LITERATUBE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5692, 9 August 1886, Page 1

LITERATUBE.

[NOW FIRBT FUBLIBHBIVJ

THE TREASURE OF THORBURN&

£By F&hdbriok Boyle, author ok "On the Border Land," " A Goob Hateb," "Camp Notbb," &c.j {This Story will he continued in. ow issue of Wednesday next.) THE MAN-SNAKE.- AN OLD STROLLER'S TALE. •(Written for the New York Clipper, by Nathan D. TJrner.) ■Tfc was in the early days of theatricals, •or even barn-storming, in the then com--paratively primitive and thinly-inhabited Ohio valley, that a group of an merry and care-free strolling players as could well be found anjrwhere, were proceeding towards Cincinnati by the old river road under ■rather discouraging circumstances. 'An accident to the steamboat on which they, had been travelling, from Louisville had left the party no alternative in their •depleted finances bnt to foot it from North Bend, the old home of Tippeeanoe Harrison, a distance of twenty miles, after paying a teamster for the transportation of their "baggage, in order to fill their date at Shires* Garden Theatre on the evening of the same day. While trudging along the hot, <lusty turnpike, within two or three miles of our destination, rather late in the afternoon, we were overtaken by a gentleman on horseback, who suddenly reined up, eyeing us in a strangely malevolent and suspicious way. "What! strollers — strolling players?" he ejaculated, with imperious contemptuous•nees and a strangely sibilant accentuation. " Well, fellows, you may find enough devilworshippers to welcome your impious performances in Cincinnati, but if the Godfearing element of this communisy could iave ita way, yon should sooner rot in gaol than disport your iniquities on the public stage! Out upon you all! The theatre is the devil's workshop !" Now, there was not wanting either spirit or courage among U3, but a certain unearthly terribleness in the speaker's personality held us unaccountably silent and submissive under this man's brutal and uncalled-for abuse. Tall, slender, athletic, and elegantly attired, the stranger's face and figure were so absolutely snakish in their suggestiveness as to be positively appalling. If ever a deadly, venomous serpent looked out menacingly from the human form, it did so on this occasion. The magnetic, dilating eyea, the retreating partly-bald forehead, the low, level, threatening brows, the slightly-wrinkled, parchment-like cheeks, the glistening, fang- like teeth, fitfully seen between the yet quivering lips, made up a ' condensed and malign entirety that fairly curdled the blood of the beholder. Even a •sinuous, wavering something in the flexible frame; and in the long powerful hands, •arms and limbs, went to support the general ophidian impression conveyed. Our three ladies betrayed their terror 'wunistakeably, little Gipsy Harden, our pretty soubrette, going so far as to hide her face from the horseman's basilisk stare, even before he had drawn rein to regard us attentively. ' Jack Turnbull, our heavy man, and the acknowledged fighter of our troupe, was, ■ the first to recover sufficiently to return an answer to the brutal address. "We are honest professionals, trying to earn an honest livelihood/* said he. "Go on your way! Those who dislike our calling need not give us so much as a •thought." " Oho ! Need they not then P"* snarled the horseman, in his deadly, half-hissing voice. "Look to yourselves, though'! ■ Crime is already in the air hereabouts. If ■any new elements are added thereto, I, as •one of the City Fathers, may look to your godless crew for an explanation. Strollers — strolling players ! " And with this he put spurs to the magni:ficent coal black animal he bestrode, and dashed on like the wind. While commenting among ourselves on the strange effect the man had exercised ■upon us, we for the first time remarked the superlative terror of Miss Marden who had at last unveiled her pretty face to startle us with its agony of fear. " Oh, let U8 break our engagement '! " ■aid she wildly. "I had hoped that he would not have returned from abroad. But he is here again ! " " Whafc ! do jon know that man ? " cried several voices at once. . " Know him ? It was Isaac Twiner, my cruel uncle and guardian you have all heard me speak about. And those erimeo he spoke of!.; It must be that 1 the mysterious strangler of some years ago has again got to work. This is terrible ! Lot ub fail to meet our engagement at Shires* XSarden ! " We partly understood her terror now, but of course the idea of disappointing the Cincinnati manager was not to be thought • of. Gipsy Marden, as she called herself, was ;a beautiful and 'talented orphan who had been with us two years. She had assumed ithat norm, de : guerre when first joining our in NewiOrleans, but had made no raecret with us of her having run away from 3ier tyrannous guardian. She had also told niß something of th© terrible Beries of mystterious crimes— ail evidently perpetrated by one person and by the same method, ithat of strangling -— which had shortly .preceded her flight from Cincinnati, and in •the endeavours to fathom which her guardian had made 'himself popularly conspicuous. She had been impelled to her •flight by the persietentimportunities of her guardian, who had also been her mother's half-brother, that she should marry him, j»nd <thus sacrifioe on the altar of his mature affection not only -her attractive jouth and beauty, bat also the large estate that he held in trust for her. The' : latter ••she -had willingly eacrificed in order to -escape ithe man's oawelcouie and even "terrifying attentions,, aaxd her aptitude for &er new profession, in which she had had iptevious experience as an amateur, had •soon provided her witfc a decent, if some"fcimes precarious livelihood. Twiner had gone abroad, after using every means in "Ilia power to discover her whereabouts, but without success, and tike fugitive had fondly imagined herself eecure at Last, when this unexpected apparition of her •enemy on the river road had once more leviyed her terrors. " 'I was the walking-gentleman, as well as ihe manager of the company, end had long before this fallen deeply in love m£h <Sipsy. My passion was reciprocated, but up to this time sba fcad steadfastly refused my entreaties for a marriage uctil her private affairs should be secured beyond question against future annoyance, either by the death of her unnatural guardian or fey &er assuming possession of her fortune, for she was as yet only a minor in th« eye of the law. Such was the situation on the occasion at our entering the Qunea City of the West &t the close of that eventful afternoon. By this time the good spirits of the company had re-asserted themselves, and we lost no. time in putting up at the Brighton House, a comfortable but inexpensive hotel, and making oar devoirs to the management. And in spite of the gloom that seemed to hang over the community, by reason of the recurrence of the mysterious murders, we prepared to open that evening in one of our favourite comedies under promising auspices. Shire*' GsxAen Theatre was at that time one of the noted .establishments in the West. Our hopes were not disappointed. We)

( scored a fair success, and returned to our : hotel in. excellent spirits. The hotel was | on the outskirts of the town, and was over- | crowded by reason -of a County fair that ! was being held in the vicinity. Turnbull j and I were assigned to a small room con- < taining three beds provided with the inevij table mosquito-nettings, near the top of j <the house, our three ladie3 being accommo- ■ dated in an adjoining apartment, and the rest of the Company disposed of to the landlord's satisfaction, if not exactly to their own. It was a hot, breathless, moonlight autumn night, and Jack and I were about to seek our repose, when we overheard a conversation in the bar-room to the effect that the more recent crime of tho mysterious series had been perpetrated in a neighbouring cottage, where an old but 6till strong and vigorous proprietor had been found murdered in his bed, with the hideous constrictive marks about his throat and breast that were peculiar to the •assassin's handiwork. No robbery had accompanied the graver crime, which, as in all of its predecessors, appeared to have been altogether profitless to the fiendish doer. It was an ugly thought to go to bed in a strange house, but our morbid curiosity got the better of us, and we eagerly sought details from the man who was talking. This was the eighth of the hist series of strangling crimes in less than half as many montha, he informed us. As yet, it had been impossible to fasten suspicion on any one. But the authorities, as well as the public, were at last aroused to the extremity of horror and indignation, and the strangling assassin mußt soon be run to earth. Mr Twiner, the President of the Common Council, had induced that body to double the reward heretofore offered. He was a miracle of virtuous energy himself, ably assisted by the Mayor and a •capable police force, and the human fiend could not long Continue his concealment. Both Jack aud I were at once Bferuck by the mention of Mr Twiner's name. " What sort of man ia he ?" I asked. " What is his personal appearance V* Ortr informant laughed. "Once seen, he could never be forgotten," said he. "He looks for all the world like a Bnake. At least, Mr Twiner somehow suggests a serpent the moment you look at him." "Yes," said the landlord, joining in. " There are few who can look upon Isaac Twiner without a shudder. In fact, once he sued and mulcted in smart damages a brother Alderman for styling him ' the man-snake " in the course of a heated debate, and since then people; have both feared and respected him." " And a virtuous, noble character, for all that, you aay ?" "He'svery rich and very public-spirited," said the innkeeper, " but a little too sanctimonious for my taste." " For mine, too/* Baid. the other. "He drove his ward — a beautiful young girl, named Effle Harden— away from her home with him by his Brutal treatment,, and is now said to be employing her fortune in .his business, which is that of a commission merchant. If she would only show up again now, I fancy he, would have a tough time of it. The other trustee of the girl's property is her full uncle, old Jake Harden, on her father's side. He has just returned from the East, has been made chief of the detective service here, and would like nothing better, I think, than to have Erne's authority for forcing Twiner to an accounting." " What does the chief-detective think of these mysterious murders P'M asked, after a pause. " He's as much mystified as anyone else, I suppose," said the landlord. "*But he would give anything to lay first handson the fiend, you may be sure of that — just to get ahead of Twiner, whom Harden cordially detests. Come, gentlemen, take something cooling with me, by way of a night-cap." (To be continued.)