge 6 this arrest, Bol- and read aloud: Of When sie hedl Aaished her father paced to and ton?’ asked old banker Prince, ‘““*Tg Miss Marion Prince too blind to discover, or A ; e an be S Murder !” is she intentionally determined not to see the motive fro in deep thought, and then said; - “ ; The answer caused a general outcry, whe that prompted Carl Brandt to accuse himself. of “Marion, do you know I am as fully con- - from out of the crowd Ftapped Basil Trevor’ a 2 ; , vinced of the innocence of Carl Brandt as you ee data aloud: ; ’ If so, I will offer a suggestion: Carl Brandt | are, for—for—I have found that I could not (Ves. I charze Brete Castleton and Victoire knew that Burton Prince robbed the bank, and laid | trust my own son. Thank God, the Governor Bari with murder, and Iwill prove my words,” | Sindog in at the tine of the discovery of the thar, | Bas par oned that poor boy, and when he re- : the man sacrificed himself to save the wicked bro. | STDS here I shall make him cashier in Burton’s : ; ther of the woman he loved more than all else in the place. ? : e CHAPTER XXXV. world.’” e Oh, father!” a2 jon i CH! i MARION’S APPEAL. “This is a remarkable communication, Miss | ,, iver i From the penitentiary to the - ‘Tux Governor of the great State of New York | Marion; but, let me ask you one question: did | P®* 2° Sali go, let the world say what it will.” gat alone in his home in the capital, looking over | you know that this man loved you?” his private correspondence, when his servant in “T did,” answered Marion, and her face be. mA B77," waiting et cage hyve : che ‘ yey a oes she s a firmly. , CHAPTER XXXVI. _ “Why, it is the daughter of my old frien ‘And you—pardon me if I seem curious? } y bei _ Prince, As as I have at that her brother is **Love him in return,” was the candid re SUNSHINE AND SHADOW, Ir was a blustering, stormy night, and few persons dared face the fury of the elements Bs * in trouble, she has doubtless come to plead for ae after darkness settled down upon the city. sponse, ‘ him. Ah me, the lot of an Executive is a hard ** But he is a convict.” - one,” and having thus mused half aloud he bade | * “ Yet innocent—a blameless man. Now, that : Reece tant show the lady in. I recall his manner on that day, I feel that he ointhe Sie ee Biprngscavec he of |” It was Marion Prince, pale, and a little ner-| did sacrifice himself to save my poor brother, | Genét’ and hurriedly w - 4 fe ushed into the “yous, yet more beautiful than ever. - | whose extravagance has driven him to this act, | buttoning his coat y walked down the aenent ‘ i rion, this is indeed an honor, | for Burton was eyer wild and wayward.” & at up around his throat an : : | And you wish this man, Carl Brandt, par- bending his head to the storm. . ernor, politely advancing to meet her, doned?” “ »P As if familiar with the city, he wended his ees | 7 , way along on foot, unmindful of the hor: 3 . : “Thank you, Governor, and Ihave comees-| ‘‘I do, sir.” that passed him, and Lappase 2a "| pecially to See ‘you, for have you forgotten a | The Governor touched a bell and told the ser- | gnoo ¥ not being ah eta oe peneres apRreat: Wager yeb unpaid which you owe me?” vant, who appeared, to send his private secre- T “Ah, had you been in my debt it would never tary to him. ‘3 , ! the epee Vie yo sictn peters be ‘ escape my mind; I remember now, you in- Mr. Pelham,” he said, when that personage | given his pardon, a railroad ticket toNew York, | yeigled me into a gameof cards, the day I dined appeared, ‘telegraph at gnee to Sing Sing, and | | 43%, eS eee iN y's Te," ; ce > Paced * j ASA ae My ie / § ‘ } NM ot ae R w e ca yi rakag RAR 1. tig ; wt i LLC pte Lae Ni AN oat opiate as bole ern, j el ge der 9 aa a ee RR ee Mo Rea ete to Cle
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Re itcomeM: taeke } me he = Fait a { > is ‘ ma a piece of advice from the superintend- ent, He had taken all three kindly, bade farewell to the gloomy walls of Sing Sing, and once more he found himself in the great metropolis, So full of sinners unpunished and of innocent Persons accused of guilt; so full of crime riot- ing under the shadow of the churches, and of masks of virtue that hide deformed hearts. Remembering where Florette had told him that she lived and kept boarders, Carl Brandt wended'his way thither, and, reaching the un- Pretentious dwelling, he paused in the doorway and listened, for there came to him the soft music of harp-strings, and above them a sweet Voice that he knew well, It was after supper in the ‘‘ Florette Ranch,” as Jicksey called her home, and, being a stormy night, the boarders had lingered indoors, while lorette, as was her custom, was singing for them upon a harp which they had clubbed to- gether and bought for her, even Mr. O’Gorman Sacrificing the pleasure of his week’s spree to 8ive his allowance. . A moment the pera’ f drenched man with- Out stood looking through the half-open door, his handsome, intelligent face very pale and wan, and his dark eyes drinking in the scene. At last, choking back his emotion, he stepped to the door and threw it open, appearing there like a full-length picture in a frame. One glance, and, with a shriek of joy, Florette tottered forward and fell in his arms, for she was Overcome with emotion; and thus brother and sister stood, united once more. But the boarders were on the qui vive, and, at once suspecting that Carl had escaped, they determined to protect him against all odds. Baldy, the Bulldog, sprung to the door, shouting, in a loud whisper: “Give yer sis a greetin’, Carl, an’ I'll guard ther door and break ther head o’ ther first cop 4s puts his mug in here,” “That’s so, we'll fire ’em out the window, you bet!” cried icksey, seizing a oker, while Zip, the Professor and Milky Jim also stood on the defensive. | ‘*No, no, my friends, there is no need for / your protection, for I have been pardoned,” Said Carl, in a trembling voice, and with a yell they rushed forward to grasp his bard in éon- sratulation, though Baldy and Jicksey were a ' | ittle disappointed to have the romanice of an Ore upset by the reality of a pardon. ‘‘And this is your home, little sister?” said Carl after awhile. ‘It aré thet, an’ we'll jist skip outside an’ Sve yer ther benefit of it, seein’ as yer is com- pany,” announced Jicksey, with considerable thoughtfulness, “Yes, we'll see yer at breakfast,” said Baldy, and shaking hands with Florette and Carl, the oarders, diamonds in the rough, departed, and si brother and sister, so long parted, were left one. And, talking over their sorrows and joys, we will leave them, dear reader, for upon that Scene even the pen of the narrator should not intrude. The sun arose bright and beautiful, chasing away the clouds of storm of the night, and while Florette prepared her breakfast Carl] and the “boarders” sat around talking. “And yer say yer don’t know why yer was Pardinge out?” asked Baldy. No; it was a surprise to me, I assure you. Ah, Jicksey, let me see your paper,” and Carl eagerly stretched forth his hand for the morn- tug Herald, which Jicksey had just brought in. “Ha! what is this? “Burton Prince to be be immediately for robbery,” exclaimed Bone Yes, I did not tell you that he had been ar- rested the very day his trial for murder was ver,” and Florette gave her brother a hasty putline of the other charge against the young anker, . But, who is his accuser?” ; it 0 one, othe¥ than the authorities, knows, Seems; but he says he will prove him guilty, and the trial will show.” es, the trial will show,” remarked Carl, say and he turned to the “ Professor” who EE «Ah, here is a Personal for you.” «eor me? a Personal?” hg Even so; read for yourself,” and the Pro- . Bet handed him the outside sheet of the MS ®rald, adding: “I always read the Personals, Ve ting one of these days some one will ad- mete for me to come and get a fortune left Carl Brandt took the paper and read alou “ied & puzzled look upon hi face: - a: at Carl Brandt will call at the Prince mansion hn ms, aah fo oi Yt Lh \ 4 aes -FLORETTE, on. i) pe a oa he Se al eS EB thes el ies Madison avenué, he will learn of something to his advantage.” Car] turned red and Ly by turns, after read- ing this, and, unhee ing Florette’s earnest, “Don’t go, brother Carl,” he said: “Little sister, if you will let me have some breakfast, I will go up and see what this means.” Half an hour after, dressed in one of his best suits, which Florette had carefully kept for him safely packed away, and with a five-dollar note which she had forced into his pocket, the pees convict wended his way to the pa- atial home of banker Prince. The banker had gone down to the office; Miss Prince was, however, at home, said the ser- vant, and Carl’s voice trembled as he asked to see her. ‘“ Your card, please, sir.” ‘‘T have no card; please tell her that Carl Brandt begs an interview.” He was ushered into the parlors, and soon af- ter came the rustling of silk, and in a stylish morning-robe Marion came into the room. «Miss Prince, a Personal in this morning’s Herald caused me—” He paused, for she had walked directly up to him and taken his hand, while she looked straight into his face and said: ““f am giad to see you, Mr. Brandt; but I have one question to ask you, and I shall expect a truthful answer—hear me; I say a truthful answer.” He looked down and remained silent, while he was very pale, and his hand trembled in hers, though his face was calm. ‘‘Are you, or are you uot, Carl Brandt, guilty of the crime of which you were accused, and for which you were sent to prison as a felon?” He looked her straight in the face now, and answered firmly : ‘*AsI was punished for the deed, and it is past now, I will tell you the truth: J was not guilty.” “Thank God! J believe you,” and with the impulsiveness of her nature she buried her head upon his broad breast and burst into tears. ‘‘One more question,” she said at last; ‘‘do you know who was guilty?” ‘*T do; but I will not betray that secret.” ‘*So be it; I know; now tell me why you sac- rificed yourself?” He was silent, and in an earnest way she went on: “You will tell me, Carl Brandt, when I sa to you that you suffered for my brother's crime.” He started visibly, yet said nothing, and she continued: “Yes, Burton Prince, not Carl Brandt, was the criminal; now tell me why you became a convict in-his stead ?” ‘*Because I loved you, Marion, more than I did myself.” The words were sare from his lips, and they told her that he still loved her, and her heart gave one great bound of joy. In a few words she then told him that to her he owed his pardon, and that her father also believed him innocent, and wished to see him at the office. An bour’s stay and Carl Brandt left, a happy man; but it was with commingled emo- tions that he entered the bank, and saw every eye of his former associates turn upon him, and yet not one with an unfriendly glance. Walking straight to the private office, he there confronted Harvey De Vigne and banker Prince. He hesitated upon the threshold, and the junior partner stepped forward and said: ‘‘ Welcome back, Brandt, and accept my sympathies for your past sufferings, and con- gratulations upon your pardon,” ‘IT thank you, sir,” and Carl turned to greet the banker, who said: ““T, too, welcome you back to the bank, Brandt; but have you seen Marion?” “*T just left her, sir.” *‘She asked you one question; how did you answer it?’ ‘*T told the truth; I said I was noé guilty.” “Tt is as I feared; did you say who was?” ‘*T did not, sir; nor will I.” ‘You need not; we know, and God forgive me the wrong I did you; but*you must come back to us, and entor upon your duties next week, for we have made you cashier.” ‘‘ What will the world say, sir? an ex-convict a bank cashier?” ‘*Out on the world! I run my own business, and next Monday you become cashier of this bank, for De Vigne and myself have talked it over. ’ Bi ORR ae, 4 , \ i * *. “ 4 J Pe) ee we CHILD OF THE STREET. . wholly forget the vagabond Professor.’ ’ — Mail “ = - ~ = 16: GS - ce Ale - x - = <~-% “y i ae ‘From my heart I thank you, gentlemen,” and Carl seemed deeply moved, a ‘“Now I will make you out a check for the ¥ time since you left us, for we are decided upon it, as we allowed you to wrong yourself, that your salary shall go on—now no words, for we , will do as we please,” and the old banker forced upon Carl the amount of hissalary forthetime = he had been in prison. 2 ee ‘‘T do not need this money, sir, for my little sister, Florette, has saved up over a hundred ~ dollars, which { can use.” “That little sister is as proud as Lucifer Brandt, for though an acknowledged child o the street, after your incarceration, she refused i. my ever offer of aid,” said Harvey De Vigne. 0 ‘She has had a most eventful time, Mr. De Vigne, but she has been, through all, true to ~ herself, and a pearl beyond price, though, as~ ~ you remarked, through unfortunate circum- stances, a child of the street.” After some further conversation, Carl Brandt ‘, took his leave, promising to dine with banker _ if Prince the following day; but though joy came ; to his heart, and to Florette’s, the news that he intended to move up-town once more, and the boarding-house was to be broken up, fell like a tins death-knell upon the boarders, as the following = ~~ comments will show: y athe Milky Jim: ‘Lordy, lis no good now. No a use to try to be good nigger ’ithout Miss Flo- rette to l’arn me.” Jicksey: ‘‘You folks may hang ’round ole Mrs. O’Gorman now, fer feed; but Lis goin’ter ~ live up-town myself, in a fashionable boardin’- r= house, as I’se makin’ money; but I does hate = this givin’ up ther Florette Ranch.” Mrs. O'Gorman: ‘‘ It’s mesilf will be afther ty bein’ missus now, Flowerrit, me darlint,an’ I hates it, fer I’ve enough ter occupy me wid washing clothes and sich; but the loikes o’ these will niver allow me to tarn ’em out; but, as I er s’id before, O’Gorman shell wash ther dishes.” he Mr. O'Gorman: * Yis, Pll have to wurruk ae hard indade, my lassie, whin you hev gone; but S good luck to yer, whereiver yer go, an’ I'll be afther drinkin cae hilth this vera night, ~ begorrah.” The Professor; **Y'm sorry that our paths’ © — divide here, Florette, for the beautiful world is : before you, the bitter past behind me, and the grave waiting for its prey; but ’monlya poor = devil, anyhow, and yet I would have you nob. ~~ s4 Zip: ‘Vf this ranch has bu’sted up, Vl ~~ : a news-stand near ther Fifth aveny, and then — Ill see yer now and then, Florette, even if yer : hain’t no longer a littie street gal,” and Zip turned away to hide a tear that ran across his < dirty face, tor that enterprising newsboy’s face ia was always soiled, he loving dirt rather than cleanliness, Nor were Zip’s tears the only ones that flow- ed, for Florette had a strong hold upon the heart-strings of all those drawn around her,and ._— she said, feelingly: a ss Bas only got me to cry for, whileI have you all. oe And Carl Brandt threw sunlight upon their ~ hearts, when he said: é, ‘‘ My friends, this is not a final parting, for if Florette does leave this humble home for a bet- _ ter one, you will find there a welcome, I assure’ you.” | foe” SS aiete “ est igi. Sime bel = 7 4 Tete pete Re CHAPTER XOSXVIL. “THE STRANGER.” ~ THE excitement caused by the charge of Ly murder against Burton Prince, was, if any- thing, ter when it bevame kn was held for robbery. : The romantic affair of his college days, with — Helen peop) her wondrous beauty, the scene on the cliff, the Italian’s story, the arrest and | the trial, with the remarkable pe ghey of Basil Trevor, who was believed dead, had woven 2 around the whole life of Burton Prince a i . < own that he ~ re thread of romance, to which the mystery of = this accusation lent renewed interest, ae) Having stated the circumstances of his kill- ee ing Edgar Monkton, to save Helen’s life, and =| she substantiating all that he said, and frankly if stating that she had begged him to keep the = secret, Basil Trevor had beex readily dismissed, ze it having been agreed upon by the authorities that it was a case of “justifiable homicide.” _ sa Returning to hisrooms (which Helen, towhom § Basil had left his mor a os to be distur Bee ar no idea o ever appearing again) the ae artist gave no caine of his loan i sate strange absence, merel oay ay that it would all come out at th Lin ngla nd, for thither = ee aM ame ahi L: Rea ee) . s P <57A — its aie ‘ar4‘:. re i eA ee Tp yr whis,. oe a Ve 2
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* yy pacl | @been made, a si . was “STORE rar ae eT gy eee Repent aa ee heey eee LV erreE vale Pe. woe he « bia Pane Ca a ‘ Ati TE, CHILD OF THE STREET. ve OY ee] \ i. ee a A ee Pe ‘d ' i a 2 ate i were Colonel Castleton and “Mrs. Earl to be taken, as the murder, claimed to have been committed by them, was not done in the United States. But, all the interest centered in the trial of Burton Prince, and the morning the case was opened, the court-room was filled to overflow- ing, and all eyes were turned upon the prisoner, who was looking pale and haggard. Banker Prince had employed the best legal talent of the land to defend his unfortunateson, against whom the real charges had not been made known, but that they were of a most serious nature was evident. At last curiosity was satisfied, and a hush fell upon all, when the stranger, who had caused the arrest of Burton Prince, now ac- cused him boldly, upon the night that the safe of the bank of Prince & Co. was opened, of taking the ten thousand dollars himself, and charging the crime upon Carl Brandt, or at léast allowing that person to be tried for the offense, | Being called to the witness-stand, this stran- ger, whose dark, earnest face won the respect of all present, told his story of how, on the night in question, he had entered a faro-bank and there met Burton Prince, who challenged him, though unknown to him, to a game of ca. rds, The two had played, the bets running high, and Burton Prince losing, until he bitterly curséd his luck, and said he had only bor- rowed that money that afternoon, in the hope with it to win back other heavy losses. ‘We played until daylight,” continued the stranger, ‘‘and I won from Mr, Prince ten thousand dollars, and here are the bills, which + will be remembered, at the trial of Carl Brandt, were said to be of a certain package that contained ten one-thousand-dollar notes, new from the Treasury, and the numbers of which a clerk had taken. “Why Carl Brandt would not produce the stolen money was largely commented upon at the time, and the reason he did not, was because he was not guilty, and I have here the very notes,” and he handed theya to the judge, and ‘the numbers being = ed with those that were stolen, were found to be identical. The stranger then went on to explain that for certain reasons he had tracked Burton Prince until he could lay his life bare to the public, and having at last caught him in the toils, he had determined to spring the trap, for, not Sopa with having Carl Brandt sacrifice him- self to'save him, through a sentimental idea, he had one day opened a, package, sent there to the bank, and which he, the stranger, had sent. In this communication, Car] Brandt was told that himself and sister were heirs to an im- _ mense fortune, given them by their mother’s ' brother, a wild-young man in early life, whom few had e d much good of. ‘Having opened and read the contents of this 6, Burton Prince had written to the law- yers, from whence it came, that Carl Brandt was a felon in prison, but his sister, Flo- rette Brandt, having bern left homeless, had been taken by him to care for, and consequent] _ allletters should be addressed to him, regard- "ing her inheritance. veral communicatic is, said the stranger, had thus passed between Burton Prince and the English lawyers, for the nttorney’s letters had -come from abroad, and the young banker had determined upon a bal) game, so at onceset out _ tofind this little cb’). of the street, who, un- known to herself, was the heiress of millions, Through rosie tee Y/¢vingstone the search had tbe stranger called upon that astute attorney 94 4 witness, who corroborated oa his statement thet Mr. Prince had sought his ag to got possession of her property. . dicksey was also summoned, and made known * ™ eerbain scraps of conversation which he had * gyerheard, and which were damaging to Burton Prince, and having thus laid bare the wicked- _- gess of the young banker’s city life, the stran- ger went onto make another damaging state- --* ment, to the effect that, when at college on the ' Housatonic, Burton Prince had, to accomplish his designs against Helen Boyd, written to some one of his wicked friends in New York, to send him up a pretended minister to perform a mar- ceremony. , e two, Helen Boyd and Burton Prince, had « met this man at Bridgeport and the ceremony rformed; but in this the young deceiver had been himself deceived, as his friend, not as ee _ vile as he was, had sent an ordained but poor young clergyman, so that the marriage was Og oi A ore ai emi ie Se Pe, a . lr en oe : ok § J ie Tee are : eae bp? Piri es 3 aber ate, NT i Nei Fae ariae are This was startling news, and Helen bent her head low and from her lips came a fervent: ** Thank God!” But, Burton Prince uttered no word; he sat like a statue and seemed ee, dazed. When asked the motive he had for thus play- ing detective upon Burton Prince, the stranger answered, distinctly: “Revenge!” ‘*In what has he wronged you?” asked Bur- ton’s lawyer. ‘Not so much as I had believed until I heard the statement of Mr. Basil Trevor at the other trial, for, like Pietro, the Italian, I believed that Burton Prince had returned and fired the shot that sent Edgar Monkton over the cliff.” ‘*But, in what has he wronged you?” again asked the lawyer. The answer came with fearful distinctness: Tam Edgar Monkton |” CHAPTER XXXVUL REVELATIONS. Worns are inadequate to express the scene that followed the announcement of the stran- ger that he was Hdgar Monkton. But when he covered his smoothly-shaven face with a long full beard, as he had worn in the long ago, the recognition was complete by Helen, and even Burton Prince dared not deny his identity, while Basil Trevor said: ** As near as I remember, that is the man I fired at.” The cruel scar upon the temple, where the bullet had cut its way, was then shown, and Ed- r Monkton went on to tell that his love for elen had driven him almost mad when he found she was already the wife of his rival, and, in his frenzy, he had seized her in his arms to spring with her over the cliff. But, miraculously, he had not been killed by the bullet or the terrible fall into the river, the cool water of which had revived him; and, re- stored to his right senses, he had crept away unseen and hidden himself in an old mine in which he had long worked. “ And in that mine I found my fortune; for therein I found, besides the gold I dug from the earth, an immense treasure-box hidden there a century before by the English, so said.a paper I discovered. ** And this fortune is the one upon which I entrapped Burton Prince, for, believing him to be my intended destroyer, I came here to seek revenge against him, ** And more: this fortune is what I intended to share with Carl and Florette Brandt, for their mother, Mary Moore, was. my own sister. my name being Edgar Monkton Moore—the wild boy of fifteen s ago, having harvested his wild oats, has hope of some joy in the future,” Asthough considering further triala mockery, Burton Prince confessed his guilt in everything, saying that, to recover his Idsses, he had pur- peeey left the safe unlocked, and given Carl randt the keys, after which he had abstracted the money, and lost it playing with the stranger before him, Sentence was then passed upon him, and he was led away to prison, while Edgar Monkton left the court-room, and, taking a carriage, drove to the home of Florette and Jarl, to whom he at once made himself known as their uncle, Both Carland his sister remembered havin often heard their mother speak of her wild an reckless brother Edgar, who she feared had come tosome bad end. They were rejoiced to find the rophecy unfulfilled, and welcomed him to their Leste and home with undisguised joy, and in- sisted upon his coming at once to live with them, The story of Edgar Moore, ‘‘ or The Stranger,” as he was called, was the topic of conversation for nine days, and spreading over the Housa- tonic valley, set the worthy citizens of that beautiful district to digging over the mountains and exploring oid ruins in search of precious ores, but with what result is not known, for if discoveries were made they were never reported, But hardly had the sensational nine days’ wonder been talked out, than another arose, for the wild heart of Burton Prince was not one that would brook prison life and dishonor, and yet throb on; and hehad stilled its beatings for- ever, by deliberately ending his own existence, for he was found dead in his cell one phere and upon his ‘heart was pinned a line to his old father and to Marion, telling them that he had taken poison to end his misery and their shame. And now I will ask my readers to accompany me across the ‘Atlantic on board of a fine’ steamer that bore as passengers, but under strict d, Colonel Brete Castleton and Vic- toire Earl, and poor Geraldine, the devo t 4 : n daughter, who would not leave her mother, guilty though she might be, As witnesses went Basil Trevor and the Red Witch, for it was said that she had much to say ct the past life of the man and woman whom the artist had accused of murder. But, ere the good steamer reached the shores of old England, a death occurred on board, for. broken-hearted at her shame, and the awful unishment in store for her, if found guilty, ictoire Earl never held her head up after leaving New York, and rapidly faded away, until she sunk into an everlasting sleep, re- fusing to the last to make any confession that might convict the man she loved, and who had been her companion in crime. Grim and cold, Brete Castleton looked upon the dead face and form, beautiful in death, and then turned away, a hopeless look in his eyes. Into the deep waters sunk the hammock-coy- ered body of Victoire Earl, and with its disap- earance all. joy in life seemed to fade from eraldine, and three days after found her the inmate of a convent, where, a noble and seli- sacrificing Sister of Charity she still lives, with no desire to come back into the beautiful world she went out of, just as she had crossed the threshold of beautiful womanhood. And Brete Castleton? With iron nerve he stood his trial, listening to every accusation with unflinching eyes, until none doubted that in the long ago, marrying a woman he had not loved, and seeing his elder brother take from him as his wife, the one he idolized, he had, with that brother’s wife, who was Victoire Earl, become Cain-accursed, a fratricide. And more; those two guilty ones had, as they believed, also killed the woman whom Brete Castleton had sworn to ‘‘love and cherish until death did them parr;” but, she had not died. under their cruel blows, but lived, brought back to life and health by an African mission- ary, who had found her, where they had left her, almost dead. Back to Evgland from Africa, where the deed had been committed, went that guilty pair to get possession of the dead brother’s wealth, and tell their tissue of falsehoods, of a wreck and loss of life; but the will of the dead man stared them in the face, for, should his wife survive him, and wish again to marry, she would lose in toto, and it would go to, their child Geraldine, who was also left a large es- tate, subject to her mother’s control until the daughter married. Hating his son, a boy then at school in Eng- land, Brete Castleton left his native land and sought a home in America, whither his guilt companion, under an assumed name, soon fol- lowed him, carrying with her her daughter, and the reader has seen how the man and woman Hens together, the tie of crime alone binding em. But upon their track was an avenger—the wo- man supposed to be dead; the wife of Brete Castleton, and far and wide she sought them, making ample means for her support by mind- reading disclosures while in a trance and by weird dealings in witchcraft, as the superstitious supposed; and with the ne and the dumb creatures she had brought with her from Africa, she continued her wandering life of search, until at last she met face to face those two who had so wronged her. Ay, and with them, though unknown to them and unknowing them, her son and Brete Castleton’s—Basil Tre- vor, who had left college, when deserted by his father, to become a wanderer in foreign lands, until Fate at last led him to the great metropo- lis where his worst enemy, his father, had made his home, Though, under an assumed name to manhood, he was unrecognized and grown Basil Trevor at once knew his father when they met; but with utter contempt for the man who had de- serted him, and a suspicion that some crime had taken from him his mother, he preferred not to make himself known. That he had not been unjust in his doubt of his wicked parent, he proved before the court, when he told how he had been struck a severe blow on the head, and hurled from the yacht into the ocean by the hand of his own father; but, not to die, for he had been only slightly stunned, and, being a good swimmer, had kept up for a long time, when a vessel passed near, end ponabng his hail had rescued him from eath. The ship was bound to the West India Islands and thus it was a long time before he returned to New York, where he arrived to learn of his supposed death, as told him by his mother, the very day before bis duel with Ellis Linwood for, upon obeying a summons from the Red Witch, he had gone there, and she had made - \ \ . Lim fe ’ \ ae \ , ce . ba Ef, y (\ B
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7 FLORETTE, CHILD OF THE STREET. . Re i tie > eel Bok ue tae ut ~< herself known to him, and the history of his father’s crimes. Such were the facts brought out by the trial . of Brete Castleton, and an English jury did not hesitate to pronounce him guilty of murder in the first degree, and, three months after, he suffered the full penalty for his crimes upon the gallows, unrepentant and cynical to the last. CHAPTER XXXIX. “ALU’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.” AFTER the penalty of death upon Brete Cas- tleton for his crimes, and the retreat of poor Geraldine to a convent’s walls, I will ask the - reader to return with me to America once more, and back to the Housatonic valley, where, in the’ old cottage home near Lover’s Leap, Helen Boyd lives in her girlhood home, giving up the brilliant life she could have lived in New York, for the quietude she had known in the olden time, and content, if not happy, in the love of her devoted mother. One afternoon, as was often her wont, she had gone to Lover’s Leap, the old trysting- place, and was standing there, idly dreaming, and looking far down into the waters below, when she started suddenly as she heard a step, and turning quickly, stood face to face with Edgar Moore. “Helen, do not fear me now, for I have had a bitter lesson in the past; but I have come here to see you, and your mother told me I would find you at this spot, so fraught with memories to both of us. “She has forgiven me, Helen, and I ask you to forgive and forget, to enter never again that haunted chamber of the past, and to be my wife,” He paused, and she made no reply. Aftera moment he went on, for he saw that she was deeply moved: “*In the olden time, Helen, I was a poor teacher, when I offered you my love; now I am a rich man, and again I offer it.” “Speak not to me, Edgar, of riches; I know their value, for I used what wealth I found in New York, to cater to my pleasures, and my revenge; I loved you in that olden time, when se were poor, and I love you now; ay, never ave I loved other than ou, for never, until I returmed here, after all that has happened, did I know my own heart.” “Then you will be my wife, Helen?” “Yes, Edgar.” And one month from that day there was a uiet wedding in that little cottage home, and the guests were from the city, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Carl Brandt, née Marion Prince, Mr, and Mrs. Basil Trevor, née Berta Ivey, and last but not least in importance, Florette Brandt, who officiates as bridesmaid, with Harvey De Vigne for ‘‘ best man,” and who, if rumor says rightly, is soon to lead to the altar the beauti- ful girl who leans upon his arm. But, let me not say exeunt omnes from this life-history of more truth than fiction without speaking of some of the other characters—the links that make up the chain which I have welded together. Lawyer Livingstone has retired from the practice of law, fearing to be yet caught in some of his sly games, and lives upon the inter- est of his ill-earned wealth, while Ellis Linwood has reformed, and, under the influence of his noble wife, lives an upright life, Old banker Prince dwells still in his elegant home, with bis son-in-law and his daughter, ee relinquished his share in the bank to Car] Brandt, whom all delight to honor, even though he once bore the name of Carl, the con- Vict. ’ In a beautiful home upon the Hudson dwell Basil Trevor, his beautiful wife, who so nar- rowly escaped becoming Mrs. Burton Prince, and his mother, who still keeps near her the two Africans, though her loathsome pets she has discarded, for she no longer cares to be re- membered as Zaidah, the Red Witch. Living upon the south shore of Long Island, whose hills and vales he delights in roaming over, as she did the old Connecticut hills, is Edgar Moore, and over his pleasant home pre- sides his wife, growing more beautiful than ever now that children cling around her knees an call her mother. The poor Professor died a drunkard, I regret to say, and was buried in Potter’s Field, and_ of the fate of Mr. and Mrs. O'Gorman I am ig- Norant; but Milky Jim, now answering ts the name of James, is coachman for Carl Brandt, and Tip, recognized now, as ‘‘ Mr. Terrill,” owns a, ‘stationery establishment on Nassau street, and bids fair to be NW a rich man, while Jicksey | 43 H, M.S. PINAFORE, COMPLETE, and 17 ot ceipt 0 gave up the study of the law, and draws a good salary as private detective of the bank of Prince & Co. 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Sold everywhere by Newsdealers, at five cents per copy, or sent post-paid, to any address, on re- Sim cents per number. AND ADAMS, PusuisHers, 93 Witui4M Street, New Yorm, BEADLE BEADLE AND ADAMS’ STANDARD DIME PUBLICATIONS. Speakers. Each volume contains 100 large pets, Pea from clear, open type, comprising the. collec- tion of Dialogues, Dramas and Recitations, The Dime Speakers for the season of 1858 embrace twenty-four volumes, viz.: 1, American Speaker. | 18, School Speaker, 2. National Speaker. 14. Iudicrous Speaker, 8, Patriotic Speaker. 15. Komikal Speaker. 4, Comic Speaiker. . Youth’s Speaker. 5. Elocutionist. 17. Eloquent Speaker. 6. Humorous Speaker, 18, Hail Columbia Speake 7. Standard Speaker, er. ‘ 8. Stump Speaker. 19.. Serio-Comic Speaker. 9, Juvenile Speaker. 20. Select Speaker. 10, Spread-Eagle Speaker | 21. Funny Speaker, 11. Dime Debater. 22. Jolly Speaker, 12. Exhibition Speaker. | 23. Dialect Speaker. 24. 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For Schools, Parlors, Entertainments and the Am= ateur Stage, comprising Original Minor Dramas, Comedy. Farce, Dress Pieces, Humorous Dialogue and Burlesque, by noted writers; and Recitations — and Readings, new :nd standard, of the celebrity and interest. Edited by Prof, A. M. I, DIME HAND-BOOKS, Young Ponclers Series, BreADLE’s Divs Hanp-Booxs ror YounG PEOPLE ~ Nd especially cover a wide range of subjects, and are adapted to thei end, i f Ladies’ Letter-Writer, Book of Games, Gents’ Letter-Writer. ¥Fortune-Teller, Book of Etiquette. Lovers’ Casket. Book of Verses. Ballroom Companion, —__ Book of Dreams, Book of Beauty, Ls Hand-Books of Games. “Handbook ef Summer Sports. ys Book of Croquet. Yachting and Rowing, O7 Chess Instructor. Riding and Driving. ese Cricket and Football. Book of Pedestrianism. i, Guide to Nectar ...) Handbook of ‘Winter Sports—Skating, ete vi Manuals for Housewives. a 1, Cook Book. 4. Family Physician... ie 2. Recipe Book. 5. Dressm and bs 8. Housekeeper’s Guide. linery, a Lives of Great Americans Pie I.—George Washington, | _VII.—David Crockett, i--John Pani J one age ae {IL Mad AnthonyWayne |. X—Teouasene aN .—Mad Anthon: ayne .—Te a IV.—Ethan ‘Allan’ A V.—Marquis de Lafay-| X1I.—Pontiae, i ette. XIU.—Ulysses 8. Grant. - Vi.—Daniel, Boone, 4, Song Books, soe BEADLE’S Dime Sone Booxs, Nos. 1 to 88, con’ 4 the only popular collection cf copyright songs. oe ioe Melodist, School Melodist, Joke Books. F Pocket Joke Book, Paddy Whack Joke Book. The above publications for sale by all ne uae or will be “sent, 3 pe gs 3 ! Music and Words, XI.—Abraham Lincoln, | py heey ae Jim Crow Joke Book, * * ec * Me on receipt of price, by nian Sr, x mig 8s ipne ime’ Pi ae h 4
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oy on BPO HT 418 22 _ 24 The Sword Prince: a 38 be 39 Night-Hawk George, and His Daring Deeds ard Adventures , Al 4 hood. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. The Ocean Hunters; or, The Chase of the Leviathan. Captain Mayne Reid. An extra large number. 1 (2 By 3 Adventures of Wild Bill, the Pistol Prince. Remarkable | eareer of J. B. Hikok. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, The Prairie Ranch; or, The Young Cattle Herders. E. Badger, Jr. Texas Jack, the Mustang King. Thrilling Adventures in the Life of J. B. Omohundro, “‘ Texas Jack.” By Col. P. Ingraham. Cruise of the Flyaway; or, Yankee Boys in Ceylon. By C. Dunning Clark. Roving Joe: The History of a Young “ Border Ruffian.” Brief Scenes from the Life of Joseph E. Badger, Jr. By A. H. Post. The Flyaway Afloat; or, Yankee Boys ’Round the World. By C. Dunning Clark. Bruin Adams, Old Grizzly Adams’ Boy Pard. Col. Prentiss Ingraham. a By 10 The Snow Trail; or, The Boy Hunters of Fur-Land. A Narra- | tive of Sport and Life around Lake Winnipeg. By,T. C. Harbaugh. Old Grizzly Adams, the Bear Tamer; or, The Monarch of the Mountain. By Dr. Frank Powell. 11 12 Woods and Waters; or, The Exploits of the Littleton Gun | Club. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 13 A Rolling Stone: Incidents in the Career on Sea and Land as ( Boy and Man, of Col. Prentiss Ingraham. By Prof.Wm. R Eyster. 14 Adrift on the Prairie, and Amateur Hunters on the Buffalo Range. By Ol! Coomes. 15 Kit Carson, King of Guides; or, Mountain Paths and Prairie Trails. e By Albers W. Aiken. 16 By C. Dunning Clark. 17 Plaza and Plain; or, Wild Adventures of “ Buckskin Sam,’’ (Major Sam 8. Hall.) By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Rifle and Revolver; or, The Littleton Gun Club on the Buffalo Range. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 19 Wide-Awake George, the Boy Pioneer. By Ed. Willett. 20 The Dashing Dragoon; or, The Story of General George A. Custer, from West Point to the Big Horn. By Capt. F. Whittaker. 21 Deadwood Dick as a Boy; or, Why Wild Ned Harris, the New England Farm-lad, became the Western Prince of the Road. By Edward LL. Wheeler. The Boy Exi'es of Siberia. By T. C. Harbaugh. 23 Paul De Lacy, the French Beast Charmer; or, New York Boysin the Jungles, By C. Dunning Clark. The Romantic Life of Colonel Monstery, (American Champion-at-arms.) By Captain Fred. Whittaker. _ 25 Round the Camp Fire ; or, Snow-Bound at “Freeze-out Camp.” A Tale of Roving Joe and his Hunter Pards. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 26 Snow-Shoe Tom; or, New York Boys in the Wilderness. A Narrative of Sport and Peril in Maine. By I, C. Harbaugh. ~ 27 Yellow Hair, the Boy Chief of the Pawnees. The Ad- venturous Career of Eddie Burgess of Nebraska. By Col. Ingraham. 28 The Chase of the Great White Stag and Camp ard shed 829 Canoe. By C. Dunning Clark. The Fortune-Hunter; or, Roving Joe as Miner, Cow-Boy, Trapper and Hunter. By A. H. Post. Walt Ferguson’s Cruise. A Tale of the Antarctic Sea, 30 . C. Dunning Clark. By 31 The Boy Crusader; or, How a Page and a Fool Saved a King. 82 Ba ts ; ’ Eatin," j a 3 Batt) By Captain Frederick Whittaker, White Beaver, the Indian Medicine Chief: or, The Ro- mantic and Adventurous Life of Dr. D, Frank Powell, known on the Border as “ Fancy Frank,” ‘‘ Iron Face,” ete. By Col. P. Ingraham. Captain Ralph, the Young Explorer; or, The Centipede Among the Floes. By C. Dunning Clark. The Young Bear Hunters, A Story of the Haps and Mishaps of a Party of Boys in the Wilds of Michigan, By Morris Redwing. 34 é 85 The Lost Boy Whalers; or, In the Shadow of the North Pole. By T. C, Harbaugh. Smart Sim, the Lad with a Level Head, By Ed. Willett, 37 Old Tar Knuckle and His Boy Chums; or, The Monsters 7 of the Esquimaux Border. By Ruger Starbuck, The Settler’s Son; or, Adventures in Wilderness and Clear- ing. By Edward §. Ellis. 36 in the Wilds of the South and West. The Ice Elephant; or, The Castaways of the Lone Coast. Captain Frederick Whittaker. The Pampas Hunters; or, New York Boys in Buenos Ayres, \ By T. C, Harbaugh. ; 42 The Y Land-Lubber. By C. Dunning Clark. A3 Bronco Billy, the Saddle Prince. By Col P, Ingrabam, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.” By Lae { aid i pai ef By Jos. | Red River Rovers; or, Life and Adventures in the Northwest. | d | i Adventures of Buffalo Bill. From Boyhood to Man | 44 The Snow Hunters; or, Winter in the Woods. By Barry De Forrest. 45 Jack, Harry and Tom, the Three Champion Brothers; or, Adventures of Three Brave Boys with the Tattooed Pirate. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 46 The Condor Killers; or, Wild Adventures at the Equator. By T. C. Harbaugh. 47 The Boy Coral Fishers; or, The Sea Cavern Scourge, Roger Starbuck. 48 Dick, the Stowaway; or, A Yaukee Boy’s Strange Cruise. By Charles Morris. 49 Tip Tressell, the Floater; or, Fortunes and Misfortunes on the Mississippi. By Edward Willett. 50 The Adventurous Life of Nebraska Charlie, (Chas. E. Burgess.) By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. 51 The Colorado Boys; or, Life on an Indigo Plantation. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 52 Honest Harry; or, The Country Boy Adrift in the City. By Charles Morris. 53 The Boy Detectives; or, The Young Californians in Shanghai. ~ By T. C. Harbaugh. ~ 54 California Joe, the Mysterious Plainsman. 55 Harry Somers, the Sailor-Boy Magician. 56 Nobody’s Boys; or, Life Among the Gipsies. man, 5% Th Menacerie Hunter; or, Fanny Hobart, the Animal Queen. By Major H, Grenville, ‘‘Sea Gull.” 58 Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. By Charles Morris. 59 Lud Lionheels, the Young Tiger Fighter. By Roger Starbuck. 60 The Young Trail Hunters; or, New York Boys in Grizzly Land. By T. C. Harbaugh. 61 The Young Mustangers. By C. Dunning Clark. 62 The Tiger Hunters; or, The Colorado Boys in Tiger-Laud. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 63 The Adventurous Life of Captain Jack, the Border Boy. (John W. Crawford, the Poet Scout.) By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 64 The Yourg Moose-Hunters; or, Trail and Camp-fire in the New Brunswick Woods. By Wm. H. Manning. 65 Black Horse Bill, the Bandit Wrecker; or, Two Brave Boys to the Rescue. By Roger Starbuck. By By Col. Ingraham. By 8. W. Pearce. By J. M. Hoff 66 Little Dan Rocks; or, The Mountain Kid’s Mission. By Morris Redwing. 67 ’Loneshore Lije; or, How a Rough Boy Won His Way. By C. Dunning Clark. 68 Flatboat Fred; or, The Voyage of the “Experiment.” By Edward Willett. 69 The Deer-Hunters; or, Life in the Ottawa Country. By John J. Marshall. %0 Kentucky Ben, the Long Rifle of the Plains; or, The Boy Treppers of Oregon. By Roger Starbuck. "1 The Boy Pilot; or, The Island Wreckers, By Col. Ingraham, 72 Young Dick Talbot. By Albert W. Aiken. 73 Pat Mulloney’s Adventures; or, Silver Tongue, the Dacotah Queen. By C. L. Edwards. 74 The Desert Rover; or, By Charles Morris. | 5 The Border Gunmaker; or, The Hunted Maiden. By James L. Bowen. 76 The Kit Carson Club; or, Young Hawkeyes in the North- west. By T. C. Harbaugh. i, 79 Left-Handed Pete, the Double-Knife. By Jos BE. Badger, Jr. | %8 The Boy Prospector ; or, The Scout of the Gold Ravine. By Roger Starbuck. 79 Minonee, the Wood Witch; or, The Squatter’s Secret. By Edwin Emerson. 80 The Boy Cruisers; or, Jce and Jap’s Big Find. Ey Edward Villett. 81 pohelage ay Rovers; or, Lost on Overland Trail. By J. Milton Hoffman. 82 The Wolf Queen; or, The Giant Hermit of the Scioto. Captain Charles Howard. 83 The Young Nihilist; or, A Yankee Boy Amcng the Russians. By Charles Morris. 84 Little Rifle; or, The Young Fur Hunters. Adams, Stowaway Dick Among the Arabs, By By Capt. ‘‘ Bruin” A New Issue Every Week. BEADLE’s Boy’s Liprary is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, PusiisHers, ¢8 William Street, New York, Ul
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Nes, 2 to 38 imelusive. 15 to 25 Popular Dialogues and Dramas in each book. Each volume 100 18me pages, svi i gi FOR scHooY pA PIBITION S gs p> | HOME EN?» 9 post-paid, om receipt of price, TEN CENTS. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William St. N. Y. fFhese volumes have been prepared with especial reference to their availability for Exhibitions, being adapted to schools and parlors with a without the furniture of a stage, and suited to SCHOLARS AND YOUNG PEOPLE of every age, both male and female. It is fair to assume that no other books in the market, at any price, contain so many useful and available dialogues and dramas of wit, pathos, humor and sentiment, Dime Dialogues, No. 1. Meeting of the Muses. For nine young ladies, Baiting a Live Englishman. For three boys. Tasgo’s Coronation. For male and female, Fashion. Kor two ladies. Therehearsal. For six boys. ree will you Choose? For two boys. Th Sig of May. For two little girls. The Tea-Party. For four ladies, Three Scenes in Wedded Life. For male and female. Mrs. Sniffles’s Confession. For male and female. The Mission of the Spirits. For five young ladies, mobbing. For five speakers. Secret of Success. For three speakers. ‘Young America. For threé-males and two females. a ine’s Destiny. For four females, one male. The Folly of the Duel. For three male speakers, Dogmatism, For three male speakers. The a Confounded. For two boys. The Fast Young Man. For two males. The Year’s Reckoning, Twelve females, one male. The Village with One Gentleman. Foreight fennalcn and one male. Dime Dialogues, No. 2. The Genius of Liberty. Two males and one female. Cinderella’ or, the Little Glass Slipper. Doing Goed and Saying Bad. For several characters. BEADLE ASD ADAMS, 98 WILLIAM STREET, N, Y. | General Dime Book Publishers. The Golden Rule, For two males and two females, The Gift of the Fairy Queen. For several femaies, Taken in and Done for. For two characters. Country Aunt’s Visit to thé City. Several characters, The Two Romans. For two males. : Trying the Characters. For three males, The Happy Family. For several “ animals,” The Rainbow. For several characters, How to write “Popular ’. Stories. For twe males, The New and the Old. For two males, A Sensation at Last. For two maleg, The Greenhorn, For two males. The Three Men of Science. For four males, The Old Lady’s Will. For four males. The Little Philosophers. For two little girls, How to Find an Heir. For five males, The Virtues. For six young ladies. A Connubial Eclogue. P. The Public Méeting: For five males and one female, The English Traveler. For two males, ;, Dime Dialogues, No. 3. The May Queen. For an entire school. Dress Reform Convention. For ten females, ~ - Keeping Bad Company. A Farce. Yor five males, Courting Under Difficulties. Two males, one female, ~ ‘ National Representatives. A Burlesque. Fourmales, Escai me Bey Draft. For numerous males, The Cook. For two males. Masterpiece. For two males and two females, . The Two Romans. For two males, The Same. Second Scene. For two males, Sho the White Feather. Fou¥ males, one femahs,. The Battle Call. A Recitative. For one male, . The Frost King. For.ten or more versens. é' Starting in Life. For three males und two females. | Faith, ore and Charity. For three little girls, Darby and Joan, For two males and one female. The May. A Floral Fancy, For six sittle girls. The Enchanted Princess. 2 males, several females, 4 Honor to Whom Honor is Due? 7 males and 1 female ~ The Gentle Client. Several males andone,female. — Phrenology. A Discussion. For twenty males. : The Stubbletown Volunteer. 2males and 1 female, A Scene from “ Paul Pry.” For four males. The Charms. .For thrée males and one female. Bee, Clock and‘Broom_ For three little girls. The Right yeh A: Colloquy. ‘For two boys. . , What the Ledger Says. For two males. The Reward of Benevolence. For four males, / The Letter, For two males. Dime Dialogues, No. 5. The Three Guesses. For school or parlor. Sentiment. A “Three Persons’ ” Farce, Bee ee rer due toys ant. a teste e ety. For five and a * Examination. Day. Forseveral female charatters. For several males, sted bo i The Schoolboys’ ural, For ten bays. A / The Crimes of Dress. A Golloguy. For two boy —\ . ‘
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FG oe ee Oe ee! @ A ') @ ip & bat Fe ae 5 RS a.) a es) \ pee St aoe i Why rte he eed NE cea epi Set a 6 RUDE aN a EPE SNUBS Lh eM ir: ° i pare ; = fe ‘ ¢ , 4 THE DIME SPEAKERS.—Continued. Sa J ce ne peng tne TRIS EEE TET EI CE a COT EEE OE Se eR EES OIE NESSIE © NTT SS MENTS SO SUE ed EE IS IAS UE OTLB PETE AE EW e oe ee oe ‘Dime Hum eak , The Neck, The Blarney Stone, The Cold-water Man, John Thompson’s Daw’ Ms crue Bparens Me. Foggy Thoughts, The Student of Bonn. Permanency of States, | House Cle is pe -° &B8ad nerf Poetry Run Mad, The Ladies’ The Broken ousehold, Liberty of Speech, It Is Not Your ess, A String of Onions, Right Names Life The Bible. y S ? ?, 7 : 2 Bh 7 AL Tragie Story, Scientific Lectures, The Idler, The Purse and the Sword Dime Juvenile Speaker, No. 9, 5 « Cats, The Ager, The Unbeliever, My pea f A Boy’s Phil h H ate Courtship, The Cockney, The Two Lives, True Moral Courage, it t Yo OSOphy, Bin the Rayen Became Debt. The Codfish, The True Scholar, What is War? ivonOite Pontect a Rec? Jgpe a Devils Fate of Sergeant Thin, Judges not Infallible, Butter, The ‘Suici Gal 6 : est, am other’s Work, Dow, Jr.’s Lectures, The Features’ Quarrel, Fanaticism, My Deborah Lee, % v \edictic Bibs wh Same, zo and Echo Hamerican Voodehuck, _ | Instability of Successful | The Race, 2 ale ore ea Rules, §ashionable Women, The Harp ef a Thousand | Agriculture, [Crime, | The Pin and Needle, The dito tet 3 y eep Story, ern Thistles, Strings, Ireland, The Modern Puritan haemo lat Tt r ittle Correspondent, d-Nature, The Last of the Sarpints, | The People Always Con- | Immortality of the Soul, The Fairy’ Sh TRY: vee! Gea Goud Turn Deserves ottlieb Klebcyergoss The March to Moscow, Music of Labor, — [quer, | Occupation, Wie i Wak pera er, y Dream, —_ [Another, Schlackenlichter’s snake, | The Mysterious Guest, Prussia and Austria, Heroism and Daring, Pp sap O as Learned, ime =} Hosea Biglow’s inions, | ‘The Funip, Wishing, A Shot at the Decanter. | py CF072, rt let Use Tobacco, (8 pl Re RR el a ‘ The Snaixe in the Grass, | ‘The Old Bachelor, # July Oration he Shoemak er, Dime Stump Speaker, No. 8. Tale of the Tropics, Prayer to Light, | ff you Mean No, Say No, | The Useful Doctor, Hon. J. M, Stubbs’ Views | New England and Union, one s pi ace ; ee e Jim, '/ Jo Bows on Leap Year, | The Waterfall, on the Situation, The Unseen Battlefield, The Teher's Chil ie ract 5 iene hs Lament, Lay of the Henpecked, | To the Bachelors’ Union | Hans Schwackheimer on | Plea for the Republic, Sh or sner's $ h 1 Me one Shrimps on Boots Lot Skinner’s Elegy, League, 3 Woman’s Suffrage, America, [Fallacy, AM. idon’s Ps: in Of Lif Chong fH Matrimony, United States Presidents, | All for a Nomination ‘Right of Secession” a 7% Mi. en sisaim 0. OI Pp Rich: are '. Nothing to Do. Vagaries of Popping the | Old Ocean, Sea, | Life’s Sunset, Ple eter ies Who Kill aT 8 Sayings, Old Caudle’s Umbrella, Question, The Sea,the Sea, the open | Human Nature, Plavi an B all es, N thi 7 os D om Reper, aS Old,Grimes’s Son, What I Wouldn’t Be, Star Bangled Spanner, | Lawyers, é Ah Wh? Honest B Pon ties Paddle Your Own Canoe, | Yankee Doodle Aladcin, | Stay Where You Belong, Wrongs of the Indians, Live f. athi Heavor est Policy, a Parody on “ Araby’s Ze Moskeetare, Life’s What You Make It, act in behalf of Am. I nes eh Pek ed Ho for the Field é Daughter,” 1933, Where’s My Money, series of War,[Liberty, Th Oué ee ecked, r en ee the Bint ° § ech from Conscience, A Lay Sermon, Wolf and tok, On Shan -hais, ties ; Dime Standard Speaker, No. 7. The Piette pissed ee honti Lion in Love, ” ASmile,” 7 Se oo] ’ S sic i i » _' The World We Live In, | John Burns, Gettysburg, | Good-nature a Bicanine, The Moon, __ [zens, an eee Asking for a King, Cenc uanis _- Woman’s Claims, No Sect in Heaven, Sermon from Hard-shell | Duties of American Citi- Go, tes av Mi gama yathic Soup, A’ Authors of our Liberty, | Miss Prude’s Tea-Party, | Tail-enders, [Baptist, | The Man Mt vide a Ww, own Mice, Malt and Byes, The Real SpnaeTor, The Power of an Idea, The Value of Money, Temptations of Cities, esa bepe oman, A a a ¥. [Come, ’ The Citizen’s Heritage, The Beneficence of the | Meteoric Disquisition, Broken Resolutions, Th LD bai ieee be Th Ma red a Ad ae | Suffrage, (Sea, | Be Sure You are Right, | There is no Death, Little Thig NUer, . Littl pb po an ne ERO Mechanic, Dream of the Revelers, Be of Good Cheer Races, > ‘A Baby? Soil FS ie On eer {Razor, Ln ature and Nature’s God | HowCyrus Laid the Cable | Crabbed Folks, (Shrew, A Fruitful Discourse, Re bad . 8 HoMOgUy, Th Ton MG aed ‘, The Modern Good, [Sun,.| The Prettiest Hand, Taming a Masculine | A Frenchman’s Dinner, me foe for Ri The he i es, ig Na *s Address to the | Paradoxieal, Farmers, [Our Country, | Unjust National Acqui’n, Hi ban Patitoti D “The Littl orm it Well independence Bell—1777, | Little Jerry, the Miller, The True Greatness of | The Amateur Coachman, Nigh ‘ iy Nee Christmas Little e—Do Short Legs, Shrimps on Amusements, Ben Buster’s Oration, Hans Von Spiegel’s 4th, Josh Billings’s Advice, A Hard-shell Sermon, The Boots, The Squeezer, Noah and the Devil, A Lover’s Luck. Hifalutin Adolphus, Digestion and Paradise, Distinction’s Disadvant- Smith, [ages, Gushalina Bendibus, A Stock of Notions Speaking for the Sheriff, Daking a Shweat, Then and Now. Josh Billings’s Lecturing, Doctor De Blister’s Ann’t, Consi ents, Hard Lives. Dan Bryant's Speech, A Colored View, Original Maud Muller, Nobody, _. Train of Circumstances, Good Advice The Itching Palm, = St 1.—DxBATING Society. Its Office and Usefulness, Formation of, Constitution of, By-Laws of, Rules of Government, Local Rules of Order, Local Rules of Debate, Subjects of Discussion. 11.—How To DEBATE. Why there are few good Debaters, Prerequisites to Oratori- cal Success The Logic of Debate, The Rhetoric of Debate, Maxims to Observe, The Prelirninary Premise, Order of Argument, Summary. 111.—CHAIRMAN’s GUIDE. Ordinary Meetings and Assemblies, The Organization, Order of Business and Proceedings, The “ Question.” How it can be Treated. \ JUST PUBLISHED, CONTAINING 17 NEW DIALOGUES. be Considered, Rights to the Floor, Rights of a Speaker as gainst the Chair, Calling Yeas and Nays, Interrupting a Vote, Organization of Delibera- tive’ Bodies, C6nven- tions, Annual or Gen- eral Assenablies BEADLE AND ADAMS, 98 WILLIAM STREET, N, Y. > eae General Dime Book Publishers, 18s, Base-Ball, [Fever. Prescription for Spring Dime Spread-Eagle Speaker, No. 10. Drum-bead Sermons, Schnitzerl’s Philosopede *Woman’s Rights,’ Luke Lather, The Hog, Now Poeiand Traged ew Englan The Ancient Bachelon’ Jacob Whittle’s Speec Jerks Prognosticates, A Word with Snooks, Sut Lovengood, | A Mule Ride, Josh Billings on Buzzers, | Il Trovatore, Kissing in the Street, | Scandalous, Slightly Mixed, | The Office-seeker, Old Bachelors, Woman, The Niam Niams, People Will Talk, Swackhamer’s Ball, | Who Woukin’t be Firen, Don’t Depend on Dadda, | Music of Labor, | The American Ensign. Debater and Chairman’s Guide No. 11. Preliminary Organization Permanent O ization, The Order of Business Considering Reports, Pa- Pas etc., oO Subsidiary Motions, The Due Order of Con- cedure. How to Report, The se omg 2 died of the ole, Miscellaneous, ‘Freatment of Petitio The Decorum of Debate, Hints to a Chairman, Iv.— DEBATES, Debate-in full: Which is the Greatest Benefit to his Country —the Warrior, States- man, or Poet? The “ Question.” ” How tor SMa in Brief: Is the Reading of Works. of Fiction to be Pay em ose Hie . Are Lawyers a Bene fit or a yGarse to So ciety? V.—QUOTATIONS AND PHRASES, Latin. ‘