Orion, The Gold Beater; OR, True Hearts and False.

Auckland Star, Volume XX, Issue 171, 20 July 1889, Page 6

Orion, The Gold Beater; OR, True Hearts and False.

A TALE OF NEW YORK LIFE. Bt'SYLVANUS COBB, Junk., Author of the "Gunmaker of Moscow," "The Storm Secret," Etc., Eto. CHAPTER XV. THE ABDUCTION. It was not until the middle of the afternoon that Constance Milmer dared to venture out. She was nob a coward, bub the long months of suffering she had passed, and the toil she had undergone, had seemed to shatter her nervous system,and slight causes, which would once have only nerved her up to action, now startled her heart into a fierce palpitation, and unnerved her completely. She knew thab the woman who had so boldly robbed her was a reckless, depraved being, .and long indulgence at the ginbottle might have so far undermined her reason that she would nob hesitate to shoot one whom she thought was going to betray her. Bub. at three o'clock the poor widow went out, taking Lizzie with her, for she darednot leave her child behind. She went directly across to the Mission, where she found the missionary, and told her story. She wanted a little food. The good man would have given her what she said she needed, but she only wanted food enough to last her till the morrow. She told the principal that her friend would come then, and she hoped he would have a good place for her. Having assured himself that the applicant needed for the present nothing but food, the missionary sent for oho of the attendants, who soon brought a couple of loaves of bread, some butter, some milk, and a few slices of cold meat. All save the milk she could carry in a paper, and for that they lent her a small pitcher, which she promised to return in the morning. ' Don'.t you know the name of the woman who robbed you ?' asked the gentleman, while Lizzie was taking a sip of the milk. ' No, sir,' returned Constance. ' I have seen her.. She used to keep the dreadful place in the two rooms jusb at tho head of the stairs where I live. She is the one who came near killing the poor little girl thab ran away from her last winter.' 'Oh, yes, I know now,' said the missionary." 'She has gone by the name of Santa Snuggins. I have seen her prowling about here several time, lately. I will keep my eyes upon her.' When the poor widow and her child reached their desolate home they ate a hasty meal, and then they went at work to pack up what few things they had left. The work was not a tedious one, and all was ready before dark. As the shades of night began to gather prematurely about the dismal, place Constance wished that she had asked the folks at the Mission to let her remain there overnight. She was sure they would have readily consented had she 6sked the question, and she almost blamed herself for having neglected to do it. And then little Lizzie seemed afraid to remain another night in tho dreadful place. She feared thab she should have some more horrid dreams, ' Never mind for that,' said her mother, drawing her upon her bosom. ' If nothing J Vorse than that happens we shall be very .ortunate, for after to-night we shan't have to stay here any more.' Still the woman was not so well satisfied as she tried to make her child She liad a strong mind to go over to the Mission and try to get lodgings there. But she put it off too long. Sho took too much time for consideration. Night came on, and it came quickly, too. Constance had, fairly thrown on her shawl and hood to go out, and was upon the point of tying on Lizzie's little hat, when there came a blaze qf light in at the window thab almost blinded them f for the moment. A quick dry o. alarm escaped from the child's lips,, and just then a clap of thunder came that made the house tremble from roof to dellar. Constance started up to close the window, for the wind had suddenly arisen, and came driving around the corners of the adjoining houses with cold, ungrateful power. She had hardly closed the window when the rain began to tall in great drops, and pretty soon the lightning came again. ' Must we stay now,?' tho child asked. j M guess wi. had better,' returned the mother. • It is very dark and stormy, and tfte Mission may be shut up.' .'• Bub I' should think they would keep it open more when it stormed,' argued Lizzie. " 'Perhaps they do,' admitted Constance, '■but still we had better stay here.. We shan't be troubled on such a night. You know there are sometimes very wicked men in the streets, they ain't afraid of raiH - When they wish to do any wicked work. We will stay here to-night, darling.' r[As soon as the child was made to realise fctat there might be danger to her mother in .ven.ur.Dg, out.she said nothing more against staying. ■■■ : The lightning continued to flash at regular • intervals, and the loud thunder came" crashing down with quaking power. ' The rain pattered heavily upon the roof ] —fcfor there was no room above the one the widow occupied, it being in the upper storey of what had originally been built for i a shed—so the great drops sounded very 1 plainly as they fell, and the.music was 1 ghostly and dirge-like. 1 . Ere long, the" mother and child were I forced to geb upon the bed, for the roof leaked badly, and in all other places the < water came dripping down till it formed l heavy pools, and then ran off in streams, to- j wards the fireplace, and into the holes in i the floor. There was one. small piece of candle left, and having lighted it they set it . up in the mouth of a black bottle which ; stbod upon- the floor, and then the poor woman got her little worn Bible and sat < down to read; <•,_,, : "°_£ distant clock struck the hour of nine j ftS'Conatanca closed the good book, and she

had taken Lizzie upon her lap to pray with her, when they were both startled by hearing a heavy footfall in the passage. They listened, and it approached the door ! ' Suppose ib should be that wicked man !' whispered the •child, fearfully. The mother could not reply. The same thought came to her own mind, and ib filled her soul wibh berror, 'Blowout the light, and perhaps he won't know we are here,' suggested Lizzie. Quick as thought the widow did so, and then clasping her child closely to her bosom she awaited the resulb. Ib was soon evident that there were two men instead pf one, and thab they were coming towards the door. 'Oh! they have a light!' the mother whispered, as she saw the beams through a chink of the door before which they had stopped. Hardly had she spoken when a heavy hand was laid upon the latch ; but the door was fastened upon the inside. 'Hallo, there !' cried a voice, which was at once recognised as Duffy Glicker's. 'Let's come in !' But Constance made no reply. ' Let's come in, I say,' repeated the voice. ' Halloa ! Don't you hear me ?' This last call was accompanied by a heavy kicking upon the door, and for a few moments afterwards all was still. The woman's heart beat fearfully, even so that the child, whose head lay upon it, could feel ib. ' Now say—there's no use o' this !' cried the applicant. ' We know you're in there, 'cause ye've been watched. I seed ye come over from the hypocrite's mission, and I know ye're here. So just open the door, or we'll break ib down for ye ! Come !' Constance moved, but she did nob arise. If she had been seen bo enter—and from the fact that Glicker knew she had been over to bhe Mission she knew bhat he must have seen her —then she had little hope of escape. Yet she could nob speak, nor would she leb her perscutor in. ' Once more—will ye open bhe door ?' A few momenbs the applicants waited, and then they applied their strength to the door. But it needed no great force to accomplish their purpose, for the only fastening was a wooden button, which flew off at the first pressure they brought to bear upon ib, and on bhe nexb momenb Glicker came bumbling inbo bhe room, the momentum of his body having not been more than half overcome by the resistance of the door. But he managed to regain his equilibrium without falling or loosing his lantern. He was quickly followed by Bill Slumpkey, who closed the door behind him. Poor Constance ! She gazed up into the dark features of the bad man, and then instinctively covered her face with her hands. 'So I've.come back, ye see,' uttered Glicker, holding oub his lantern so as to throw the light upon her face. 'Your good kind friend didn't make much, only to get us placed under bonds to keep bhe peace, and bo lay up a prebby pickle for himself. I've been a-wabchin' of ye, my dear, and now I've come to give ye a good comfortable home.' ' You will nob take me from here,, sir !' the widow cried, gazing up with her hands clasped. 4 Why—what a creetnr for choice you musb bo,' returned bhe villain, wibh a low, grating laugh. 'D'ye mean that you'd rather stay here ?' 'I didn't mean thab. I wouldn't stay here always. I can find a good home somewhere. Oh, in Heaven's name, sir, I pray you let me alone ! I cannot go with you.' ' Oh, bub you musb. I've been and gob a place all fixed for ye ; and 'twould be a greab disappointment nob to have ye come. I know'd yer husband was dead—poor man! I pity him for having to leave such a pooty wife, and I held myself off till ye'd have time to git kind o' calmed down like. Bub now I've come, and you musb go wibh me. Come—gib ready as soon as you can.' 'Bub you would nob force me out into such a storm as this, sir?' urged the woman. ' Ha—there ye're miscaikerlated my natur, my dear. Now jesb see whab a bender seb o' feelins I've goti I've febched a coach for ye. What d'ye think o' that? Come—now be kind, and don't make any more fuss.' What could poor Constance do ? In the morning Orion Lindell would be there, and, from that time, could "she reach ib Unharmed, she would be safe." Oh.! why had. ■she nob stopped ab"the Mission ? Had she remained there, as she might have done, this dread meeting would have been escaped ! Only a few short hours between this and morning—between the storm ahd the haven, and yeb the evil had come! Oh! could she but gain those few hour's—could !she but put off her enemy until morningshe might yet be saved. •Duffy Glicker,' she cried in a wild, beseeching tone, ' let me "be here till morning. Do not force me away to-night! A few hours can make no difference !' ' And what difference can thab make bo you?' quickly reborbed bhe villain, with a peculiar twist of the face. ' My—jusUook at this floor. The rain comes in here like a deluge. Of course you wouldn'b want to stay here. 'Twouldn't be safe. You'd Jcetch cold. Come—don't bother any more, for the horses are standin' in the rain.' ' Why don'b you bake her up an' fetch her along?' interposed Slumpkey, in a gruff, ugly tone. ' I shall just do that thing if she don't move pooty soon,'responded Glicker. And then- turning to the woman, he added, • Now, come, or you'll be helped. I can be decent to a woman ; but I can't stand everything. Put on yer. togs as soon as ye can. That's aU I've got to say !' Constance Milmer arose to her feet and moved to where her hood and shawl were hanging. She took them down, but she hesitated about putting them on. Her hands trembled, and the emotion sent the quiver bhrough her whole frame. ' Duffy Glicker,' she said, turning to the dark man, and speaking as though she was making hor last effort, ' Why do you hunt me thus ? Why is it that you would carry '. me away ? Whab purpose can you have ?' : ' Never you mind thab now, my dear. Jusb gib ready and come along, and ab a i proper time you shall know all aboub ib.' ' Bub tell me, sir—oh! you want some . concession from me. Leb me know what, ' arid I may yield ab once, and bhen you can go your way, and let go mine.' ,'Pooh! You don't know nothh.''bout ib, :

i> woman. You've got to go with me, and • the sooner you git ready the quicker you'll - be over it.' Thus far the man spoke in a calm, half-joking tone, bub here a change I came over his countehance. He assumed a look of fearful import, and in a hissing tone i he added, ' Now jesb look here : Will ye i be carried down or will ye walk? 'Will ye go quietly, or will ye be gagged ? Will ye i behave yourself, or will you have some ruffles pub on your wrisbs ? Now ye have it plain, plump, and square; and yell have , jesb one minute to make up your mind in !' There was no mistaking the man's mean- ' ing now. Even little Lizzie seemed to 1 realise its full import, for she crept to her mother's side, and in a low spasmodic tone ' she uttered: 1 Don'b leb him hurb you, mamma !' Constance understood ib, and her resolution was taken from that moment. She would go with him where he wished—she ' would obey him while'he had the power to enforce; but when it should come to a point beyond that, then she would turn to her Gcd and givo to Him alone her life and her honour ! As this resolution came to her soul 3he grew calm and collecbed. Wibh a sbeady hand she pub on her shawl and hood, and bhen burned to her persecutor. ' I am ready,' she said. ' And yell go nice and quietsome, will yer?' ' I will go with you, sir.' ' But ye won't holier V * I shall nob, sir 1' 'Now ye balk. Come, my little dear,' he continued, turning to Lizzie. ' Yell have a good home now. This man'll carry ye in his arms all nice and snug.' ' But you won'b bake me away from my mamma ?' bhe child cried, in terror. ' In course we won't, ye little scarecrow, yer.' Thus speaking he took the little one up in his arms, and then turning to his companion, he added: •I'll go ahead with the calf, and the mother'll be sure to follow.' And so, laughing ab his own coarse joke, he wenb on, while Glicker followed, leading the woman by the hand. He closed the door behind him, and ere long they reached bhe sbreeb, where axovered coach, wibh bwq horses abbached, was standing. Tho driver had to growl a little on account of having been kept so long in bhe rain, bub his employer book no notice of ib. Constance was helped into the carriage at once, the child having been put in before her, and while Glicker was following bhem bo the inside, Mr Bill Slumpkey climbed up on the outside to a seat by the driver, and in a moment more they were driven off. Poor Constance had been longing for the hour to come which should seb her free from the wretched place which she had been forced to call home ; but now, as she caught tho last glimpse of the old wooden stairway as the coach turned the corner into Anthony-street, her hearb sank wibhin her, and she would have given all she possessed of worldly goods bO have been back, for bhe dark, cheerless nighb, in the pestilential chamber ! For from that place she could look forward to the coming of another day with a bright hope ; but now she had no source of hope left, save such as the drowning man may have who grasp 3 at straws which float around him ! The rain still fell in torrents, and ever and anon the vivid lightnings flashed through the sky, followed by the crash of the thunderbolt. Constance gazed out of the window, and she saw the waters in the gutters rußhing on in torrents, while the pavements and the flagging-stones reflected the gas-lighb from their flooded surfaces. Upon the sidewalks she saw men hurrying on with quick steps, many of them wet and cold, and ofben_ she would meet an upturned face upon which she was sure she could read the spirit of envy. Envy of her because she was probected from bhe sborm ! Oh ! how gladly would she have taken her child in her arms and rushed' forth into the storm, with her head bared, and her bosom all exposed, could she have been free from the power of him who held her where she was ! She knew thab the coach had been in Cha.ham-sbreeb, and she believed that she was now passittg down East Broadway ; but beyond bhis she was nob acquainted. When7the coach turned off into a narrow street she could kieep the run of her course no more. She watched eagerly for some landmarks, bub the. horses dashed on so swiftly -hah she could read none of tho Signs. At length', however, she saw one which she'could plainly decipher, as the turning of the corner slackened the speed. It was a large sign, upon quite a small building, and read: ' Old Fly Market.' Jusb here bhey turned to the left, and ere many moments the coach was stopped. Bill Slumpkey immediately appeared at the door and threw it open. 4 Here we be,' he cried, as he leb down the Step. Glicker made no reply in words, but simply jumped out with the child in his arms, and having given ib to his companion he turned and gave his hand to Constance. She offered no resistance, nor did she hesitate : bub Bhe gob' oub quickly, and instinctively hurried after Slumpkey, who was conveying Lizzie up a narrow alleyway which led in from the street to a very small courb beyond, where some dismallooking houses were builb upon land which had been originally inbended for back-yards. Duffy Glicker came up with her, and took her by the hand. * -We've gob most home,' he said. * Come --right in bhis way.' As he spoke Slumpkey had just bhrown back a small gate, which opened the way to a little brick walk. A few yards further , on they came bo a short flight of wooden steps which led to a door. Here Slumpkey had to wait bill his companion came up, bhe latter having the latchkey 1 ; but the door was soon opened, and they passed into a small hall which wbuld. have been pitchy dart but for lantern, the lamp of which was still lighted. Here' Duffy took the lead,' starting up the stairs, with Constances hand still grasped in bis own. Up to thethird storeyhe went, where he opened a door, near the back parb of the building, which led to quite a respectable chamber. As soon as they were all In, the dark man ! turned to his prisoner. 1 There,'he uttered, emphatically, 'isn't ; this better than the plaoe where I took ye from ? I tell yer ye'd 'be Comfortable here, r

. Jest see what a nice bed ye've got. Now '. ye can- be jest as much at home here as , ye've a mind to.' Thus speaking he moved to the mantel , and lighted a small spirit lamp which stood there, and then turned towards the door. ' Yell be perfectly safe here,' he added, after Slumpkey had gone oub. • I shall come and see ye as soon as I can; but whether I come or not there'll be somebody to attend to yer wants. Good-night.' Constance Milmer gazed vacantly into the villain's face while he was speaking, but she made no reply. She saw him go out, and she heard him lock the door, and then she listened until she heard his footsbeps die away in the distance; and when she could hear no more, save the pattering of the rain, she caught her child to her bosom and burs into tears. She wept long and deeply, and the sobs of the little one were mingled with her own. It was the innocent child that first spoke the name of God, but in a momenb more the mother was upon her knee 3, and a solemn calmness crept o'er her spirit as she prayed. (To be Continued.J