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Publication Office.
98 William St. New York.

PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY.

Copyrighted I894.
By Beadle and Adams.

No. 598

 

 

BY EBaN E. anxronn.
Come stand with me and see the sunset die
_ Beyond the sea’s gray line.
This is the last time, dear. your hand will lie
So trustingly in mine.
Oh, dlife’s last times! W hat could be sadder,
ear.
Than last words, such as ours?
The dream was sweet, and now the end is here—
Frost blights the summer flowers.

I love you, dear, and in your eyes I see
An answering love to-night.

You cannot, if you would, dear, hide from me
The heart that was so light,

But, oh! so heavy now with tears unshed—
So grieved with coming loss.

How many hearts, whose happiness has fled,
Bear Silently their cross?

Oh, 10ve, I clasp you to my heart again!
I cannot let you go!

Is love not stron er than our fear of men?
And she] they part us so?

Forgive me, dear, for I did quite forget
You are your father s child,

And if he wills, you must obey, and yet
Can love be reconciled—

Can love submit, dear heart, to stern decrees-—

Can duty seem so clear
, That we bow meekly to such words as these

Which part our pathways here?

Perhaps his love is tenderer than mine,
And it is best to part.

But, oh! if we that one sweet hope resign,
We desolate the heart!

To part forever! Can it, shall it be?
My heart cries out at fate!

Love, did you stoop so when you came to me
And found your heart a mate?

Your father says I am of low degree;
Your station is above.

The little glow-worm at my feet may see
The star, but may not love.

Oh, love, how can I say to you, “ Good-by,”
And go my way alone?
’Tis not so hard to see our dear ones die,
For they are still our own.
Our own? Oh. darling, is it not the same
With us, although apart?
. You cannot mate with me, nor bear my name,
Yet always bear my heart!
I. ‘ The ht dies out along the western
‘ ' ‘ n3 The'vforld seems strangely oId?’
80 love dies out of life, and by and by
I shall grow stern and cold.
But, hidden from the sight of curious eyes,
' My love for you shall last,
As the red sun moves on in unseen skies,
Or here, when clouds o'ercast.

Oh, love, how drear the future seems to be
With thways wide apart!

One in the va ey, gray with gloom for me
And my poor, lonesome heart.

Your feet will climb the shining hills above,
But I shall always know

Your heart leans downward, warm with faithful

ove,

To him who loves you so.

Chris Crewley’s = -
- 2 Winning Hand;

The Rascally Valet's Double Game.

A Story of Detective Life in Washington.
BY A. P. MORRIS, JR.

CHAPTER III.
THE UGLY CONFERENCE.

A—more of mystery—
The solemn hour
Of morning’s night
Saw foes convened in power;
To plot the blow of rival’s hateful guile—
To rob a lover of a lover’s smile.
—A. P. M., JR.

As Herwin Reesc spoke, the hag’s manner
altered, somewhat, to a blunt welcome.

He brushed past her, and, without wait-
ing until she had closed the door, continued
on to a room beyond, where he threw him-
self into a chair.

The apartment wore an aspect of comfort
and luxury combined, with every conceiv-
able appurtenance to the furniture of a thor-
oughly arranged bedchamber,

It was the sleepingroom of Meg Sem-

er.

p When she had rebolted, relocked and
barred the door, she joined him.

“ Ha!” she cried, striding up to him, and
bending down to peer closely into his face;
“what brings you here now? Do you know
it’s long after midnight? You’re gloomy,
too. You won’t speak. Tell me what’s
wrong? Hey?” and her voice, at first loud,
harsh, chattering, settled to a low hiss of in-
quiry.

“ hat’s the matter, I say? And you
came in bareheaded! Devils! speak out.”

“ I am driven to madness!" suddenly cried
the valet, with such vehemence that Meg
Sempcr started back from her stooping pos-
ture.

“IIeigho!”——distending her eyes, and
throwing her brows into the shape of_ an
inverted triangle—“you're mad, ch? 50—-
you look like it. Now, what are you mad
about?"

Reese began pacing the room.

“Everything!” he muttered, between his
grinding teeth.

“ Oho! ‘everything ’ is a good deal.

. Now, sit down. \Vhat is it?"
He resumed his seat, and said, more calm-

y:
“ Nemil delivered the letter to-day—”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Trembling with agitation he read the epistle.

“He did!  did! Yes—and I’ve got

the money? :
4' “Father and son have had a quarrel, in ‘

consequence—3’

“Good! Ha! h—a! That’s what we
, Reginald has kicked him out for ’t.”

“Mervin Darnley, it seems, has learned.
much of his son’s recent habits, and the,
letter was as a lighted match to the maga-'

want.”

zine. I was called in tonight to give testi-
mony.”

“ That’s good, too! \Vell?”

“ Of course I told all I knew.”

His eyes glittered venomously, and Meg
Semper chuckled lowly.

“But,” he added, “the culmination of the
aflair is, I’ve been discharged.”

“Eh? That’s bad," she commented,
frowning.

“ More—I was kicked from the house "

“ \Vhat!" yelled Meg Semper, the frown
upon her wrinkled forehead deepening to a
scowl. -

“Ay, with a kick and a blow I was
knocked from the steps to the middle of the
street. O—h! curses! curses!” and his
hands clinched till the nails sunk in the
flesh.

“ Who did it? Who did it?” hissed,
cried, snarled the hag, her eyes snapping
fiercely, and her features distorting with ex-
citement.

“Reginald Darnley—curse him!”

“Reginald Darnley!” she fairly howled;
“ and he did it ?——he kicked you? By Satan!
—and I had him at my knife~point only this
night!”

“ What do you mean ‘2”

“He was here—came to see Orle. I
would have killed him then; but the Talis-
man saved his 1ife, as it has done twice be-
fore. I’m mad with thinking of the ’curst
thing.”

“ Orle used it ‘2"

“ Yes. Who else? ' But there’s only three
left now—onlythrec! \Vhen they‘re gone,
too, nothing can prevent me keeping my
oath! And I’ll keep it sooner, unless she
watches me close! I will.”

“I think it’s better to follow my plan,
Meg,” he said, studyingly.

“But it may take too long—that’s all.
Devils a-loose! my oath was to kill him. If
you want to do it your way, then keep him
out of my sight. I can’t think of anything
but killing him, when I see him!”

Her mouth twitched nervously, her eyes
were ablaze with a demon look.

“ Don’t work yourself into a frenzy.”

“I can’t help it. I‘ll have his life—I will!
—it's my oath—”

“Not if I can prevent it!” interrupted a
voice.

Orle Deice stood in the doorway.

“Thought you’d gone to bed!” screamed
the bag in surprise.

“ I heard a knock,” said Orle, advancing,
“and was curious to know who it could be.
Besides. you are talking in a voice to rouse
the dead. It is fortunate that this house
stands alone, and again fortunate that the
walls are thick—or you would have some
one searching out the cause of such disturb~
ancc What brings you here, Herwin
Reesc?”

“ Orle—"

His eyes were fixed upon her in a passion-
ate gaze; his mien softened.

“Tell me what brings you here?" she re-
peated. as he hesitated while studying her
charms.

“I am discharged.”

“ Discharged ‘2"

“ Yes, Orle; and have been kicked from the
house of the Darnleys.”

“Kicked! What for?”

 

“BecauSe—” _ r 7 o 7

A quick,.warning glance from Meg Sem-
per checked him, and the bag spoke.

“Yes, Orle Deice, Herwin had to tell of
your lover‘s bad habits~that’s all. And

Here she burst into a loud, sepulchral
laugh, but added, immediately:

“And, Herwin, her lover, ’8 give her the
mit! He‘s left her! Ila! h—a! There’s a
row now. She hates him some. I guess.
“'hat are you going to do, Orle Deice-—”

“ No, Meg Semper, I do not hate him. I
Still love him. He is still mine. But, stop
this. You ask me what I shall do. It is
partly that question which brings me here.
You say Nemil is in bed?”

“ Nemil? Yes—obstinate tiger! he wouldn’t
stop to take his wine, he was so tired when
he came in.’

“ \Vake him up.”

“H0! \Vake him up? But you'll have
him mad!”

“No matter. I must see him at once,while
my bosom is warm with hate for this girl—
Cecilia Bernard!” '

“ Well, if you want him—now, devils alive!
what can you want him for ‘2”

“ To assist in striking a blow at Reginald
Darnley,” answered the beauty. using this
as an impetus to the hag’s movements.

It was sufficient. Meg Semper hurried
from the room.

“ Orle.”

Herwin Reese uttered the word in his gen~
tlest tone when they were alone.

“\Vell?" tossing her head with a half-
imperious gesture and flashing an impa-
tient look upon him from those deep, dark
e cs.
yFor a few seconds he gazed at her in
silence.

“ Orle, why do you love Reginald Darnley
so?” he asked.

“Why do I love him? That's a strange
question, Herwin Reese.”

“ Yet it is natural. You once loved me.”

An expression, part scorn, part contempt,
dwelt for a moment in her beautiful face.

“True, I did,” with a slight shudder; but
she added, without pause: “I did not know
your miserable nature then. \Vhen a wo-
man loves, she seeks for golden attributes
in the object of her affection. You have
none.”

" And is Reginald Darnley perfect?”

“Far from it; but the veins of gold in his
character are numerous as the dross in yours
—and the latter is great.”

He winced under this.

“And has all your love for me died out?”

“ All,” emphatically.

“Orle Deice, why permit this change?
You once said you were mine. We have
been long together—long trod life’s path as
brother and sister. I love you more now
than ever before; and in this moment, when
the man you have given your whole heart to
deserts you—basely proves himself unworthy
even of your friendship—I am ready to
kneel and plead again for a love I should
never have lost. \Vill you not let. me win
you back ?”

He arose and took a step toward her.

She waved him back.

“ Don’t come near me, Herwin Reese!
Say no more of this. Even toleration is
weak within me. A hypocrite is the mean-
est of men—even meaner than the thief who
would boldly rob a church altar, and after-
ward join the congregation in prayers. You
are a hypocrite. I know you hate Reginald
Darnley; yet you have. for over a year, held
the position of his valet, bowing before him
and executing his wishes as a very slave.
“That for ?—to gluta vengeance; a vengeance

i Satanic, because you fear to strike him like
a man; and like an assassin who lurks with-
in a gloomy forest, to waylay the uncon-
scious traveler, so do you wait to vent, from
concealment, the venom of your hate! Say
no more to me of love, orTI shall despise
you! IIushZ—here they come.”

Meg Semper returned at that juncture, ac-
companied by the party called Nemil.

He was an African of towering build,
bristling, bearded front, scowling, hang-
dog visage, and muscular frame. His face
was black as lamp-smoke, and of vengeful
expression; his eyes were bloodshot and of
brutal glance; his voice was of a guttural
baritone.

In no very good humor at being aroused
from a sound sleep, he preceded Meg, with
long strides, and glared at the two who
seemed awaiting his coming.

“Well,” he snarled. “what do you wake
me up at this time for?”

“A matter of business, Namil,” returned
Orle, authoritatively.

But her tone was far from quieting, for
he exclaimed, with a savage growl and a
grunt:

“Business be cursed! I’m tired. Can’t
keep on my feet for all time—nor can any-
body else! D‘you know that?”

“ Tush, Nemil! you’re an ass!” cried Meg.
“ Talk better to Orle.”

“But,” spoke the valet, who—though he
had not the remotest idea what Orle wanted
of the African, yet, despite her recent treat-
ment of him, was eager to sustain her---
sought to soothe him, “we thought you
were fond of money.”

“Ha! money!” quickly ejaculated the
negro, while his eyes shone greedily.

Meg Semper, with a grin, placed her forc-
finger against her nose.

“ Yes, Nemil; of coursc,where there’s busi-
ness, there’s money,” glancing at Orle.

“ I have a piece of work for you to per-
form, Nemil,” Orle said; “a plan in which
you must assist. If you are ready, it will
pay you. If you are not ready——then go back
to bed."

But the mention of money had thoroughly
awakened Nemil; he was now of a pliant
mind.

“ That’s another matter,” he grunted, with
satisfaction. “If there's money, I‘m ready
enough. Now, what is it?”

“Yes, what is it?" put in Meg. shrilly.
“I want to hear the plan to rob Reginald
Darnley of his intended bride. Out, now!”

“ You shall hear it. It is simple,” returned
the girl, her ripe lips compressed and dark
eyes flashing with thought of a rival whom
‘she was about to crush.

They grouped around her to discuss the
plot by which the marriage between Regi—
nald Darnley and Cecilia Bernard was to be
prevented; and the tableau was a weird one.

CHAPTER IV.
THE )rvsrrzmor's t‘ARIrPLAYER.
“ Alas! I have no hope nor health,
Nor peace within, nor calm around.”
-—SHELLEY.

REGINALD DARNLEY. after having (lis-
charged his valet, strode hurriedly past the
hall servant—who had caught just sufficient
ofthe angry dialogue to make him wonder
and gape—~and, seeking his rooms, he cast
himself mechanically into the nearest chair,
where he sat silently gazing down at the
carpet.

His father knew all—knew that he was a
gambler, a card-player, mingling with the
herding wretches who comprise the flashy,
daredevil portion of a community—only one
grade above the common “rough,” and with

 

no aim, no ambition, beyond the excitement
of “Tiger.”

Thenote purporting to have come from
Orle Deice had fed the flame of irritation;
though he could not believe the beautiful
girl, who professed such love for him, would
thus create so dangerous 3 discord.

The affair was one of mystery to him.

His handsome face flushed, paled, then
flushed again, as he meditated upon the prob-
able consequences pending. that action
would his father take? He was too stern,too
sensitive in the family honor, to calmly brook
the casting of a stain upon it.

Then the young man’s cheek whitened as
he thought of another thing: what if Mer-
vin Darnley should disown him? If such
happened, what had the future in store?---
poverty, degradation; for Reginald’s win-
nings at the baize table were equibalanced
by his losses, and, therefore, a meager, if
any, resource lay in this.

Though educated for society, he was with-
out a trade. Would his friends aid him?
Were there those among his “Bohemian”
acquaintances-his card-tricking. dice-bans
tering, “ sharp ”-p1aying associates — who
would lend him a helping hand?

Thus ruminating, he fell asleep.

He did not awake from his sound though
restless slumber until nine o’clock next
morning, and would have slept much later
had there not been a loud rap at his door.

A servant presented a note.

Trembling with agitation, he read the
epistle. As he perused the lines, all color
fled from his cheeks, he staggered and
clutched the mantelpiece for support, his
knees grew weak and his brain dizzy.

His worst fears were realized. The note
ran thus:

“ REGINALD DARNLEY:---

“Not. content with sullying the name of
Darnley by your infamous course, you have
proven yourself an unprincipled liar! It is
my duty to maintain the honor and dignity
of our house, at every sacrifice. Therefore,
understand: I no longer consider you son of
mine, and bid you, now and forever, quit
my presence! Go---go to those whose vile
surroundings you preferred to the home I
have striven to make pleasant for you; go,
where a Darnley never went before! And
this is the ending of a parent’s fondest hopes
---hopes of seeing you an upright man, hon-
ored among men---a mere shadow. My
heart bleeds!---but the justice of my course
will heal it. Do not seek an interview; I
would be spared its pain, and shall not
waver in my purpose.

“MERVIN DARNLEY."

And by this act did the manufacturer seek
to cleanse the sullied page.

“Disowned! Disowned!” groaned Reci-
nald, hoarscly. “God! what am I to do ‘2"

An hour after learning of his home-exile,
the young man was seated in a quiet restau-
rant, at breakfast.

He had immediately left the house, col-
lecting what ready money he could count,
and, with a desperate spirit, braced himself
to face the world, alone, without that shelter
which had opened to him always, from birth
to manhood.

As he sipped the warm coffee, his fine dark
eyes seemed to have lost much of their wont-
ed brilliancy; his face was pale, dejected, in
expression.

After securing rooms, he walked out to
the busy street, and turned~--he cared not
whither.

The noisy hum of business on every side
did not arouse him from his meditations,
as, with head hung, he pursued an indefinite
course.

Unknowingly, he wandered from the live-
liest sections-presently he became aware
that he was followed.

Glancing back, he saw an aged woman
approaching, with a basket on her arm.
Something in her appearance struck him.
He halted. In a few seconds she came up.

“ Ila! h-ua! Reginald Darnley, we‘ve
met again. eh?”

There Was no mistakng that voice; it was
the fiend-visaged hag, Meg Srmper.

She dropped the basket; her hand sought
the murderous knife that was secreted in the
folds of her dress.

Shuddcring, he glanced quickly about
him; not a soul in sight. He was almost
in the suburbs of the city. The thorough-
fare was lonely, deserted : and on the
ominous stillness arose the hum of the dis-
tant market.

“ I told you I was going to be your death!”
cried the hag, advancing upon him.

How strange the fascination of those
basilisk eyes! They held him riveted in a
horrible magnetism.

“ I-Ia! h---a. you’re doomed. Prepare!
My oath!--~my oath!"

Thrills of ineffable horror, quick and
startling to the nerves, flashed through his
system ; his mouth twitched, his hands
worked corivulsively, great heads of sweat
started out upon his brow: alarming chills
shot through his veins; his eyes were fixed
starineg on the creature who menaced him,
while all strength froze upon his muscles——
left him powerless, dismayed.

\Vas it to he a murder, in broad daylight,
upon the public street?

“Doomed, Reginald Darnley!--»domnedl"
another step; the shining knife glistened in
her hand.

Suddenly there was the rustle of a dress,
the wind of a swiftly passingr figure, some-
thing quivcred for an instant before the
hag’s eyes—a small white hand and wrist,
with the single tongue of flame—the Talis-
man!

 

Meg.r Sempcr uttered a half-smothered howl
of rage, and wheeled around in time to see

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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