Copyrighted, lPNfi, by BEADth AM) Amms. Entered in the I’m-t ('Itfii e M New York. N. Y., as Second Clms Mail Mutter. Murrh Q4, 1985.

VOL. IV.

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NO. 44.

 

 

 

 

 

“G0. SIR, AND WHEN YOU MAKE HELENE YOUR BRIDE I VHLL WISH YOU MUCH JOY.

THE EBUN MASK;

0r, THE MYSTERIOUS GUARDIAN.
BYMRS. MARY REED OBOWELL.

CHAPTER I.
THE JEALOUS LOVER.

IT was a. lovely winter morning in the year 

177—, and the young town of Pensacola, in the

beautiful “land of flowers,” lay green and fair. “

bathed in the early sunlight of that February
morning. Not a half a score of years had
passed since the settlement of the village, yet it
already Wore an air of comfort and prosperity.
Men stately dwellings were erected, and the
inha itants secure and content intheir Southern

Go!"

‘ home, where the flowers ever bloom, and the
1 air comes balmy and spicy, laden with a thou-
‘ sand sweets.

Upon a slight eminence, a little to the left of

the town, stood a residence more pretentious in
‘ style and more imposin in appearance than.
any of its neighbors. Tal cedars and the fra—
: grant aniseed grew side by side, while the
1 oranges, palms, and the lovely bay-trees inter-
mingled their beautiful foliage, and sheltered
j the house from the heat.

On three sides were shade and perfume; the
fourth commanded a View of the hmpid waters
of the bay; and the cool air of the early morn-
ing was rendered still more refreshing by the
1 breeze off the waters.

} .Standlng upon an open space, scarce. reten—
l tious enough to be calledabelcony, W1 __ eyes

 

THE EBON MASK.

 

 

eagerly scanning the blue, broad expanse before
him was a. man evident] forty years of age.
His back is toward us bu , from the square and
not ungraceful shoulders, tall, arrowy form, l
and raven hair, we should judge the face to be i
good; perhaps not handsome, but certainly ‘
pleasing.

He turns; there is impatience in his movement I
and gesture, and muttered words fall from his

lpS.

There he is full before us, and We see his fea-
tures. 'Handsome, are they not? These eyes
are blacker than ebony, and large, lustrous, and
passionate. The brow is rather high, but the r
dark, half-curling locks seem to fall caressingly,
rather than carelessly, over its wide expanse.
The mouth is haughty, and the lips curve proud—
ly;‘ but there is a certain something, at first
sight indefinable, that impresses the gazer; a,
peculiar expression that betokens~whati Notice
again the apparently faultless eyes, so brilliant
and jetty. See you that sensuous gleam—a
deep, almost hidden boldness? There, at the»
mouth again—yes, it is so—he, the handsome .
man, the elegant beau, is an accomplished de-
ceiver, a. Eracticed 

A ain e approaches the window and scans
the ay; his eyes grow fierce and angry; and
he pushes his heavy black hair impatiently from
his brow.

“ Vexationl does the villainous rogue imagine
I shall wait all day 1gpen his laggard footsteps?
A sound bastinado, ’ he arrives not within a
quarter of an hour.”

His voice was harsh, and when he spoke his
face seemed to lose much of its beauty. Ten
minutes he waited, now glancing anxiously
without, then resuming his quick, impatient
promenade. As he seemed about to leave his
watch-post, he neared the window again; a
quick low cry escaped him, and he hastily
raised his handkerchief to his face, then waving
it twice, hung it upon a. steel hook just outside
the easement, where it slowly folded and unfold
ed, as the capricious breeze toyed with it.

Almost immediately below the window, and
about anchoring, was a small boat, light and
graceful. A_ single person occu ied it, and he
seemed awaiting something. e signal from
‘ the easement had been observed and replied to,

lore small flag flaunted from the stern-end of
v-he canoe, and the boatmau sat carelessly down,
or it expecting more.

From the little turret, the impatient watcher
turned to the door, and passed dewn the stair-
way into the apen entry below, and out upon
the ground. ith a firm ste and expectant
countenance, he walked rapi ly down to the
water’s edge, where he met the solitary sailor;

“ Well, and what news?”

“£2: question ‘was demanded, rather than
, "Poon- news, I fear sir. There were no tid-
mgs, and no one at all appeared to know any
thing about him.”

The leowl on the querist’s face grew darker
“$8523: him B e; m.

.on'I utdidouo 90 r
place Pinto?” y g
“ es 511‘; but I could not see the lady, so

{ ,

 

‘ did not leave the message. I thought her mo-

ther geemed angry when I told her I desired to
we—

“ Silence, fool I Unsuccessful in both or-
randsl Truly a valuable messenger! That
will do for the present; repair to your (pan
ters until I semi for you.” .

With lowering brow and disappomtment
plainly written on every feature of his counte-
nance, Antonio Zarate turned awa to meditate
and reflect upon his unsuccessful ) ans.

The boatman followed him wi h a fiery 

“‘Valuable messenger.’ indeed! _And ow
could I or any one else help it? Didn’t I go
five miles further down the be on urpose to
see if I could learn of him? And if I di n‘t beg of
the lady to let me see her daughter, then I don’t
know What begging is. ‘ VrJuablo messenger?
If the brave lieutenant commanding isn’t care-
ful, he’ll find Pepe Pinto a ixfferent sort of mes-
sen or from what he ex or, "

T e messenger, Pepe ism, had anchored his
boat. and secured it still further by tying it
to a short mangrove tree, while the bitter words

ssed his lips; and now, is he started toward

is “quarters,” to which he was ordered, he
saw his officer, just as he entered the doorway;
and again the anger burs-5 forth in words:

“ Go on, senor commandante, in your wicked-
ness, for the day will come—the day of retribu-
tion! You think to win her, the beautiful Flo-
rida blossom, but you can’t; no, you can never
woo her from her first love—her true lover.
And the brave hunter can laugh at you, and
Pepe can laugh, too, for he knows more than

on think he does. Ha! ha! Senor A11me

rate, noble sir oommandante, with all your
charms, you will not succeed, now or never l”

The excited youth had reached his barrack,

and passed out of sight through the entrance-

wa . . .

gather up the gentle eminence, and into the
pleasant white house had gone Antonio Zarate,
with the pale hue of baffled villainy in his suns-

ter face.

“ Contemptible rascal! [He had better fly my
Jengeance, for he knows I am desperate. L1
tie care I, it he ever sets foot upon Pensacola’s
shores again; but this I do care' he must not
-—sha,ll not again see her. The lily-livered wheip,
to dare to aspire to her hand!” _

By a. violent effort he checked his anger, and
rising, run a small hell that stood upon a stand.
A meniu answered his summons. I

“ Has Louis arrived yeti” ‘

“Just $515 moment, sir, and is now without
awaitin' your orders.” ‘

“ Tell 1m to ride instantly to the block-house,
and without dela give this billet to Lucas De
Leon. Haste, an tell Louis if he isback in good
time, a golden onza shall reward him for his
trouble. Here, sirrah—the note.” .

He had hastil scribbled on a chance scrap of
paperaline. he servant took it, bowed ser-
vzlely, and de arted. ‘

The ofiicer lighted his cigar-rite, and, not hav-
ing breaktasted, rung for his meal. It was .
brought, and. eating it, he resumed his‘smok-

gl'ot long did he await the coming of DeLeon,
for it scarce seemed Is that e boy Louis
reached theblock-houseiere he returned.

   

 

 

   

  

THE EBON MASK. 8

 

accompanied by a horsamzm, who, as he gal-
» d. through the gateway, flung the reins to
guide, at the same time tossing him a coin.

“What, Lucas, so soon? I surel promised
Louis the onza if he returned quick y; but this
is worth double that, for it exceeds speed. Come,
draw up and take a glass of wine to refresh you
after your ride.”

“Thanks, Antdnio. What capital wine you
keep! Now, my cigar is lighted, and I am
curious to hear the tid—bit of news promised in
the brief note.”

“No ‘tid—bit,’ Lucas, if by that you mean a
choice morsel; far from it, man amigo. Rather
a big lump of vexation, rage and mortifica-
tion.”

De Leon opened his eyes Wider.

“ Ah, I comprehend—and I don’t wonder.
You mean the beauteous Helene Valencie’i”

“The same; and you speak truly when you
call her beauteous. Those eyes and ringlets are
enough to set any head turnmg, be it a wiSe one
or a weak.”

“ They can upset a wise one, that is clear,”
laughed De Leon, carelessly loosening the ashes
from the tip of his cigar. “But seriously, An-
tonio. what is it that so troubles you ?”

“ You know her lover, the hunter and .friend
of the Indians? Well—’

“ What?” interrupted De Leon, “Helene Va-
Iencie has a. lover, and it is not you i”

His voice indicated extreme surprise;

“Yes, and that‘s 1just exactly it. I didn’t
know it myself until ately, but it's even so.”

“ Strange! You say he is a hunter and on
amicable terms with the Indians, too?’

“ So I learn; and the fair Helene loves him.”
~ De Leon was looking thoughtfully out of the
window.

“And you sent for me, Antonio, to assist

you?” _

“ Exactly; will on do it?”

“ How can I? but must I do?”

“Lucas,” and the villainous face of Antonio
Zarate bent close to his com anion—“Lucas,
there is such a word as compu sion.”

His comrade smiled.

“ I am aware of it; I understand such things, 1

man amigo. You kno w_, in our country, beauti-
ful fipain, such transactions are common. This
,, wouldn’t be the first one Antonio Zarate had a.

hand in, eh?” _

A meaning smile was his reply.

“And you cando it, think you?”

“ Without doubt.” 7

“ And how i”

“ Plenty of time, and plenty of opportunities.
Patience is the essential quality in my case.”

“ And as to the whereabouts of this lover—”

“ Ah, that is just what I would like to know.
Mysterious, of course, in all his movements.
He heard I had sworn to kill him—so Pepe
Pinto says—and preferring life to death, has
suddenly disapggared.” .

“ Of course lady-love is advised of his pro-
ceedings?” .

“I know not' hit it I could learn his wild
haunts, 1 would have him arrested and confined

7 under some pretext or other.”
V“ Can’t
“ I '

on find him i”
t. pomibly. I have a hasty follower.

 

 

a servant I brought with me, who can be relied
on most implicit] . He was accustomed to such
errands, so woul beno novice. I might send
him I suppose.”
“You might, indeed. But, Antonio Ihad no
idea the mornin was so far advanced. I will
be compelled to save, for duty calls. Adios.”
To ether Lucas De Leon and the command-
ante sit the room.

CHAPTER II.
Tim UNWELCOME GUEST.

It was after sunset; the great golden orb had
sunkto repose beneath the waves of the bay.
while over its limpid waters still streamed a
brilliant radiance, a bright line of light left by
the departing luminary. The purple twilight
was softly stealing on, and slowly but surely
embracing the fragrant grovesof uniseed, oran e
and myrtle. The tall palmettos swayed in the
wind, and from afar came the music of the
breeze as it rippled through the cedars, or sung
its dirgelike melody, while it disturbed the
solemn quietness of gloomy cypresses.

' The evening was but a type of many evenings
in “ linda Florida,” cold, balmy, spicy, roman-
1c

Among a grove of orange trees stood a low
frame cottage; no appliances of wealth marked
it. but its every feature bore unmistakable evi-
dence of refined taste. Before the low door,
upon the green mossy earth, sat a creature

“ 0! face so fair.
0f form so rare,"
that one unconsciously gazed again to assure
himself that she was a human being, and not
an angel or fairy.

It was not in beauty of feature that Helene
Valencia excelled all others; it was not that
her eyes were brighter, deeper, clearer than any
of the other village beauties, or that her lovely
jetty hair fell rippling over a fairer neck than
theirs; it was not all this that impressed the
observer with an indelible picture of her supe-
rior beauty; it was the pure soul, the gentle
disposition, marked in every character of her
face, in ever lineament of her features.

Pure, gent e, and loving, Helene Valencia was
an object to love and to be loved.

And she did love, and was loved.

Julian St. John, the fair-haired hunter, al-
though not a native of sunny Florida, Heleue’s
adoplted home, was her chosen—the one to whom
she ad given all her iougg heart’s devotion;
and well worthy was 9 . the affection be-
stowed upon him.

She sat alone before the humble doorway
gazing upon the brilliant evening star, the
hun shimmering in the sky, when a gentle
tone on the arm aroused her from herslight
reverie. She started and turned.

“9h, Pepe, is it you? How you startled
me. ‘

“Beg your pardon, Senorita; but I am in
great haste to regain my quarters before Colonel

arate discovers my absence.”

“ What, are (you away a sin without leave!” '

“‘Again,’ la yl Were towait for permis-
sion to come here, I’d never get it. Y den’t
known senor commandante Iowan u I/ o.”

.Spanish settlement had changed his appearance
somewhat, while in custom and habit he re-

4 , THE EBON MASK.

 

“I suppose not;

at for all that I am assured
heis abad man. epe, did you bring me my
message?” '

The color, deepening on her face, betrayed ,

her anxiety:

“Yes senorita; here it is.”

“Ami you saw Julian?”

“‘I did not; but found the note in the usual ‘
place, under the same stone. I hope the young
master is well and safe?” _

Her quick eye had read the tiny billet, and as
she refolded it, came her reply:

“Physically well, es; but hunted and driven
lfiklera beast. What as he done, Pepe, so fear-

u

“ Does the senorita know his enemies are per-
sonal foes, ursuing him for personal reasons
and dislikes?’ ‘

Helene’s face paled, and a murmured “Heaven
save him!” fell from her lips.

“Pepe, my friend, I will reply to this note,
and will you see about giving it to him! Sit
down a moment while I write.”

The Spanish girl’s figure disappeared, and
Pepe Pinto sat alone in Senora Valencie’s door-
way—Pepe Pinto, the colonel’s “valuable mes-
senger!” , .

.Even so; Pepe Pinto, the soldier, the com-
mandante’s servant, his order] , was a spy upon
his officer’s conduct. Well he new of Antonio
Zarate’s assion for the beauteous Helene, of
his deep atred and jealousy of the accepted
lover, Julian. He pla ed his part well, and
when the villainous o cer told him to search
after the fortunate rival, and bring news of his
wharcuhouts, it was a very easy matter to re-
turn from an apparently fruitless inquiry;
while at the same time it was quite as easy to
carry amessage from Helene and bring a reply.

Blind to evl thing but his own wicked pur-
poses, Antonio arate never suspected his appa-
rently trusty servant, and laid is plans in fan-
cied security.

Sent by t c S anish Government with a body
of soldiers, an accompanied by nearly fifty
families, 1.1: had come to America and, under
the direction of the Spanish authorities, who
then held Florida, settled upon the shores of
Pensacola Bay, christening their little town by
the same softly-flOWing name. Here, despite
occasional attacks by the white man’s enemies
-—tbe terrible Seminoles—the young settlement
flourished, and in less than ten years after its
birth numbered nearly four thousand inhabi-
tants, many American, some pure Spanish, but
more Spano—Amem‘cam, or half-breeds.

Julian St. John was an American—a North
American; but a residence of eight years in the

mained true to nature. u

At the block-house, where were stationed the
troops, under command of Colonel Zarate, all
was gayety and animation. The wine ran in

red streams, and loud oaths mingled with shouts .
The mirth was not un-
 for among the oficers revels were of
nigh y occurrence. Piles of Spanish currency
lay; on the dtgleile; beside them, soiled cards and »

Whomthenoisynoupsatthel

of drunken laughter. ,

 

gh terin
Somew

commandante, his restless gaze bent toward the
west. Direct?r ho arose, and donning his mili-
tary hat, an drinking a glass of fragrant
lemonade to remove from his breath all traces
of cigar \scent, strolled out the gateway, and
down the shaded road to a small White cottage.

His summons was answered by a tall, dignified

lady.

‘ Ah, senora, I bid you a very good even' -
and your charming dau hter also. Am Inifil
trading? Iho enot. for bad romised myself
a pleasant cha with Senora Va encie.”

‘Be seated, senor, although the poor cabin
afterd’svfew comforts to one accustomed to luxw
lines.

The lady’s tone was cold and distant: but.

the determined lover was not to be thus re-
polled.

“Did I not see your daughter as I came in?
I imagined so.”

" She was here, but left the ’room to attend to
a caller just before your arrival.”

At this moment, low tones were heard from
the adjoining room, near the rear entrance.

“Pepe go; be quick] Your master is here
now, an you must not tarry. Remember, to-

morrow at sunset, be at the orange grove.

Adios.”
“ Hold, rogue, villain! What do you here?”
It was Colonel Zarute who spoke. He had
heard the name “Pepe,” low as it was spoken,
and, forgetful of goal—breeding, had darted to
the back door, just in time to see his servant

depart. -
he secret heart of Pe Pinto was rejoiced at
his being discovered. ng had he wished for
an opportunity to free himself from his severe
superior in command, but, as yet no chance had
presented itself. But now, were he again to fall
into the hands of the cruel commandante, his
fate would certainly be imprisonment, probably
worse.

Of course he would never return to his bar-

racks to meet that punishment. He was then ‘

free, though a deserter. But _what of that?
Once away, he would jom his friend, Julian St.
John, and together they would roam the forests,
bidding- defiance to the colonel and his chivalric
followers-

.. a What do I here? My bueines, sir, which is’ .

none of yours.” , .
“Silence. Do youdare to reply thus to me?!
“I do dare! What or who are you, that I

should carei‘or you? From this hour you num-

ber Pepe Pinto no more as one of your tools-

I go, I fly; not so much to escape your V611-

geanoe as to aid the hunter in feilin you and

your spies. Ha! ha! Colonel Zaraiel Pepe
news a little more than you think for! ‘ Adios,
noble sir: do not fear,.you will see me a ain.”
Laughing scornfully, he sprun away, 68”“
the trio in mute amazoment. ge empugge

Zarate’s countenance, as he turned 130 118'

Valencia. '

“What does it meant I demand“ know-

Tell me.” 7
“When Senor Zarate so far forgets himself

as to speak thus, he can scarcely expect an 311'

swer

The July’s voice was calm and dignified, but '

it only increased his ire.

\

 

 

 

5‘s 2 .y '

THE EBON MASK. 5 ‘

 

“ And you, girl, are in league with the vilest
rascal on the face of the earth. But you will
be foiled. Julian St. John shall never wed with
you and before many days Helene Valencie
shall be the bride of the oommandante.”

The girl was pale, but collected. She pointed
to the open door.

“There, sir, is the way. My mother and 1
prefer our own sociot to that of a villain and a
coward, Go, sir, an when you make Helene
your bride, I will wish you much 'oy. Go!”

Together with her mother she left the room,

assmg to their bedroom and securing the door.

he officer was left alone, standing in the de-
serted apartment. For a moment only did he
thus wait, then striding angrily out, returned
to the block—house, to chew the bitter cud of re-
venge and baffled villainy.

Not half an hour later, stealing through the
green thicket, was a figure, its bright eyes
gleaming in the starlight, and the long, heavy
tresses of ebon hair rolling down the neck and
shoulders in rippling waves. 'V’Vith anxious eyes
the woman scanned the low thatched cottage,
and then, as if satisfied with the reconnaissance,
stole more boldly along till she came directly
under an open casement. in which the moon-
beams poured, revealing the figure of a young

‘ girl, attired in a loose flowing garment of white.

The woman’s wild eyes were peering at the fair
face while she spoke: /

“Ah, Forest-Bird, you have folded your
wings, but the night-hawk is prowling yet.
Litt 9 one, the enemy is abroad. ”

Helene started, but regained her composure.

“ 0h. Nina, are you there? Wait a moment
while I come down and unbar the door.”

“ No, no; let the bolts and bars be. Nina
wants no roof to rest under; the blue sky is her
cane y, and the green savannas her couch. But
the outhern Blossom, the brilliant Forest-Bird,
needs protection, for the enemy is prowling.”

“ Enemies have I, Nina? And what have I
done that foes should lie in wait for me?”

“What does the innocent doe, that the trap
should be laid, or the little bird that the net
mitt? be Spreaq l: f th htful f

young glr s ace ew on 01‘
she remembered the threat? g ’

“If the snare is laid. how can I escape?”

The woman's eyes flashed; she drew herself
to her full hi ht, and proudly replied:

“ Does the crest-Bird forget she has Nina for
her friend? and - Nina, the ‘ Wild Wanderer,’
never forgets a friend! ’

“ Thanks, thanks, and Helene is proud of her
champion. She will never fear.” '

Stealtth and carefully the strange creature
crept away from Helene’s rewnce burying
herself in the magnolia thic ets; w ile to the
young girl’s ear was waited back the sang:

“ Fear not. fear not, one heart is true, ,
One arm will bear thee safely through:
One heart there beats so true and warm,

.Toguardtheerromallillandharm."

The tones died away in the distance, and all
was still in' but the maiden’s heart was
troubled. he fierce threat of the despised and

' was fresh .in her memory;

unsuccesst n
- not that she feared for herself. but. oh. if Pepe

 

had told her truly when he said Julian would
surely die if the commandante found himl

The assuring words of Nina—~the poor, half-
crazed creature, who, since the settlement had
been founded, had wandered, uhmolested—com-
forted her, and in a short time she fell into a
quiet slumber, the words of the love-song
chanted by the departing sin or still ringing in
her ears and coming again in er dreams.

CHAPTER III.
A noouns’ COUNCIL:

“AND you consider this new fellow, Ricovi,
trusty in every way, and sure never to turn
traitor?”
hf‘ I" do most certainly repose confidence in

1m. ,

The friends, Zarate and De Leon, sat alone in
the room overlooking the buy; the same apart-
ment from which. a few mornings since, the col—
onel had watched and waited the arrival of his
messenger, Pepe. The habitual cigar was be

In undress uniform the oflicers sat; each
thinking, most probably. of the same thing.

“ Yes, Antonio,” said De Leon, again, after a
somewhat lengthy pause—“yes, I would allow
Ricovi to act as spy were 1 as sure oi his worthi-
ness as you say you are. lie is cunning. crafty,
and faithful. What more do you want?”

“ True; no more. I am only suspicious of
Ricovi, because I have been disappointed in
Pinto. It is hardly doing the former justice, I
admit, to doubt his ability; but this treason in
Pope was so unexpected. I actually detected
him in his/baseness; I was at the cottage of the
beautiful Helene when I heard his’voice, and
found him about to convey a billet to the hun—
ter from his lady-love. Since then, I have learn~
ed that, for some time, when on errands for me,
to discover J ulian‘s hidingplace, he has served
my lady by invariably carrying messages and
w a't—not between them.”

“Sol I do not wonder you are suspicious.
Anyhow, you can be revenged on Pepe: Is he
not a deserter, and, as one, liable to death if
cau ht?”

“ es, if caught; but I don’t apprehend that.

 

Before now, he has doubtless joined the hunter, p

and both will elude all vigilant search, I fear.”‘

“True; for this St. John appears veryretired .

in his habits.”

“Therefore, I shall immediately send Ricovi
out and try what can be done. I shall have
Pinto arrested as a deserter, and if caught the
hunter Julian can be taken and brought here
under the pretext of aiding in‘ the escape of a
deserter from the Spanish arms. How’s that?"

“ Ca ital. What more?”

“ I s all see Ricovi now, and give him his di-
rections; this very night sees him on his way.
Here, De Leon, a glass of sparkling wine to our
success; the overthrow of the rival, and the
ipeedy ossession of the jewel, the Senorita

elene alencie.”

The brimming oblets were drained.

“ And is this ad real] so beautiful, An-
tonio? You know have on here but a few
months, and never yet have I been so fortunate
as to catch a glimgze of her.” .

“Beautiful? '1‘ t doesn’t begin to express

 

 

 

  

THE EBON MASK.

 

 

 

half her charms. I wish Icould describe her;
such hair and eyes— But, by my soul, that’s
she now! Do you see, coming down there by
the magnolias? There, De Leon, what say you?
Does ‘ beautiful’ express it?”

De Leon’s eyes were fixed with startling ear-
nestness upon the unconscious passer~by.

“Dias e mi almal Antonio, if I couldn’t
swear it were another l”

“ Who? You mean, I suppose, that Spanish
beau there in Madrid?”

“ 9 same, man! You sit there very cool] ,
however, while I am perfectly thunderstruc
I say, Antonio, the resemblance is positively
fear ul.”

“ onsense, fellow' just remember that Isa-
bella and this lovely helene, are both natives of
the same soil; and besides there is always a
great similarity between Spain’s daughters.”

“ But this is unusual; of course you have no-
ticed it before, haven’t you? By the way, Za-
rate how did you succeed with her?”

“ With Isabella, you mean? 0h, married her
of course; a month of love and paradise, an
that’s the last I ever heard of her. lexpect
she is the wife of some Don or other, for her
face might make her fortune—or break it, for
that matter." _,

“ I should think you would have been afraid
to desert her as you did : besides, she would have
proved a, good wife, I think.” _

“Yes, so—so,” drawled the commandante re-
lightin his cigar. h But, about that time i left
Madri , and for seven years wandered here and
there; then I joined the army and was stationed
at Gibraltar nearly five years, when I was or-
dered to take command of a number of emi-

rants to Florida. So on see, even if I had

eared La Senora Isabe la’s vengeance, I was

nit: secure, moving from place to place, as I

“ Has this new lady-love of yours beenjn the
place long?” ‘

“Only since the last arrival of settlers—not
more than a. year, I think. But, De Leon, the
day is passing rapidly on, and you know I must
see Ricovi ere noon, so he may start at once.
Send him to me immediately.”

/
CHAPTER N.
THE MEETING in THE GLADE.

IT was at the midnight hour, and the lovely
night bung warm and pleasant. The full moon
shone brightly down among the gloomy cy-
presses, and cast but a faintly-traceable shadow
upon the greensward below. Stretched upon
the soft earth was the figure of a man, of pro-

ions at once firm and graceful. He was clad
in a hunting-frock of dressed skin; his feet were
covered th moccasins, and breeches of deer-
skin enveloned his limbs. A rude cap, most
probany manufactured by himself, lav under
his. head, and his hand grasped the ready rifle,
311111]; a. bright-gleaming knife lay across his

g s. .
The face could be'but dimly seen in the flick
ering moonlight, but the open, manly expression
was plainly visible, and one would imagine
the other features were not wanting in comeli-

ness.
A step, so light as scarcely to be heard. fell

 

 

upon the stillness of the night-air. The sleeper
started to his feet; the slumber thus easily bro-
ken provm him accustomed to be ever on the
alert, possib y ever in danger.

Another figure apfiroached, and cautiously en-
tered the gloomy do .

“ Ah, Pepe, it is you? I feared it ‘was astron-
ger—Erobabl a spy. When will the time come
that can do down and repose in safety and
quiet, and Without my rifle for a companion and
pistols for my pillow?”

“ When you substitute a bunch of feathers
for the last, and the lovely Helene for the first,
friend Julian, and I fear not much sooner. But
I have news.”

“ You have? What?”

“ Colonel Zarate has another spy upon us-
osten51bly to arrest me, the deserter, but really
to take you; and you know death will be our lot
if captured—mine for desertion; yours for aid-
ing in my escape. ” '

“ Another spy, eh? Who is he, and how did
you learn it?”

“ One of the friends I have in the town told me
he heard the commandante givin directions to
afellow from the block-house. 11% is not a sol-
dier, but a sort of servant; his name is Ricovi."

“ N ot. that man, surelyl Why, Pope, you
know him 3” .

“ Ricovil” repeated Julian, musingly; and, as
if he associated unpleasant recollections with the
name, he grasped his rifle tightly.

“But, Julian, I must return to the cottage,
and get back before dawn; so if you desire word
sent, tell me now and let me be off.”

A hurried message and a. note were given to
Pinto.

“ Await the reply, and meet me in the ruins
before sunrise.”

Pepe departed with cautious tread, leaving
Julian to snatch his light slumbers or pursue his
wa as be deemed best?

wiftly but silently the deserter hastened on,
keeping out of the brilliant moonlight, and care-
fully avoiding the open spaces. Two hours’
walking brought him to the cottage; a few mo-
ments served to awaken the inmates and secure
the requisite reply from Helene and he imme-
diately took his way back toward the appointed
place of rendezvous.

He had retraced his steps nearly a. mile and
was passing through a deep, dark cypress-glade,
when a sound, as of an animal breaking its way
through the underbrusb, attracted his atten-
tion. Nearer it came, and louder grew the
breaking of branches. Filled with a prehea-
sion, Pepe grasped his knife and look to the
priming of his rifle.

Suddenly the cracklireig sound ceased, and a. p

deathlike silence reign in the cyléress dell.
All was dim and dark, and Pinto’s re was
scarcely visible in the midnivht, but _rom the
low.‘quick breathing one could tell of his eager-
nefis andlwatchfutlénfiss. d t tan

xact o si im, an no yardsaway,
a dusky fhcglpoeered through the natural thicket.
In the darkness the bri ht eyes could, not per-
ceive the fugitiVe sol ier standing so detera
minedly erect, but Pe saw the gleam of those
eyes, and, imagining t em those of an. animal,
uttered a sigh of relief. The face was instantly

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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withdrawn, for quick ears had heard the sound,
which verified a former supposition.

“Hey! t’ought he in dar; sure now. Guess
’im don’t know ’Covey so close by. Poor com-
p’nly better’n none, any way I”

he face and term were those of the spy
Ricovi, sent a short time before on his erran
of blood and vileness. Gold was to be his re
ward, if successful, and a handful of the coin
glittered in his belt, “just to feed his appetite,”
as Zarato had said, when he handed it to him,
with the promise of more when his task was
succemfully accomplished; and no more if
otherwise. Consequently, in Ricovi he found
a ready and willin tool—one who, if necessary
would steep his ands in blood for “gold,
gold;” or commit any crime to satisfy his ava-
ricious thirst. Such a man—no, such a fiend—
lay motionless and uiet upon the ground just
outside the glade. is mind was intent upon
securing the man inside; that was his errand,
and he must accomplish it.

“Good for ’Coveyl Cotch ’im quick, tool
Guess don’t know spg' at his heels. Hey, Mr.
Julian, you’re trappe .”

Silently as a specter he arose and glided
around to the spot where Pinto_ stood, still

azing at the place where the beaming eyeballs
had peered through Suddenly a weight, heavy
and ponderous, felled him to the ground, and a
wild ell rung in his ear.

“ i-i-i, ole teller! Wonder who’s got ’im

now? Guess ’Covey kin ketch hunter, too,
what help d’sert’r run away!"
/ Pepe made a desperate effort to free himself
from the awkard Sosition in which he lay.
His face was tower the ground, and the huge,
shar knee of Ricovi pressed upon his back.

“ t go, you accursed rascal! Up, or I’ll
blow our brains out!”

“ ill, eh! Let‘s see ye! Here’s yer gun
where I knocked him, and tbar’s yer knife where
you trowed him. Hi—i-il I got ye. Now I’m
goin’ to tote ye [113 to Pensycoly.”

“I am not J ian, the hunter; so you had
better let me go at once.” '

“Don’t too! this one, can tell' ye! Think
’Covey so simple as b’lieve that?”

“No, you are far from being sim lo, and I
commend you for your sharpness. ut, truly,
I am not the hunter you seek; I am a traveler
through here. bound to the next village; but I
know where this hunter is, for he crossed my
path not an hour ago.” .

The politely-sincere—or apparently-Sincere—
speech of Pepe was not without its effect upon
Ricovi. Doubt entered his mind, and he really
wondered if this was true. Pinto could easily
have proven his words, that he was not the
hunter, as the reader knows; but, to have ex-

his face would have been to sign his own

oath-warrant. For, though Ricovi might not

have reco ' PepeYS voice, still his face was
familiar.

Peipe thought a moment.

have some gold. You may take it all if ;-

youwill let me up. I am not he whom you
seek; see these bands are dark and toil-worn,
and on know the hunter is fair to look upon.
Besi es, suppose I were your enemy see you
not how powerless I sin—a11- ans 9”

 

l
l

. tried to throw a satisfactor

. his face.

1

 

He felt the heavy knee slightly raised.

“ Gi’ me gold now?"

“ Yes; see here in this bag the bright pieces.
Take them and let me hasten on.”

The wily spy removed his weight, and Pepe
sprung u , with only the rude grasp of the arm
to remln him he was still a prisoner, until the
lucre exchanged owners.

The money was Ricovi’s, and Pepe was free.
He darted for his trusty rifle. which lay already
loaded on the earth, whither it had been thrown
as Ricovi flung himself upon him unawares.

Still doubting the spy's honor, Pepe kept one
eye u n him as he bent to secure his rifle; and
well or him that he did; for the treacherous
rogue intended no such good luck to Pinto as
escape. So the moment his face was averted,
he sprung toward him, but not in time; for
Pepe saw his maneuver, and tumin suddenly,
the blow which was intended for t 9 back of
Pinto’s head, fell wide of its mark, and Ricovi
pitched sprawling on the ground. Quick as a
dart, the deserter’s knee was planted‘on his
breast.

“ Villain, now who is in your power! Fool,
dolt, to think to outwit Pepe Pinto! Yes, stare
and gaze: it is I, the deserter! Now, go to your
master, the noble, the gallant commandante,
and tell him of this. Go, for I seem to take the
worthless life from one who could contemplate
the cowardly deed you did!”

He had disarmed the spy, who sprung up.
and, ere Pinto could give him the parting salute
he intended—a sound kick—was out of the
glade, and crushing through the underbrush in
the drection of Pensacola. '

Pepe stood a moment. Light was just dawn-
ing in the east, and warned him to pursue his
way, ere seen by those who might not prove too
friendly.

Gathering up his gun and knife, he rapidly
pursued an exactly opposite course to that the
spy had taken, resolved to keep his appointment
at the ruins, whither Julian had gone!

CHAPTER V.
THE oninr’s raomsn.

A SOLITARY light burned dimly in an up r
room, and learning out in the darkness, ran , er-
ed'the blac night doubly gloomy. .

Without, the murky clouds went scudding
across the sky, and the waves of the usually pla-.
cid bay came beating and dashing, flecked with
angry foam, against the hard foundation of the
block-house. .

It was Antonio Zarate sitting in the upper
room, where »- the faint candle-gleams vainly
low upon the
note he was reading, probab y or the 'i'ortieth
time. Near him sat a rough, villainously-
visaged man, his elf-locks hanginlglwildl over

By the uncertain glare, 'covi ooked
more the fiend than man. ,
“And you found this note on Pinto’s potion
after ou knocked him senseless?” ‘

“ es; we fit some time ’fore he caved; then,
when he keeled over, I just s’arched his person,
and $011!}, sci-est that than Preshus poor pick-
in s. V

“ There were no valuables or money?” ‘ /
°‘ Nary an onza!” chuckled the liar. while his

 

 

8

THE EBON MASK.

 

hand: rested in his pocket on the well-filled
uc .

pow Zarate perused the note, now torn and
soil . It was very brief:

“MY JULIAN—(so it ram—Pepe waits while I re- .

ly; I cannot commit my thoughts to paper here,
at meet me on Tuesda night at the orange bower
just before midnight. hen I will tell you all. Till
then my own noble Julian, farewell, and may xgood
angels guard you. H. .“

The habitual scowl on Zarate’s face was re—
placed by an eager, satisfied expression, as he
read the lines and an inward chuckle denoted
his delight fie arose and looked out of the
‘window.

“The night is dark, but good for our pur-
pose. Brin the horses to the door immediately,
and we wi be off. Remember, not a syllable
of this, or—J’ and he touched the hilt of his
sword.

A few seconds and the commandante and Ri-
covi were riding fa st and furious from the sleep—
ing Village, plunging through the gloomy for-
ests, or speeding along the open highways. One
hour’s ride brought them to their destination,
and they dismounted, tying their beasts securely
to a stout sapling.

It was a wild plain, deep in the apparently
inaccessiblevcenter of a wood, and t e storm-
laden wind, as it whistled shrilly through the
Shivealilng treetops, rendered the gloom trehly

18m .

Before them stood a small Indian lodge, the
rays from a bfightly-glgwing fire gleaming into
the dark night from tween the irregular in-
terstices of skins which served as door. The
strong perfume of the inmate’s pi came un-
pleasantly out, and while the fasti ious Zarate
could not repress a sniff of dis list at the rather
too odoriferous scent, Ricovi s rugged his gaunt
shoulders and smiled if a contortion of such
distorted features could be called such.

“Very good; he is in good ’umor when he
smokes .hat pipe.”

Another moment and the two were within
the lodge and the bear—skin fell between them
and the gloomy night.

Bquatted before the fire, on a soft mat, his
imperturbable countenance gazing stolidly in
its bright embers, was the Indian.

Once high in authority among his tribe Tul-
lona was once loved, revered and honored. In
the discussion around the council-fire the first
voice was his: in the treaty-smoke. Tullona’s
lips first touched. the pipe. But, he had fallen
from his high position, and now was an outcast
from his kindred, a solitary wanderer, making
- his home now in the wilds of the woods, now in
some hidden cave; lost to honor and right, Tul-
lona was a fit tool for any evil.

When the two men, Zarate and Ricovi, en-
tered his tent Tullona gave no indication of his
howled 0 their presence: and, not till Ri-
cov‘l ad him, did he turn his piercing
eyes from the fire to his visitors. ,

“ Chieftain,” said Ricovi, for he knew it would
flutter his vanity to address hl'n thus, “Chief-
tain. the great soldier of P8738301 is here and
wants to say sum’thin’ to ye.

listen?”
This ludicrous intermingling of bad English,

ill the lnjun .

l

, with an attempt at the beautiful Indian lan-

i guage had no effect 11 Tullona other than to
cause his eyes to scare the colonel’s face.

} He looked inquirineg at the ofllcer.

“ Tullona, we came to-night on business of
great im rtance; a mission is to be accom-
plished t t none but a brave warrior can suc-
cessfully perform; and that is why we seek the~~
Indian chief knowing his heart is strong and
his arm unf terin .”

He paused to note the effect of this flattery.
A low “ Ugh ” issued from Tullona’s lips.

“Besides, the man who goes on this mission
must have close lips and a silent tongue; the
Chieftain understands; will he undertake the
task? Gold will be the reward, and a huge skin
of fire-water: much tobacco, too.”

Tullona’s eyes glistened as he spoke.

"Gold, rum, tobacco?” \

“ Yes, all these to the Indian if he consents."

“ And does the soldier want Tullona’s hands
to be dyed in red blood before he can get these
thin l’

“ h, no—no, indeed. There is no murder,
although the warrior chief is brave enough; but
you will need no arrow or un.”

The Indian gazed curious .

In brief words Zarate exp ained the nature of
the mission; told him of the girl he loved, and
of the meeting in the orange 1; icket; instructed
him what he should do and where to take her.

Tullona consented.

“ But the soldier says the forest-maiden has a

my path l”

“ he pale-faced hunter is Julian St. John,
the American.”

Like a sudden flash of midsummer lightning
breakin from a black, heavy cloud, gleamed a ,
fierce, csperate expression upon the stolid
features of the fallen rave. His savage ire was,
amused, and he grasped the handle of his long,
murderous knife. .

“ Julian, eh? Him strong friend to Indians;
Tullona hates his brethren, but Julian is their
friend. The white hunter is a. great brother to
Minoni. The Indian would murder Minoni,
and his friend, the hunter, tool” .

“ Then Tullona will come to the village when .
the sun goes down again, and Ricovi will ao-
company him to the spot.’ -

Consenting willingl , and the bargain closed.
the W0 mi night tors had no further busi-
ness, so they left the deer-skin 1 and
plugged on in best they might through the dark
nl . -

They had ridden but a little distance when
Zarate suddenly drew up his horse.

“Hist, Ricovi; something or some one is
Easily gallowing us; I distinctly hear footsteps.

ls n.

For a moment both strained their ears and 1
eyes to no purpose. 1n the midnight blacknem
not an object was visible, and only the moaning
of the wind disturbed the silence.

“Not’ing there, anyhow,” was Ricovi’l can-
solator reply. .

A be f—hour’s brisk riding brought them to the
edge of the wood, where,  the spur to
their horses, the dashed nto . e _open road.
As they left the growth of thicket behind

 

 

lover; who is he, that I may strike him from ~

THE EBON MASK.

 

. them, Zarate glanced back. The first faint

gleam of gray awn sumced to show afl ure,
silently standing on the extreme edge 0 the
forest; it was a. woman’s form, and clad in som-
ber black. For a moment it stood peering to-
. ward the horsemen; then raising 3. Ion , black-

draped arm, pointed backward in the irection
theyeéiad come; then, as if by magic, disap-
pe'ti‘wenty minutes after the colonel and his at-
tendant flend dismounted at the gates of the
block-house.

CHAPTER VI.

THE LOST MISSIVE.

IT wanted yet but two hours of sunrise; the
storm had 5 nt itself, and the coming day, al-
ready faint y glimmering in a cold, gray east,
gave promise of bri ht sunshine.

Away from the v' age of Pensacola, not more
than a mile, stood the ruins of what was once a
guard-house. The spot was a wild one, and the
remains of the bui ding were hidden from the
glaltlll  by a thick growth of trees and

us es.

It was here, in anxious impatience, that
Julian St. John, the noted hunter, awaited the
coming of Pepe Pinto, whom he had left some
hours before—Pepe to return to Pensacola and
seek Helene; Julian to repair to the ruins,
there to await the messenger who was to bring
a messa e from his lad -love. He was pacing
rapidly iackward and orward, his face betok—
emng his anxiety. In personnel, the hunter
was pleasing. His was an open brow, high,
and, desgite expos e, white and smooth.
Waving air of me ow brown curled down
almost to his neck; and his restless, rovmg eyes,
that could look so tenderly upon the little Sgan-
ish maiden, were beautiful in their clear, eep
azure tint.

“Oh, this life I lead: so hunted and lonely.
What am I that I should bring all this upon
myself? Am I a murderer, with my hands 1m-
bued in a fellow-mortal’s life-blood, that I am
sought for with such vigilance? Am I a con-
vict, eluding the justice of the law, thatI am
driven and hunted? No; only a peaceable,
quiet citizen; and my crime, In awful sin
against the noble authorities of ensacola ls,
I am a rival of the colonel; a successful rival;
and for lovin and bein loved am hunted like
a felon, and ollowed up ike a robber.”

soliloquy was cut short by the entrance
of his memenger. The hunter’s e e brightened,
and he grasped the youth by the d.

“Safe; and Helene, Pepe—she is well and
sends me a m ’

“Yes, well, and sends a love—token. Just
wait a moment and you shall have it; it is
down here.” . _

He unfastened his belt and took it off. First

a one pocket, then in another he searched, but a

0 note made its appearance.
In silence Julian awaited.
‘f Well, now, where did I put it? I am sure it
as in my belt or else— .lge God Julian,
I . in the wazietahmg with , gold ,
‘iWhat if it was. man! Isn’t Justus sate

 

there? But, hasten, I am all impatience to read
1

“Julian, Julian, she is lost—lost, and I am
the cause! 0h, klll me, shoot me, any thing to
punish my foolish carelessness!”

Julian felt a vague terror.

“ What is it, man? Pepe, friend, tell me, tell
me who is lost? For the love of Heaven, what
is the cause of your grief 3”

In words of anguish and remorse, Pepe re-
lated the adventure in the cypress-glade, just
before the storm came up, as he was returning
from the village to rejoin Julian at the ruins;
how he brib the villain by giving him the
pouch of gold, forgetting he had placed the note
there when he started from the maiden’s cot-
ta 6.

“gems;in Julian lifntentiil. d d th

ut, epe, sup os g icovi i carry e
note to Zarate, what harm could it do? The
colonel knows we are lovers, and it can give no
clew to our whereabouts!” ‘

“True—true; but I forgot to tell on what
was in the note. When the lady He ene hand-
ed it to me, she said, ‘Read, Pepe.’ I glanced
over it, and, oh, Julian, that lovm note will, I
fear, be the ruin of the fair glir, unlem we
can avert it. It appointed a ace and hour
for an interview : ‘Midnight, esday—orange
thicket,’ and, Julian, just as sure as Colonel
Zarate sees that note, just so sure will he be
there and abduct her 1’

Pinto groaned aloud, while Julian St. Jobn’l
eyes flashed, and his nostrils quivered in lagony
and deadly hatred, mingled with fear for be-
trothed’s safety.

“And what can we do? We must do some-
thing, and, instantly too, for this is Tuesday,
and to-ni ht, this night, may see her—”

“ Pepe, ’interrupted Julian, his voice strange-
ly tense and low, “Pepe, my friend, my bro-
t er, we must save her. We will, even if our
lives pay the forfeit. Think, and try to discov-
er some feasible plan.” *

In silence the two resumed their walk, and
the sun rose and mounted high in the heavens
ere either spoke; then it was Julian.

“I can conceive no plan save goin boldly to
her cottage. Iknowi will be my oath; but
what is that to—”

“The Forest-Bird’s lover shall not risk his
life. What would the maiden do when the
white hunter died?”

A voice, musical and low startled them, and
in a second a woman, her long, lustrous hair
flowin far below her waist, entered the timbre.-
geous oorway and stood before them.

“Ah, Nina—it was on who sfioke just now?”
h.“]¥es,,’ Nina bade t e white unter not risk

is 1 e.

“ But do you know the lovely forest-maiden’s
life—ay her honor, is in jeopardy, and then tell
me not to risk my poor life?

“I know the night-hawk is about Ito nee
own; I know the one‘ with the eerpen -smile
and the-fascinatin face seeks to destroy the
maiden; but at would commandth
risk not the 'fe-so precious to the bean

daughter of Spain.” I  ht

“Nina,Iamsurprised. sure! M you
loved the Senorita Helene better %au to-J'

 

  

 

" And the hunter—he of the warm heart and
stout arm—he that Nina thought had much rea-
son—thinks that no one else can go and tell the
maiden?"

“True, good woman; many might be sent;
but how can I trust any one for this mission?”

“ Nina is the maiden’s true friend; she will go,
and the Forest-Bird will yet sin in the hunter’s
cabin. Trust the poor, craze wanderer, for
love makes her mind strong, d she can work
wisely. Fear not, lover of the singing-maiden;
but tarry here until I come again, and I will
brin good tidings. Remember that the night-
hau with the hidden claws shall not steal the
son —birdl”

T e m sterious creature walked slowly, and
in di ni ed silence, away.

“ hank God, Pinto—thank God! Helene is
safe—safel”

“What, J ulian—you don’t depend on' that
crazy creature’s words .2”

“As I would u u an angel’s promise! You
don’t know her, ope, but I have often proved
her truthfulness, and many a favor she has
done me.”

“ But who is she?”

“That I know not, for she always goes by the
name of ‘Nina.’ She is a strange. mysterious
creature, but fondly attached to Helene. Her
face I never saw, for you see her long hair falls
nearly over it.”

“And ou really intend trusting ‘Nina,’ as
you call er, and waiting here till she comes
a sin?"

"Indeed, I shall—gladly wait and thankfully
trust.”

CHAPTER VII.
A WARNING.

MADAME VALENCIE and Helene sat together
by the vine-embowered casement that over-
looked the fraglrant little garden, in the midst
of which stoo their humble cottage. Both

were busily engaged in sewing, and as their fin—y

gers were swiftly flying, they conversed:

“ Mamma, it is very strange, isn’t it, that she
should take such an interest in us. What can I
have done?”

“ ‘Us,’ you say. Who? You and I?”

" Oh, no: you know I didn’t mean that. Ju-
lian and ll”

Her pure cheek blushed delicately.

‘ Madame Valencie smiled misch‘avously.

“ Now, mamma, it is too bad in ou to make
sport that way: but then it is nothing but sport
after all. Oh, did you see Pepe Pinto last night
~—or‘rather this morning—when he came? You
surely must have heard him, at any rate.”

“I did hear a slight noise about two o’clock;
was it then?”

I. “ gee; and he brought me a note from Ju-
ian.

“ Julian is safe and well, I hepe? Oh, Helene,
my child, how unfortunate that he should be an
enemy to our commanding authorities here I”

“ But mamma, I don’t understand how, for

rsona reasons, Colonel Zarate can track him

us, andvpublicly hunt him. I know he has

committed no act which justifies such treat-
men .
“ True, child; but you little know the ways of
. \_ _

\x

THE EBON MASK.

l

the world. Senor Zaratc, you know, has com-
plete authority to arrest oth Pepe Pinto and
ulian St. J Olin—one for desertion, the other for

' aiding him; and. in my inmost heart, I believe

the commandante rejoices that he has so plaus-

1 ible an excuse torcapturing the hunter.”

“So do I; and, mark me, mamma, he will

i leave no stone unturned that may lead to his
' arrest."

Madame Valencie sighed, but made no re ly.

“ Mamma,” continued Helene, “it is near y a.
month now, since Julian has dared to be seen
in public; why is this?”

“ Child, you know of Zarate’s jealousy-of his
hatred toward your lover; Julian knows this,
too; and he also knows, as do I, that a secret
foe is more to be feared than an open enemy.
Many are the ways in which the colonel com-
manding might remove his hated rival from his
path; spies, servile to their master; servants
brought from Spain, and accustomed to such
deeds, can be em loyed. Julian knows this,-
and his better ju gment counsels him to use
discretion.”

“ But the villagers know not the cause of his
protracted absence. Of course, they imagine

im on hunting-expeditions, do they not?”

“They may have thought so; but now, on
know, Zarate makes no secret of his intentions
of capturing him on the grounds I mentioned,
and has even sent out squads of men after him.”

“Heaven will preserve him to guard me!”
murmured the fair girl.

“ Let us hope so, at least,” was madame’s fer-
vent assent.

so silent, that her com anion addressed her:
“What 18 it, dang tor, that occupies your
mind?”
“0h, mamma,” burst impetuously from her

for this horrid country? Vere we not appy
there, in our cozy little home? Oh, that we
were back a in!” '

“ And Julian?” softly whispered the lady.

“Truendear mamma; I never would have
known him had we remained there, and 1 am
sure I couldn’t leave him now. But, whydid
we come?” »

“ It was necessary, child.”

Madame Valencie’s tone was chilling, and He-
lene refralned from asking more. Another si-
lence followed. Suddenly the maiden spoke:

“ Mamma, there is one thing- that has often
surprised me; it is this: the unusual love I feel
for that poor unfortunate Nina. It may be pity
,it may be strong friendship; but, whenever I
see her, I can scarcely refrain from throwing
my arms around her and resting my head on
her bosom. Oh, I am sure I do ove her very
much; more than any one!”

“Helene,” said the lady, gazing reprmchfuuy
at the ea er, flushed face of the young girl—
“r’lu chil , more than me?” . d

ere was somet in ine ressibl ten er
Madame Valencie’s tonge.  , 7’"

“Forgive me, dearest mamma, for saying it
How cruel it was in me! More than you? :
if "—her cheeks grew still more scarlet, and h

 

eye brighter“ as if I could love any one a -

Helene leaned her head on her hand and gazed »
out the window; for a long time she remained.

lips, “why did we leave S ain—lovely S ain—~ '

“— Ala...“ ~r(‘- , ..

  
    

-M

 

 

 

 
 

4...,M ~._.,.. .-,.._~

 

L

 

 

THE EBON MASK.

 

than you!
times—~indeed, I cannot he p it, mamma, and
you must forgive me for it—hut when I think of
poor Nina. so lonely and sad, and so beautiful
and learned, my heart goes ri ht out to her in
such great love—a great de strenger than I
ever felt for on!”

She burie her burning cheeks in her hands,
as though she anticipated the lady’s displeasure.

“The lovely flower is bended to the ground
with the dew, but Nina will show a sunbeam
that shall dry the drops, and the maiden’s heart
will be joyful again.” ,

In the doorway, tall and commanding, stood
the wan figure of the wandering Nina; her beau-
tiful tresses falling, as usual, over her face, al-
most concealing the features and completely
disguising the ex ression.

At the sound 0 her voice, Helene and thelady
turned quickly around, the warm blood rushing
to the young girl’s face as she saw the tender

' glance of the lustrous, gentle eyes, so piercingly
dark, yet liquidly sweet.

“Fair maiden, Nina’s heart is made glad toc'
day' and the flower of love is springin up, for
the first time in many years. A 'loug w ile or
Nina has been a wanderer, with no one to ove
her, none to cherish her and comfort her. Once
I—the crazy Nina—had a pleasant home and a
daughter—oh, Forest-Bird, a. darling daughter—
iair as the mom and gentle as a. gazelle. But
she was gone, one day, and the shar sword of
sorrow rent in twain my heart, an my brain

w hot—hotter than fire. Then, poor, lonely
N312). started and determined to find her lost
birdling; but all she found was, one morning,
a little grave in the forest, and they said they

t in little song-bird in there, long ago. So

wan er all over, now; for Nina has no home,
and wants none but the blue heaven, where her
darling is, and the green earth, where they laid
her away.”
The low, musical voice ceased and a great
sob burst from Helen’s bosom. 'adame Valen-
cie smoothed the excited girl’s hair, and, her
eyes dreamily roaming over the roomnthe poor
woman spoke a sin, in the same touching way:

“ The ovely flaw of the forest says she has a
great love for the wanderer. Nina heard her
say it. Nina’s heart springs up fresh and ' oung
again, as in the days when her own babe ay on
her bosom. Will the gentle girl come and let
Nina. kiss her only once, just for the sake of the
lost one?”

With a passionate cry, Helene flew to her and
twining her arms tightly about her, buried her
head in her bosom.

“ Does Nina love in daughter so much, then?”
inquired Madame Va encie, as she gravely noted
their actions. How Helene’s heart beat as she

.listened for the reply, while a vague feeling of
lsloiamething—she knew not what, thrilled through

r. , -

“I do: because she is
was in own lamb. Yes,
,‘orest- y’s true friend.”

A pang of disappointment quivered through

Ieleno’s om, an she resumed her chair by t e
giggiw. The visitor’s awed changed as sud-
,tg . \ '

{sung and tender, as
ina will ever be the

But 1 can’t ex lain it. Oh. some- '

 

" The night-hawk is ready to swoop down up-
on the defenseless birdling." I

“ Wh at—not again i” as {ed senora,who readily
understood the figurative language.

“" Tuesday night,’ ‘midnight,’ the maiden
knows?”

Helene turned in astonishment at the woman’s
words.

“ How did you ascertain that?”

“Aha, Nina found it out! Nina ies when
no one imagines it. But, the Forest- ird must
not 0!”

“ ust not go where? I can not understand.”

It was the senora who spoke.

“ She knows; the lily understands if you do
not. Nina sa , not go!”

“ Whyi—w you tell me?”

“ The white hunter, he of the strong arm and
stout heart, will not come; he knows the dan-
ger, for I told him. [know how the prowling
vulture will wait for the dove. when the inno-
cent bird goes to meet her true love. Nina fol-
lowed his stegs—the steps of the man with the
rare face an serpent tongue, and she heard
them talk; she saw the tent in the woods, and
heard the false men talk. Nina knows, and the
maiden must not—shall not go; but the lover——
just at midnight, when the air is cool and the
moon! is down, so they can not see him—the
lover will here keep his tryst, and fold his love
in his arms." '

,None of the three spoke for a second; then the
woman asked: ‘ ‘ ‘

“ Will she promise not to go?"

Helene hesitated. The weird words held her
in awe, and she feared to doubt them.

“ Does the forest-lily heed Nina’s warning,
and will she give her the promise? Nina must
have a. speedy reply, for she must go‘and tell
the hunter to come here at midnight. He will
ex, ‘lain it all better than Nina can.”

he promise was given, and, laden with the'

message, the strange creature set out on her
toilsome way to the ruins, there to find the two
refu ees.

“ ina wants no than
have delu

her with grateful words. “ Nina

nwas herimperious .
reply, when both Julian and Pinto would.

does her My ' her reward is here,” laying her ‘

hand over her eart. Again, as in the morning,
she quiet! , silentl left them.

The set ing sun, thin the world in a. radiant
array of purple and go] en glory, sunk calmly
into the placid waters of Pensacola Bay; the
warm, lingering brilliancy faded slowly away
over the green savannas, and floated around
the mist-tapped hills; one by one the laughing
stars dimpled forth, and the stately moon rose,
in Silver coolness, from the same waves beneath
which so short a time before, the golden orb of
day had disappeared. For a short time fair
Luna. regaled the earth with her brightest smiles,
then, slowly and peacefully, retired behind the

/

hills. leaving the myriads of twinkling stars I

alone with the night.
It was just at this hour that Julian andm

left their retreat at the ruins, and cauti
pursued the th toward the cottage.

For a ha f—mile thev journeyed in company-

than Pepe. leaving Julian

*0 secede». tum

 

  

12

THE EBON MASK.

 

 

aside into a lay-path, and struck out in an oppo- i Eight, Eng I think it would be better for them
6 )0 0 S 81‘ a once.

site direction. By a circuitous route,
reached a secluded spot, not a quarter of a mile
from the cottage.

This spot was an orange!

Don’t you?”
Zarate consulted his watch. .
“Perhaps they had better be moving; I will

thicket; the place mentioned in the ill-fated 1 tell them.

note as the trysting-place.

his surmises and suspicions concerning Zarate’s
motives were correct. Climbing to the top of a

dense, spreading tree, he found a comfortable 1 long past I sha

place astride two branches, where he prepared
to watch and wait.
Julian, meanwhile, 'ourneyed along unmo-
lested to the cottage of %elene, his heart beating
high with anticipation. Nearly a fortnight had
elapsed since he had seen her, and that
ers, is an age. His footsteps grew quicker and

lighter, and as he reached the cottage, a bright ’ mandaute and De Leon.

light cheered him on to his loved one’s side.

A low knock at the outer door startled the in-
mates. '

“Oh, mamma, it is Julianl” and she flew to
open the door.

A warm, passionate embrace, fond kisses for
Helene. A respectful salute to Senora Valencic,
who in sympathetic remembrance of former
days, when she was in love, discreetly left the
room on some trifling errand, leaving the de-
lighted lovers alone to enjoy their greatest hap-
piness—each other’s congenial society.

CHAPTER VIII.
THE BROKEN 'mrsr.

AT the same moment that Jillian and Pinto
started from the ruins, the former to visit his
lady-love the latter to link in' the orange-
thieket, a party of fourmen sat in the cottage
of Antonlo Zarate, in the upper apartment,
commanding a view‘.of‘ the gay; the same
room- our readers have already ’onceror twice
visited. ' r ' A .

The; rincipal Eersonages were two officers,
array in all t e elegance of full—uniform,
even to the stylish crimson sash of finest silken
texture, and glitterin sword, dangling at their
sides. They were Co one] Zarate and De Leon.

-At a table, on which was a limited quantity
of liquors—just enough not to make the imbi-
bers' drunk, and consequently useless—sat two
men, playing a sum of dice. By each one’s
elbow stood a he f-fllled decanter of the treach-
erous rum; and between almost every “ throw ”
they stopped to quafl a draught of the poison.
One was the part-human, part—fiendish creature,
Ricovi; the other Tullona, the disgraced and
dishonored chief of the Yamassees.

In a'corner of the‘ room leaned two rifles,

 

and at the belts of the players hung long, glit- :
knives; both were attired without much ,

tering
regard to fashion and taste; Ricovi’s suit being

,a simple coat and pants of army brown, dingy

and faded. Tullona, however, with a lingering
love for the olden time when he was one of the

highest in rank among his brother warriors, ’
sti

lpreserved some of the peculiarities of the

- picturesque Indian costume.

And these two perverted imens of hu-

manity were the tools select

man in his dastard work of dishonor and crime.
' “ It lack! but two and a half .hours of mid-

Here it was that 3
Pinto resolved to wait until midnight to see if ‘ table where the Indian sat,

 

1

by a. Christian '

 

 

“Tullona,” said he, crossing the room to the
‘the time is come

for you to start on your/errand of secrecy and
trust. Go now and ere the midnight hour is
Ii expect the brave warrior back.

laden with his prize. Brin the maiden here,
safe and sacred, then shall 1: e promised reward
be Tullona’s.”
Shoulderin

. their arms, Ricovi and his com.
pamon, no

onger the retired, quiet, stolid

to IGV- ! chief, but noisy, talkative and boisterous, start-

ed out, accompanied to the gate by the com-

Into the open roads

they took their way, the dim light from the

stars barely serving to guide them.

“ ”hite man walk first—show Tullona the
way.

“Don’t know the way, eh? Jest foller yer
n0se, an’ ,e’ll come to it I” -

No rep y bein made, and Ricovi not k-
ing, the two wa ed on until they reache the
margin of the woods. Here they paused and
looked carefully about them.

“ This place,” grunted Ricovi.
yere- I show ye.”

“Mona needs no showing. He is at home
in the great woods. The brown-face isa fool
not to know that.”

“ Who says ’Covy’s fool? In ‘un rascal?”

Tullona turned upon him, an raised his knife
warningly. ’
“ ,;he brown-face must keep a civil tongue,
or—

Ricovi followed the gleam of his flashing orbs,
and they rested on the glittering knife-blade.

By this time the two marauders had penetra-
ted into the wood a good distance, and were
now so near the orange thicket that the sound
of their footsteps crushing the twigs and snap-
ping the low ushes was distinctly audible to
the ear of the hidden spy, Pepe Pinto, ’way up
on his leafy perch.

From his perch he listened to the approach of
Tullona and Ricovi. Not long did he wait for
them, for a few seconds after, they entered the
thicket. He recognized Ricovi’s voice. ,

“ Not been here yet; not time for, half-hour.
Come, Injun, we’ll hide, then catch ’er when is
going back. Here.”

“ Tullona can flndaa place without the brown-
face’s help. Tullona. Will sit here.” ,

v In grim (finish be seated himself upon the
rass behin a. thick tuft of o ooms.
icovi, meanwhile, had discovered a rather low

trt\n._iu which he climbed.

With stoical atienoe the two abductor-s.
waited the hour 0 twelve—long past that time,
imd still they waited; but no maiden, and. no
over.

Until the first taint tracings of dawn were
visible they set; then, in disappointed ill—humor
retraced t e way to their master.

Pepe Pinto, too, when they were gone. came
down from his perch, full convincedpf Zarate’s
desperate designs. He ouldered his rate. and -

’ “Come in

 
  

  

 

  

 

  

ma EBON MASK. ' 13

 

lunging into the woods, as ret sr‘arooly lighted i “ You may go,” he said, abruptly, to the men

y the first rays of coming ay, returned to the
hidden covert, the retreat in the woods, of him-
self and Julian St. John.

CHAPTER IX.
THE EBON MASK.

IT was about two o’clock in the morning, and
the two friends, De Leon and Zarate, sat in
their room smoking their cigais, and awaiting
the return of the men dispatched on their er-
rand of crime.

“ I wonder what detains them' it is long past
midnight now; surely they should be back by
this time.”

“Hardly, I think,” remarked De Leon, tap-
ping his (:11ng against the window to remove the
ashes. “ member. the girl was not to be
there before midnight; and two hours—for it is
scarcely more than that —are a short time to ac-
com lish such an errand.”
“ "on are right, but I do wish they would re-
turn.

“By the by, comrade, did you know she re-
SlellnllblSS that Spanish lady of yours most fear-
f y? ,

“Pshaw, De Leon: you are possessed about
her. Why, man, isn’t it perfectl natural that
these two, Helene and Isabella, th bein na-
tives of the same sunny land, and even th
born on the same beauteous river-bank, the
famed Gaudalquivir, should possess the same
general ressmblance?”

“Granted; but Antonio, the resemblance is
more than general, it is xparticular; strikingly
so. Heigh-ho, what o’cloc might it be? Three,
and nearly dawn, as I live!”

“Andi: ey not back with her yet! By St.
Genevieve, comrade, what can have happened
to detain them?”

A reply was prevented by the sudden en-
trance of the two men, Tullona and Ricovi. The
cologol sprung to their side, and in eager tones
crle :'

“ Helene, the lady—where is she?”

De Leon’s quicker e 9 had noticed the disap-
pointment and morti cation depicted on the

aces of the unsuccessful messengers, and at a.
glance divined the state of affairs.

The Yamassee replied to Zarate’s question.

“Np, lady; the midnight meeting was not

“ What, you have not brought her?”

“ Could ullona. bring what was not tobe
brought?“

His voice betrayed shglht anger.

“ Ricovi, what is it? ell me; did not Helene
and the hunter come to the orange-thicket?”

“No; ’Covy and Injun waited long, but no
lovers; guess deserter Pinto tell hunter not
come.’

“Sure enough; of course, colonel, some one
must have warned them; but, it is aggravating

, to think that all this time spent inwaiting by

us, has mostprobably been occupied b the
lovers in each other’s presence; for, mar me,

‘ Antonio, they would scarcely be cheated out of

this interview, and to lovers, you know, one
place has good as another.”

A frown settled on the bafled villain’s face,
and a scowl darkened his countenance. .

    

 

in waiting. “Ricovi, take. 'l‘ullonn to the ser-
reant’s quarters, unthyou will find plenty of
i uor; here is the money. Now go.”

triding angrily up and down the room his
disappointed villuiny plainly visible in his face,
and scarce able to repress his intense rage,
the commandante looked more a fiend than a
man.

“Curses on the fellow!” burst from his com-
pressed lips.

“ Who—Julian St. J ohn?” carelemly inquired
De Leon.

“Yes, Julian St. John. But for him—ah,
when I once lay hands on him ’twillbe to hang
him high as Human!”

“So would I. colonel.” assented De. Leon,
consolingly. “ But I must leave you, man
amigo ; ’tis dawn and no sleep has visited my
eyes for many hours. So, buenas ’noches.”

Left to his own reflections, Zarate felt any
thing but comfortable, and for a few moments
paced the floor in angry excitement. Thron h
the window faintly stole the very earliest strea s
of dawn, so faint that objects in the room were
undistinguishable. Taming aside his nearly
consumed cigar, and removin the superfluous
military sword, sash and coat, t e commandante
wra ped a blanket about him, and lay down up-
on t e floor to secure, if possible, some sleep, ere
the duties of the day began.

He had lain but a. few moments when the door
quietly but softly opened, and a figure draped
in unrelieved black, entered the room. Closin
the door, it advanced toward the officer, an
when near the center of the apartment stopped
and stood in awful dignity.

Zarate sprung to his feet, and, spell-bound
with surprise, not to say fear, gazed at the
mysterious figure.

“Colonel Zarate," came in full, melodious
tones from the draped form, “ who and what I
am you.know not. 1 come on an errand of
mercy, and shall not retire till I accomplish my
business. Listen. Last night an attempt was
made by 1you to carry away from a loved mother
and a easant home. to dishonor and corrup-
tion, a air girl, the pride of her friends, the idol
of a true, noble lover. Through to agency
she escaped her doom: I it was w o heard
through an indirect way of your plans; I, whom
you fancied you heard in the forest when you
were returning from our diabolical errand;
and I, too, ‘Leota of t e Ebon Mask.’ am she
whom an saw on the edge of the woods.” r

The ady aaused, but remained motionless as
a statue. atheriug courage from her very
human style of address and refined lan age—-
for Zarate had at first thought her a b ack de—
mon—the astonished man replied: r

“Well, woman, whoever and whatever you
are, what business have you here at this time,
and ip an oflioer’s private apartment? Be
gone!

“ Be courteou, senor; remember you ad-
dress a lady; and you know, for gallantry, the
colonel commanding rofesses to have no equal.
although he seems to ave forfiten that fact.”

“Silence. Your story of a noting a ‘fair
girl’ as you say, is a base fabrication, without I
foundation or truth—a foul lie, by whom, or

  

\

‘ weeds and poisonous shiu

‘ rifle

u ‘ THE EBON MASK.

 

for what puiipose invent I know or care not.
So, woman,
lance instantly, with your masked face. ”

demand the you leave my pre- , _ _ _
.upright sticks, wlnc

“ Leota obeys; but before I accept your polite  , ,
z inn, were the remains of a Simple meal,

invitation, listen.”

She glided forward and placing her mouth to- l _
' ‘ retreat was mha

his ear, uttered in distinct tones the single

word.
“Isabella I”
it Pale and trembling, the commandante heard

“ Surely, senor, your memory is not so treach-

' erouxs as to forget your wife, whom years ago

you left alone, weeping and mourning for a mis-

creant husband, on the banks of the beauteous ,

Gaudalquivir? Ah, I see you do remember;
and, senor, by the memory you entertain of that
injured wife, b the terror you now feel, the
fear from whic you can not flee, I command
you to desist in your attempt u on the MIR»:
ness, safety and honor of Helene alencie.
member, at your peril you disobey me; and
know, too, the time will come when Isabella
shall be avenged l"

The graceful figure quietly withdrew, leavin
the bewildered soldier in an agony of terror an
rage. And “Leota, of the Ebon Mask” disap
peared as mysteriously as she came.

~—

CHAPTER 3.
ran STRUGGLE.

Two miles south of the village of Pensacola,
and half a mile east of the road that leads to
the bay, are two adjacont bodies of water, the
former lying immediately south of the latter,
with which it forms a ccmmunlcation at high

de.

Between these two bayous or ponds extends
a marsh, low and swampy, filled with noxiom

s; one of the many

such spots so frequently found in the wilds ol
Florida. 0n the west of this almost wholly
impassable marsh, there juts forward anarrow
neck of land: to the south it runs of! into n
series of small rocks, sharp and irregular, before
which and hiding them is a dense mass of trees
-—dark, gloomy cypresses—whose dismal shade
renders the spot trebly wild and lonely.

Following the narrow, rocky path, bordered
on one side by the marsh, and en the other by
ledge upon ledge of sharp recipitous crags, for
the distance of one hun red yards, 9. large
cavern is found, formed hv the overhanging
clifl's.‘ ’ _ \

’Enteringthe cavern, and approaching the

other extremity, the space gradually narrowed'

until, after a distance of thirty or forty feet, the
cold, stony sides of the cavern almost touched
each other. But this was not the end; for,
aftera narrow passage of some tm or twelve
yards between the scarcely-dividcd rocks, the
wallesuddenly diverged, and another cavern,
about half the size of the first, opened to the
view. Upon the floor of this rearmost cave
were spread blankets and strips of coarse mats
upon the sharp, projecting spun: of rock, all
around the sides hung various articles—knives,
skins clot ing and dried meats. Alonzo
skin- g. filled with water. stood in one corner

 

of the apartment, and near bg on a rude table.
constructed by layin a mug hoard across two
were insecurel thrust
into two chance crevices in the irregu ar floorh

Evidently, then this apparently inaccessible

hited, and by human beings
and civilized. Even so; this wild, solitary 0t
was the home and retreat of the hunter and is
friend. Julian St. John and Pepe Pinto abode

together there—lived in security, foww knew «

of the place—so few that it was en "er for-
gotten.

From the brow of this mighty natural pile . -I
rocks, screened on the one hand by the dense
foliage of overhanging trees, on the other by
the high vertical projection of the same cavern
that afforded them a shelter, Pepe watched the
coming of Julian. Nearly two hours had
elapse since the hunter had been gone and his

romise was to return ere nightfall. That hour
ad come and almost passed, and the dark oven-
ing shades were gathering closer and denser.

“I wonder what can detain him? Heaven
guard him safely back.”

A low crushing through the bushes caught his
attentive ear, and be grasped his rifle tightly.
Peering cautiously around, he endeavored to
discover the cause but was unable. Suddenly,
however, a dark, heautiful face shone through
the thicket.

Pinto raised his rifle. .

“Who comes! A friend? If not, I fire!”

The figure came slowly into view. -

“ The white hunter’s friend would shoot. poor
Nina?” ’

“Never, my good woman; but one must be
cautious, you know.” .

“ You, one must be nary cautious. The white
hunter’s steps are traced, Nina says; and unless
he heads the warning he will step into a pitfall.
Where did the lover go?”

“Iknow not; he left the cavern some time

ago, promising to return before dusk; but he

has not, you see.” -

The mournful eyes searched Pinto’s face.

“23in the hunter’s friend tell him what Nina
es s V

Z Of course; and were he only here now to
hear it for himself, l’d be glad."

“ Do not forget; Nina. will come again.”

Another hour of apprehensive anxiety, and
then came the turd ulian.

“Why, what co cl detain—”

Pepe suddenly stopped, staring in amazement
at the hunter’s face. .

“St. Genevieve, what is the matter? Speak,
tell me l” .

Punting and excited, agitated and exhausted,
Julian could only oint to the woods below;

“ Well. what? he Senorita Helene is safe,
is she not? but we are in danger, for crazy Nina
was just here and compelled me to promise I
would repeat her message—that we were traced,
or rather you were. But, Julian, I treated it as
an idle alarm, yet your face, your agitation—
can it be truel’ -

“ Even so; and. at this moment they are on the

trail.”

“And the onl way to escape from this place

is down the pat by which you came, and that

an.-. ._ amt- we... ....; a a

     
      
    
 
  
   
   
   
   
  
   
 
    
  
   
 
   
  
 
 
  
   
  
   
  
 
 
      
 
   
   
    
  
  
  

A, -9. ".7- ..

   

 

 

- THE EBON MASK. ' 15

 

Hill, lead us to them. What do you propose to
01

“Nothing, but resist to the last,” responded
Julian, his eye gleaming ominously, and '
voice low and thrilling.

“ But,” queried Pepe, anxious to catch at any
straw, “are you sure of it?”

“ Of what?’

“That they are on the trail; who told you?”

“My truest friend—one who has never yet
failed to give me warning.”

“ I don t understand.”

“The forest wanderer, poor crazed Nina.”

“But, how does she le‘arn ever thing?"

“ Ah, that I know not, indeed; often wonder.
I can not solve the mystery, that, to me, always
involves her.”

“I sup ose she is a sort of harmless lunatic,
sufficient y cunning to elude danger, and equally
alert in learning news.”

“May be so. But, Pepe let us waste no

'101’8 time, but prepare for the defense. To at-

'wlpt to leave would be madness. We have
one advantage over our enemies, a knowled e
of the grounds, which to them must be entire y
strange.”

Carefully examining their trusty rifles, and
looking to the pistols in their belts, each grasped
a knife, and silently awaited the coming of the
enemy. A wild shout arrested their attention,
and, glancing uickly up. they perceived the
faces of half a ozen men half-way up the nar-
row path. The foremost one was scarce five
yards from the spot occupied by the refugees;
and, as his tail figure slowly advanced, they
recognized the Indian, Tullona. ,

Julian saw that dull gleam in Tullona’s eye
and he knew its meaning. Compreming his lips
still more tightly, he exclaimed:

“Back, or I fire! Not a man passes that
spot." The hunter’s voice was loud and his face
determined. 1

Still the tall form of the Indian remained in
the same ition; his faded plumes nodding in
the twilig t, and the hand rasping a hatchet.

“Back!” again shouted ulian. ‘

A second, and the sharp crack of his rifle
resounded and reéchoed among the rocks; the
helmet of feathers rolled down, and convulsiver
throwing up his arm, the Indian fell, with a
dull, rushing sound, down the descent, striking
the stagnant l with a low, dull thud.

His comr es uttered a cry of terror and
those who had followed him to the top of the
path ran back hiding behind the ledges.

“éave your bullets, Pepe; there are but two
loads apiece, you know, and there are six yet to

r

“Tullona has gone to his ion rest, Julian,
tlmuksto our unerring aim. there is a
head— A l he ducked before I could fire.”

For a moment no one moved or spoke, be-
siegers or besieged; then a movement was visi-

' ble among the soldiers. Cautiously changing

their positions they gradually moved nearer to-
gether until the entire squad six in number,
werein quite a solid body. .‘Iuiian and Fe

could not fire, as they dared not approach t e
ledge, thereby losing command 0 the deflle

—thi;ough which but half their number could

L...‘.- passed atoms.

The hunter was eager! scanning the hanging
.cliff of rocks; a sudden t ought struck'him.

“ Heavens, Pepe, if these ragamuflins should
discOVer that they can scale the shelves, we are
lost! Don’t you see? they are entirely hidden,
and unperceived could easily climb to the top
and burst in upon us, while the other three can
enter by the path!”

Pinto’s e es scanned the cliff. It was even as

Julian sai ; should they discover their advan-_

tage, to surrender would be the only alterna-
tive—or death.

“Let us hope for the best; but, Pepe, should
I fall and you escape, go to Helene and tell her
all. If you are the Victim, what shall I do? any
thing you $3. . But if both—”

A wild ye l interrupted him, and ere he was »

well aware of their intentions, the space in front
of them was filled with soldiers!

Half had Scaled the projectin rocks, and‘,
skulking behind them, had waite till the re-
maining three crawled up the path, then, in
concert, they jumped, yelling and shouting,
upon the prisoners.

“Surrender, surrender!” yelled the sergeant,
“and your lives are safe.” ,

,“Never, while a shot remains! Fire Pepe 1”

Two of them bit the dust, and both t e rifles
were raised again, when an expert blow knocked
them aside, discharging their contents wide of
the mark. Two strong arms felled J ul‘an to the
ground, and he was defenseless—a runner in
the hands of his foes.

Vainly trying to rush to his comrade’s aid,
Pinto beat back the soldiers with his knife.

“Escape. escape, if you can,” shouted Julian.

Snatching his unloaded rifle with one hand,
and brandishing his knife in the other, Pepe
leaped for the opening. A brawny arm inter-
cepted him, and a violent grasp on the wrist
detained him a second, but on] a second.
Wrenching his arm free by a mig ty effort, he
struck at the man with his knife, and (plan ing
through the entrance, ran, shoutin an el
down the dangerous pass, leaping rom edge to
ledge, while the bullets of the enraged soldiers
——the two who were not holding Julian down—
whistlerl against the cliffs and rebounded down
the \i‘ocky chasm.

 

CHAPTER XI.
’ AT LAST. /
NEARLY two weeks have passed since the
night of the attempted. but fortunately unsuc-
cessful abduction of Helene Valencia; a fort-
night since the mysterious “Ebon Mask” had
caused such a strange disturbance in the com-

l

V

mandante's mind; two weeks of planning and

plotting, of scheming and devismg.

Stratagem upon stratagem had been concocted
only‘to he rejected, and Zarate was at len
compelled to renounce as ho eless the possessfion
of the treasure he so covets . ‘

“But it is only for the present, mind yo De
Leon, that I thus desist. After a time I 1shall

try differently. Meanwhile, I do not intend I

bein lazy.”

 

“ We on the carpet now?” inquired 1111 'l

charmingly indiifereut companion. ‘

r

 

 

 

  
  



‘ .

.L,

I warrant he doesn
01.26;?th ’ 1 ds d

y quite a pay upon wor my ear
Antonio; it would take one more obtuse than I
not to at once perceive our meaning.”

set foot upon carpet very

“A truce to jokin , e Leon; I have good i

news to tell you; tidings that will surprise and
deli ht you. ’

“ hat? ,Do be quick, for I am all impa‘
tience.”

“De Leon, we’ve tracked our noble lover to
his haunt, and even now a squad of men are on
the trail." , I

“You don’t say it! Surely, that is splendid
news. But how, and why, and when, and
where?”

“How, why, when, and where?” repeated
Zerate, bewildered.

His companion laughed long and heartily.

“I don‘t wonder at your astonishment, really,
for my question was ambiguous, not to say
confounding. But, let me speak more plainly,
and ask one question at a time. First, then,
you say you learned his retreat—how was that
accomplished?”

“ Through the agency of Ricovi and Tullona,
who nce their previous failure, have been un-
remitting in their efforts—thanks to their for-
mer mortiflcation and my strong whisky.”

“Good; now when shall you capture him!
But, I for 0t, probably he is in durance this
moment. on say you sent a party out—
when!”

“This noon: the cave where he hides is full
two miles from here, and the men re uired time
for a reconnaissance, ou know. ‘hey were
under the command of llona.”

“ I should judge it was time they were back;
would not you?

“Half-past eight; well, yes; but I shall not

them till nine.”
e two officers leaned lazily back, pufling
their cigars.

“This will be quite a feather in your cap,
Antonio—arresting the deserter and an accent
plice, too.”

De Leon’s black eyes twinkled sarcasticall .

“I understand, though; between you an I,
I must confess the deserter’s escape would affect

- me but little. But it’s a cover—a good cover,

you know, this vigilant searching after one of
my soldiers; it looks just about right, too; and
the people all agree with me in regarding the
hunter as criminal in aiding a soldier to escape
from his majesty’s service, as said soldier is
cufble in deserting from the army.»
gain a short pause, disturbed only by the

puifing of the fragrant cigars.

“Zarate, do you recollect the last time we
eat here together, waitin the return of Tullona
and Ricovi with the love y Helene?”

“Remember, eh? I guess my memory is,

capable of recalling so recent an event. Perdi-
tion but that was a. confounded failure.”
“Just so, and I couldn’t help wondering

, whether this expedition would rova as futile.

“ Never by my mother, or ’11 shoot every
man I sent!”
“Nonsense, colonel: of course it wouldn’t be

THE EBON MASK.

' V I
“ ‘Who’s on the grass' you’d better say; for
t

  

gill 1);,ng him. I only thought, what if he isn’t
ere

~ “I don’t apprehend a failure at all, and, to
tell the truth, am too desirous of securing him
to allow myself to think of such a result. If I
can’t have the lady, I am determined to punish
her b securing the lover.”

“ an’t have the lady, Antonio?” ‘

“Well—that is—I hardly think I shall ven‘
ture soon again; in fact, I rather guess I won’t.
Some few events have transpired rendering it a
little inadvisable.”

“ So? Inform me, do.”

Zarate hesitated a moment.

“ Really, De Leon, Imeant nothing; of couru
I can have the girl by resorting to unfair means;
but, for the present, I prefer tormenting her a
little by keeping the fool of a boy—that Julian
—in one of our strongholds down there in the
guard-house.”

“ Hark!” said De Leon, assuming a listening
attitude.

A noise, as of the tread of many feet, was
distinctly heard outside.

“It is they! and— Yes, by St. Genevieve,
man, they have at him !"

The men gaze eagerly out of the window.
Truly, there was the hunter, at last, securer
bound, a captive in their midst, subject tothe
commandante’s pleasure.

“ Bring them up,” he shouted to the sergeant.

A hurried movement. then their feet were
heard on the stairs: the dooi opened and Julian
St. John and the Spanish officer stood face to

face.
“ And Pinto—where is he?” he demanded of
the sergeant. .
th‘fiascaped, senor, and fled, I know not whi-
er. ,
Zarate’s eyes darkened, as if in displeasure.

“ You may return to your quarters; you and

your men.”

Profound silence reigned in the room, un-
broken even by the low murmur of the breeze.
His feet fastened by a chain, and his arms
tightly bound, Julian stood proudly defiant, his
handsome face blazing with scorn. _

“ Well, sir, I suppose you perceive you are in
my war at last? ’

“ n your presence, Colonel Zarate, but in
your power—N0 I” replied Julian, fixing his eyes
on the colonel’s face. . _

The oflicer smiled, and pointed Significantly to
the chains.

“These matter little to me!” returned St.
John. “And, bound and fettered though I be,
'I ask no favors of on or any one in your ser-
vice. If you 'thin to intimidate me with
words, you are mistaken; for I scorn you and
your ower.”

J ulian’s eggs flashed, n n his rival.

“Peace, y; remem 1- who you are, and
what I am; 'ust—”

“ Pray, w t are (you, but a contemptible
specimen of de rave humanity?” burst forth
from the hunter 5 li , with all the impetuosity

of his nature. “ ‘ o are ou, indeed, that ,

 

*1 girl, that you may compel a love

send your spies out after a y, a lgirlie-minded
w oh you can
not win? You, wh

o—
flm’r fault. for I’ll warrant it he is there. they ! Fired with fearful rage. Zarate strode across

 

 

as», ‘xi .2. 

g

? soldiers his shout of defiance.

the room, and with the n it of his sword struck i A short time brought him to

J uliau a blow, bringing his words abruptly to a

ose.

“Hold, Zaratel You are hasty——that is un--
kind,” interposed De Leon, who had remained a
silent spectator of the scene.

For a half-second Julian’s self~control well-
nigh deserted him; then, with a might effort,
he calmed his rage. " Pitil’ul coward i” said he
to the colonel. “ I can forgive that blow of one
who so far forgets his manhood as to strike a
defenseless prisoner.”

“You dare call me a coward, ‘you dog of an
American? But your pretende courage will
be brought low; remember, Julian St. John,
there are deep, dangerous and gloomy cells
where such as you are confined.”

“ The heart of the hunter—the heart Helene
holds—never yet pulsated with fear.”

spasm of rage crossed Zarate’s countenance.

“Proudly spoken, but it avails not. You are

a risoner. ’
ummonin a guard, Julian was led away;
and the first awn of morning’s light found him

_ securely fettered in a filthy cell in the guard-

house, with the allowance of must bread and
unpalatable water standing all un ouchecl and
unnoticed, where it had been placed.

 

CHAPTER XII.
'rnn CAGED Bran.

RAPIDLY as a young deer, lightly as the nim-
ble-footed chamois leaps over its native hills,
Pepe Pinto sprung from cliif to clifl’, from ledge
to ledge of that wild descent, stopping for
naught but to yell back upon the ears of the
Fast as the gath-

e ' darkness would allow, he sped along

4 throu h the dark aisles of the forest, crashing,

in his aste, among the tangled bushwood; now
upon open ground now over the marshy brook,
then over the roadside. Here he slackened his
slpeed somewhat, but only to rest a moment.
ightening the belt around his waist, and
Lwipin the dropping perspiration from his
heats face, he again at orth all his speed,
hastening toward the v1 legs of Pensacola.
He had completed about alf his journey and
as hurrying along beside the edge of a. dense
ood, when he was suddenly accosted by a wo-
m arrayed in robes of midnight blackness.
er tones were polite and courteous, and her
\ ressions refined and intelligent.
‘ Senor may a stranger inquire your haste?
et hardly a stranger ; for, if I mistake not,
- are a friend of the lady Helene, and her
‘ends I call not strangers, but brothers.”
“Then. you can surely up reciate my haste;
I go to hear her bad ti ings—sad news of
lover, the brave Julian, who is. this mo~
t t, a prisonerin the hands of Colonel Zarate’s
- ers.
‘41 prisoner? impossible! Then I will not
: I on longer: but bid her be of good
- ,, or, under God’s blessing, all shall be

.9 turned aside to let him pass. Respect-
i raising the gloved hand to his lips, he
ed and again pursuedhis way.

 
   
   
 
  
  
 
 
    

 

, m neon MASK. >

 

1?

the end of his
'ourney, and his message to Helene filled her
eart with terror and grief.
“ Oh, Pinto, you "are swre they overpoWered
him! you are confident he did not escape?” she

im‘portuned.
I saw him in the hands

Positive, my lady.
of his captors.”

The tears fell upon Helene’s fair cheek as she
thou ht of his fate.

“ epe,” she said, vehemently, “ we must re-
lease him; it must be done. Julian St. John
shall not languish in the prison ceil‘while I pos-
sess life and will.”

“ Gladly, lady fair, would I aid you, and even
go alone to rescue him. Only tell me how."

Helene remained in perfect silence.

“ Pepe, I must 0 and intercede for him who
is dearer than 1i e to me. Yes, I must, l will
go, and if Colonel Zarate is human, he cannot
refuse my prayers. I have decided; and ere to-
morrow’s sun goes down, I shall have presented
my Eftition.”

‘ v dear lady, do not! I implore you de-
sist. Indeed, you risk your life—ay, ardon
me, my dear lady, but you risk more! olonel
Zarate is a man of whom you know little; of
whom I know much. Therefore, I beseech you
lady, by the love you bear Julian, by the re a
you entertain for your unworthy friend, re rain
from so rash an act.”

Tlhedlady’s face reddened as she listened and
re 1e : ’

‘Thanks, many, many thanks, dear Pepe.
But I must go, my friend, trusting in God to
protect me.”

“Then, lady, I bid you adieu. My errand is
accomplished, my messa e delivered.‘ I shall
return to the forest unti [can learn what had
best be done. Farewell, dear lady, and may
Heaven’s purest spirits attend and on.

Shouldering his hea rifle, he is the lonely
cottage in the orange ower and returned to
his lonesome haunts, in the siient depths of the

w .

Slowlyr and tediously passed the hours to the
almost distracted girl, who. ciug her chamber
floor, wept and prayed. he morning came
and with it rose the sun whose setting should
witness the success or failure of her mission. '

The morning1 hours s 611 by, and the midday
sun shone big in the eavens, and completed
half his downward course, ere Helene started to
the colonel’s resence. ,

She reach the cottage on the bay shore, and
tremblingly entered the widely-opened door.
or a soldier lounging near she inquired for
Colonel Zarate.

“ He is here, signora, in his room. Be seated
and I will tell him.”

“ Say that Senora Helene Valencia desires an.
dience,” she directed.

In a moment he returned. -

“Please to follow me. The colonel is alone
and will see you.”

Almost apprehensiver she followed, and was
conducted to his—the viilain’s—presence. The
soldier withdrew, carefully closing the door,
leaving the two, purity an vileness, innocence
and guilt, alone. ‘

 

  

The officer arose, well knowing the reason of ‘ lady, if I were in his place, would you thus

her coming, but he determined to assume a bold
demeanor, as though friendship’s silken tie
united them. Deferentially he advanced, and

extending his hand with friendly nonchalance ;

said.

“Trul , fair lady, I am si ally honored.
'Can it possible I see you
senses deceive me?”

Calmly and firmly she refused his oifered
hand, and then drew back, removing from her
face her vail.

“Why, what does this mean?” he inquired,
in a well»simulated tone of honest surprise.

“ I wonder, sir, that my presence here at this
particular time is not suflicient explanation,”
said Helene, with guiet dignity.

“True, by St. ‘enevieve,” replied the com-
mandante, with a sarcastic voice. “Truly, I
had nearly forgotten, in my delight at seeing
you, the probable reason why you thus honor
me; had well-nigh forgotten that—J

“That Helene Valencie came to plead for one
you hold captivebcame to implore you by all
you hold dear and sacred, to remove the awful
weight of sorrow and agony pressing on my
heart, while he, my loved one, is a captive and
uncured for!”

She had advanced a ste nearer to him, in her
enthusiasm; her beautifu black eyes, bri hter
than the most lustrous ebony, were su used
with tears; the smooth, polished check first
glowed, then paled with emotion; and Zarate,
as he gazed upon the lovely features of the
noble girl, felt the baleful flame warming in his
heart and bubbling up in hot streams till his
brain was turned‘ and, despite the warning of
“Leota, of the sum Mask,” which, till now,
he had under a vague fear regarded, he deter-
mined to assess this beautiful maiden.

“ Oh, elene, my beautiful birdl” was his
only response to her petition, as he reached out
his arm, his handsome e es subdued and tender,
dreamy in the passion at filled them.

With a low, frightened cry she sprung back,
and an awful chill curdled her heart.

“I mi ht have known, oh, 1 might have
known! eaven preserve me!”

She did not speak, only thought it, and stood
with veiled gee, apart from the man. V

“Helene, elene, my onl love, listen. When
I, spoke those bitter wor s that ni ht I dis-
covered my servant at your cottage, was mad,
crazed, to have used such words to you, my
fragile ,beaut . But, oh, oh, Helene, lovely
daughter of pain, you do not, can not under-
stand the great, the mighty love I bear i’or you.
Oh, lady, angel star, I would not hurt one beau-
tiful curl of your shapely head: I would be
calm, respectful; but can you behold my pas-
sionate love, and feel no returning, responsive
afieotionl”

She remained . rfectly quiet a moment, then
sudden] broke orth:

“An when I plead for one whom I love,
even as you profess to regard me, will you turn
a. deaf ear to my entreaties?” »

"But it is because I love you, adore you,
Helene, and cannot, will not suffer myself to
Oh. answer me.‘

think of you as another’s.

THE EBON MASK.

ere, or do my »

 

‘ a moment to reflect upon the answer.

  

 

plead for me?"

“ Ah, then ” returned she quickly, “you admit
he is here, which you pretended not to know 1”

He hit his lip in provoked silence, and paused
Then he
renewed his im ortunate entreaties, until, tired ;
and disgusted elene replied: I

“Your conduct and Ian uage, Colonel Zarate, ;
are distasteful to me, and command you to de- 1
sist. I do not love you, which you well know;

and, sooner than marry one who can do as you . c
are doing and have done, I’d thrust my hand 1:]
in the fire till it should consume to ashesl”-—in a]
a tone of unflinching firmness. I

That reply aroused the latent devil in the
Spaniard's soul, and in a paralysis of furious In
rage, he stood, powerless to move, glaring upon tn
her with all the fiendishness of. a demon. da

“Very well, girl; and just in proportion fac
as you despise my love, you shall feel my the

powerl” ‘1

She shuddered, but firmly replied, in a, low, Nin
undisturbed voice: , you
“ Sir, I can pity you, who threaten a. woman. It
But let me assure you that, even as I despise in h
your love, do I defy your ower.” “.
“ Do you pretend to a use my authority— quin
me p» u 1
“ As the commander of the post you certain- brig]
ly are in possession, and, perhaps, further. nbe f
uh I do, most emphatically, deny your author- ed to
ity in daring to coerce me in any possible we. ; Nin
and I doubt, also, the expediency of your e— moun
taining your prisoner—Julian St. John, upon ove.
grounds you know are false!” “ H,
There was a gleam in her eye, but she seemed Sister’s
unmoved. “Ye,
“ Again, sir, I demand—will you release ‘ it is 1
him?” the 'da
“Never, unless——” Wanda;
“ What?” she eagerly inquired. angels
“You promise to become m wife.” brance
Her face grew ashen pale, w ile he continued: The 3
“Consent, and he is free within the hour; “Nm
refuse, and you leave not this house till you are “ Har
mfiwife. We will see what force can do.” The in
elene drew her slight form proudly up, and “i he
regarded him with a. look of ineifable scorn. me.
"Sir, I know not what you intend to do, nor ’ “ “ Foot;
what you expect of me ,' but this I do know, and ’ ' Helene

can say, that you,.nor any mortal on this earth » Was laid
can compel me to be your wife! Sooner than ‘i 1 ins, bu:

that, I would die!” 1‘ 5 1th the;

“ Indeed!” and advancing a step he reached‘ )s, as 51
forth to catch her. But he had miscaloulnted. om Ric,
his distance; she had waited for this, and stoop-i k'ong as ;

ing, like a spirit she glided under his arm, un-3 rKier it.
latched the door an noiselessly and rapidly “What,
glided out of the house. 1 tol‘No; m
For a single second Zarate stood, a. statue or home not
thwarted passion and rage. His face was,livid3 111‘ -’ 01’], no,
his eyes wild, and he reached idl out as itsolmlder."
clutc ing after her. For a secon he stooc“ ’ Be keel
speechless, silent; then, as the slight form glide: dot, not to 1
past the window, volition returned and his fer:c e; was a, h
tile brain commenced plotting. ' W783? ' human
“Ho, there, boy, send Ricovi hither install 8had so, a;
ly.-« Instantly, d‘ie hear?" he shouted to son( lllth, 5h. .
one underneath t e window; and. ere the COI‘bOWinedi '1

Jewel”

  

 

him

THE EBON MASK. is '
mend had left his lips, Ricovi stood before "Dun’no nothin’ ’bout it, a]; on] we must
obey orders. Be stiddy on come ong quiet-

“ There, d’yo see that girl, Helene Valencie,
{lust entering the myrtle avenue? ,‘Well, follow
or, and when she reaches the furthest art,
overpower her and bring her back to me. ome
in the back way and avoid disturbance. Take
a trust comrade, and make no delay for the
sun is own and the road lonely for a distance.
Heston, and you shall be well rewarded.”
Chafin like a caged tiger, he dispatched Ri-
, covi, an watched him and a companion enter
the avenue. Leaving him to his not over-agree
able thoughts, we return to Helene.

“Safe, safe, thank God, but what a risk!”
murmured the trembling girl, as she emerged
from the inclosure surrounding the comman-
dante’s cottage. She drew her vail over her

, face, and walked _ uietly on. until she entered
, the fragrant myrt epath.
“Bir of the Forest, it has been long since
Nina gazed upon your fair face, and listened to
your musical tones. ” _
It was the crazy Nina who suddenly appeared

:3 in her path.
‘h‘ Fa‘om whence come you, Nina?” Helene in—
__ ulre .
V q “From the forest where the sun has shone
n, brightly in poor Nina’s hut ever since the day
5,. she felt the sweet lips of the Singing Bird press-
”: ed to here." ‘ _
Ly. Nina looked Significantly at Helene, her large,
del mournful black eyes filled With unutterable
love.
ion “ Helene’s heart is light if she brightened a.
fled sister’s home.”
“ Yes. the hut in the forest isbeautiful now, for
33” * it is 1i hted by the kiss of a pure maiden and
the ‘dar woods seem leg lonely when ina
wanders through, because in her heart, like twin
angels hearing her company, are the remem-
brance of a fond caress and lovmg words.”
“ed: The gentle girl blushed.
‘our. “ Nina’s words make me happy, and—"
3 Gr; , “ Harkl” interrupted the woman. '
,u The two bent listeningly.
. and "i hear nothing; what is it?" resumed He-
’ me.
3' um. I i “ Footsteps; hist "returned her companion.
U’ and I‘ Helene screeme loudly, for a heavy hand
f ‘ h .zves laid on her shoulder; she turned toward
’ than I 1 ins, but she was gone, and Helene was alone
‘1' 1' e ith the ruflians. Screams fell from her pallid
aohed )5, as §he vainly endeavored to free ,herself
Emmy. Yam Ricovi’s grasp; but that rude hold was
{Stoops ytrong as iron, and she was an infant instrength
rm, an rider it.

n “ What do you want? 011, let me go!”
i foz‘ No; mus’ go with ’Covey back to cottage.
tame C; heme, not far.
as “via: mi : (ital, no, no, I cannot. Let go, you hurt my
‘ 1180 »u er.
$53306 ‘ Be keerful, man; you know what the kurnel
m glide: det. not to be overly rough.” '
1 ms fey; che; was a. harsh veice that interposed. but there
swel- humanity in. its tones; at least Helene im-
_ imfl Shed so, and she turned to him.
to somfullflh, sir, what does it all mean! Why am I
the colxbowinedl Let me go, limplore, I beg! Do not
)cruel‘. itcan down no good.” ' ,

 

like or mebbe ’twon’t be so pleasant.”

H’elene’s heart sunk within her, for she felt
another hand tighten on the fair arm, and she
was a close prisoner. '

“May God preserve me 1” she prayed.

More dead than alive, so overcome was she
from terror and alpprehensive fear, the men
found it no difficu t task to bring her, unob-
served to the presence of her tormentor. ‘

'Wea , faint and trembling she stood before

1m.

“ A h,Signorina Helene,I see you have returned
to reconsider that too hasty decision,” was his
greeting.

“ Silence, sir, I command you! The mask is
off and I see you now even more plainly than
be ore, the villain that you are.” ’

“Rail on, fair beauty,” replied Zarate, con-
temptuousl y - “ but know that the time has come
when I she no longer use honeyed words or
sweet pleadings; but, you in turn are at my feet
-—aY‘9 my snppliant.

“ Corporal, remove this woman; she is an
enemy to the Spanish government. Place her '
in the lowest dungeon, and see that you have an
efficient guard to be relieved every two hours
till midnight, when you may call me.”

Helene had fainted, and was carried, all un-
conscious, to the lace of confinement. Under
the same roof wit her lover, both secure in his
hands, what wonder that the villainous coun-
tenance of Colonel Zarate expressed what his
black soul felt, fiendish satisfaction?

 

CHAPTER XIII.
m MYSTERIOUS VISITANT.

WHEN Nina thus suddenly, and apparently in
cowardice. left her terrified companion with,
the two ruflians, it was with an eye to Helene’s
own ultimate safet . “Tith a natural shrewd-
ness she suspecte the object of the men’s
presence; and well knowing the unfortunate
girl would need assistance—also remembering
the grief and apprehension her mother would
experience—determined to aid Helene as best
lay in her power, and that was to apprise
Senora Valencie, and if possible procure ass1st-

ance.

She found the matron in her cottage, anxious-
ly awaiting the return of Helene, who had gone
on her errand to Zarate in opposition to her
desire. True, her mother had not absolutely
forbidden her going, yet she strongly objected
to. it; leaving, however, Helene to use her own
discretion.

“Ah, I might have known itl Fool that I
was to permit her to gel" she said, bitterly,
when Nina told her.

Further conversation passed between the
and then the forest-wanderer left the home 0

 

i hsusted form of a lady. fair an

Helene and plunged again into the dark woods,
gloomywith the night shades.
, Down in a dismal cell, which looked all the
more ghostly from the faint rays of a candle,
{ whose beams sought in vain to penetrate the
- furthest corners, upon a rude match of straw
, covered with a soldier’s blanket lay the ex-
dlovely. Her

 

’l‘HE EBON MASK.

 

cor , fell in xuriant abundance over her white

neck and. arms; the eyes, dim and swelled with .
weeping, were fixed upon the floor and the ‘
5

long In es swept upon the cheeks allid as the
newly—fallen snow in our cold Nort land.

Bowed with an ish, filled with indefinable

terror, Helene V encie looked the picture of
beautiful despair, as alone at that midnight hour
she held communion with her soul. From the
death-like trance into which she had fallen up-
on being carried to Colonel Zarate’s presence,
she had recovered only to find herself in that
awful place.
, Consciousness gradually returned, bringing
with it full possession of her faculties. She re-
membered the threats made by the command-
ante, that she should be his wife; and even in
that lonely spot, the homing blush rushed to her
checks as she dwelt upon it.

“ So help me Heaven, I will be true to Julian,
my first, my only love; and sooner than unite
my destiny with that man I will perish here,
inch ,by inch, amid the dirt and horrible loneli-
ness.

A shudder quivered over her frame, but in her
eyes gleamed the high, holy resolve, the firm,
unwavering determination.

The hours passed slowly on to the captive, and
the midnight bell had ceased ringing, its low
echoes reverberating through the dark night,
and still Helene sat, sleepless and watchful. As
she gazed upon the long, flickering flame of the
solitary candle whose untrimmed wick, which
had burnt since it was carelessly set there, to
gather with the scanty allowance of fare, seeing
naught, but suffering, oh! so much, she im-
agined she heard the heavy wooden door crcak
on its hinges. She turned quickly, and a low
scream escaped her lips, as she saw, standing
within her cell, a figure arrayed in robes of mid-
night hue.

A long, gracefully adjusted vail completely
covered the head, ‘face and body, defying reco -
nition. The heavy folds of the thick blac
dress swept voluminously around the _f9rm. and
lay upon the damp floor at her feet.

“Fear not, my child. I seek not to harm you,
but, if possible, to prove myself a friend.”

The sweet, gentle tone reassured the trem-
bling prisoner.

“Oh, dear lady, whcever you are. save me;
for the lava of Heaven, aid me in flying from
this fearful place. ”

“ N 0 such urging is necessary, my poor ca ed
dove; Iyou are in' trouble, and my heart ac we
when think of what you are undergoing. But,
be of'good cheer, my child; be comforted, and,
under Heaven’s blessing, you will be fires, free
as air ere many hours.”

-“ Oh take me now! Let me go away now,
instantl , from this damp, lonesome place.
M sterious‘ stran er, do not refuse my prayers!”

elene clasped or hands imploring .

“Not now, or even to night, can you leaVe
your captivity behind yOu. It would be inex-
pedient, yestimpractlcable were Antonio Za-
rate to find his lovely bird down when he pays

‘his first visit”. _

‘ The shiver that greeted her last words did not
escape her eyes. ' ’

lon , curling tresses unconfined by comb or I
u

 

 

" Fear not, Helene—you see I know your
name—when he comes. Depend upon my word
that no harm can or will come to yo ' and,
pardon me for 511 gusting, but an humble de—
meanor, one in w non you must necessarily
disguise your feelin’ even at the expense of
personal pride, woud he the surest to blind

im as to your real motives, thus rendering him
less suspicious and our intended escape more
certain and 6.”.

“LU Suull no as you say, for, oh, unknown
lady, I am trusting you infinitely. Every word
you say I believe as though it fell from :11 mo-
ther’s lips. Do not disappoint me, an the
warm love of a true heart shall ever reward
you. ” ‘ Escape 1’ Sweet sound] God grant suc—
cess. ,

“ ‘ Leota of the Ebon Mask ’ never fails to ful-
fill a promise, and ere two more suns shall rise,
you will be far from these prison walls.”

Helene gazed in wonderment upon her mid~
night visitor.

‘ ‘ Leota ’——-is it possible I see her of whom I
so often have heard? One whom people look
upon as almost supernatural, so mystenous are
her comings and goings, so silent and ofttimes
unexplainable her a pearings."

Leota laughed. t was like a. low, rippling
wave of melody. ,

“And do the villagers regard me with so
much awe? Really and truly, thou h, I do not
much wonder at it, for my business eads me in
stran e‘places and at peculiar times. How-
ever, e one I can assure you I am no spirit,
no uneasy ghost unable to rest quietly in my
grave, but a mortal, of genuine flesh and bl , ,
quite as human as yourself. See!”

She drew off the black glove and disclosed a
pretty hand, small and dark~hned. Helene ex-
tended her own and the two met, both warm
and clinging; and as the fingers closed over each
other, in a sympathetic embrace, a feeling,
strangely akin to that which filled her soul on
the day when she lay on r Nina’s bosom,
swept over Helene’s entire ' g, and she im-

ulsively pressed the delicate hand to her lips.

esolutely she controlled her emotion and again
addressed Leota.

“But, dear lady you are a mysterytome.
Who are you, and from whence did you come,
and why that mournful garb!” she eagerly
questioned.

Leota drew her glove on again, and replied,
in a stra‘n ely sad tone:

“ Who am no one knows, at least in Pensa-
cola, save one; people call me" The Ebon Mask ’
because lever wear these sad—colored garments,
and habitually vail my face. For long
Helene, no human being, save one, has I:

u on my features: the mysterious veil repulses
a leurious glances.” .

“ But, why?” persisted Helene.

“ I can not tell you that, exce t that I am a
mystery and shall remain so unt' msituk, my
86 t—appointed lifework is acoompl' ed; never
does this mask arise and disclose the faoebe-
neath until my vow is completed. Not until I
unmask another before the world, a despicable
villain, do I show who or what I am.”

Her earnest language filled Helene with ad-

 

    

  

THE EBON MASK. , ~2i'

miration, not, however, unmingled with awe and
a desire to learn further.

“ You called me by my name, Loota; will you
tell me how you knew it, and why you came to
aid me to escape from his power?’

“ I know you, my child, and have known you
for many years: and, ever interested in the good,
the figure and innocent, I came.”

“ ut how you came is a deeper mystery still,
for a sentinel guards the door, and it is securely
fastened by a massive lock and keys.”

“ Leota smiled and held before her astonished
gaze the key of the dungeon.

Helene trembled.

“ Strange creature! I shall shortly fear you
even as I now am mystified. The key, how did
you obtain it?”

“ Easily enough, doubting maiden; just as I
intend returning it when I leave you, which
must be now, for the morning dawn will soon
be upon us, and were I discovered here, our
plans would .prove futile. I will tell you when
thsee you again; but I had quite forgotten some-

ing.

She drew from her dress a small parcel
containing food for Helene—oranges, figs and
grapes.

Laying her hands on the maiden’s head for a.
second, she turned away. Helene watched her
slowly swing back the ponderous door, fit the
key in its place, and then the door closed, leav-
ing the captive alone in the place rendered
doubly gloomy by the late mysterious presence.

' She heard the click of the lock, and the gratin

noise as the key was withdrawn; she listene
as the bolt, an additional security, was shot
into its place. The faint echo of light footsteps,
rapidly gliding away, grew fainter and fainter;
then solemn stillness reigned.

Somewhat encouraged, Helene allowed her-
self to fall into a light slumber, from which she
did not awaken until almost noon, 'udging
from the few straggling rays of lig t that
crept in through the thin ri t in the dungeon
wlall, which served to light and ventilate the
p ace.

“ If I were only a man, how easil I could get
out of this dungeon; but Zarate we lknew when
he put me here, how feeble is woman’s strength.
Oh, that my brave Julian were only in this
room so he might recover his freedom. Gladly
would I exchange places with him, even though
he be loaded with cruel chains. Oh, dearest
Julian, you little know your own Helene is un-
der the same roof as yourself, and a prisoner,
too; confined for pleading in your behalf! But
courage, courage! for, when I am free, I will

_ make another effort to release you!”

Her solil uy was rudely disturbed by the
turning of t e key, and in an instant the door
opened, admitting the hated person of her r-
seciitor, the commandante. He advan to
the bench on which she was sitting, while she
recoiled in horror. But she remembered the
advice of her midnight visitor, and nerved by
the thought of escape, and evantuall obtaining
Julian’s release. b a mighty effort 5 e disguise
her emotions, , to the eyes of her admirin
jailer, appeared. more the subdued, conguere
maiden. than the loathmia terrified girl she

 

/

was. Much—e thing, depended upon her
demeanor, and we I did a e pla her part. i

“I hope the lady rested wel last night, al~
though he accommodations are hardly what
she is accustomed to.” ‘ '

“ As well, senor, as could be expected.”

"‘But you look pale and careworn,” he ob-
served, with a searching glance.

“ Is there not sufficient reason for that, senor?”
she replied, averting her head.

“True, true, fair lady, and I assure you it
causes me intense pain to be compelled to use
that same reason in order to convince you of
my truth.”

“ Truth, senor?”

“ Ay, that I passionately love you, and desire
it returned.”

He bent close to her; her delicate cheek
flushed painfully an instant, then the warm tint
receded, leaving her pale and wan. She made
no reply, and he continued:

“Signorina Helene, you are hard with me,
and misunderstanding, as you do, my motives,
it could scarcely be otherwise. Fair one, you
know not the grief in in heart when I see on
here, my prisoner, when fain would grove at
your feet, a very slave. And yet, who is to
censure? Ah, Helene, the door flies open at
your command; speak but the word, and, as
my promised wife, you walk forth a queen, a
sovereign.”

“Ah, senor, spare me, and seek not to cast
reproach upon my humble name. Do not press
me, my lord, for am unable to give you the
re uired answer.” ,

Perhaps, now, you are unable, but I do not
despair of it eventually.”

“Let me undeceive you, then, and tell you
my heart is another’s, and my vow has been ir-
revocably given to him. Consequently you
perceive the impossibility of consummating a
union with one beneath you.”

She said this quietly, carelessly, almost defer-
entially. , ,

“ I leave you, fair lady, to meditate upon my
offer; till this time to—morrow .I give you to con-
sider and decide. Then I Will come. Buenos.
alias, signo/rina!”

He was bareliuthrough the door when Helene.
fell upon herd cos], thehfaig-gushing, grateful
tears flowin own er c ee _. I

“Thank god! thank God, it is overl Ifihall
not see him again, for to-morraw, when he
comes, I shall be far away 1’: \

The hours of that beautiful Elegy plasgednu‘n;
heeded b ' the setting sun wen 0‘17
royal couych of pu 1e clouds, curtamedggr the
azure waves of the y;_the stars came out one
by one, and went troopmg across the heavens.
Some of them had but just reached the menith,
and the late evening Wind swept refreshingly
among the leafy trees, when a sh ht figure glij
(led through the doorway of the wellin on the.
bay-shore, and up to the room occupi by the
commandante‘. A dim light was burning feebly,
scarce shedding any beam upon the corners of
the room. Upon a 19w settee, wrapped in a
light covering, and but partly divested of his
uniform, lay in sound (sleep, his handsome fea-
tures turned from the intruder. 00101161 Zarate.

 

 
  
 

’\

V the lady, an

THE EBON MASK.

 

His profuse curls were brushed from his fore- I
head, still fair and smooth, deepite forty years
of dissipation; the heavy mustache did not con- .
ceal the smile that played upon his lips; and as a
he lay there, all unconscious of the presence ‘
bending over him, a tear fell on his upturned ‘
face—a pearly tear, from the eye of the myste— ,
rious intruder. '

Noiselessly turning away she—his midnight 1
guest—advanced to a small table, upon which
stood a square tin box; she tried it, but found l
it locked. With a sad smile upon her face, she
went to Zarate’s cost, which la carelessly over
a chair, and without delay pro uced a tiny key
which she fitted to the look. A moment, and
the Lid opened, exposing naught but papers. No-
thin daunted, she pushed them aside, and
tone 'n an invisible spring under the lock on
the insi e, drew the bottom of the box out.

Under the false bottom were two drawers, the
key of which was the same that unlocked the
box. She opened one, and found it empty; she
unfastened the other. That drawer contained
the object for which she was searching. It was
a key, rusty and heavy.

She placed it in her bosom, re—closed and re-
locked the secret drawer, slid the false bottom
to its place, and secured it by the spring. Care-
fully placing the papers as she found t em, she
fastened the lid, and returned the key to its
former place.

All this time Zarate had sle t quietly and un-
disturbed, all unconscious o the tear on his
face, or of the silent presence. And now, her
object accomplished, thelady again advanced to
his side and gazed earnestly upon him. Her lips
moved, but no sound escaped them; and her
eyes seemed suffused with tears.

“ Ohl Antonio—Antonio! how is your soul
steeped in crime, blackened and seared almost
past forgiveness. And yet, no! For she whom
you most wronged has forgiven, and she will
guard our innocent victim. Not for your sake,
Antonio, will Helene be guarded, but for her
own; she who little knows you, little knows the
feariul accursedness of your love forherl”

He turned in his sleep and in moving awoke.
The lady drew back and slowly retired, pointing
at her heart as she did so.

He rubbed his eyes and gazed after her.

“ Confound that she—devil! What did she
want here, prowling around in her death-robes?
‘Leota of the Ebou Mask.’ she calls herself.
Well, if I don’t unmask her it will be strangel”
and he settled himself to sleep again.

Down through the lower halls glided the noc-
turnal wanderer, to a. dark, damp cellar, where
were the cells of the risoners. Up and down
the ghostly corridor lighted by the struggling
rays of a meager light, trod the guard, a. fiim
sleepydookin fellow. Up to his side g (led
laid her hand on his arm.

“ Jose, will you let me see your prisoner for
a few moments? Your master has let me have
the key and I am at liberty to enter provided
the sentinel oifered no objection, which of
course he would not hm?l ungallant as to do,
particularly as I have br ght a little gift.”

She smiled and held out a generous

 

liquor. / Jose eyed her suspiciously.

" It's all very well, ma’am, but I must say it
looks user." \I
“ y, Jose how you talk! Surely you
kn0w me, J ose?"

“Well, yes, ma’am, I think I do. Ain’t you
the woman nobody knows and everybody
knows?”

She laughed, and looked serious instantly.

“ But, in man, I must see Signor-ina Valen~
cie. now. . a I pass?”

He hesita

“ Here is the key, J ose. taken, as Isaid before,
from your colonel. If he allows me to have the
key, surely no soldier has a right to deny my
authority. When he will permit me to enter,
with your permission, (i; course, Jose, that is
equal to a command. esides, you can regale
yourself with this until I return.’

She stepped by, leaving the flask in his hand.

Adjusting the key and shooting hack the
bolt, she swung open the door and stood in the
presence of Helene.

Thte maiden’s checks were flushed with excite-
men . ‘

“ Then you are come! Oh, I am so thankful. ”

“ Hush; the guard is just outside; be r-
Eectly silent and in fifteen minutes you wilfebe

ree.

“ But how, tell me how, Leota, will we pm
him i”

“ I gave him rum; that rum is drugged, and

no person can counteract its eflects for many ‘

hours.”

She peered cautiousl out. Upon the floor,
with the partly emptie bottle beside him, lay
Jose, already overpowered by the potent drug.

“ Come, we can go now,” and supporting the
trembling girl, Leota stepped past the uncon-
scious guard, through the musty hall, up the
stairs and out the door.

Helene was free. free as the air she breathed!

 

CHAPTER XIV.
m SHADOW or COMING EVENTS.

WHEN Julian St. John was rudel flung upon
the floor of his prison, it would be most impos-
sible to describe his feelin s. ’

Helene! was she safe, on . would Pepe keep
his romiso to guard her Vigilantly‘l

Thoughts of her filled his soul with intensest
anguish, and when he remembered Zaratefs
taunting words, the im tuous fire leaped to his
eye and the indignant 1006. to his face.

“ Villain, rascal, traitor! but if I ever get
clear of this foul hole, the life of that miscreant
will pay for it i”

But he grew calmer and_iz_iore reasonable as

do. after day passed on
fiw” t:toodhe mchmht narrow a riure that
' e .
3&3. in a stylg peculiardto  f, the double
pose '1 t r en wm ow.
pguddeul); {Egg agistle fell Epon his farsvefie
arted nd i no Again came» ow
183w, scat-ca 1:15:39 than a whispered echh. llyt
dad familiar an a. va _
fills-t as he allowed himsel to think it might be
a signal for him. Once more it come, and,

urged by as strong he answered.

( I

gnu“.-. . «on.  .

after Helene’s escape that;

e hope thrilled his .

   
 
   
   
   
  
    
 
    
    
    
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
   
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
    
  
  
  
 
    
  
   
   
    
  
   

.-,l-.__..-v ....,.....'..W,;o—4r' .

~ through. For a while he tried to snap his chain,

any 80“ . he went to work with no feeble

say“ v

I THE EBON MASK. - a.

 

All was quiet for some time, when sudden] a.
tiny stick struck against the iron bars and all
just outside them. Quickly as he could free his
chained feet, he reached and took it in. Around
the twig was twined a slip of paper, and u on
g’written, in a chirography he knew was in-

s:

“ fibrother, help is at hand.
to-nig t, just after dusk."

That was all it said, but it was enough, and
gatiently he awaited the appointed hour.

lowly sunk the sun, and then followed the
lovely twilight, that delightful hour so flttin
for repose and quiet, when it seems as though
through the realms of space angels had passed,
leaving behind an impress of their presence;
that hour when the day seems reluctant to re-
sign its scepter to night, yet lingeringly obeys.

The darker shades gathered, and. watchful
and expectant, Julian stood at the Window.

A low whisper startled him.

“ Julian l”

“ Here, Pepe, waiting for you.”

“ Hold up your hands, and take this.”

A knife gleamcd before his eyes.

“My hands are chained, and I cannot.”

A silence followed this reply.

“If I could get your fetters off your arms,
you would be all right. Think, Julian; can you
not devise some plan?”

“ Can’t you slip it between the bars?” .

“No; the hilt is much too thick. I Will fix
it: wait a second.”

Probably half an hour elapsed ere Pepe re-
turned with the blade.

“ I saw the guard, so I was delayed longer
than I expected. Now, your arms; reach them
up, can’t on?” ' .

He cou d not, and Pepe threw the knife

Be at the window

but was unsuccessful. .

“ Here, Pepe, I will step on this roll of matting
and straw: there, ou can reach my wrists.”

He bent his head}: to avoid collision with the
ceiling, and laid is hands against the bars.

Without a W , Pepe applied the keen-tem-
pered saw, an In a moment Julian’s arms
were‘free.

“ Now, our feet,” commanded Pepe.

The chain that held them was, after consider-
able trouble, divided, and he could walk once
more.

“ The time to escape is not yet; you must
use that knife whenever you have an opportu-
nity. The walls here are nothing but wood and
hardened clay, which will not long resist your
knife. The next night but one from this I will
come with horses, and you can fly. The guard '

 

is coming again, and I must hurry o .” I.

Pepe was gone ere Julian could reply. He?
turned to his dismal cell again, and adjusted his
chains about his limbs, to give any chance vzsi- l
tors the up ance of» being bound firmly, yet
allowing himself free motion.

Cautiously he began his task; (patiently he
tried various places in the wall, en savoring to i
select the best. At last, about a. yard from the "
window he concluded to begin his mining ope- i
rations, so listening to see if he could etect

 

am. For along time he continued his turn.
until heated and tired, be carefully removed all
traces of his work, hid the knife, and sat down
to recover from his fatigue.

“This being bound so long, and so tightly,
too, makes me weaker than I would have
thought,” he murmured to himself, as he care—
fully arrangod the fettors upon his legs and
arms.

Left once more to his thoughts, they quickly
reverted to Helene, who, even at that moment,
was eagerly, anxiously awaiting the midnight
horfi' when she would be freed from the prison
W8. S.

The night slowly passed, and the morning
dawned—dawned upon Julian in his lonely cell;
upon the commandante, sleeping as Leota had
left him; and upon the inmates o a lodge built
in the most quiet recesses of the cypress grove.
Gathered around a humble board, upon which
was spread the fru a1 morning repast, were
Senora Valencie, He one, and the mysterious
creature, Leota. Near the door stood Pepe

Pinto. I

“ And to-night, Pepe, did you say he would
come?”

“ Perhaps loo—night, signorina; may be not
until tomorrow. I shall, if possibie, visit the
window again when dusk comes, and, if all is
ready, I don’t see why this midnight will not do
as well as to-morrow’s.”

“ Do bring him as soon as you can; and brin
him here, Pepe, to Leota‘s hut; may he not?’
asked Helene, turnin to the lady.

“Most certainly I s all expect him: and then
we can fly to a more secure retreat if neces-
sa . .
f"ylt grieves me so, dear lady, that you should
risk your personal safety for me.” returned the
maiden, looking sorrowful] at Leota.

“ Say not so, my child; 0 you not remember

‘the words I told you that night in your prison—

cell? Remember them, but allow me to pursue
my own course. ” ,

‘ Always and ever will I gladly and willingly
obey you; and so long as I live will you be
gratefully and lovingly remembered.”

The impulsive, enthusiastic girl caught the
hands of her deliverer in her own. ' .

“There, there, child, you are foolish ;” but
Helene saw a happy, fond light scintillate from
the veiled eyes.

“Finish your breakfast, daughter, do!” in-
terrupted her mother.

“ I am done, thank you. momma. But I wish
to ask you a question which I had almost for-

otten. I want to know where Nina is; do you
now? Poor creature! I saw her last just as
the —they took me.” _ ' '
elene’s eyes gleamed 1n excited re-
membrance. Her mother exchanged glances
with Leela, and seeking to pacify her daughter,
replied, carelessly: ~

“ Somewhere in the woods, I suppose. I have
not seen her since she told me_ of your seizure.”

While this side-play was being enacted in the
cottage in the cypress grove, another of entirely
diflerent character was jransactmg ‘ not far
distant.

Zarate and De Leon were the chief actors.

“ And so your wooing speeds right auspiciousv .

/
l

 

 

 

THE EBON MASK.

 

l , colonel?” remarked his brother officer, with
e almost indifferent air so peculiar to him. .
“Auspicious, indeed, comrade; gentle, quiet

and subdued! Hal ha! I know how to bring
her down a or so." I
He rub his hands in glee. ‘

“Gentle and quiet, you said friend l”

“Remarkably; why, man, I wish you could
have witnessed our interview yesterday—"

“ So you had the impudcnce to visit her in her
cell, eh? Ali, Zarate, I fear you are a bad
fellow.”

The colonel smiled, and complacently stroked
his mustache, as though he enjoyed the compli-
ment.

“ You must not be hard on a fellow, mon
amigo. Just as if it were possible to remain
from such a dainty little piece of dimity. But,
confidentially, De Leon, was a little surprised
at her demeanor. and my reception; so much so
that I sitively forgot my errand. However,
I promised to see her again this afternoon, and
then I’ll lay an onza she is willin enough.”

His companion puffed away at is cigar.

“ Changed her tactics to throw you ofl’ your
guard. Depend upon it, colonel, that the Sig-
norina Helene is no less cunning than daring.
She only assumes—”

“What mean you, De Leon?" interrupted the
commandante turning pale with sur rise.

“It you will wait until I am throug ,, possibly

ou may understand what I mean—that is, un-

ess you are too intoxicated with your imagin-

success to be rational, and listen to reason.”

3 Leon’s voice was cool and betrayed no dis-

position to hasten, although he noticed the inn
patient scowl on his companion’s brow.

“ Well, then, if you are at last read , do pray
condescend to impart this wonderf piece ol.‘
information,” sneered the colonel.

For a moment De Leon fixed his piercing eyes
upon Zarate’s face, and rising, threw his cigar
out the window.

“ Colonel Zarate, I am not accustomed to be-
ing addressed in that style, and, consequently,
do not consider myself at all bound to reply to
your insolent remark.”

“ Insolent remark, sir? Be careful, and re-
member whom you addres,” returned the com-
mandante, now thoroughly enraged.

“I most certainl do recollect that I address
one who would gla y call himself superior; but,
it fortunately happens that Colonel Zarate ranks
the same as Colonel De Leon.” '

“ ’Tis a. lie, and you know it! You know well
that the commandante of the Spanish troops in
Florida is the highest authority, the chief execu-
tive wer.”

“ ir, you have dared to call me a liar, you-
have used words no gentleman no true Spaniard
will receive from any one. it is past; it is be-
yond 1334111, and you will hear from me without
fail. od-morning, sir.”

De Leon’s lips were compremed and ale, and
his eyes bright and flashing as he left t e apart-
ment.

He had just touched the latch when an order-
ly came excitedly in, and, barely stopping to
salute, hurriedly exclaimed:

“ Colonel the prisoner has escaped l”

   

 

' '. “ Wm?" demanded aerate. Wlth ashen lips.

“ She has escaped, and—”
“ He raised his eyes toward the door. There
stood De Leon, who had heard it all. A sarcas-

tic smile played upon his lips, and a triumphant
light learned in his eyes. For a moment he
gave t e enraged ofiicer the full benefit of both,
then withdrew, and passed down the stairs.

“Ten thousand curses on him l" growled the
colonel, gnashing his teeth in impotent rage.

“Your prisoner has escaped?” he demanded
abru tly of the soldier. ,

“ es, sir; the woman, the spy.”

“But how, man, howl Who was on aid?
Send me the ser cant of the guard instant y. A
thousand ma] ictious on his head who could
not attend to his duty better; and may I die by
in shes if a. hair of his head remains unhurt 1”

He fairly foamed with rage, and it was by a.
superhuman effort that he received, listened to
and gave orders to the sergeant who had just
entered. ,

“ Is the orderly’s report true?” he demanded.
“ es, sir, and the key of the cell is in the
door.”

“Per todos samtosl the key in the lock?”
and with a cry he sprung to the small tin box
on the stand. Quickly be unlocked the lid
threw aside the papers, touched the spring an
moved back the bottom. There were the two
drawers, both locked; applying the key, he in-
stantly o ened them. orror of horrors! the
key, yvhic he had himself placed there, was
gone

With glaring eyes be surveyed the box, and
faint sounds issued from his lips.

“The hidden spring—the false bottom—who
knows that secret but myself? I, who made
the box? Not a mortal con (1 find the key unless
they knew the secret!”

But, there was the box, and there was not the ~

key. -

“ Bring me the key, sergeant, immediately.”

“ I have it with me, sir.”

He handed it to his superior, who took it with
a sort of; mysterious awe, as if fearing it might
escape from his grasp. It s the selfsame,
veritable rusty old iron he ha secured in his
most private stronghold, not ten hours before.
As he gazedu on it, there came to his mind,
like a flash of ightning, blinding and scathing,
the recollection of his in sterious visitor on the
previous night, and a. co (1 sweat stood on his

row . ,

“ mare de dies! it was she, the black mask 1”
and unmindful of the presence of the men, he
1slum]:1 upon a seat, covering _his face with '

an s.

Strange thoughts passed through his mind

while he sat_there, and he remembered herflrst

v e warning.

‘ But the secrets of that box: could she, fiend
though I believe her, thus secure the key to a
prisloggf’s cell? And the guard—how pass the
gun

_This train of thought suddenly aroused

in. '

“ Sergeant, who was on duty last night when:
the woman 3 her esca l” ‘

“Private J ose Escobedo, sir,” and he pointed r '

to a. man by his side, who clingineg saluted. .

    

  

n

m EBON MASK. ' as.

r

“ Well, and what report have you to make?”
sternly asked the colonel.

In a plain straightforward manner Jose re-
lated the events just as they transpired, so far
as his knowledge went, which, of course, was
limited, as after the door had closed on the Ebon
Mask, all further consciousness on his’ part
ceased, for he had not been slow in partang of
the rum.

“ Bah! Sergeant take him away and confine
him in a secure place, and fasten a fifty pound
ball and chain to his feet, and allow only half
an allowance of prisoner's rations. My honest
Jose, we will comfort you with n. court-martial
some of these days.” -

The two left the room.

“ Sergeant, come back when you have obeyed
my orders; meantime dispatch the boy Luez for
Ricovi, for I desire him immediately.”

Twenty minutes later, and the rogue stood
before him. ‘ ‘

“You are sure you understand my directions.
and will execute them correctly and speedily?”

“Yes, sure. Want me and my man, Lope, to
find where pris’ner ’scaped to; then come back,
git more men, and go fotch ’er, eh?”

“That is just it. Now be off, and hasten.”

At that moment the sergeant returned.

“ Well?” demanded the imperious colonel.

“ You desired me to return, sir.”

“Yes. Remove the look from the other pris-
oner’s cell, and bring it to me. see that there
are massive iron bars put up, one in the center,
and one at each end. Be careful, and assure
yourself they are as strong as iron_Will make
them. Also detail two of your trustiest men to
stand guard until midnight."

Once more alone, Zarate’s thoughts were none
of the pleasantest, and the heavy scowl on his
brow was blacker than ever.

“ Vexationl everything unpleasant seems to
pour upon me now, just as good fortune favored
me so lately. Not twenty-four hours'a o I was
gloating over the ssession of the bir ; now I
canconsole myse with the empty cage. Then
I called De Leon my friend, now he is my bit-
terest enemy. Fool, fool that I was, to alienate
him, for he spoke truth when he aflirmed that
our ranks were equal; and had he said_his influ-
ence with the ministry exceeded mine, com-
mandante though. I am, ’twould have been

. strictly true. But now, now I fear I must dearly1

a for m rashness. However, De Leon sh
geXer knozv it, even though I am recalled and
cashiered— and he has influence to do even
that I” .

' His reverie was cut short by a. low knock at
the door.

“ Come in," was the moody response.
\ A. boy, evidently a stranger, entered. _
“Are you the commandantei” he inquired. I
Zarate nodded, and the boy handed him a. shp
of paper.
“The warning was unheeded; be prepared for the

consequences. Sooner than you anticipate. the vial
of wrath will be poured blightingly upon £0111
member , sou"

This was all the note said, but it was enou h
to cause a sickening sensation to creep over t e
man's heart and a. faint vague terror to fill his
souL Was it a premonition? was it the shadow

 

l ’er.” -

already falling ‘over him, the awful shadow of
the almost accom lished vow of “ Leota, of the
Ebon Mask?’ e shall see.

CHAPTER XV.
THE REUNION.

Two persons sit conversing on a rude bench
just outside the guard—house.

“ I sincerely hope you will pardon me for the
disagreeable duty I am about to rform. You
know, colonel, such things w' hap n, and
must be satisfactorily accounted or. My
friend, De Leon, recognizing you as an equal in
the service, feels that he can require satisfac-
tion, or an amfle apology.”

“ And am , then, ex cted to retract the
wordle uttered?” deman ed Zarate haughtlly.

“ Or else accept the alternative " i believe;

“Very well,” replied he, cooll . “Tell him
whom you represent thatIdo not intend re-
tracting anything I said, and do not anticipate
making the slightest apology. I accept his
challenge, as a soldier—as a gentleman." .

He bowed stifliy, and received a similar salu
in return.

“ As .the challenged party, you, of course,
have the choice of weapons sir. ’ '

“ And I select rifles, sir.’

De Leon’s second eyed him in astonishment.

“My dear sir, I be you will not thinltof it.
Rifles! They are 0 y fit for huntsmen and
robbers. words l—certainly swords—such
elegant toys for gentlemen of rank.”

“ Yes, and be cut to pieces without mercy,”
thpught Zarate; then aloud he replied:

‘ i have named rifles, and shall abide by that "

decision.”

Senor Rosales bowed.

“ To-morrow morning, sunrise, one mile from
Pensacola, on the bay-road. Any further infor-
mation you will learn from Signor Jacinto, who
will act in a friendly capacity toward me.
Buenos dies ,' hasta manana !”

Not twenty yards from the spot where Zarate
and Rosales were sitting, was the cell of the
hunter, and, as he stood by the narrows rture,
with the cool air refreshing him in his everish
anxiety, the voices of the two men were borne
to his ear, a. confused murmur of inarticulate
sounds.

Directly he saw a horseman dash through the
gate, and. he recognized him, in the gatherin
twilight shadow, as Ricovi. A gleam of awf
import flashed across J ulian’s face; but his com-
pressed lips gave forth no sound. Had the

orseman seen and correctly read that glance,
he would not have ridden with such alacrity to
the door of the rd-house.

The colonel st sat there, and as he noted the
a. reach of the horseman, he arose tomeet him.

ot ten paces from Julian’s window the met,
and, although their voices were low an cau-
tious, yet the night wind favored the prisoner,
who strained every nerve to hear; for, with a
straggedprescience, he felt it concerned her.
:1
I read it in your face. Tell me, qu ck.”

“Trailed ’em, kurnel; brung up at the old
cabin in the cypress gave; see ’em in winder,
mother and a ’ooman

you were successful, my good Ricovl. .

black with a veil over" '

 

 

  

28

THE EBON MASK.

 

The commandante trembled with excitement. ! window at which Julian awaited him in burn-

“ Did you see any men with Signora Valencia mg,

and her daughter?”

“No men: git her easy ’nufl. Me and Lope,
we kin do it. Go’bout midnight, ’sprise ’em,
carr her back here. ’Covey’ll do it.”

“ e that ou do; here 18 gold, and when

on delivert e girl to me, you receive more.

e very cautious, Ricovi, for you remember heard in his

you disap inted me once—the first——-”

“Was t at ’Covey’s fault?
when she no come, eh?”

“ You are right, it was not your fault. But
it will be now, for you say yourself you saw
her. When may I expect you back?”

The man studied a. moment.

“ Sunrise to-morrow."

“Ah, sunrise l" and a pang shot through his
heart.
then l” he thought.

“That is late; can’t you come sooner?”

“ Will try."

He rode of! again, and Zarate returned to
the doorway of the guard-house, little thinkin
upon whose ears the entire conversation ha
fallen.

A note was dispatched by him to his friend,
Ca tainJacinto, informing him of the liberty
he ad taken in appointing him “ second” in the
coming passage of arms; beggin his pardon
for the seeming freedom, yet gent y hinting it
was la commandante who thus favored Cap-
tain Jaeinto, etc. .

A speed reply 'came by bearer, accepting the
honor, an promising to see the colonel before
the meeting, and thus it was arranged. .

 

The midnight hour was cool and cloudy; a.

few straggling beams flitted over the face of .

nature, as the scudding clouds now obscured,
now revealed, the crescent moon.

By the window stood Julian. anxiously await-
ing the arrival of» his good friend Pepe, who,
since the hour he left the knife, had not been
near the guard-house. The bell had rung
twelve, still he came not. Ever and anon, Ju-
lian heard the heavy trend of the sentinel, as he
neared him in his tiresome beat, and the chal-
lenge of the outside guard fell distinctly on his

ears.

Suddenly a dark form appeared on the edge
of the woods, which lay about a hundred yards
from his window. Creeping stealthin alon in
its protecting shade, it gradually approac ed
nearer and nearer the long. low step on which
paced the sleepy guard. A moment after. and
it was crouching under the shade of the spread-
ing shrub. ,

“Now if’ the moon would only hide at‘ the
same time that guard is turned, Icould clear
that open s ace in half a second. As it is, I
must wait. oor Julian must be tired of watch-
ing. I wonder if he has the hole dug out enough,
although of course, he wouldn’t dare break the
outer wall until after dark to-ni ht."

At that instant fortune, or rat er Providence,
favored the waitin . deliverer. The guard was
half-way down his eat, and justlhen a heavy,
(lowering cloud passed darkly over the moon’s

disk.
With a skillful leap Pepe alighted‘ near the,

i

 

i

!
i

: YOI ' hand Pe th re“ hold f 1;.
‘Sunrise,’ [and what else do 1 meet‘ u ’ P9— 6 y as

 

 

unrestrainable impatience, for since he had
heard the vile plotters arrange their plan, the
minutes had seemed years.
“Julian ” was whispered from outside.
“Here. l’epe. For God‘s sake, let us hurry.”
“ Climb up and stand on the matting again.”
As he stepped up, a light clanking noise wa
eet.

“ Your fetters, J ulian—you have forgotten to

Could he git her remove them.”

“Hist! No; perhaps we may find use for

them.”

“ What! Do you a prehend immediate
discovery and re—arrest?’ inquired Pepe anx-
iously.

“No, no. I will tell you When I am out.

I am near-
ly through.” i

In a second he emerged through the narrow
aperture, .scratched and bleedin , the small
splinters of wood and flakes of cr ted dirt ad-
hering to his clothing. He paused a single sec.
onu, drawing in long, deep respirations of fresh

air.

A hurried but earnest clasp of the hand fol-
lowed.

“Where are the horses? We have nota mo-
ment to  If you only knew the agony of
sus use!

‘ ‘Agony,’ Julian, when you are free, and
5115—”

“Hist! the sentinel is near. Crouch lower,
there, a moment, and when he turns we will
glide across the open lot to the pine tree,
yonder.”

“ The horses are near there. ”

They watched their time, and in a second
were safer mounted on the waiting animals.
Cautionsly they rode along, keeping in the
dense shade of the roadside bushes, until they
had left the scene of their escape nearly a mile
behind them. Meantime their tongues had not
been silent.

Suddenly Julian said:

“ Where do you intend taking me? To the
ruins?

“ Indeed, no; but to Helene and her mother,
who await you in the cypress grove.”

“ Oh Helene! Heaven guard her till we reach
her. 15into, her life depends on our exertions
to-m' ht!" '

“ but do you say?” inquired the astonished
com anion.

“ repeat, it we wish to save Helene from a
fate worse than death, we will not spare
ogr horses: And he hurriedly related the
s r ,

“ y God, and can it be? So soon on her
track, when twas but three days since—;” L

Page suddenly paused, almost forgetting
that ulian knew naught of his lady’s impris-
onment. ,

“Since what?” demanded he.

“ You will swear eternal revenge on him,
Julian: but listen, and I‘ will tell it all.”

Terribly calm and unnaturally com

but even in the k night gleamedpthe light in
that eye. ’

“ And now. lest she fall again into his hands.

d .
he heard the stag; not a word escaped his lips’; I

  

     
  

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

THE EBON MASK.

 

we will to the rescue, and Heaven grant we
mg; not be too late.”

lthdifliculty suppressing a wild yell of de-
fiance and challenge, the hunter sprung forward,
followed by his trusty friend.

 

CHAPTER XVI.
run BAFFLED FATE.

AFAR in the grove shone a. light, now bright,
now dim, as the waving branches revealed or
obscured its glow.

“Almost there. Spur up, Pepe. Who knows
but that, at this very moment, the villains are
within?”

Again they dashed on, and in a few moments
alighted close by the humble entrance to the
lint. The door
Julian’s arms, almost insensthe from or great
jo . A single glance had sufliced to show him
al was, as yet, safe, and extending a. hand to
Senora Valencia, with the other arm be pressed
his beauteous betrothed closer to his heart.

The scene was one of bliss and joy; language
were feeble to ortray the deep. overflowing
happiness that ed each breast. But, it was of
short duration.

Sounds of approaching footste s, stealthy and
indistinct, alarmed them, and ulian, tenderly
removing Helene from his side, started sudden-
ly to his feet. ‘

“ Your rifle and knife, Pepe—are they
ready?”

An assenting nod satisfied him.

“ Come, then we must hide, and let them get
fully within. be not be alarmed, my darling,
at whatever may happen. Trust to us, and
you are safe.”

They crept behind a partition that divided ‘

the room into two apartments. Hardly had
the accomplished this when the door opened,
an a. face, hideous and contorted, was thrust

, partly in. A second, and two men, armed with

ready weapons, stood inside the door, staring
maliciously around.

With a scream, Helene rushed to her mo-
ther’s arms.

“ 0h, mother, mother, they are the men who
took me that day l” .

Clasping her protectingly, the lady confronted
the intruders.

' “ What do you here, and whom do you de-

“There’s w’at we’s after,” grinned Ricovi—
for the reader will readily perceive who the
men were—“ come ’long back home, e ’

“Do you dare threaten us? Leave this cot-
tage instantly as you value your lives,” sternly

l

' commanded the s gnora, her eyes blazing with

indi ation.
“ omen can’t skeer me, nohowl” V
'He advanced to Helene, and his companion
turned to her mother.

“Hold there, or you are dead menl” yelled
Julian at the instant, and rushing impetuously'
upon Ricovx, he leveled him senselem with a
well-directed blow between the eyes, while Pepe,

, with equal precipitancy, had sui rised the other

rogue who stood against the w

and held him
by the point of his bayonet. ’

“ A motion of your finger, even, and this runs i,

\

urst open; Helene sprung to _

 

1ylrou through,”oflercely declared Pinto, pricking
im slightly as he spoke.

A moment sufficed to bind the ruflian, hand
and foot, with the fetters Julian had brought,
and the bayonet laced under his chin. he was
unable to move is head without suffering a
pretty sharp prick.

Ricovi, too, beinrr senseless, was easily se-
cured, and laid un er a table to wake tocon-
sciousness and captivity.

“ And now, Julian, what remains to be done?
These fellows are our prisoners, yet we dare
not report to Colonel Zarate.”

“ True, for he would, without hesitation,
transfer the bracelets to you and I.”

“May I be permitted to advise?” inquired a
sweet voice.

They all turned quickly in the direction from
which the tones came.

A graceful, black—robed lady stood in the cen—‘

ter of the apartment.

“Leota, dear lady, when did you return?”
joyousl queried Helene.

“An how gain access to this room, without
our knowledge?” asked her mother.

“Oh, I am a mystery et, you know, althou h
I imagine any one co (1 noiselessly enter t e
door when you were all so engaged with your
company.”

She pointed to the prisoners.

In astonishment Julian looked on.

“I beg your pardon, my friend, for neglect~
ing to address you, but you see how utterly im-
possible it was. However, I warmly welcome
you, uniting in the general joy your return
occasions.”

He respectfully bent over the extended hand.

“But, lady, remember I am in entire igno»
rance of your name; therefore can not address

you as I should. Please ac~ept my warmest '

thanks for your kind interest in the welfare or a,
stranger.”

“Oh, no; you are no stranger, my boy; a
long time haVe I watched over you and noted
the growing friendship existing between Helene
and yourself, which under my blessing and
Heaven’s permission, has ripened into love. ”

“ Bless you dear lady, and may you be eter-
nallv rewarded for your disinterested kind-
ness to an orphan boy whose only friends save
these lie sleeping side by side in the far North.

His voice was husky and tears stood in his

yes.

“ Disinterested kindness, Julian? No, indeed,
for 1 am anticipating an immense reward,”
smiled Leota, archly.

“Don’t look sovsur rised, Julian,” said He-
lene. “ She means a she says, but you'will
not be able to comprehend her. ‘Mysterious’
she claims to be.”

“ My friends, ’tis almost day, and we all need
rest. Let us part for a brief time, and seek re-
pose. The prisoners will need our frilnds for
guards; we will retir to our beds; the advice I
intend will do as ell a. few hours hence.
Buenas nachcs I” .

B

The first gray streaks of dawn were visible in
the east; the stars were gone, and the restless
clouds of the night before had scurried off,
leaving promise of a pleasant day. It yet

  

        
  
  
   
  
    
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
    
  
    
 
    
 
   
  
   
 
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
    
 
    
   
  
   
   
 
   

.l

      
       
       
         
        
       
 
       

THE EBON MASK.

 

Wanted "1‘ hour 0! 511111459be “'1 impatient returns with either of the escapades,”he added ,

form might be seen pacing up and down before ,
the ofllcers’ quarters at the block-house. Within ‘
all was silent; the officers were sleepingr on their i
bamboo-settees, and the guards drowsin whiling
aw the unoccupied hours 01? duty.

ithout the solitary figure, clad in bright,
shining uniform, walked to and fro. His gaze ‘
was up the road in the direction of the cypress 
grove; a cloud of impatience, discouragement I
and fear shadowed his face, while from the |
haughty lips fell the oft-repeated expression:

“ that can detain them?”

For the fortieth time, probably, be had ejacu-
lated the same question, and at each repetition,
his face grew darker and more apprehensive.

Sounds of footsteps startled him; eagerly he i
turned; an expression of impatience escaped ‘
him, for ’tvras only a boy, and he surely
thought ’twas Ricovi.

But the lad, instead of passing on, came up
to him and handed him a note.

“ An answer if you please, Sir."

The frown deepened as he read:

“ COLONEL Anromo ZARATE:

“ B order of Colonel Aguierie De Leon I am com-
man ed to request that you will meet him near the
hut in the c ress grove at the appointed time, in-
stead of the y-road. Begging that you will not
decline to thus favor him, am happy to have the
extreme honor to remain,

“With rofound respect,
“ our obedient servant,
“MANUEL Rosanne,
“ Captain, etc. "

“The hut in the cypress grove I” By what ‘
strange fatality had that place been selected? ;
Surely De Leon could not possibly know of it? ‘
Of course not: the idea was preposterous. He
had doubtless selected the place as being more
private, and, in case of anything more serious,
the but was conveniently near. Besides, sup-
posin Helene were there now, and her mother
too? icovi and his accomplice would soon be
back with one or both in custody. .

"‘Tell Captain Rosales, yes.”

“ Is that all I shall say?”

“That is all. Vega 1”

Just as the boy turned away, a carriage drove
up to the door, and an elderl man sprung out.

“Ah, Jacinto, I am rejoice to see you; punc-
tual as usual. Come in, and regale yourself
with chocolate.”

The two oflicers entered the apartment, and
were passing through, when an orderly in hot
haste advanced to Zarate.

“ Colonel, the prisoner, Julian the hunter, has
escaped through a hole cut in the wall 1”

“ scoped, orderly? You tell me he has es-
caped? Can it be possible after the extra pre-
cautions I took last night?”

“He went by the outside, I said, sir—dug a ’
hole in the wall. His chains are gone, too.”

“Detail fift men and scour the woods, and i
bring him bac , dead or alive.”

That terrible baffled look was fearful to be-
hold as it settled ashin over Zarate’s face; a.
‘pale r e seemed to possess him, and his eyes
were co d and stony, his voice shrill and unnat- 1
ural as he addreSSed Jacinto:

' “’Tis almost sunrise sigfipr, and the time is
come. Let us go. And if, 'covi or the orderly .

 

turning to his lieutenant, “have them Secure
until I return.” '

Donning his hat, and shouldering the heavy,
awkward Spanish rifle, he and J acinto and t e.
post-surgeon, Dr. Viscarra, entered the carriage
and rode to meet—what?

CHAPTER XVII.
A LIFTING or THE VAIL.

“ WHAT, awake and up so early? Surel you
can not have had sufficient rest. Remem r it
was well on to the morning when We retired.”

Helene turned her bright face to the ques—
tioner, Leota.

“Might I not ask the same of you? But I
will confess I should have indulged inalittle
more sleep had not the movements of these
men disturbed me,” she replied, pointing to the
captives.

Leota. glanced at them and an expression of

satisfaction flitted across her face.
“on Leota, who is that coming?” suddenly
asked Helene, who had gone to the window to
inhale the fresh morning air. “Do you think
they can be emissaries of the commandante’l”
she asked, apprehensively.

“What if they are—are not we well pro~
tected?"

She glanced at the sleeping hunter and Pepe,
who had watched their charge till day, then
finding them sperfectly quiet and secure, had
indul ed in a ight slumber.

“ es, yes, but if they should prove hostile
and overpower us!”

“Nonsense?” cheerfully laughed Leota; “ to
me their occupation is not hostile—to us. ”

Silently they watched the movements with-
out. It was about fifty yards from the window
that two men were busily employed pulling up
bushes and clearing the ground for the space of
a few rods. At that distance the features were
indistinct, but that they wore oificers’ uniforms
was evident, the glittering straps and buttons
being sufficiently prominent to dispel any doubt
on that score. '

The men had desisted in their work, and
seemed awaiting something or somebody. Sud. ,
denly the sound of carriage-wheels came crash-
mg through the bushes, then stopped. A ind
ment elapsed, and three gentlemen entered the
cleared space—one, tall, haughty and elegant,
the others, less so in their appearance.

Helene saw his features plainly, and her face
was allid with terror as she gasped: ,

“ibratel”

Julian and Pepe sprung to their feet, but‘
Leota’s reassuring smile was suflicient to stay .

 

them, and gently removing Helene and placing r ‘

her on thesettee she took the youn men aside
and communicated something to‘t em—some-
thing which prevented any surprise when they
joined Helene at the easement to watch the
proceedings. '

The parties had changed positions and their ',

situation was suspicious
intent. A V
“ A duel, oh, a duel l” murmured Helene,

y indicative of their

sf:

and sick. “ Indeed, I cannot witness it.
see, the rifles are raised! Quick, let me go before
they fire I" ~ I

\

      

   
  

,4 .4” .r‘: ,

a - d..-"

 

 

    

 
  

 

 

 

, spoke.

 

She rushed from the window and ained the
other room just as a loud re rt fe upon her
ear, and a. heavy fall was distinctly heard at
the hut.

It was Zarate who fell, his right side ierced
by the ball from De Leon’s rifle. He ad in-
stantly fallen, exclaiming: “ I’m shot; De Leon,
you’ve killed me.”

Jacinto, his second, and Dr. Viscarra rushed
to his side. Rigid, and a parently lifeless, he
lay upon the ground, yet amp with the morn-
in dew.

6 Leon came forward and gazed earnestly

upon his fallen enemy; his fine features were
sad, and his voice, though betraying little emo-
tion was low and feeling.
“i. almost re rret this unfortunate termina-
tion of affairs. at it is better so. Better if he
never returns to consciousness again than to
learn his future if he recovers. Doctor Vis-
carra, he needs water—does he not?”

“ It is his only chance, but where is there any?”

De Loon pointed to the hut, almost hidden by
the trees. Carefully they lifted the wounded
soldier and conveyed him to the hut.

“They are cominrr here; let me go,” strug-
gled the afirighted fielene, as she saw the slow,
sad procession move toward the door. She
was too late, however, for the party had opened
the door.

“Come, we will leave the room together,”
and only too glad, Leota and the ladies vacated
the apartment.

For along time no signs of life were visible in
Zarate; but vigorous bathing and strong stimu-
lants at length seemed to resuscitate him.

He gasped for breath, then sighed deeply,
seemingly sensible of his condition. Later his
energies seemed to return, and he gazed won-
derin ly around. -

Wit quiet demeanor the little group watched
his motions, as he slowly revived, and at length
Even at that awful hour, hi: words
sent a chill to every heart. His first glances had
fallen upon Julian, who had been foremost in
assisting him, and a deadly fire lighted his dy-
ing 9 es. ,

‘ 001, you dare stand there and triumph
over me? Never mind, but I’ll—”

His breath failed him, but he glared fiercely
at him. Julian’s face was full of pitying com-
pmion.

“Poor, mistaken soul,” he said to De Leon.
“And yet we can not pity him so devoid of
any humanity as he is; although l must confess
my heart shrinks when I contemplate the reve-
lations he must hear before he dies.”

Graduall the wounded man revived: mo-
mentarily e grew stronger, until, after the
lapse of an hour, he conversed with the physi-
cian and J acinto.

He had several times essayed to address Ju-
lian or De Leon, but Viscarra forbade it.

A movement was visible near the rear of the
room and the men stepped back. One gaze,
and Zarate sprung to his feet With superhuman
Show only to sink helplessly back.

“ elene Valencia, you escaped once, but you
do not nowl Seize her, seize her! Where’s
Bieovfl Did I not see him?”

 

  

THE EBON MASK. 29

“ Here I is—all tied up,” came from under the
e. ‘-

Helene hung tremblin ly upon her mother’s
arm. By her side stood ulian, and a. little in
advance the mysterious Leota. ‘
his vile bosom swelled with hatred and jealous
{13 he beheld them, sweet Helene and her nob 6
over.

De Leon stood by Leota’s side. Waving his
hand to enjoin silence, he fixed his stern gaze
upon Zarate, and addressed the group:

“My friends, it may seem inopportune to
some of you—those of you who are unacquninted
with what I shall shortly reveal—thus to harass
the last moments of a dying man.”

The wounded officer started and shivered. De
Leon continued:

“ To us who know who are familiar with the
course iursued by him, no punishment is un-
mercifu . Now, Colonel Zarate, to you I speak.
Listen.” He stepped nearer the dying man.

“ Know me, not as colonel in the Spanish
army—not as ‘ an equal in rank ’ with yourself,
but, as one who has watched your most secret
doings, who has known much of your private
life of wickedness. Know me as one who ap-
preciates your entire incapacity as commander
of the troops, as one who understands you thor-
oughly.

‘ Look upon me, Antonio Zarale, and recog-
nize the secret agent of our king, who was
placed here to guard the royal interests, and
spy the actions of many who little suspect to
purpose. You, Colonel Zarate,have been watche ,
and through the agency of a few firm friends

' your victims have escaped your machinations.

Your conduct has been reported, and the kin
declares you removed and cashiered, shoul
you survive this; such is your doom. And, my
friends.” he added, turning to the group, who,
astounded and surprisestricken—with two ex—
ceptions—listened to his words, “ I am also in-
structed by the same authority to grant full
and free pardon to Pepe Pinto, charged with
dcsertion; and to J ulian St. John, accused oi!
aiding in the same, but which is, I know, a. base
fabrication.”

De Leon paused, and it would be impossible
to describe the awful look in the wretched
Zarate’s face. Horror, consternation, incredu-
lousness and shame were blended in his counte-
nance as he gazed, helplessly, at the king’s agent.

“ Other revelations, the blackest of social
crimes, stand against your name, Colonel Za-
rate, and as you seem before a sort of tribunal,
you shall hear them before you s to the ter-
rible presence of the Judge of rig t and wrong.”

Noiselessly a graceful figure, clad in deepest
mourning, glide u to Zarate where he lay, his
head reclining on V iscarra’s breast.

“ Do you remember ‘ Leota o! the Eben Mask,’
whose warning you despised? I am she; and I
Will honestly confess, in, thus coming to on,
more pain is experienced than leasure. at,
for humanity’s sake, for her e, the spotless
Helene, I come.

“ Antonio it is many years ago, but don’t you
remember the shady cotta on the banks of the
softly-flowing Guadalqui , where the sweet
flowers bloomed. and balmieet breezes blew?

  

30

Don’t you remember another flower, a human
blossom, whom you swore to protect and
cherish love and guard? One who gave her
young heart in all its freshness and girlish pu-
rity to you, her husband? Yes, Antonio, you
have not forgotten her, though you thought she
had ceased to think of you. Do you remember
your wife—Isabella .9”

She threw off her heavy mask-vail.

“My God, Isabella! What do you here!” he
groaned.

Helene darted forward, and gazed earnestly
in Leota’s face.

“ My promise is fulfilled, dear child, never to
unmask till I disclosed his wickedness.”

Of the assembled group but two seemed calm

and unsurprised—De Leon and the Senora Va- ;

lencie.
“Another word, Antonio: would you look
upon the features of a. beauteous maiden, spot-

less and pure, despite your machinations?

W'ould you see her again who bears the name of
Helene Valencie’.I She is here; gaze upon her,
not as such, but—listen and thank God you es-

caped the awful crime—as Helene Zarato—your i

child and mine I”
She turned to Helene, with a cry of rapture.
“ Darling, darling, my daughter, my own
sweet child!” and she pressed her wildly to her

eart.

“Thank God, my mother, my precious mother!
How sweet it is—mother, dear mother l”

The two seemed almost exhausted in their
heavenly joy; the sight was one angels would
smile upon, and bless.

In' speechless astonishment the assembled
friends looked on; Julian stood like one in a
dream, gazing first upon the mother, then u on
the weeping child; from them to Signora a-
lencie, who nodded pleasantly upon the tableau
and to the dying colonel, his blanched face an
staring eyes glued upon Helene.

One gaze was sufficient to read his soul. He
was overwhelmed. It was too much, all this
overpowering news, and he sunk beneath it, as
a child cowers under a. blow. Gradually his
frozen lips framed one word—“ Helene!”

She turned her tearful eyes upon him, then
buried them in her mother’s breast.

But Julian stood like one possessed.

“I can not understand it,” he ejaculated,
passing his hand bewilderingly over his brow.

“But ’tis true; true as the Scriptures; and
the proof, look at us!”

Leota—or Signora Zarate—tumed her face
and Helene’s toward the lover. He gazed
scrutinizingly at them.

“Yes, it is so; the same lustrous hair; the
same beautiful eyes, the expression, the voice,
the manner. Mother—my mother; I am your
son. You will not reject the love of another
child?”

 “Never,” she replied, tenderly. “Here, Ju-
lian,” she said, uniting their hands and clasp-
ing them in her own, “receive my blessing—a
mother’s warmest benison. May 6 who has so
sign y favored us and restored us all to each
otherr, ever love, and guide, protect and bless
all
yJulian bent and pressed a, loving kiss on

1

THE EBON MASK.

 

Helene’s fair cheek. tears of Joy coursing down
their faces; the mother and tostenmother em-
braced her in SMnt jo , while the rough men,
the hardy soldiers, cou d not repress the rising
tears, and struggled vainly to conceal their
emotion. All but Zarate, who, in his abject
flier, was more repulsive than when defiant.
l e did not seem to relapse, and the surgeon
1 proposed taking him a sin to his quarters,
‘ where he could be cared or.
I “ No, no, I won’t go,” he whispered. “Let me
i die! Ruined, disgraced, what have I to live
- for? A wife who hates me achild who fears
‘ me, enemies on every hand. No, no, I won’t
‘l live; I must die 1”

Something of the old spirit had returned.
“And, again, Zarate,” said De Leon, “let me
I ap ared so pleased with your

diabolical p ans. t was policy ' you remember
;‘ I never suggested any thing. it was necessary
I should do so, in order to prove what was long
' suspected. And with the aid of your injured
l wire, or ‘Leota' and ‘Nina ’Itook good care
that no ultimate harm shou d befall your vic-
tims. The challenge to the duel was accidental,
but a well-fitting link in the chain of events that
has led to this and result. ” ..
th“Where is inai” asked Helene, of her mo«

er.

“She is here now, darling. I will call her.”

Leota left the room, and in a second Nina,
with her beautiful vail of flowing hair, entered.

“ Did not Nina tell the forest—bird the hunter
Iliadwa strong arm and a stout heart to save '

er.

Helene started as she heard the voice. There
was something, a memory of an indistinct past,
g longing for something, a vague, unsatisfactory

ee mg.

“ Nina will say adieu, forever, to the forest-
flower. But the warm sun and the refreshing
dew will ever invigorate and enliven and beau-
tif her. Nina. goes forever. Adieu l”

he quietly withdrew, as Leota returned, her
vail laid aside.

“ Has she gone so quickly?” asked she.

“No, signora; ‘ Nina’ still remains no 16$
loved than ‘Leota’——no less admired 1: an ‘Isa-
bella.’ Allow me,” said Julian, archly, with a,
wise smile. '

He unpinned her wealth of hair; it fell almost
to her feet, shading her sweet face, and “Nina”
smiled from under it. _

The illusion was complete, and the triple
mask was unmasked!

“ A few vi ords of explanation might be inter-
esting, and if you are willing I will tell you.”

“ Zarate, may I tell them about it?” asked his
wife, gently.

He assayed to speak, but his strength seemed
unequal to the kink. His face had lost every
trace of its former fiendishness, and he looked
like a weary child.

“Husband, will you listen to me—-to Isabella,
your wife?”

How strangely tender, how unspeakany re-
proachful in its sweetn, sounded that long
unused title. I

His eye lighted suddenly, and he whispered to
Viscarra. I . ’ -- v

‘ explain wh

 

 

THE neon MASK. '41

 

"Lady, he requests a last favor—one he feels
utterly unworthy of. He would beg you to
take my place.”

Unhesitatingly she arose, and motioning Vis-
carm away, tenderly took her husband’s head
and rested it on her bosom, smoothing the damp,
disordered hair. He grasped her hand. tightly,
and lovmgly caressed it.

I “Isabella, m'ia card, I am dying, dying; go-
ing down to my doom with a heavy load on m
soul. _Oh, 1m wife, I don’t blame you for l
the misery have experienced this day, for I
have caused you a. thousand-fold more. De
Leon, we were friends once, over in beautiful
Spain, were we not? Then, for the sake of that
past, forgive rue—me, who twenty-four hours
ago would have scorned asking forgiveness of
any one. And oh—”

His voice grew faint, and a cold sweat stood
on Ns l‘row.

" But your promised explanation, senora?”

She gently caressed the head lying on her

' forgiving bosom—and what can not a wife for-

givci—whicli soon would be forever at rest un-
der the cold earth that waited to receive him,
and in a low, soft voice related her story:

“It was twenty years ago that I met my
ideal of manlv excellence in my umble home
at Xeres de Fontana, in beautiful Spain, just
where the proud Guadalquivir poured its broad
waves into the sea. It was there where I learned4
to love him, there-where he whispered to my
willing ear the oft-told tales of love so
sweet to me. In six months we were
married, at the little chapel in Xeres do
Fontana, by our priest, and as his wife
I was blissfully liap )y; Isabella St./ Al-
bian never dreamed 0 such joy as Isabella
Z'imte experienced. But only a short fort-
night did live thus. One morning my bus-
band went away. as usual. but he never re-

turned.

“ Months rolled on, and then I knew I would
be a mother—of his child and mine—of him
who had left his girl-wife, who never would
look upon his baby’s face.

“'And then Helene, my blackeyed darling,
came to console my worse than widowed heart
with her baby sweetness. ,

“Antonio, you didn’t know it, did you?” she
asked him.

She grew in beauty and health. and it was
when she acquired the age of two ears, that I
determined to take her and search or him. So,
' accompanied by my widowed sister, Elise Val-
enc" , whom I persuaded to appear as the babe’s
mot er, I started after my husband.

“For some time I was unsuccessful; from
place to place I journeyed, but the regiment

ad always left, and at length, discouraged, I
was about abandoning my design, when I
learned. he had one to America: and to Amer-
ica I came, leavmg my child and her ‘ mamma,’
as she called my sister in Spain.

“_For 9. Ion time I remained in Pensacola,
acting my ro e of ‘Nina,’ thereb frequently
' seeing my husband, Then I sent ,or Elise and
, my daughter-a, beautiful girl of sixteen, who

had uired a superior education in her native

910‘!
land. As ‘crazy Nina,’ she became interested-

 

in me: and ohl the‘anzuish of my soul when I

watched her budding loveliness and yearned to
have her call me ‘motherl’ But I only could
guard her, and I did; then, when she first met

ulian St. John, how I watched him to see if he
were worthy my peerless Helene. That he was,
you may know by the present engagement ex-
isting between them.

“At last I formed in my mind the plan of
adoptin another disguise, and, as ‘ Leota. of the
Eben ask,’ I appeared on various occasions,
still preserving my character as ‘Nina,’ the
more to mystit'y the villagers.

d “Ypu all know how I succeeded; my story is
one.

{is she finished, Zarate spoke, in a husky
veice:

“ My injured wife, I feel you have forgiven
me, else I could not lie hero. I am dying, and
soon shall be gone. But there is one re uest I
would make. Helene, oh, Helene, my chi 01, my
daughter, can you, can you forgive me—your
dying, repentant father?” .

He reached forth his hand, and his eyes
beamed tenderly u 11 her.

She clung to ulian in her agitatiou, and
looked inquirineg at her mother.

“My (laughter, come hither. You and Ju-
lian,” said she, gently.

They obeved, and stood before the dying man,
who gazed long and earnestly at her sweet face,
SO‘l‘lflfelilel‘ mot('.’hei"i-‘i;ma I _ _d1

c me, an r, am om re 1 y—
quick, tell me,‘amgI forgiven?” g g p

“As I hope to be forgiven, so do I forgive
all,‘my father,” and steeping, she imprinted a
lov1ng kiss on his lips.

_An expression of inefl'able delight swept over
his face, and making a. violent effort be grasped
Julian’s hand, 'oined it to Helene’s and pressed
them feebly to is lips.

Elf, turned to Isabtfltlp.

m goin ' oo - —so unworth —for iv-
en—daughte§;’$ y y g
_The‘ soul took its flight, as the last breath
lingered lovingly on that sweet name.

The commandante was deadi

And new our story is almost done; yet 10th
to leave our readers at a death-bed, we beg
them to linger a moment while we hastily
sketch (1 scene in the large room on the bay
shore, Where Isabella Zarate resided. Three
months elapsed, and then the garb of mourning
was replaced by the garments of reimcing.

A fair bride was beauteOus He she, in her
snowy robes, and fragrant orange-buds; and
Julian not a whit less handsome in his proud
manliness. The priest has blessed the blushing
bride, audtogetber, under fairest auspices, they
cogmence their life’s 1journey.

eaven speed em

De Leon is there, and the peerless. Isabella;
Pepe Flute and the fair “auntie ” Elise Valen-
cie; and rumor says strange th ugs about an-
other nu tial arty. when Julian shall congratu- ’
late his ‘gn ed,“Uncle Pepe!” .

Ricovi was ustly punished, while Jose Em
bedo received 3 meritorious acquittal. ,

. nu: nun;

 

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