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“DECEMBER 24, 1892.
THE NEW YORK LEDGER.
5
ing to amuse herself with a newspaper,
which she at last threw down with a yawn,
sa)
Xe Mow dull everything is, ‘Lyddy, dear.
Not even. a Ww pla read about.
Heigh-ho! _ How would you like a trip to
Europe, child ?”
Lydia’s eyes sparkled, as she picked. up
the paper.
“Like it, you dear mamma? . Why, of
course 1 should like it; but, then, one
couldn’t think of travelling across the ocean
in this terrible month, when all the storms
are raging! Let me hunt for something in
the paper. You’ve got such a way of
skimming over things and I can always find
something interesting to read aloud to you.
Let me try.
“©Oh, try, by all means |” Mrs. Ralston
said, with. another yawn. had
your sharp eyes, Lydia! Bat, then, -one
grows old, ¢
* You Ws never grow old, ” the girl re-
_ plied, affettionately, as she turned over the
id. Why,
paper and prepared to rea “
heard Lord Townley, that Englishman that
all the girls rave about, say, only the other
night, that he- preferred sich married
women as Mrs. Ralston to all the young
ladies he had seen in New e act-
ually said that a woman was not fit to be
talked ‘to; till after thirty. Of course, it
was not very nice for me to hear, mamma,
but then those English lords seem to think
they can say anything to American girls;
and, thank Heaven, I’m not in love with
any titles!”
Mrs. Ralston lay back in her chair idly
listening to the girl’s chatter, but made no
answer ;: and Lydia, after a little rustling
of ine paper bega
mamma, here? 's something inter-
esting
She Skimmed over the article, as if try-
ing to get the sense of it, Mrs. Ralston still
watching her in a way she often had of
looking at Lydia, till at last the girl burst
out excitedly ¢
**Oh, mamma, the poor creatures ! Oh,
just think of it! You remember that storm
we had the day before yesterday? . Well,
on that very night, when you remember
how the wind whistled, even here, two poor
fellows got out of prison and managed to
cross the river on the ice to the other side!
And, think of it, mamma! One of them
was found only yesterday night, dead, with
his hands and feet frozen off, si that
had bled to death. And the other one is
supposed to have been buried. Oh, dear,
oh, dear, what terrible things they do put
into the papers! To think that they should
have made their escape only to die in such
a miserable manner! Poorthings! Poor
things |”
Lydia had always been noted, from a
child, for being exceedingly tender- hearted;
the tears came into her eyes, so
that she had to dash them away in order
to goon reading. Her young voice hada
sob in it as she went
‘oor, poor creatures! Oh, I can’t read
the description of the way they found the
body, mamma. It is foo horrible!’ Thank
Heaven, they are out of their misery at
last !”.
And the tender- hearted girl laid down the
paper and openly cried a little, in her ten-
der, girlish way, at sufferings that she, in
her innocence, could not in the least
realize.
In the meantime, Mrs. Ralston had
turned in her chair somewhat uneasily, and
yet as if afraid to exhibit uneasiness, as she
presently asked, with an assumption of
carelessness that was contradicted by her
slightly tremulous voice:
“Did the paper give the names of the
convicts, child?”
don’t know, mamma,” Lydia replied,
wiping away her tears. ‘*1’! k for it.”
ver, she looked to the oP bttom of
the article and read out
“The numbers of the convicts were 1187 and
963, The latter was the one whose bands and
feet were frozen off, Iis name was Brown, alias
iggs, alias Trott, alias Ellis, an old offender.
His last sentence was for ten years for burglary.
His companton’s name, on the rolls of the prison,
stands John Lee, twenty years for burglary, Ratn-
ton, N. Y.
Lydia read on, without noticing that
Mrs. Ralston had gradually moved in her
chair and was now sitting up, staring at
her, in a manner indicating suppressed
excitement, as she said sharply :
ive me that paper. How can I have
missed a thing like that?”
e girl, surprised at the sharp tone,
which her adoptive mother very seldom
used to her, instantly came and gave her
the paper, looking a little frightened.
ts. Ralston glanced up at her and,
reading he thoughts, patted her hand with
a trembling finger, saying soothingly:
“T'm not angry, child, only I think—”
And then she stopped short and bit her
lip, adding awkwardly : ‘That is—never
mind. Young girls ought not to be sub-
jected to the risk of having to read such
things, my dear, I shall have to keep the
papers away from you or change the jour-
nal. This criminal news is very interesting
for men, I suppose; but ladies don’t care
for it.”
. Lydia was about to reply, when they
eard a rapid, -heavy.step outside, and
both women looked at:each other appre-
hensively. They knew who was coming,
without asking.
e door -was flung open, and into the
room “hurried Raymond Ralston, his hair
lying Plastered down on his forehead as if
just taken off his hat after being
overheated, his face set in an anxious frown,
which he ‘checked immediately he saw
Lydia, and said, in a weary sort of way:
- I. beg your pardon, Carmen; but I
wanted to see you about something partic-
ular. : I—what is that you’re reading?”
« His wife met his eyes steadily as she re-
plied coldly .
‘* Our own affairs, Mr. Ralston. Is that
the business you wanted to see me about?”
it change had come over Raymond
Ralston in seventeen years. When he made
the compact with Carmen, which she had
compelled him to keep. ever since, he had
been a very handsome young man, with
luxuriant black whiskers and mustache,
melting dark eyes, aquiline features and an
ideally. romantic face.
Now the hair was there, black as ever,
but it had’a certain gloss about it that told
of the aid of art; and all the art in the
world could not hide the ravages of dissipa-
tion on his features. - The jaw had spread
into a jowl; wrinkles had settled into the
cheeks on either side around the eyes and
corners of the mouth; the eyes themselves
had a dim, glassy look about them, and
Raymond Ralston, who, at twenty-eight,
had been an Adonis, at forty-five looked
near sixty and had the aspect of a veteran
voué fast verging on the break-down. ~ His
very attire, obtrusively dandified, increased
the artificiality of his appearance, and there
was an ill-concealed aversion. in Lydia’s
manner as she greeted him with a formal:
“*Good morning, papa.’
She had been taught to call him that
since she was a child; but it was a strange
thing. about her, which even the nurses
had remarked, that she had always ex-
hibited an unconquerable repugnance to
being left alone with him or to kissing him
on any pretext. +
He, on his part, had always treated her
with extravagant ostentation of affection;
he did not fail in it now as he said,
after a swift, secret glance at his wife :
“Good morning, Lydia, my darling
child. Why, how nice you look this morn-
ing, dear. No, no, it was not about the
paper, Carmen, but a little private busi-
ness. Lydia, my darling, would you mind
leaving mamma and me alone for a little?
And tell the servants nnot to come till they
hear the bell.
“ Costainly,” she replied obediently. ©
Then she left the room, and Raymond
Ralston, as soon as the door shut, looke:
at his wife with an expression of such hag-
gard despair that it stirred her sensibly, as
he said in a low voice:
**Carmen, it’s a repetition of the mes-
sage Frilip sent John of England when
Richard Coeur de Lion escaped: ‘Take
heed to yourself, for the devil is unchained p
Jack Moore is out, and our game is u
**In what way?” she asked coldly, but
trembling, nevertheless, in spite of her
self- control.
“«Can you ask?” he repeated hoarsely.
“‘The man was sent to prison under the
name of John Lee, and we dare not arrest
him if he comes out openly as John
Moore !”
““Why should we arrest him?” she
asked, still more coldly. ‘* You know, as
well as I, that we ruined the poor fellow.
Even if he mana; ges to escape, and is not
dead of stanvation and cold, as the paper
says, he ot dare come near us, for
fear “of being sent back to prison.
“¢ That is true,” Ralston replied, rather
less agitatedly. ‘ But then there is Lydia.
Suppose she finds out the truth from him
or any one else?”
“*She never can. Word was sent to
him, the day he went to prison by our con-
nivance, that his child was dead. The
man would never dream of trying to verify
the report. As far as worldly justice is
concerned, Raymond Ralston, we are safe.
ave no fears for the money for which you
and I both sodd our souls.”
There was an indescribable tone of you
desolation in her voice, that showed
this woman, whom the world counted « so
fortunate, had been suffering in the midst
of her splendor. True, she had had no
spasms of fury, no constant quarrels, to
distort her features and mar her beauty,
or Carmen Ralston would long since have
been an old hag. But there was something
in her tone that startled Ralston and made
him ask irritabl
hat do you mean, Carmen? Don’t
give mieany bosh about selling souls to the
devil. , It’s all humbug and superstition.
There ’s no such thing as a devil, and you
know that as Well as I do.
He grumbled on, to Near himself. talk
and stop thinking; but the dark woman in
the casy-chair only replied gravely :
“T’m you think so. I know better,
to my sorrow.
** Know at ?” he asked, still more un-
easily, staring at her as if he suspected her
sanity. : ‘* Carmen, don’t be so mysterious,
but speak out. * What i is this you say you
know 2”
‘tThat there is a curse upon you and
me for the wrong we did Moore and—aye,
I can say now what I would not say seven-
teen years ago, Raymond Ralston—for the
wrong we did Lydia, that child’s mother.”
She spoke quietly and soberly, but there
was a mournfulness in her tone that he
could not fail to notice and under which he
became uneasy himself.
He gave her a vicious glance, and began
to walk up and down the room, with his
hands in his pockets, biting. his lips and
muttering to himself under bis breath, but
all the while: growing more and more
gloomy, till at last he stopped short before
her, set his jaw like a vise, and said in a
sort of growl
“* Curse or no curse, we got the money,
and no one can take it from us. Ill risk
the devil as long as I get the fun.”
he looked up at him in the Same quiet
way, and he noticed that there was.a kinder
Jook in her eyes than he had seen for many
a long year, as she replied slowl
“*T suppose you are right, Kem your
point of view, Raym After all, you
are not the only one "to blame. I have
never concealed that from myself. I have
partly tried to undo it by taking care of the
child. . You remember how ated: her,
for the sake of her mother. -You men don’t
know how women hate the women who steal
from them the man they love, Raymond—
He interrupted her with a bitter r laugh.
“N course not, t know
anything about jealousy, we ‘nen, You
are the only ones who suffer, and we have
all the fun. Oh, I have had a famous time
for the past seventeen years. Haven't I,
Carmen
And ‘he ground his teeth, glaring at her
in a singular way, as if he dreaded to speak
out, and then abruptly turned off and strode
to the other end of the room; while the
woman gazed after him with a certain
gloomy yet satisfied air, though she said
nothing till he came back and, pausing be-
fore her again, asked savagely ;
will you torment me in the way
you en
She eyed him steadily, and his eyes sunk
under hers. Then she smiled i in the same
mysterious way, as she sai
“Because I choose to. I never pre-
tended to love you, and you knowit. I
sold myself for money, and Jost my soul
that way. You sold yourself for revenge,
and lost yours, too. Now we are quits.
We know what we have .to expect after
death, and it only remains for us to pre-
vent our suffering defore our time. As you
say, we have the money, as Ralston is
dead, and left his mone:
He interrupted her again 1 with! the same
bitter lau
** Aye, he left it in a fine way to us two,
in trust for the daughter of John Moore
and Lydia Ralston, if she ever should be
found. , And that was your work, too, my
lady.”
**T don’t see what you have to complain
of,” she answered coldly. ‘‘ We have the
child and the proofs in our own hands, and
no one but ourselves knows who Lydia is.
We are absolutely safe to enjoy the money
during our lives; and if,she survives us,
we can make it-all right, after our death,
by leaving | the proofs behind us.
the meantime,” he snapped
out an ily,“ we only enjoy the income,
and dare not touch the principal. IT want
ayacht, and I can’t get one. I want to
set up a stable, and I can’t-doit. I want
to go to Wall Street, and have no capital.
Only’ the income, and I am already: in
debt, as you know. And you won't sign
a single. paper.”
**No, and I don’t intend to,” she an-
swered coldly. ‘‘If I gave you your own
way, all the fortune of Silas Ralston would
not last ten years, and we should be out
in the streets, at the end of that time. It
is no use wasting words about it. Let us
keep what we have got. Jack Moore is
out of State’s prison, and unless he has
died, you may be sure he will, in some
way, try to get revenge on us. That re-
venge we must frustrate. We have
money; he none, . Our business interests
are the same, now, Raymond. There-
fore, let us at least pretend to be friends.
I have an idea that the best thing we can
do is to take.a trip to Europe.and get
Lydia married off to some foreigner, to
keep her out of her father’s way.
“Why?” he asked, gnawing “his
uneasily.
“<Because, if ever Jack sees her, he
will think that fer mother has come to
life .again,” Carm: replied solemnly.
** Raymond, hav ent you seen it?) The
resemblance is SO startling that at times,
I find myself wondering if it be not all a
dream, and Lydia Ralston, who used to
be my pupil years ago, come to life again.”
The man gnawed his lip still more un-
easily, as he growle:
«7 know it. That's why I daren’t look
her in the face, sometimes. But what
you say is true. We must keep her out
of Jack's ways and lay our plans to send
him back to prison, at the earliest moment.
After ait he is still John Lee, the convict;
and his escape will add another term to
his imprisonment. I have set the private
letectives to work; and I think, before
long, they will have him, if he dare go
to Rainton or come here,”
(TO BE CONTINUED IN OUR NEXT—NO. 51.]
lip
ONLY A GIRL’S HEARTY
A MYSTERY OF HADDON’S FERRY.
-BY MRS. E. D. Ex. N. SOUTHWORTH.
CHAPTER XI.
THE BLACK MAGIC.
66 HE scene that followed? Oh,
Heaven, the scene that followed t
When I saw the inhuman sav-
age clutch my Lily with such
ruthless violence that she shrank and
moaned under his talons, with a desperate
bound I threw off the two men who he!
me, sprang upon the beast, hurled him
from his prey, and gathered her to my
bosom.
‘© Ah, poor fluttering dove ! She had but
an. instant’s respite.
“With hue and cry they set upon me—
Hiram Slaughter, the constables and the
men of the house, whom they loudly called
to their aid. Lily was torn from me.
was beaten down, overpowered, and hand-
cuffed as if I had been a convicted felon.
“One of the women of the house was
sent to our room to fetch Lily’s hat and
sack. When these were brought and put
on the pale, trembling child by one of the
girls, Hiram Slaughter strode forward,
seized his victim, and jerked her hand
within his arm to lead her away.
en she turned upon me such a look
YS Copyright, 1974, 1802, by. Ronrnt Boxnen’s SONS,
vright 187A rights reac
—oh! Such a look of heavenly love and
trust, as, rising above all weakness, she
sai
“<< Take courage, dear husband. In ten
days I shall be of age, and then no one
will have a right’ to stay me, and I will
come to you ; for Ict them say what they
wih Tknow that lam your own wedded
2
BE
Take that, you impudent jade !
roared Hiram Slaughter, striking her full
upon the mouth with his open hand, and
with such force, that her blood Rilo
the blow.
“T was maddened by the sight. I
struggled with my captors, like the maniac
that I was! I railed on Hiram Slaughter
like any drunkard! Ah, how futile were all
my efforts
‘* She held a white handkerchief to her
wounded lips, to absorb the blood, and
looked at me with eyes full of compassion.
, how miserable and contemptible
I seemed to myself, in my utter helpless:
ness to help her! When I realized this, I
shamed my manhood and wept
“Then her sweet voice spoke again:
**Vet still be patient, dear Gabriel.
What can they do to us, after all? They
can but torture or kill the body, and ‘after
that they have no more that they can do.”