"Give us your hand on it, then," said Bill. "And now, give us yours, lieutenant, and the thing's settled."
With this, they all shook hands in token of agreement, and thus their faith was pledged. But what a rebuke Dick inadvertently administered to Duffel in his quaint remarks! How his vicious heart, bad as it was, must have felt the blow, and all the more severely that it came from such a source! However, the villain was not to be turned from his purpose, and so, pocketing the unintentional affront, he proceeded:
"As you have already heard, our most worthy captain will be absent on important business for some time to come, and during the period of his absence the duties of command will devolve on me. I have long been contemplating a measure, which, if carried out, will be of great and lasting benefit to our order. In order to conduct the affair to a successful termination, it may become necessary to imprison a female, a young lady of great beauty and accomplishments, in this cave. I do not know that it will require such extreme measures as this, I hope it will not, but should it become needful to go to this extreme, I shall desire your aid in carrying her off."
"We'll be with you, as we have already pledged ourselves; but we must ask, as a favor in return, that you allow us to settle a personal affair with Amos Duval."
"Of what nature? You know he is a member of theLeague, and that it is a crime to lift a hand against him."
"We know all about that; but Duval is a traitor at heart, and we can prove him such."
"Then proceed against him in the order, and I will stand by you."
"That's just what we want; first to prove him worthy of death by our laws, and secondly, to be allowed to execute the sentence pronounced against him."
Duffel could not but see that there was a discrepancy between the first and last request of these fellows, though they tried to make them appear as one, and he knew there was personal enmity at the bottom of the whole affair. His duty, as a member of the order, made it obligatory for him to discourage any ill feeling among the members; but he needed the services of these two rascals, and so forbore to reprove them.
"I will aid you as far as my duty to the League will permit, provided you will do me still another service."
"Name it."
"There is a fellow standing in my way in the prosecution of a scheme for the benefit of our order, and I would like to have him removed. I understand you with regard to Duval; you wish to be revenged upon him for some injury or insult, and that revenge looks to his death. You need not say, yea or nay; well, we will stand by each other all around. I will give you further instructions at another time. Hold yourselves in readiness at any moment to aid me. Meet me in the forest by the old oak, on the path to the 'Swamp,' every day, and be always prepared for either of the services I may require at your hands."
"You may rely on us."
Thus these worthies parted. What a series of villainous conspiracies had been developed in this one night, in that secret den of iniquity! Will these murderers succeed in all their plans? Alas! the wicked often triumph.
The captain soon returned, and placed the key of his room in Duffel's possession—and then the clan dispersed.
"Charles, Charles! Where is Charles?"
This name and inquiry were often repeated by Miss Mandeville as she still lay "between life and death," on her couch of fever, pain and unconsciousness, and the tones of her voice were so full of sorrow, the father's heart melted at last, and he began to relent. And when, after a pause, his daughter would continue:
"He is gone! gone!—gone forever!—ah, my poor heart!"—in accents more sadly plaintive than any words that had over fallen upon the parent's ear, he said to himself:
"It must not be! Hadley shall be, sent for; she loves him, and his voice may call her back to consciousness. I cannot bear to think of her leaving the world in ignorance of her father's good will; better a thousand times that Hadley should be with her for a few hours. He may not be guilty after all. Why ought I to believe Duffel's word before his? Yes, and before that of my own daughter, too? and that without a word of explanation! No, it is unnatural. I wonder I have been blinded so long! Yes, Hadley shall be heard, and if he can show a clean hand, Eveline shall no longer mourn over his absence and my rashness."
This was going a step farther than Mr. Mandeville had ever gone before: for he had never been known to recede from a position once taken or to change an opinion once formed, unless the most positive evidence compelled him to do so, and then it was a silent acquiescence to the right rather than a willing change of opinion.
But a long continuance in the sick room, and the great distress of his child, had had an effect upon his mind, which no amount of reasoning could have produced—he was constrained to acknowledge himself in error, and brought his mind up to that point where he was willing to confess the wrong he had perpetrated, by "undoing what he had done amiss." This was a great achievement for one of his temperament—a conquest over self in a very selfish and stubborn nature—which gave evidence that there was yet an under strata of good, a foundation to the character of the man, which, though covered up by the rubbish and rank growth of pride and other unamiable dispositions, still existed, and was capable of exciting to good and noble deeds.
Having once gained the consent of his mind and formed a resolution to retract, he was not long in taking the initiatory step toward amendment.
He inquired of the maid and nurse if Hadley had been seen, and learned from them that he had been in the daily practice of asking after the condition of Eveline, and that for this purpose he came to a certain designated spot, where one of the two met him to impart such information as he desired. No sooner was Mr. Mandeville put in possession of this piece of news, than he resolved to meet Hadley at the place of conference himself, and then and there recall his words and invite him to the house, from which he had been excluded so unjustly. Verily this was a change!
Acting upon this resolve, he walked out in the direction of the place where Hadley was expected to make his appearance. As he leisurely sauntered down the path and neared the spot, his eye fell upon a piece of paper folded up in the shape of a letter. He picked the document up and examined it. It was directed in a bold hand to
"Charles Hadley, —— ——, ——."
On the back of the letter and above the seal were the words: "Private and strictly confidential," placed in such a manner as to catch the eye at a first glance on either side of the letter. The seal was broken and the letter bore ample evidences of having been carefully and repeatedly read.
An irresistable desire to examine the contents of this paper took possession of Mr. Mandeville, and in spite of the breach of good manners, and the violation of every principle of honor, he retired to anobscure corner of his garden, opened and read so much of the epistle as was intelligible to him, which ran as follows:
"Dear Hadley:—According to agreement, as entered into by us at our conference in old Marshall's garden, I now impart to you the following information, which you will receive at the hands of one of our most trustworthy associates. You will please note the contents of this communication, so as not to fail in the execution of that part of the transaction assigned to you, and then burn the letter immediately, that you may prevent the possibility of its falling into other hands, which would lead to the most disastrous consequences—perhaps to the destruction of our organization. When taken, bring the horses at once to the rendezvous, with such other valuables as may come in your possession; and be sure that everything is done secretly, and in such a manner as to avoid detection. Be bold and determined in resolution, but cautious and guarded in action. Yours, —— ——, Capt."
The captain's name was written in characters, as well as all the body of the letter, which Mr. Mandeville did not understand, and which were evidently to be intelligible only to the members of some band of villains, by whom the signs had been adopted as mediums of communication. At the bottom of all was a line to this effect:
"P.S. What will the old man say when he is gone? It will be using him right for the scaly trick he served you so recently; eh!"
What a change the perusal of this document brought about in the mind of Mr. Mandeville! The softened expression of benevolence, which had lit up his countenance with a glow, left it in a moment. A dark frown settled upon his brow and clouds of blackness over his face.
All his former prejudice against Hadley returned in ten-fold strength; for had he not the most positive proof of his villainy? Not a moment longer waited he for an interview, but with the letter carefully stowed away in a side pocket for future reference and use, he bent his steps back to his house, revolving in his mind how to proceed in the present emergency. That some great scheme of theft and robbery had been planned, with a design to be speedily executed, was evident from the contents of the letter; but where and when the act or acts were to be committed, it was impossible to tell, and consequently, a very difficult matter to decide upon a course of policy likely to thwart the designs of the rogues. After much reflection, Mr. Mandeville concluded it was best to lay the case before the magistrate and take legal advice how to proceed He did so. In a private conference with that functionary, they talked over the matter. The justice was a worthy man and a friend to Hadley, and though the evidence was overwhelming and nearly positive of his guilt, yet he could not find it in his heart to condemn the young man without a hearing, and was equally unable to get the consent of his mind to make the matter public, thereby injuring the reputation of his friend, until he could see and converse with him on the subject. He advised Mr. Mandeville thus:
"I think the best thing we can do is to keep an eye on the movements of this young man, Hadley, as well as upon others who may be associated with him, if he is the villain he is here made to appear. If we institute proceedings against him, we have only this letter to rely upon, which is not sufficient to convict him, as there is no legible name at the bottom of it, and no witness to corroborate the statements. If he is guilty, premature action will give him all advantages, and enable him to clear himself; whereas, by instituting a strict surveillance over his acts, we may be able to get at the truth of the matter, and can then act understandingly in the case."
Mr. Mandeville coincided with the magistrate, and then they agreed to keep the matter strictly to themselves for the present.
"Shall I retain the letter?" inquired the justice.
"No, I wish to use it, first, and will then leave it with you," was the reply—and thus the matter was settled between them.
While the events just related were transpiring, and at the very hour when Mr. Mandeville was consulting the man of law, Duffel was engaged with his two ruffian associates in a plot of villainy, which, for deep cunning and calculation, was superior to anything he had yet conceived and carried out, though it was buta link in the chain of criminal acts he had forged out and was about to follow up. The two held their consultation in the tongueless and earless solitude of a dense swamp, where none could hear their words or learn the purport of their schemes and give warning.
"You understand about the horses, do you?" queried Duffel, after he had been explaining some intended operation, in which horses were to be stolen.
"Yes, fully," was the reply.
"Well, the horses will be missed, and, of course, it will be known thatsomebodyhas taken them. I have a measure to propose which will throw suspicion on the wrong track and relieve us from any fear of being charged with the theft or even suspected of guilt."
"That's the sort! do the killing and get the halter around some other rascal's neck. Let us hear your proposition, lieutenant."
"You have not forgotten that I mentioned to you in the cave the other evening, that I might need your services in getting rid of a troublesome fellow who was in my way. I did not then expect to need your services so soon, if at all, in this branch of our agreement; but, as the horse business is agreed upon, and as the fellow may possibly be something of a hindrance to my plans of operation in the future, I think this will be a first-rate occasion on which to dispose of him. As I said, somebody will be accused of stealing the horses, and as it is known that you, gentlemen, have recently been in these parts, and as suspicion has long since pointed to you as having had a hand in several transactions held to be unlawful, you will, as a matter of certainty, be designated as the thieves in this instance, unless, by some master-stroke of policy, you can fairly show that you are not guilty. Do you see this?"
"It all looks mighty likely, certain."
"Don't it look more than likely? Don't it look just as if it could not be otherwise?"
"Why, yes; it does look so, that's a fact."
"Of course you would like to cast the blame somewhere else?"
"We would, that's certain."
Well, you can do it. I have already prepared the way, and if you will follow my instructions to the letter, the thing is done?"
"Give us our parts and we will act them to the life," said Bill, who had been spokesman for both, as was usual at such times.
"Ay," said Dick, "and to the death, too, I guess."
"Quite likely, quite likely!" rejoined Duffel. "Do you think you will have the nerve to perform this extreme act Should it become necessary?"
"Does Lieutenant Duffel take us to be cowards, that he makes such a white-livered insinuation?"
"By no means; I only wished to know if you werenowprepared for any emergency that might come up?"
"Yes, any time and always. Go on."
"My plan is this: So soon as the horses are in our possession, we must convey them to the middle of the 'Swamp,' and be back by morning, or noon at furthest,and show ourselves. If we are about early, say as soon as possible after the animals are missed, andtake part in the search, few, if any, will think of us as being the thieves, as they are pleased to term such operators, while we can, at the same time, turn the hunt after the horses in the direction in which they are not to be found, if we can do so without exciting suspicions of our aims. Mark that! we must be cautious and not overdo the thing, or it will be worse for us than to do nothing."
"We understand."
"Well, that is all on that point; but there is something more to be done; we must direct suspicion to some one else; some one must be accused, andhe must not be about. You comprehend?"
"Perfectly."
"Well, I have the sheep already prepared for the sacrifice."
"Who is he, and where will we find him?"
"Charles Hadleyis the man, and you will find him just in the right place—the dark passage in the road to C——; he passes that point every night about nine or ten o'clock. You know what to do with him."
"Would it not be as well to carry him to the save and imprison him? You know, it would not be murder, then."
"I had thought of that; but if we take him there, it will not do to let him outagain, for, if we did, it would be the end of us all; so we should have to both imprison and murder him in the end, which would be much worse than to put him out of the way at once, let alone the risk attending the plan you suggest."
"Right."
"You see, then, we will have some one on whom to lay the theft?"
"Exactly! Huzza for Lieutenant Duffel!"
"Silence!"
"I beg pardon."
"Remember the time, next Thursday night, and don't fail to be at the 'dark passage' in time."
"We'll be there, don't fear; and the thing shall be done up handsomely."
"But what's to be done with the feller's body when he's dead, I'd like to know?" interposed Dick.
"Sure enough," replied Duffel; "I had forgotten to instruct you on that point. Take him to the sink in that black swamp, and be sure to make himstay under. We want no tell-tale carcasses showing themselves."
"You need have no fears on that point; once there and he'll never see the light again, nor the light him."
"I will now leave you to make such arrangements between yourselves as may be necessary for the work before you. Leave nothing incomplete, and be punctual to the very minute in every instance."
With this parting injunction, Duffel left his villainous companions, who began at once to prepare themselves for the dastardly business their superior had allotted to them in his schemes of rascality and black-hearted crime. This was Monday, in the afternoon, and consequently, but three days until Hadley was to be waylaid and slain, and immediately afterward somebody's horses stolen and run off, the crime of stealing which was to be laid upon the murdered man. This was a plot worthy of the wretch who conceived it, and, with the aid of villains as unscrupulous as himself, was about to be put in execution.
From the moment the command of the "Order of the League of Independents" (it ought have been named the Order of the League of Murderers and Horse-Thieves) was vested in him, during the captain's absence, he had resolved to make the most of his time and authority to bring all his plans to a crisis and an issue. Hadley was to be disposed of; Mandeville was to be blinded, his daughter, through him, forced to wed the rascal, or, failing in this,shewas to be forced into measures, by fair means or foul, of which hereafter.
Friday morning was ushered in amid clouds and storm. The heavens were shrouded in a pall of darkness and the rain came down in torrents. Mr. Mandeville had spent most of the night with his daughter, and did not retire until some hours past midnight. Having been deprived of so much rest, during the previous two weeks and more, his slumbers were unusually heavy, and it was a late hour in the morning when he awoke, and the dismal weather adding to his drowsiness, he continued to lay and rest after consciousness had returned. His half-waking, half-dreaming meditations were broken in upon by a gentle tap at his bed-room door. In a moment he was wide awake, care for his child having quickened his senses, and demanded if Eveline was any worse.
"No, sir," was the reply, "it is only Mr. Duffel, who has called and inquired for you."
"Tell him I will be down in a few minutes."
Wondering what could bring his visitor at such an early hour, Mr. Mandeville hastily dressed and went into the parlor, where he met and was saluted by Duffel in the most cordial manner.
"I reached home at a late hour last night," said the hypocrite, "and felt so great an anxiety to hear from you and your daughter, I could not wait for the storm to abate, but hastened at this unseasonable hour to inquire after her welfare and yours. I hope I have not intruded so far but that you will pardon my unfashionable call and seeming impatience. How is Eveline?"
"You are always welcome, come at what hour you may. I can hardly answer your last question; I think Eveline is better in some respects, but she is greatly reduced, and when the fever leaves, will, doubtless, be very weak.—I both hope and fear for her. The fever will run its course, and if she hasconstitution enough to outlive it and recuperate, she will recover; otherwise the result will be fatal."
"It is impossible, then, for the most skillful and far-seeing to foretell the issue?"
"Quite impossible. Will you now excuse me for a short time? I have not looked after my stock this morning."
"With pleasure."
Mr. Mandeville left his guest around whose mouth a peculiar smile was playing as he passed out at the door. That smile had a meaning.
After a brief absence the host returned, and in some consternation announced that his best horse had been stolen during the night.
"Is it possible!" said Duffel, feigning the utmost surprise. "What villain could take advantage of the sickness of your daughter, to plan and execute such a cowardly act?"
"I am persuaded there are more than one connected with these thefts; indeed, I may say, I know there are numbers of thieves infesting the country. They are regularly banded together; and, would you believe it, that Hadley, of whom we were once speaking, is an officer in the band, as I have every reason to believe."
"That will exactly correspond with what I told you in the interview to which you allude."
"True."
"Have you seen him lately?"
"I have not."
"Can he be found this morning?"
"Ah, I perceive your thoughts are running in the same direction as my own. We will inquire after him."
The inquiries were instituted, but no Hadley was to be found; he had left the day previous, but no one could tell whither he had gone, or what had called him away. When these facts were ascertained, Mandeville and Duffel exchanged a significant glance, as much as to say: "Just as we expected!"
The horse stolen was one of great value, and Mr. Mandeville was resolved to make a desperate effort to recover him; and he was the more fixed in this determination, because the horse was intended as a gift to Eveline on her recovery, in case shedidrecover, and, also, because, as he believed, the detection of the culprit would expose the baseness of her lover to his daughter, and cause her to discard him at once from her thoughts.—Full of these thoughts, he offered a handsome reward for the horse, and a very large one for the apprehension of the thief. In prospect of obtaining these rewards, as well as to render a service to community, some six individuals banded themselves together with the avowed intention of ferreting out the matter, and immediately set out for that purpose.
A few days after the transactions recorded in the preceding chapter, the fever left Eveline, and consciousness was restored to its empire and reason to its throne. But alas! what a wreck of her former self she was! Mr. Mandeville could scarcely restrain his tears while gazing upon her pallid countenance and wasted form. She was helpless as a child, and so weak it was feared the recuperative powers were exhausted, and she must die from prostration; but a day or two of careful nursing, aided by cordials and tonics, produced a change for the better, and in the course of ten days, she was able to walk in the open air and happy sunshine, supported by her father. How lightly his heart beat in his bosom, as the child of his pride and affection leaned upon his arm, as he gently led her whither she desired to go.
She had a little arbor in the garden, the vines about which had been carefully trained by her own hands; it had always been a favorite resort, and of late had become a thousand times more dear, because it was there that she and Hadley had spent most of their happy hours. So soon as she had sufficient strength to bear the fatigue, she requested to be taken there, and her wish was granted. What a throng of memories came crowding through her mind as she once more sat in that verdant bower! Every flower had a tongue and a reminiscence, and the entire place and scene spoke of the past in language mute but eloquent. How her heart beat with excitement, as the many associations of other days rushed over her spirit with the lightening wings of thought, and awakenedemotions of joy and grief. While with the past she was happy; but when the cheerless present occupied her mind, sadness filled her heart, while shadows gathered upon her brow, and tears in her eyes.
The father saw all this, for he watched the changes of her countenance with the deepest solicitude. When he noted the saddened expression that came over it, his heart was heavy, for he divined the cause. How his feeling of bitterness toward Hadley increased, as he saw the wreck of happiness he had made; and how he longed to expose the blackness of his character to his infatuated daughter! He felt certain that his child would cease to regard him as she had done, the moment she was put in possession of the facts which so clearly established his guilt. But it would cost her a severe struggle, and he feared she was yet too weak to sustain the shock.
At length, however, as he perceived that internal grief was preying upon her spirits, it occurred to him that the evil resulting from this eating sorrow, which was brooded over in secret, would be greater in the end than the quick pang, though it should be sharp and powerful for an hour or a day. Approaching her affectionately, and with great tenderness of manner, he said:
"You are sad, Eveline; you are not happy, I know you are not; and yet you do not confide your sorrow to me. Is this kind, my dear?"
"Oh, father!" and she burst into tears. He drew her head upon his bosom, and for a short period permitted sorrow to have its way, then inquired:
"May I share my daughter's grief?"
"Father, father, do not wound my heart afresh! I fear me now it will never heal!"
"Eveline, child, you misunderstand me. God forbid that I should add to your sorrow; my only desire is to relieve and heal!"
"May I indeed trust in my father? Oh, what a question to ask myself! Yet—"
"Yet what? Speak fully, and let us for once open our hearts to each other without reserve."
"Yet I fear I have had cause to make the inquiry."
"I fear so too, my dear; but let us now understand each other. I hope much from such an understanding."
"What would you draw from me?"
"The secret of your unhappiness."
"Do you not know it already?"
"I surmise the cause."
"And you think—"
"Ifearit is because you love Charles Hadley."
"Why do youfearthat is the cause?"
"Because he is unworthy of your love."
"Oh, do not say so! Is poverty a mark of unworthiness?"
"No, it is not; if he was only poor I would give my consent to your union to-day; but I am sorry to say he is wicked as well as poor."
"What mean you? You surely can allege nothing against one so noble, and possessed of such pure principles, as Charles Hadley?"
"Alas, my daughter, he has basely deceived you."
"Father!"
"I would not say so on slight grounds, but it is too sadly true."
"I must have proof, strong proof, ere I can believe that he is false."
"Could you bear such an exposure?"
"Yes."
"Then you shall have the evidence of his guilt at once."
Saying this, he produced the letter before spoken of, and placed it in her hands for perusal.
It would be impossible to describe Eveline's feelings while examining the contents of the letter. At first, the evidence appeared so conclusive and overwhelming her strong faith in her lover was shaken; but a second reading and second thoughts restored her confidence, yet she could hardly account for the change in her feelings and judgment, the evidence was just as strong as before, and she could not help acknowledging the fact; she only knew that shefeltHadley was innocent; and she would trust this intuitive conviction in preference to any anonymous communication that could be produced against him. But what should she say to her parent? How could she impress him with her own feelings, or even fix a doubt of Hadley's guilt in his mind? While she was revolving these things in her mind, Mr. Mandeville kept his eye upon her, and noted every change of expression that passed over her face. At length he said:
"What do you think of that?"
The question found her still in doubt as to what she should say in defense of herlover, but with the query came decision of purpose, and she readily replied:
"I think it is a forgery."
"A forgery?"
"Yes, so far as Hadley is concerned. I do not believe he has ever seen it."
"You surely do not believe I would be guilty of such baseness as your words imply."
"Oh! no, no; I do not for a moment doubt your good faith and perfect sincerity; but I think you are deceived. How did you get possession of this document?"
"Well, I must confess, not in the most upright manner, or rather, my knowledge of that portion of its contents which is intelligible, was obtained ignobly; but I cannot blame myself for the act, since it has placed such important facts at my disposal."
Here he related the circumstance of finding and reading the letter, and then added:
"You see the whole train of circumstances renders it impossible that Hadley should not be the one to whom the letter was addressed. I found it just in the place where he was in the habit of coming, a spot that no one else frequented, and so secluded as to forbid the idea of a casual passenger dropping it. Beside, where is there another person of the same name?"
"I frankly own there is a mystery connected with the subject which I cannot explain, but that mystery does not convince me of Hadley's guilt."
"What incredulity! What stronger evidence do you want to convict him?"
"I desire positive assurance that the letter was actually written to and for him; at present I do not believe that it was."
"Love is truly blind!"
"Love?"
"Yes."
"What has that to do with the case under consideration?"
"It is not worth while for you to disguise the fact that you have loved Hadley; I know that you do or did, and your own heart knows full well how much it has suffered through that love. Alas, that I, your own father, should have caused you so much anguish!"
"Does my father really say that?"
"Yes, Eveline, and much more. If you only knew how deeply I have suffered, what anguish I endured, as your fevered and broken exclamations fell upon my ear while watching by your bedside, I think you could find it in your heart to forgive me for the unintentional wrong, it was my misfortune, and not my wish, to inflict upon you."
"Father, I have wronged you," said she, leaning forward and winding her arms about his neck. "Forgive me for accusing you of cruelty and unkindness in my thoughts."
"You had cause for such accusation, though it was farthest from my thoughts to injure you. I did, however, once think of forcing you to wed Duffel, and this is the only real wrong I meditated against you, and I was persuaded it was for your good; but I see differently now—you shall never be coerced into a union with any man against your will."
"Thank you for that assurance; it relieves me from one source of disquiet."
"I am entitled to no thanks; it is not a parent's prerogative to use violence in such cases, though I once held differently. And let me here say to you, that in all I have done mymotiveswere pure. I desired your good above all else, and that I was endeavoring to procure happiness for you in the wrong way was only an error of judgment, the incorrectness of which I now see clearly."
"How much I have misunderstood you, and how much you have misconceived your own heart."
"True; the world, and the opinions of worldly men, had almost buried up the good that was in me; but the light of Heaven has shone into my spirit, the fog is dispelled, and I see where I have departed from the right way."
"Thank Heaven for that!"
"I hope, now that we understand each other, I may dare to make a request of you, which you may or may not feel free to grant."
"Name it."
"It is this, that you will hold no communication with Hadley until this matter is satisfactorily cleared up, or until he can show that he is innocent of the crimes this letter would fasten upon him."
"If it is your wish I will do so, though I should be pleased to know what he could say in his own favor. I feel strongly confident he will be able to prove himself innocent of all and any participation in themany thefts and other villainies which have of late become so common. Where is he now?"
"Ah, there it is again! I have not told you that Tom was stolen some time ago."
"Tom stolen!"
"Yes; he was taken very soon after this letter came into my possession, and Hadley has never been seen or heard of since!"
"How?"
"On the very night that Tom was taken from the stable, Hadley disappeared, and neither he nor the horse have been heard of since! Have I not strong reasons for believing him guilty, as held out in this letter?"
"I must confess, this last piece of intelligence staggers my faith."
"You will now begin to understand why I took such decided steps toward him, as a visitor here, on that memorable occasion which resulted so disastrously. I had the strongest assurance of his being associated with bad men for bad purposes, ere I forbid him the house. I only regret that I acted so precipitately. I hope, however, all will come right in the end."
"God grant that it may."
Here their intercourse was interrupted by the announcement that Duffel had called and inquired for Mr. Mandeville.—They returned to the house, and the two gentlemen had a private interview to the following effect:
"How is Eveline?" inquired Duffel.
"I am happy to say she is very much better."
"I am truly glad to hear that she is convalescing. What do you think is the state of her feelings in certain delicate matters?"
"I am persuaded her good opinion of Hadley has received a shock from which it will never recover. That letter, in connection with his present disappearance, was too much for her faith."
"And well it might be! I do not see how any one could doubt his guilt in the face of such evidence."
"Yet I think Eveline does doubt; but that the doubt will soon give place to full conviction, I am quite sure. Once you can fix a partially formed belief of crime in the mind, and if the evidence continues, especially if it accumulates, there is a moral certainty of its producing the effect we desire in the present instance."
"How long do you suppose it will take Eveline to forget any preference she may have had for Hadley?"
"I do not know."
"Do you not think the exercise of a little paternal authority would accelerate the accomplishment of your wishes? I hope you will pardon me if the suggestion is ill-timed or out of taste; it is made in accordance with a declaration to that effect you will remember to have made to me a short time previous to your daughter's illness."
"I have not forgotten the declaration to which you allude; it was made in the heat of a moment of excitement; but I am frank to own that it was then my determination to use parental authority toward Eveline, in case it became necessary to do so, in order to bend her will to my purposes. This intention I have entirely abandoned. I have reflected more dispassionately on the subject; and I now see clearly that my daughter has rights as well as myself, and that first in importance among these, is the right to bestow herself in marriage to whom she chooses. I will continue to give you my influence, but I have already pledged her my word that she shall be free to make her own selection of a husband."
"You are right, sir, right. I see wherein we have both erred in our former views; but then we were blinded, at least I was; for you know love has always been blind. I must crave your pardon, as I would the forgiveness of Eveline, were she present, for having entertained so unjust a thought toward her for a single moment. Be assured, if she cannot be won by gentleness and love, I shall never consent to make her my wife, though she is dearer to me than life itself."
"Very well; I still feel that all will come out right, and that a peaceful calm of sunshine will succeed the season of storm and clouds; but we must not hurry matters; time will do more for us than we can for ourselves, whereas haste might defeat all our hopes. At present, I do not think it would be advisable for you to urge your suit to her; her mind is not yet prepared to receive you with that degree of favor desirable."
"I shall act in the matter as yourbetter judgment and clearer perception shall dictate, and hope for the best."
And thus the interview ended. How strange that Mr. Mandeville should be so easily deceived in regard to Duffel! and how debasingly hypocritical was the dissembling villain! Will he never be overtaken by his crimes?
On the appointed night, the two ruffians, Bill and Dick, repaired to the "dark passage," according to arrangement, and with daggers and pistols (the latter only to be used in case of necessity, as the report of firearms might lead to detection,) awaited the arrival of their victim. About nine o'clock, the sound of horses' feet, approaching at a rapid gait, gave them to understand the hour of their deadly work was at hand. Taking their stand, one on either side of the road, they silently awaited the horseman's coming.
It was a dismal place, a low, wet valley, densely shaded and overgrown by trees, whose thick foliage scarcely admitted a single sunbeam to penetrate to the earth beneath. This gloomy passage was about half a mile in extent, and at its dark center the villains had posted themselves. Their plans were all fully matured, even down to the minute details. They were both to spring out and seize the horse by the bridle; then, while Bill held the animal, Dick was to strike the fatal blow to the heart of the rider. Not a word was to be spoken. As the man entered the passage, his pace was slackened, and he kept his eye about him, as if in fear of an attack. When within about a hundred yards of the concealed assassins, Bill whispered to his companion across the road:
"Now, Dick, make sure work of it; let the first blow tell the tale, while it silences his tongue!"
"Never fear for me; take care of your own part, and I'll do the same by mine," was Dick's reply.
In a few seconds, the horseman came abreast of the ambuscaders, both of whom sprang out at the same moment, and seizing the bridle-reins, checked the horse so suddenly as to throw him back on his haunches, to the imminent peril of the rider, who was nearly thrown from his seat. In a moment, the glittering blade of steel was at his breast. Just then, the moon broke through a rift in the clouds, and being directly in a line with the road, shone fully on the group and into the face of the traveler.
"By Jove! it's the wrong man!" exclaimed Dick, as he lowered his blade and looked at Bill inquiringly.
"So it is!" said Bill; and then, addressing the stranger, continued: "Beg pardon, sir, for our interruption. We have mistaken you for a notorious villain, thief, and robber, who was to pass this way to-night, and who, as the laws are too weak to protect us, we have determined to punish ourselves. The fact is, these, horse-thieves must be dealt with, and that speedily, too, or there will be no such thing as safety for our stock. For our parts, we have resolved to defend our property at all hazards, and others will have to do the same thing, or keep nothing of their own, for these thieves are banded together, and they are so numerous, and some of them so respectable, it is impossible to convict them before a jury; they swear each other off. Hope you will not think evil of our plans."
"To tell the truth, gentlemen, (for I take you to be gentlemen in disguise,) there is too much reality in what you say. I fear we shall have to take the law into our own hands, for these depredators are becoming so numerous and bold, there is no telling to what length their wickedness may run. These thieving operationsmustbe stopped, cost what it may; but it seems to me this is a bad place to commence the work; it looks too much like secret murder. When I have recourse to the last resort in defense of my property it will be upon my own promises, and while the villains are in the act of crime."
"That is doubtless the best method in all ordinary cases; but the rascal whom we were expecting to pass this way to-night is too cunning to be caught at his work. He is well known to be guilty, and has more than once been arrested and tried; but always with the same result; his friends have sworn him clear; andnow, we've sworn he shall go free no longer."
"Well, be careful, and don't kill the wrong man."
"We'll take care. Excuse the manner in which our introduction was made."
"Certainly, gentlemen, certainly; but don't miss your man again."
"We'll not."
"Good night."
"Good night, and a pleasant journey for you."
The man rode on and was soon out of hearing. He was the more easily deceived as to the character of his assailants, because he knew that the sentiments they expressed were held almost universally by the honest portion of the community, and already several thieves had been shot at, some of whom were known to have been wounded, though not fatally. The miscreants knew this state of public feeling, and hence their ruse. When the man was beyond hearing, Bill said, exultingly:
"Didn't I wool the fellow's eyes beautifully?"
"It was well done, Bill, well done—the best job you ever bossed. But say, do you know the man?"
"No, not from the devil."
"Well, sir, it's 'Squire Williams, sure's I'm a living son of my mother!"
"'Squire Williams?"
"Yes, it is. I've known him ever since I had such hard work to get off from him; I tell you, when I thought of the trial, I felt mightily like payin' him off for his advice on that occasion, after I was cleared; but, think's I, it won't do."
"It's well you come to that conclusion; we don't want over one dead man on our hands at once. But say, what shall we do?"
"Wait a while longer for that Hadley, and if he don't come, then go to meet Duffel."
This suggestion was accordingly acted upon. After remaining nearly three hours longer for their victim, who came not, they repaired to the place of rendezvous, to report to their employer and superior, and finish up the other branch of the night's business.
Arrived at the spot, they found Duffel pacing up and down in a state of impatience and disquietude. So soon as he was cognizant of their presence, he inquired:
"How now? What has kept you so late? Is all right?"
"If your honor will take breath a moment between the questions, we will endeavor to answer them," replied Bill.
"Well, proceed. Did you do the job?"
"No, not exactly as laid down in the bill, but—"
"What! did you let him go?"
"Why, no, your honor, we didn't let him go, for the very good reason that he didn't give us a chance to show him so much mercy."
"How?"
"You see the fellow didn't come himself, but sent a substitute!"
"The deuce, he did! How's that?"
"That's what we can't tell; we only know, that instead of young Hadley, we came within an ace of killing 'Squire Williams!"
"'Squire Williams!"
"Yes, sir. He came along at the precise hour that should have brought the other, and it being too dark to distinguish one man from another, or from old Nick for that matter, we fell on to him, and but for the merest chance would have finished him."
Here the enactment of the early part of the evening was rehearsed in full.
"It is well you got off so easily, and I must give you credit for your ingenuity; but I am exceedingly sorry the bird we were after has escaped. However, as that cannot be helped or amended just now, we will proceed with the rest of our work."
"What hour of the night is it?"
"About one o'clock; and that reminds me of the fact that we will not have time to take all the stock to-night; we shall, therefore, confine our operations to a single item—the taking of Mandeville's horse."
"Mandeville's?"
"Yes; why not?"
"I thought your honor was playing for another stake in that quarter?"
"And if I am?"
"Why, I just thought it was a queer way of gaining the old gentleman's good will—that thing of taking his horse."
"Not so queer as you might think for."
"Oh! I remember now; excuse me;this Hadley was to be made the scapegoat; you were to get a horse and have the blame of the theft thrown on a rival, whose non-appearance should condemn him. I see it all now, though I did not perceive this delicate undercurrent in the plan of affairs. Lieutenant Duffel against the world, I say!"
"Silence! Dick, you are familiar with Mr. Mandeville's premises, I believe?"
"Yes, tolerably so."
"Well, I want you to bring Tom here in about half an hour; and do the job up nicely, too."
"I'll try, sir."
"You mustdoit. Be quick; it is going to rain soon, and we must get him away before the tracks will show; but don't so much as disturb the sleeping grasshoppers by your noise."
"All right."
"Go now, and be here again in the shortest possible time. Bill and I will arrange matters for future operations while you are gone."
Dick hastened away to do the bidding of his master, and Duffel communicated to Bill the following piece of intelligence:
"I was very much in hopes the whole of our plan for to-night would succeed, though I heard that in the evening which caused me to have misgivings on the subject. I learned that Hadley received intelligence that his mother and uncle were both sick and not expected to recover.—They live in Philadelphia: the uncle, his mother's brother, a bachelor, by the way, with whom she is living, is reputed wealthy, and, it is said, has willed his property to young Hadley. The news of these events was brought to him yesterday, and he made immediate preparations to go east, but did not expect to get off until this morning. I presume, however, he must have started yesterday in the after part of the day; but be this as it may, I wish you and Dick to follow after him, and don't fail to finish him somehow and somewhere. If you could only manage to get ahead of him and waylay him at some point in the mountains, it would be the best place for you to do the deed and conceal the commission of the act."
"Yes, if he should be alone."
"Which will most likely be the case, at least a portion of the time. But should no such opportunity occur, or should you fail to get beyond him on the way, you must watch for him in the city; follow him as closely as his shadow, and in some dark alley, or at some unseasonable hour, put him out of the way."
"Exactly."
"You understand that thismustbe done, do you?"
"If Lieutenant Duffel says so."
"Well, I do say so, most emphatically. I am more anxious than ever to have him settled, since this new phase of affairs has come up."
"I understand; but when are we to start?"
"Early in the morning. We will find out as soon as possible whether he started yesterday; then you must show yourselves for a little while, as was before determined; and as soon afterward as possible be off. Be sure to get on the right track, and don't lose it."
"Never fear on that head. We will follow him as the lion does his prey."
"Well, I leave the matter with you; see that you acquit yourself as a good soldier. Give Dick such instruction as may be needed.—Here he comes."
Dick rode up on the horse he had stolen, and they all immediately repaired to the swamp, where the scheme of villainy had been planned, in the middle of which the horse was concealed for the present, as they were unable to take him further then without incurring great risk of detection.
The next morning after mingling awhile with the indignant crowd of citizens, who were collected together on hearing of the theft, and pouring out invectives on the "villain of a thief" in no measured quantity, the two ruffians, Bill and Dick, set out on their errand of death? Learning that Hadley had started the previous afternoon, they followed after him on two of the fleetest horses in the possession of the clan.
It might be well enough to remark, that in those early days most of the traveling was done on foot or on horseback.
On the evening of the second day of their pursuit, Dick and Bill found themselvesin the immediate presence of their victim, they having reached the same inn at which he had already put up for the night. The meeting was unexpected to them, and at first they feared it might frustrate their designs; but as they had taken the precaution to throw off their usual habiliments and character, and to assume the dress and address of gentlemen, Hadley did not recognize them, though the impression fastened itself on his mind, that he must have seen them and heard their voices before, but where and when he could not remember.
The villains, from his musing manner, half suspected that he was trying to call to mind who they were, and one remarked to the other that they had better go out and see after their horses; but it was more for the purpose of consulting about the affair they had in hand than for the good of their beasts, that they wished to leave the house. When assured that they were beyond hearing distance, said Bill to Dick:
"Well, we have treed the game at any rate."
"Yes, but I don't see as it signifies much if we have, for we can't keep him treed, nor bring him down neither, in this place."
"But we know where he is, and that is something."
"I take it, it's but little. What can we do with him?"
"Why, we can get ahead of him and select our place for the next meeting, and then—"
"How do you know that? We can't tell which road he will take."
"We'll find out, though."
"How?"
"By asking him."
"And exciting his suspicions. Yes, a pretty way of doing, certain."
"Never do you mind; leave that to me; and if we don't know all we want to know by morning, you may call Bill Mitchel a fool; and the fellow won't suspect anything, either."
"Well, go ahead, but don't make a fool of yourself, nor spoil the job we have in hand, neither."
"I'll take care for that; only you be cautious, and don't say too much, and when you do speak, throw off your rough manners and talk and act like a gentleman. I am afraid you will forget yourself, and instead of being Mr. Richard, will act the part of ruffian Dick."
"Never do you fear; 'ruffian Dick' knows what he's about, and you'll see how handsomely he can act 'Mr. Richard' to-night."
"Very well."
With this understanding between them, they returned to the inn, which, by the way, was a very primitive establishment, not only in construction, but also in the character of the entertainment.
Bill worked his card so as to draw Hadley into conversation, and incidentally, but designedly, remarked that they (himself and his companion) had passed through C—— two days before.
"Indeed!" said Hadley; "I am well acquainted in C——. Did you hear any news there?"
"Well, no, not in C——, but a little way beyond the town a horse had been stolen the night previous, which caused considerable excitement in the neighborhood."
"How far beyond was it?"
"About five or six miles, I should think."
"Did you learn any of the particulars?"
"Why, yes, pretty much all of them, I think."
"I know pretty much everybody in that region, and it may be that it was some of my friends from whom the horse was stolen. What was the owner's name, if you heard it?"
"Mandeville, I think; yes, Mandeville."
"Mandeville! I know him well. Has he any idea who took the horse?"
"I think hesuspectssome one for the theft—a young man that had been in the neighborhood, but disappeared the same night of the theft, and no one knew where he had gone."
"In the neighborhood," repeated Hadley, musingly, as if thinking aloud. "It must have been the stranger; and yet I thought he was gone some time ago."
"I don't think it was a stranger; they told us his name, but I do not know whether I can call it to mind or not. Let me see, I think it was Hardy or Hartly, or some such name."
At this juncture, Dick caught Bill's eye, and gave him a look, as much as tosay: "What the d——l do you mean?—Are you going to excite his suspicions and send him back home to clear himself from imputation?" And Bill as plainly replied by looks: "Never do you mind. I'll fix it up right."
While these magnetic looks were exchanged between the murderous reprobates, Hadley was engaged in trying to think if there was anybody by either of the names mentioned in the vicinity where Mandeville lived, but he could remember no one. All at once the thought struck him that he himself might be the person accused, and the bare idea that suchmightbe the case sent the blood to his heart and a cold shudder through his frame.—He was pale as marble, for a moment, and the rascals saw it. Mastering his emotions, he inquired calmly:
"The name you heard wasn'tHadley, was it?"
"No, that wasn't it. I heard his name mentioned, but they said he had started for Philadelphia the day before the theft."
At this announcement, in spite of himself, Hadley drew a sigh of relief, and as he did so Bill gave Dick a knowing look. Hadley replied:
"Perhaps the name was Huntly?"
"That's it!" said Bill; "that's the name; I remember it now."
"I should hardly have thought him capable of such a crime."
"Just what the people said, exactly."
"And to take advantage of the sickness of Mandeville's daughter, at that; I can hardly believe it of him."
"You talk precisely as his neighbors talked."
"I do not believe he is guilty; no, I am sure he is not. There are others I would suspect a thousand times of such an act before I would him."
"Well, I am sure I can't tell as to that. But, to change the subject, may I be so bold as to inquire which way you are traveling?"
"Certainly, sir; I am on my way to Philadelphia."
"I was in hopes you were going the same way as ourselves; perhaps you are; we are bound for Wheeling, Virginia.—Do you go that way?"
"No, I go by way of Pittsburgh."
"Do you tarry long at Pittsburgh? We may have to go there before we return."
"No sir. My mother is very sick at her brother's house in Philadelphia, and I shall hasten to her with all dispatch."
"Then, I perceive, we shall have to part company."
"I am sorry for that, as I should be pleased to have companionship on my lonely journey."
Having found out all that concerned his purpose, Bill changed the conversation, and all of them being fatigued with hard riding throughout the day, the three soon retired for the night. Bill and Dick roomed together, and when alone the former said:
"Didn't I do it up about the right way, Dick?"
"Better than I expected; but, —— me, if I didn't think you'd got on the wrong track once."
"I knew what I was at all the time; but I saw you were scared."
"Well, what's to be done next?"
"We must get ahead of him, and do the thing up while he is crossing the mountains, as Lieutenant Duffel suggested, and as I told you before."
"We can do that easy enough; but what do you think; shan't we make Duffel side with us in the Duval affair for putting us to so much trouble?"
"Yes, and that is one reason why I wish to get through with this job as soon as possible. We must get back in time for the League meeting somehow."
"We'll have to ride like the d——l, then; for the meeting is on Friday night week."
"Well, we must be there if it is next Friday night, and we must finish our work before we go."
"I'm with you."
"And then, if Duffel don't assist us to fix Duval, or at least, if he don't let us have our own way in the matter, we will raise Hadley's ghost before his eyes, and threaten to 'blow' on him."
"He'll do it."
"He shall do it."
"Well, as that's settled, let's go to sleep."
"Yes, for we have a hard day's ride before us to-morrow."
The shades of evening were gathering over the rugged steeps and deep dells of the Alleghanies, as two horsemen, leaving the summit of the mountains, descendedto a deep, dark valley, shaded and environed by a dense growth of pine and other wood, on the eastern slope leading to the Atlantic. As they entered this dismal looking spot, one of them broke the silence by remarking:
"This is the place."
"Shall we rob him after he is dead?" inquired the other.
"Certainly. He has a pile about him; and it was for this I was trying, when he accused me of attempting to rob him, and resenting the accusation brought on the quarrel, and with it the insult. Yes, I must have his life and his money, too."
"I'm with you. But hold! What's that? Horses' feet, as I'm alive. He's coming; we must be quick to our place of concealment."
In the briefest possible time their horses led out of sight of the road, and hid away among the bushes, while the two murderers took their stand at the side of the road in ambush, to await the arrival of their victim.
They had only a few minutes to wait, when other two horsemen made their appearance, and took their stations exactly as they had done, but about a hundred yards further up the mountain.
"What the d——l does this mean?" inquired one of the other.
"I don't know, unless some others have an eye on the gold, as well as ourselves."
"That's it, I'll warrant. Good! They may do the murdering, and we'll rush up in time to secure the booty, by frightening them away. Then we can take the body to the next tavern, and tell how we came upon the robbers and murderers, just as they had finished their work.—Good! Let us get our horses nearer at hand, and be ready to dash upon them."
While the first two villains were preparing for the new phase the affair in which they were engaged had taken, as they supposed, the two who had arrived last busied themselves in making ready for some damnable work which required darkness and that secluded spot to hide it from the sight of man. We will look after them.
"Well, here we are at last," said Bill to Dick, for it was these that had arrived last. "How soon will he be here, think you?".
"In a few minutes. When I last saw him, I don't think he was to exceed half a mile behind us."
"He is coming now. Be sure of your aim."
"Better take that advice yourself."
"I intend to, for I don't want any botch work of the job."
"Think those men have got ahead far enough?"
"Yes, they were more than a mile ahead of us, and they will ride like Satan was after them through these wild glens."
"Yonder's Hadley!"
"Prepare! put your pistol close to his heart when you fire!"
"All right; do the same."
And the other two concealed villains were equally ready for action.
"There he comes!" said one. "Their attention will be taken up that way now: let us mount, and as soon as they fire, put spurs for the scene."
"Perhaps they will not use pistols," suggested the other.
"Then, as soon as they strike or spring upon him."
In a few seconds, Hadley came abreast of the villains who were lying in wait for him.
"Now!" said Bill in a hoarse whisper, and the two at once sprang upon the lone rider, and fired the contents of their pistols into his breast. He fell from his seat, with a deep groan. The murderers were about to rifle his pockets, when they were arrested in their work of robbery by the approach of the other two horsemen, and seeing their danger, hastened to mount, and left the scene of their bloody deed, at the top of their horses' speed. The others pursued for a mile or more, and then returned to look after the slain man and their booty.
"By heavens, it's not the man!" they exclaimed in a breath, as they knelt by the side of Hadley.
"As I live, it is our acquaintance of yesterday! Poor fellow, he deserved a better fate."
"He did, indeed. Let us return his kindness by seeing that he is decently buried; we owe him this much at least."
"So we do. If I had known it was him he should not have died in this way."
"Shall we go back or forward with him?"
"Forward; it is nearest that way to a hamlet."
"Does he breathe yet?"
"No; he is quite dead."
Gathering up the body of Hadley, they bore it along in silence toward the nearest habitations of men, some five miles ahead.
The two had proceeded with their burden but a short distance, when they were suddenly startled by a groan from the wounded man, who they had supposed was dead. They laid him down carefully, and one of them produced a flask, from which he poured a little brandy on his lips, and the stimulant penetrating his mouth, revived Hadley, and this, with the aid of other restoratives, soon brought him to consciousness. Seeing he was not dead, his companions now dressed his wounds as well as they could, under the circumstances. It was soon perceived that they were not of a very dangerous order. One bullet had struck a button and glanced off, leaving only a bruise on the breast; the other had penetrated the chest, but not in a fatal direction. The fall from his horse had stunned Hadley; there was also a mark on the side of his head, indicating that the horse had struck him with his foot, adding materially to the effect of the fall. After his wounds were properly dressed, he was assisted into his saddle, and, supported by his benefactors, was enabled to ride to the next village, where he received every attention, and was so far recovered in a week as to proceed on his journey. His escape was almost miraculous, and seemed a direct interposition of Providence. On the previous day he had assisted the two men out of a difficulty before a magistrate, where they were accused of the crime of setting fire to a man's house on the previous night. It so happened that they were not guilty of the act as charged, but had passed the night in question at the same inn with Hadley, who, fortunately for them, heard of the affair, and went before the magistrate and testified to the facts in the case, and by so doing cleared them. This kindness, volunteered on his part, was repaid by the men, as we have seen, though they were desperate characters, and ought to have been in the penitentiary, and, as we have noticed, went out to kill and rob some man at whom they had become offended.
Had not this train of circumstances led to the result we have chronicled, there would have been but one fate for Hadley,death; for even if the ruffians had left life in him, ere the lapse of three hours he would have been devoured by wild beasts, a pack of which, howling dismally, and thirsting for blood, crossed the road where he had lain, and licked up the few drops that had run from his bosom!
Bill and Dick were pursued, but escaped without the slightest clue to their whereabouts or identity being ascertained.
Perhaps we had as well remark, at this point, that Hadley's departure was known to but two personal friends and their families, in the Mandeville settlement, and by them was to be kept a secret, as he did not wish Duffel, or any of his supposed companions, to know of his absence until he had been gone long enough to reach his destination, for he believed Duffel was bad enough at heart to stop short of no wickedness to carry his ends, and felt fearful he might send some of his minions to waylay him. How nearly he guessed the truth! He, however, gave another reason for wishing the fact kept among his friends and though they thought a little singular of the request, they acted as desired.
Duffel overheard a part of the conversation between him and a young friend—hence his knowledge of Hadley's movements. Mandeville did not know anything about the matter until some time afterward, and this ignorance led him to suspect Hadley of the theft, as already recorded.
He and Duffel agreed to keep their suspicions to themselves, until they could get at some tangible evidence to prove Hadley guilty. This exactly suited Duffel's purpose, as it gave him just the time and advantage he desired, in order to perfect his own schemes.
How easily a few words would have exonerated Hadley in the eyes of Mandeville: and had he made a confidant of the magistrate in this second instance, those words would have been spoken, to his enlightenment, and the great relief and joy of his daughter. But, by an unfortunate combination of circumstances, the reverse was the case.