 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

<. 9%.: $3.1.du-‘-:B"'K’<F'9'TRY“EXI:-‘W ‘ “m:-

 

 

 

an

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
  
  
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
  
  
    
 
 
 
  
 
 
   
 
 
 
  
  
  
 
     
  
  
 
 
 
   
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
 
    
 
 
 
    
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
   
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
      
 
  
   
 
 
  
 
 
   
  
  
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
  
   
  
    
  
   
   
  
 
   
   
 
  
 
    
 
  
  
  
  
 
    
  
  
   
   
    
    
   
 
    
 
  
 
     
  
  
   
   
  
     
 
   
   
    
  
  
  
  
   
     
    
  
  
 
  
    
   
  
     
   
   
  
    

“ Wouldn’t you be willin’ to run your mare
’gainst one of our, ponies for your life?” I

“ Oh, J udea! abomination! distruction!”
groaned the Oracle, as if shocked by the idea.
“ Racin’ and gamblin’ comes not within the
pale of the principles of peace and love. It
belongs only to the ungodly—the unwashed.
sinner. Moreover, Patience, my hosslhere, is
suﬁerin’ dire afﬂictions on the right fore leg
from the bite of the treacherous serpent that
wears little bells onto its tail. Therefore 1
must decline to race with the heathens, and to
uphold them in their ungodliness.”

“ Then you shall die, although you have
your own life in your hands,” said Donald
Gray. “ If you will takefyour mare and run
her against one of our ponies, your life will be
spared if you come out best in the race.”

“Life are sweet, arter all,” reﬂected the Or-
acle, "' and I am sorely tempted to try you a
heat, and would, if it warn’t fur poor Patience‘
afﬂiction of the leg. As she is, she can only
hop along on three legs to a time. And yit I
wouldn’t hisitate to try one of yer slowest
racers if ye’d give me a few hundred yards the
adwantage.” ‘

The renegades, and those of the Indians who
understood English, indulged in a hearty ﬁt of
laughter. They saw that the love of life was
strong, even in a crazy man; and that freedom
was paramount to the principles he advc»
cated.

“You can have your choice, Oracle: run
the race or die.”

“ Oh, Judea!” sighed the man; “then if yer
sin-benighted minds can conceive no Christian
scheme for my deliverance outen bondage, I

' will stoop to the abominable sin of takin’ my

mare here, onto the track. But I have no
hopes of takin’ the ante, but race beca’se it’s a
Christian dooty for me to try to save my pre—
cious life, for the beneﬁt of others yit to come.
So let a heathen bring out a slow racer, and I
will run him, sinse I am forced to it; yet 1
proclaim in a. voice of thunder that it be an
abominable sin to put that poor critter thal-
onto the track. In course it be.”

 

CHAPTER III.
THE RACE AND ITS RESULT.

WHILE the preliminaries of the race were
being made by the Indians and their white co~
adjutors, the Oracle of Peace strode about the
camp, apparently indifferent to the arrange—
ments that were being made for the cruel
sport of which he and his mare were the unsus
pecting subjects. He passed and repassed be—
fore Jonathan Duncan, shaking his head and
muttering loud, but incoherently, now and
then glancing at the captive’s face with the
deepest expression of human sympathy.

“I sw’ar,” said Bill Davy, one of the rene»
gades, “I b’lieve the feller’s talkin’ Dutch to
the squire.” '

“Yes, hog Dutch,” replied Donald Gray.

The Oracle continued his sauntering about
the camp, but ﬁnally advanced *o where Hu~
mility was tied, and stooping, he patted the
dog affectionately upon the head, and said, i:
a. low, whimpering, childish tone: '

“Ah, me, Humility! this are a big blunder
fur us to make. The hearts of these red Phil-
listines appear to have no mercy, whatsum~
ever. So I reckon our time to part has come.
arter long years of sojournin’ together. 1
may, and I may not, win the race, but that
snake-bitten leg of Patience is again’ me, ten
to one. But if 'ye hev to die, Humility, die
game. Ye, maybe, go into the soup-kittle,
but if you make as good soup as ye hev com—
panion, these ’ere pesky heathens will ’ave a
delicious time. Look here, ole dorg; see what
an insigniﬁcant thing holds yer life in check——
a. little string which one sweep of my knife ’d
out.”

As he concluded with a shake of the head,

the crazy man took hold of the dog’s rope and r

held it up between his ﬁngers, and glanced at
the dog, then at the rope, with a vacant, list—
less stare. Humility looked up into his mas-
ter’s face, dumb almost as his own, with an
almost human apprehension; then he Whined
piteously, licked his chops as with an air of
satisfaction, and squatted down upon his
haunches.

One may have thought that there existed
the animal mode of communication between
these two creatures, dog and master; but,
aside from the latter’s power of speech, nei-
ther betrayed the knowledge even of an intel-
ligent animal.

“And lookey here, Humility, is another
victim of this heathenish country,” drawled
the tramp, advancing to Duncan and laying
his hand upon the captive’s head. “Poor fel—
ler, the Phillistines have got him, too, doggy,
and he’ll hev to die, I ’spekt. And jist look
here, Humility, what a insigniﬁcant thing
stands atween him and life and freedom,” and
he took hold of the captive’s bonds and ﬁnger-
ed over them some time in an easy, thought-
less manner; but the chief saw that he made
no attempt to free the captive.

“ All ready, Sir Oracle,” the chief at length
called out.

“ Amen,” was the grave, solemn response.

Then the tramp advanced to where his
mare was hitched, unfastened her and follow—
ed White Falcon and all but two of his war-
riors, who had been left to guard Duncan, to
the edge of the open plain.

With a critical eye he scanned the oppo—
nent’s horse, shook his head doubtfully, and
sighed, in a tone whose lugubriousness was in
consonance with that of his face:

“ Verily, Patience, the chances are against
us, a thousand to one. The red heathen’s
horse is keen of limb, young, supple, and free
of snake~bites. Our only chances lay in the
smoky Phillistine’shorse steppin’ into a mole—
hill and breakin’ of his neck. And while we
are certain of defeat, we are liable to run into
the mole—hole—hill ourselves. Lord, to be sure
we are!”

A savage outburst of laughter followed this
lamentation of the Oracle.

“ Verily, heathen with the smoky skin, the
day ’11 come, perchance, when the laff will be
shifted to the other side of thy facial openin’.”

The distance to be run was a quarter of a
mile. The ground Was stepped off by one of
the renegades and the racers escorted to the
starting point by several warriors on foot.
The Oracle led his mare to the place, and as
she hobbled along at times 011 three legs, the
Indians and renegades seemed transported
with merriment at sight of the doleful—looking
ﬁgure presented by both the master and the
beast.

With some difﬁculty, after suffering a severe
fall, the tramp succeeded in scrambling to the
back of his mare. He then turned the animal
facing the winning goal, and announced his
readiness to start, t

A deep silence now fell upon the plain, not—
withstanding the ridiculousness of the affair.

The ﬁring of a riﬂe by the renegade chief,
who was at the opposite end of the course,
was to be the signal to start. The Oracle sat
with his eyes ﬁxed upon the group at the other
side of the plain, burning with a strange, un-
natural luster. Suddenly he saw a' little cloud
of smoke puff out upon the air; then, as the

 

 

0
clear report of the riﬂe came quivering forth
upon the breeze, the Oracle was heard to shout
aloud, in a clear, unnatural voice, the single
word: ”

(t  1”

Quick as a ﬂash Patience’s eyes, ﬂew open,
her head was lifted, her ears became erect,
her form straightened out, and like an arrow
she shot away over the plain by the side of hrr
opponent. All her stupidity, stiffness and
lameness had vanished under the magic of her
master’s voice.

Yell after yell arose from the lips of the
spectators, that was answered by a wild, fren»
zied shout from the lips of the Oracle, who sat
half doubled upon his beast, while his coat—
tail ﬂapped in the wind behind, and his hat-
brim dropped like a mask over his face To
the amusement of those at the starting point,
the great “military” boot of the tramp slip—
ped from his feet at the second bound of his
mare, but he gave no heed to this, and sped
on.
The yells of the savages increased as the
racers sped on, but their yells were outbursts
of surprise, not the expression of the amuse-
ment that they had anticipated; for, side by
side with the Indian racer, sped Patience, the
face of her rider changing from its look of im-
becility to that of silent triumph.

“This beats you, now don’t it, smoky-skin?”
the Oracle suddenly called out to his opponent
in a tone that was distinctly audible above the
swish and thud of the horses’ feet through the
grass and upon the hard earth.

‘ ‘ Ugh!” was the response of the Indian, who,
with eyes starting with excitement, laid the
whip vigorously across his beast. _

“That’s it, Ingin, score it on,” continued the
Oracle, growing warm under the excitement of
the race; “ alers whip on the hairy side, smoky.
Ole Patience, my mare here, wa’n’t as lame as
ye thought, war she? Like all females, she’s
deceivin’, ain’t she? She can’t be beat on these
pra’ries a—runnin’ and playin’ ’possum, can she?
Whew! aren’t we a—sailin’, though, now? I
could jockey you now, Ingin, like thundera—
tion; but I won’t, will I? But I’ll tell ye what
I can do: I can beat you, and I’m gorin’ to do
it. So now, ole gale, toe into it—buckle right
down to the work, Patience—peg away, ole

' critter—scatter dirt in smoky’s eyes—lick her

down, Pacie—scat! whoop, hurrah, here we go
——-good-by, smoky!”

Away from the side of the Indian, like a bird
on the wing, glided the mare with her rider.
The spectators were astounded. Donald Gray
began cursing with i'mpetuous rage. He dis-
covered his mistake when too late. He and his
men had been duped. The cunning old tramp
and his trained mare had played their parts
well.

As he saw the Oracle turn from the track
and sweep away like the Wind across the plain,
White Falcon’s rage knew no bounds. He fair—
ly fumed, cursed his own stupidity and that of
his men, calling the wrath of heaven upon
them.

Like a madman he tore away toward the

camp to procure his own beast, an animal of
remarkable speed, to start in pursuit of the cun»
ning old tramp. But when he reached the
camp, what was his astonishment to' ﬁnd that
his animal was gone!

He turned to make inquiry regarding it, of
Duncan’s two guards. They were not there,
and, to add to his fury and astonishment, he
discovered that both Jonathan Duncan and the
dog Humility were gone.

A glance at the straps With which the dog
had been tied showed the imprint of teeth upon
it. This led to the discovery that it had been
gnawed in two. Further investigation showed
that Duncan’s bonds had also been severed by
the dog’s teeth,

Then the chief could account for the absence
of his horse: Duncan had escaped upon it. In
this he was right; although two guards had
been left with the captive while the others went
to attend the race, their curiosity got the bet—
ter of their sense of duty, and the moment they
heard the yells and shouts of their friends, they
deserted their post and ran to the edge of the
plain where they could see what was going
on.

This proved even more fortunate than the
tramp had hoped for; it left the coast clear for
the dog to act its part. And no sooner did the
sagacious animal hear his master’s voice shout-
ing in triumph, out upon the plain, than he
applied his teeth to his bond, and in a moment
snapped it in two. Then, still remembering
the silent demands of his master, he sprung for—
ward and gnawed Duncan’s thongs off his
wrists.

The captive could scarcely realize what had
transpired—that an animal could possibly have
so much human understanding, and before he
was cognizant of the fact, Humility was gone.

Realizing that he was free, Duncan knew
that not a moment was to be lost in putting
distance between himself and the red—skins, and
selecting a ﬂeet—looking stud from among the
Indians’ ponies, he mounted it and ﬂed. He
shaped his course along the river until a. point
of timber jutting out into the plain would con-
ceal him from view of the savages; then he
turned into the open prairie and sped away up
the Keya Paha on the trail of the Oracle and
his dog. _

He rode rapidly forward for nearly an hour.
No sign of pursuers could be seen. At length
he turned into the woods again, and halted to
rest his jaded beast and take his bearings for
a point of safety.

A voice hailed him.

“I say, stranger,” it said, “ you made yer
’scape, did ye? Things all worked like clock-
wheels, didn’t it though?” '

It was the voice of the oracle, who at this
juncture rode up. Humility was following in
his accustomed place at Patience’s heels.

“ Thank Heaven, my dear sir,” Jonathan
Duncan exclaimed, in a tone full of gratitude
and joy; “you are the most original piece of
human deception I ever met. I never saw a
more perfect specimen of imbecility than you
were outside of an insane asylum. You have
saved my life, stranger, and in a manner that
seems miraculous.”

“Then Humility, my dorg thar, did his werk '

up skienﬂintically, did he? Done jist as I
hinted to him, did he? He didn’t act awkward
’bout it, did he? By J udea! it was a good
thing we both had a smattern of 10W Dutch,
wa’n’t it? I told ye I’d git ye outen thar, did—
n’t I? That renegade pretty nigh took the
hint when I war mutterin’ to you. The red
devils had you purty. tight tho’; and it‘s well
I see’d ’em chasin’ ye across the plain. I see’d
ye war ’bout blowed, and knowed they’d rake
ye in down at the river, and when I heard ’em
screechin’ I knowed ye were raked, and I jist
slipped down the river, and seein’ you war in

- for a fry, I concluded to come foolly on ’em.

Good thing I had ’em ole close handy—played
the oraclewell, didn’t I? But I sw’ar I came
mortal nigh rippin’ out an ole-fashi’n cuss-word
several times. Oriental langwide! ha! ha!—
that’s good on the chief, ar’n’t it? But. I’ll
tell ye, stranger, Patience, my mare here, and
Humility, my dorg thar, are two the best-
trained animils outside of Barnum’s big s? o .v

 

 

—good as ever boxed s33, or squizzed the jugu—
lar of a red—skin. Why, Patience, my mare
here, is the ﬂeetest critter in all Dakota, and
I’ll bet my scalp on her every clip. See, she
gits herself better’n she did, don’t she? Hu-
mility, my dorg thar, has a thunderin’ site of
man—gumpsliun ’bout him, ar’n’t he?——say,
what be your name, stranger?”

“Jonathan Duncan. May I ask the‘same of
you?” replied Duncan.

“ To be sure, Jonathan; speak right out.
You see, I’m a stranger in these diggin’s, my-
self. I’ve jist come down from the nor’-west
to this kentry. ,But up thar, J onathan—away
up in the northern part of this territory, I war
familiarly called Dakota Dan, the Ranger; and
I swear to the stars, Jonathan, Patience, my
mare here, and Humility, my, dorg thar, are
three jolly sailors. Yes, I’m Dakota Dan,
and proud I be of the name and the man too,
Jonathan. Here, yer hand. Shake to eternal
friendship.”

(To be continued.)

A The Beautiful Sphinx:

THE MAN-SPIDER 0F WIRTHMOOR,
AITALE 0F EARLY ST. LOUIS.

BY A. P. MORRIS, JR,

 

 

AUTHOR or “STEALING A HEART,” “HER-
CULES, THE BUNCHBACK,” “PEARL or
PEARLS,” “THE SILVER SERPENT,”

ETC., ETC. , mo.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
AN ASTOUNDING REVELATION.

JEAN BANQUO smiled grimly as he pro-
nounced the identity of his visitor, and the
serpentine stick revolved more rapidly in his
yellow hand.

She threw aside her vail with a gesture‘of
surprise.

“ Since you so easily discovered who I am,

perhaps you can tell me what brought me here, i

Jean Banquo?” ‘ ' ‘
“ That is not diﬂicult,” answered the gnome,

, his little eyes twinkling. “ Be seated nigh me,

and we will talk about it.”
~ He motioned her to a high hassock beside
his divan, and continued, when she was seated:

“I have read of your coming, in the stars,
Francoise Ellory. Your visit to me is one oi
inquiry—yqu are worried, too.”

“Cease your mummeries, Jean Banquo; ‘1
do nz t believe in your professions. But—~yes,
I am here to make certain inquiries.”

“ So,” pursued the astrologer, nodding.
“ And you wish to know something of a close:
hidden in the house where you now live, and
which, you suppose, contains important secrets
connected with your deceased father—”

“ Ah! by what sorcery—J’

“ Oh, I know—I am fully aware of the cause
of your coming.”

“ Pah! it is a mere inference,” exclaimed
the beautiful blonde, impatiently; “you sent
this letter to my uncle ”—-and here she pro
duced the note from the astrologerto the bank
or. “ It is in reference to a secret closet in the
house that is my home. Azrak, my uncle’s
man, came to you last night and secured the
instructions it promises. They opened the

.closet, and were confronted by a fearful shape

that frightened my uncle out of his senses——”

"‘ How happened you to be so well posted?”
interrupted Banquo.

“Through my maid, who is devoted to me,”
replied Francoise, promptly and stem.

“ And you followed your uncle to the pan-
eled room?”

“ They had no right to conceal from me the
secrets of my father. My maid, Viola, also
followed them after I withdrew—”

“ After you fainted and was carried to your
room,” corrected the gnome, impressively.

Francoise looked at him amazed.

“How did you ﬁnd that out?” she dwand—
ed, in a. quick breath.

“Proceed, Francoise Ellory. Presently we
will get at your exact business here. Remem~
ber, J can Banquo, the astrologer, knows more
than some people dream of, or would wish him
to know. For every soul on earth there is a
star in the skies; every star has a page upon
its face that only men like me may read.
Stars and souls are the two unsolved problems
of the universe—the ﬁrst a record of some hu-
man fate, the second a kaleidoscope of thought,
governed by the same unseen power that holds
each constellation above its subject among the
dust, the bloom, or the light, or the dark of
Nature. Go on, Ftaacoise Ellery,”

“My maid,” said Francoise, who was mute
during the brief, singular speech of the gnome,
“has not been seen since she left me to com—
plete what I had not the strength to continue.
She has disappeared. I fear some injury has
befallen her.” .

“ Probably,” hinted the astrologer, meaning-
ly. “ If she dogged the doings of Hubert
Ulster, and was caught, he is the man to silence
her tongue forever, and by a deed as foul as
human brain can conceive.”

“Explain yourself, Jean Banquo. What
makes you denounce my uncle as a bad man?”
She asked this in a slow but eager way, and
gazed sharply into the gnome’s little, gleaming
eyes.

“ Wait. Your business; then I will speak.”

“ This afternoon,” Francoise resumed, “ when
my uncle and Azrak went out, I ascended to
the paneled room. The door was locked; but
I looked through the keyhole, and saw, on the
opposite wall, one of the panels hanging out
ward—at the spot where the dreadful object
appeared in the closet. But the wall was still
solid with another panel, and on it was a sheet
of paper bearing the words: ‘If you enter, you
die 1’ By the fact of this warning being there,
and as the door was locked, I judge that my
uncle has not yet entered the closet for the ac-
complishment of his purpose, whatever that
purpose may be. Now, ﬁrst: what has become
of my maid, Viola? if you are sorcerer enough
to imagine. Second: what is there in the
closet, which my uncle is desirous of keeping
from me, and which you, very strangely, seem
to be the only person cognizant of?—-and by
what means can I gain access to it? Finally,
what, or who, was that ugly ﬁend in the wall,
that so terriﬁed my uncle?———for he shrieked
aloud, and became insensible—what is there
between it and him that it should so affect
him? . I heard him cry: ‘ The Spider! The
Spider!’ Answer me these questions, Jean
Banquo.”

The gnome smiled again. There was a vin—
dictive glitter in his eyes now, and the wreath—
ing of his lips was like that of a snake’s fangs,

betraying the anger and conﬂict of pestering

thOughts.

“ Francoise Ellory,” he said, and there was
a harsh strain in his tone, “ two of your ques-
tions I will answer—the third, or ﬁrst one, I
cannot.” The serpent stick went round still
faster in his hand; his eyes seemed changing
hues, melting, ﬁring, expanding, like orbs of
red hot iron alternating their glow in the heat

 

 

and cold of rising, half—pent passion. He was
striving hard to control himself. “ Hubert
Ulster your uncle, as the world calls him—is
a' base wretch to his heart’s core—— Wait!
Keep your seat ”-—-for Francoise, alarmed by
his sudden vehemence, his hissing syllables, his
blazing eyes, had started back—“ you need not
fear me; Jean Banquo bears you no ill-will.
Hubert Ulster found out, by some means un—
known to me, that Eli Ellery had a secret
closet in his house, where he stowed several
thousand dollars in bright, ringing coin. It is
that he seeks, and it is that he would rob you
of. I have spied in his house when he slept; I
have, more than once, held a dagger at his
throat when he dreamed dark dreams in the
hour of midnight—”

“Terrible man !_":For what?” gasped Fran—
coise. .

“For my revenge—~but it was not to come
in that way. I chanced upon the paneled room
while skulking in the upper story, and I chanced
again on a small plug in the ﬂoor, near the
door, underneath which I found a wire. By
pulling on this wire I next discovered the
closet. But, I have destroyed that spring.
There is now only one way to enter the closet,
and that by swinging out the mantelpiece in
the next room which will give access at the
side of the closet.’ There is a vase sitting on
the mantelpiece that has been allowed to re-
main there ever since Eli Ellery died. Turn
this vase round twice, and the wall will open.
The chimney-hole above the mantelpiece does
not open into a ﬁne, but is a. ventilator to the
hidden closet.”

“ A-h!” Francoise exclaimed, as if her mem—
ory just then recalled an item of the past,
“how well I remember; the room of 'which
you speak was never occupied while my father
was alive; and I often wondered, when I was
a child, why he insisted that the old vase
should remain and be untouched on the mantel-
piece. This then was its mystery.”

“I overheard your uncl and his tool, Azrak,
speaking of the closet,” Beanquo continued, in
his rapid accents. “I learned that they had
been searching for it for nearly nine years. It
has been in my power to gain possession of the
money—for I have seen it in its leathern, tight
tied bags—but Jean Banquo is not a. thief.
When I sent that note to Hubert Ulster yes~
terday”—and here the ﬂame of his eyes, the
heaving of his breast, the hot breath of his
words grew deeper and direr—“ I wanted him
to come. I had laid a trap for his death ! stayf
—-I say you need not fear me.” Francoise had
arisen and stepped backward, awed, and now
dreading the harsh-voiced, ﬁery—eyed, terrible—
spoken dwarf.

“ You ask who or what the hideous shape
was that you, that he and this man saw in the
wall? First, letme tell you that Hubert Uls-
ter is not your uncle—”

“Jean Banquo!” !,

“ There is not one drop of blood in his family
that ever ran in yours! He is an impostor.
To serve his own purposes, he has proclaimed
the relationship. Nearly ten years ago he came
to St. Louis, and after a brief business acquaint-
ance became one of the directors of the Mer-
chants’ Bank. When Eli Ellory died, Ulster
succeeded to his position as president of the
bank. Your father and he were intimate—
that was all. Eli Ellery did not know that he
was conﬁding his little daughter—then not
more than ten years old—to the guardianship
of a black-hearted‘villain, a hypocrite, an assas-
sin! Hubert Ulster is no less! Remember
this; I reveal it for your welfare. I know Hu~
bert Ulster. I know him too well—and, oh!
how I hate—J hate him!”

The astrologer was quivering from head to
foot. His long beard shook like a. spray of
thistledown in a ﬁerce blast, and his hands
trembled till the end of the long wand rattled
on the ﬂoor. Under the wash that hitherto
softened his complexion, he was red and fairly
purple, and his teeth ground out every word
like stony corn-grains crushed between the
jaws of a horse. A hatred deadly, ungovern-
able and frightful,.seethed in his dwarﬁsh form,
burning to the center of his soul, and, for the
moment, rendering him speechless.

Francoise was riveted. His outburst chain—
ed her in shudders. She could but return the
unvarying gaze of those ﬂaming, unearthly
eyes, horribly enchanted by them, and held in
a clammy spell.

“You want to know what the shape was?”
he gibbered, his voice, like his frame, shaking
and passion—strung. “You heard your uncle
call it ‘The Spider!’ It is a thing he has cause
to shrink from—yet it is human. That ‘Spi—
der’ is a man—a man with a heart of feeling,
that loved, that was once tender and aﬁec
tionate, a heart turned to a boiling furnace of
rage and vengeance by Hubert Ulster!”

 

 

CHAPTER IX.
A SHOT FROM THE DOORWAY.

THE banker and the African had ascended
to the cupolabbservatory on the roof above
the art gallery.

They had come to seek Jean Banquo in pur-
suance with the resolve of Ulster, who meant
to purchase his advice before forcing open the
wall in the paneled room, in deﬁance of the
warning they saw there.

They had been but a few minutes in the ob—
servatory—and Hubert Ulster was poking
about among the singular instruments strewn
there-when Azrak said:

“A word, Master Hubert: listen to me.”

“Eh? What is it? See this, Azrak—and
this—” tapping here and there with his cane.
“ The furniture of this place suggests that Jean
Banquo may be a practical astronomer, as well
as fortune~teller.”

But Azrak was paying no attention to the
various objects surrounding them. He was
very sober, and his dark eyes were of a.
thoughtful glance.

“ I have seen what you did not,” he pur-
sued. “I have made a discovery, Master
Hubert.”

“ Oh, you’ve made a discovery! Well, what
is it?” continuing his examination of the dis—
ordered instruments.

“ I know how to reach the den of the astrolo-
ger, without the aid of a guide.”

Theeffect of the speech was electrical.

“Ha! Azrak!”—-Ulster spoke quickly, and
grasped him by the arm. “ What’s that you
say? Tell me What you have seen?”

“When the disguised woman, Girasa, went
into the alcove, she'was too hasty in her desire
to escape us. She did not draw the curtains
tight enough. As we ascended these stairs, I
looked back, and saW—”

“ You saw—what did you see, Azrak?”

“ Through a narrow space in the curtains, I
saw her swing'out the great picture against
the wall, and disappear beyond it.”

“ Ho! you did? What then! Ah! that is
the way to the den of J can Banquo. I see.”

Azrak nodded wisely.

Ulster nervously stroked his chin for some
seconds, gazing down at the ferule of his cane
on the ﬂoor. When he looked up, there was a
snap in his eyes and a keenness to his voice.

“ Azrak,” he said, in a rapid tone, “why
could we not ﬁnd out something of this char-

latan? Since you know the way to reach him
——by Jupiter! we may get at some of his so-
crets, view him in his solitary trickeries; for
he is a man of secrets, beyond question.”

Azrak inclined his head a second time.

“We may learn, too, who this woman is,
disguised as a negress and in the service of the
astrologer. I’ll swear that I have met her be—
fore, when she wore a white face.” «,

“ We will be wary, Master Hubert, and pry
into the stronghold and doings of Jean Banquo,
for the beneﬁt of a community deluded by his
impositions. ”

“ Yes; that is it, Azrak. If we are caught,
we are two strong men, and can ﬁght our way
out despite any sorceries he may practice upon
us. ' Good. It is settled. We will I unmask
this abominable Wizard 2—— How dark it
grows!” .

“ The sun has gone down, Master Hubert.
See: is not that a grand prospect?”——waving
his hand eastward toward the rolling Missis‘
sippi, to the south over the chimneyed city, to
the west, where lay the open country, its hori-
zon redolent as gilded lava with the gorgeous
hues of sunset.

“ Very ﬁne. But how can we manage in the
dark?”

“ We shall have another light here, pretty
scorn—more than we wan .”

“ What do you mean?”

“ The beacon of the astrologer.”

“ His beacon?” repeated Ulster, inquiringly.

“Every night, at the time of his reception
of visitors, this cupola is illuminated, and can
be seen at a great distance in all directions.”

“ A lighthouse!” Ulster exclaimed. “ What
was that, Azrak?”

“The astrologer’s bell,” replied the African,
listening. “ Girasa is dismissing the people
in the gallery. Look over here, and you may
see them depart ”-—-stepping to the front rail

‘of the platform, which was directly at the

eaves, where, by glancing downward, a full
view of the street was plain. .

Ulster and the mulatto watched the throng
passing out. In the increasing dusk of evening
they could not be seen, at that hight, by those
on the pavement, and possibly not by parties
in the opposite building.

It was Ulster’s intention to remain there till
all had gone, and Girasa was off her guard,
when they could proceed with their plot to
ferret into the privacy of the astrologer—«a.
dangerous plot, for they had yet to learn the
ways and traps and means of defense at the
command of J can Banquo.

“ Banquo has an early visitor to—night,” said
Azrak, who observed the cab that came furi-
ously algng the street and drove up to the
door.

“Yes. Quiet, now,” admonished the ban—
ker, withdrawing from the edge and listening.

They stood like carved specters in the gloom
-—waiting.

Suddenly Hubert Ulster staggered back and
clapped his hands to his eyes. There was a.
peculiar, hissing, crackling noise in the air
around them; tiny sparks seemed dancing here
and there, like shooting stars; in another se-
cond, the burners of artiﬁcial gas-lamps, ar—
ranged in a. semi-circular row breast—high,
ﬂashed forth a brilliant, blazing glare that
nearly blinded the banker and the African,
and startled them by its intensity.

The illumination was caused by the action
of Girasa when she entered the closet contain-

 

ing the coated jars in the saloon below. The
means by which she lighted the reﬂector-burn-
ers in the cupola, instantaneously and from
such a distance, was a mode afterward brought
into extensive application by Prof. Pepper, of
the London Polytechnic Institute.

“ Hush!” whispered Azrak, grasping his em-
ployer by the arm. “ Step back—«quick, or
we will be disc0vered. Look.” He pointed to
the house opposite, where their two shadows,
colossally deﬁned, showed upon the wall.

“ Let us descend, Master Hubert. All is si-
lent below.”

And at the moment Girasa led Francoise Elv
lory from the gallery through the door behind
the picture in the alcove, Azrak was looking
from the interstice of the curtains that draped
the narrow stairway leading to the cupola.

“ Now is our time,” said the African.

“ Go ahead,” and he followed Azrak, who
was gliding swiftly toward the alcove.

“Haste, before she starts to return,” the Af-
rican urged, as they began descending the stairs
in the room beyond the picture.

Reaching the second room, they paused, hes-
itating.

“ I thought I heard a step,” muttered Azrak,
bending his head.

“ Curse it!” snarled the banker, nervously,
while he drew a pistol from his pocket and knit
his shaggy brows in a. dark scowl. “ You
must be mistaken. I heard nothing. But, if
she detects us, I’ll awe her to silence with this
—” and he cocked the weapon with savage de—
termination. “Which way now, Azrak?”

“ Yonder,” pointing to the second hole in the
ﬂoor.

Passing down the next ﬂight they found
themselves in the cellar. There was no lamp
here—a Stygian darkness prevailed, only re-
lieved by a faint glimmer from the trap above,
and from the entrance to the corridor below.

“ What devilish twisted place have we ven-
tured into?” Ulster mumbled, pettishly. “We
shall break our shins, or our necks, perhaps,
directly!” ‘

“Hist!” warned the mulatto, dragging him
backward into the impenetrable surrounding.
“She is coming. Take care.”

Girasa was ascending the stone staircase.
They could scarce distinguish her against so
faint a. background; but they heard and listen-
ed to her footfalls until the sound died out.

When assured that she was gone, they pro-
ceeded—ﬁrst removing their boots, and leaving
them where they could be found.

Then down the stone staircase, between the
walls of masonry—tiptoeing, crouching, now

v pausing, now advancing a few paces—like bur-

glars they went; and while the banker held his
pistol ready for a shot, Azrak gripped the
stout cane in a hand of iron.

Unintentionally, Banquo had not entirely
closed the door after the departure of Girasa,
nor did he perceive the dark ﬁngers on the sur—
face of the door, forcing it slowly ajar, nor
was he aware of the two faces—one white and
the other black—that peered in at him as he
talked with Francoise Ellory. For at the in-
stant Ulster and Azrak gained a view of the
interior and its occupants, the gnome was ab—
sorbed by his terrrible frenzy, his outburst of
denunciative rage, and did not dream that the
very object of his fearful hate was within ear—
shot and sight of him.

And they were just in time to hear Fran—
coise ask, breathless and brokenly:

“What has my uncle ever done to you, Jean
Banquo?”

“ He is not your uncle, I tell you! You
may thank Heaven that the accurSed blood of
his veins never ﬂowed with yours—”

“What has he dene to you?” she repeated,
interrupting, though she spoke mechanically.

“ Enough to drive me mad!” cried the astrol-

 

Oger, writhing more’and more. “ He killed

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

l!