MAUBIKECK,

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XV, Issue XXII, 30 November 1895, Page 687

MAUBIKECK,

THE LION-TAMER.

By

Seward W. Hopkins.

Author of ‘Jack Robbins of America.’ ‘ln the China Sea.’ ‘Two Gentlemen of Hawaii,' ‘On a False Charge,’ Etc., Etc. CHAPTER 11. •.Graviscourt’s genius for entertaining is indisputable,* said the major, on the follow ing evening, as he, Dilkins and I sat together, among a score or more kindred spirits, all forming an appreciative audience at Graviscourt’s * stag ' entertainment. * True,’ I replied, with a tinge of malice. * One almost forgets who his host is, with so much to amuse.’ The programme was a sort of vaudeville. There were songs, skirt dances, comic sketches by more or artists in their line, and the time was so well filled and passed so pleasantly that the hours glided by almost imperceptibly. Midnight was the hour for supper, and a royal supper it was. It was understood that after supper cards would be in order. An interval of half an hour was allowed for chat. During this interlude, the guests sauntered to and fro in the elegant parlours crony meeting crony and together admiring the paintings, brie-, a brae and sculpture, in the gathering of which Graviscourt was a master. Dilkins with his usual curiosity and push, was rummaging around in some cabinets he had succeeded in opening, and he suddenly electrified us all by exclaiming ; *By Jove 1 Dick ! Major ! Look at this !’ The major, Graviscourt and I reached him at the same moment. *By Heaven ! That face !’ he cried, thrusting a photograph into the major’s hand. ‘ That is a likeness of Alice Graviscourt, my Mother's wife, taken some four years before she died,’ said our host, calmly. •Is it?’ almost shouted Dilkins. *lf it isn’t the Queen of the Flying Trapeze, I’m a Dutchman.’ Even the major's face was a little pale. I looked over his shoulder. Suro enough, the face in the picture was very like the face of Nita Barlotti, but lacked the sadness that characterised the beautiful countenance of the circus girl. * What do you mean?’ asked Graviscourt. And the major told him about Nita and Maligni’s circus. * Probably more a fancied resemblance than a true one,’ he said calmly, as he took the photograph and replaced it in the cabinet from which Dilkins had removed it. Nothing more was said that night about the occurrence, but it had produced in my mind an impression that could not be shaken oft. Ata late hour I left, pondering deeply over the striking features in the photograph and their resemblance to the face of Nita Barlotti. On the following day when I awoke the first thoughts that came to me were of Graviscourt’s picture ot the dead woman. Having eaten my breakfast and taken a stroll, I found that no ellort of my will could efface from my mind the horrid suspicion that had lodged there. 1 was in the grasp of an impulse, and could not shake it off. Having fought it to no purpose, I resolved to give it full rein—to give my-elf up to the work of explaining, if explanation could be found, the resemblance between the wife of Charles Graviscourt and Nita Barlotti. With some wild fancy that 1 was furthering my own affaire and helping myself by seeking to overthrow Graviscourt, I was led by the extravagant phantom of my brain to Trinity Cemetery. Having arrived there, I sought and found the family plot of the Graviscourts, in which a marble monument reared its head over three graves. Three sides of the monument were carved. On one 1 read : SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF CHARLES GRAVISCOURT. Born. Feb. 18. 18—. Died. June 10. 18-. On another I read : ALICE BELOVED WIFE OF CHARLES GRAVISCOVRT. Born, April 6, 18—. Died, July 21. 18—. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.’ She has joined her Saviour. On the third : ALICE, NFANT DAUGHTER OF CHARLES AND ALICE GRAVISCOURT. Died. Oct. 4th. 18Aged 2 years. * What a fool I am !’ I muttered, as I

turned away. The air seemed to have grown chilly since I had come there, and I drew my coat close around me and returned to my carriage. Like all meddlers, having been disappointed, I was determined to try again, and my next visit was to the Bureau of Vital Statistics, at 301 Mott street. Upon making my errand known, some little wonder was apparent among the clerks, but. I was readily accommodated, and was soon looking over the death records of sixteen years before, the year in which occurred, according to the marble shaft in Trinity, the death of Alice, daughter of Charles and Alice Graviscourt. At last I found what I was looking for. I held in my hand the certificate of death of the child whose ultimely removal had made Ralph Graviscourt a millionaire. Nothing was wrong about the certificate. Every form of law had been complied with. The cause of death was small-pox. The signature of the physician attached was ‘C. Sigmotta, M.D.’ •Well, lam an infernal fool,’ I said to myself, as I again started homeward, foiled in my attempt to stir up a tragedy. * Really, 1 must learn to mind my own business. I have wasted an entire day trying to stir up ghosts that won’t be stirred. But having gone so far, I am going to take one step more and find out who “C. Sigmotta” was. I never heard of him, but it must be all right or the certificate would not have been accepted.' Doctor Dinsmore, the Secretary of the New York Medical Society, was a friend of long standing. I felt that I could rely upon him, and was soon at his door. He greeted me cordidly, and 1 had no difficulty in telling him what I wanted to know. He smiled, and proceeded to look over some old folios he had taken from a recess in his bookcase. After a few minutes spent thus, he said : ‘ I find here the name of Charles Sigmotta as a member of our society fourteen —fifteen — even twenty years ago. He does not seem to have been prominent, but little mention being made of him, except the fact that he attended meetings. I barely recall the name and do not recollect the man. But there is no doubt he was a physician in good standing. He is not a member now. Wait. Ah, here it is ! He resigned thirteen years ago. Where he is now. I do not know.’ •It is not important,’ 1 said. * What I want to know is this ; Sixteen years ago documents—say death certificates—signed by him would be above suspicion, would they not?’ • To the best of my knowledge and belief they would,’ replied Doctor Dinsmore. ‘ I know of nothing that indicates to the contrary.' Having once more had my suspicions laid to the ground I thanked the doctor and hurried home. I had finished with Graviscourt, but not with Nita Barlotti. The impulse to see her again was too strong to be controlled, and that evening I again occupied a box in Madison Square Garden The programme was exactly the same as it had been before, but I felt no interest in the opening act. Even the lion tamer failed to amuse, though I could not help being charmed by the massive beauty of the man. But I was there to see Nita Barlotti, and I sat impatiently until it came her turn to appear. But now I was doomed to a disappointment that was keen in the same measure as my former eagerness. Instead of Barlotti, there appeared on a small balcony, near the bandstand, the same greasy, mean-looking Italian who had led the trapeze queen away on the night of her successful debut. He was Rashly dressed, this Italian, in the style of a man fond of display and devoid of good taste. His clothes were loud and flaunting. He wore diamonds of prodigious size. He was his own ideal of a successful circus owner. Of that there could be no doubt. This creature bowed low to the audience that had poured their silver into hie coffers, and in a thick voice said : Ladies and Shestlemens : It haf become my sad duty to inform you dat you vill be disappointed great dis efening. De bright star, de von shining jewel, of this great aggregate one of mammoth attrac//one«, will net be able to appear before you dis efening. Signorina Barliotti haf been suddenly taken ill, and my regard for dis young lady is so great dat I haf insisted dat she remain quiet under de care of a doc tai re, until she haf fully recovered. I know, my dear friends, dat you will sympasics wiz our favourite trapeze queen, and will bear in good part dis gieat disappointment. And I vill assure you dat Signorina Barlotti is sad, and sends many regrets dat she is not able to attend dis efening. But if she is better to morrow efening, so dat it vill not do her any harm, don, maybe, I will allow her to come once more and gif you pleasure. My friends, I thank you.*

Bowing again, the Italian disappeared. I had been, perhaps, the most eager listener in that vast audience, and was certainly tho most disappointed. I had.half risen in my place while Maligni was speak

ing, and wan watching him through my glass. Standing near him, I saw Maubi keck, clad in odinary garb, and a finer at ecimen of man I never saw. The liontamer stood firmly on both feet, hia arms were folded and his head was bent as if listening to the speaker. On his handsome face there was an intense look—his brow was stern, his eyes cold and menacing, his lips slightly curved in a sneering smile. When Maligni hnd finished, Maubikeck shrugged hia shoulders and wa'ked away. ‘He loves Barlotti,' I said to myself, ‘and he loves her as few men love or have the power of loving. Some day, if Barlot Ci should return that love, there will be a c’ash, a crash and somebody’s blood will be spilled. And as between Maubikeck and Maligni. I would not give much for the latter gentleman’s chances.’ I did not tarry long. With a feeling of keen disappointment I left the Garden and went to my hotel. As I was going up the stairs to my room I met Major Simmons coming down. ‘ Well, well !’ he said, seizing me and turning me round under the electric light. * What the deuce has happened to you, boy’ You are not given to sudden disappearances that worry your friends. Explain why you have not been to the club. I came to see if you were ill.’ I was touched by this evidence of friendship on the part of a man so many years my senior, and shook his hand gratefully. • I am well, major. Come back with me and smoke a cigar while I tell you all about it.’ The resolve to unburden myself to my kind friend had cnme to me suddenly. It seemed to me that I needed a confidant, and there were only two men in New York to whom I was close enough to talk about this matter, and of these the major was surely the safest and be-t able to advise. The blundering Dilkins was not the man to be intrusted with a suspicion the mere breathing o’ which would undoubtedly cause a social Vesuvius that would envelone the fashionable world of New York. The major accompanied me back to my rooms, and I turned on tho light. I had comfortable quarters, even elegant. I was not a millionaire like Graviscourt, but my income was sufficient to enable me to occupy my present quarters, keep a team of horses, and dress in the prevailing fashion, leaving still a balance for travelling, books, or any expenditure for luxuries in which I might wish to indulge. I occupied two rooms—one a bed-room, and the other a large handsome room in which I had placed the most comfortable furniture I could get. And the room was made larger still by an alcove opening from it, in which there was a well filled bookcase, a huge lounge, and, in a good spot by the window, a desk. It was not my habit to keep a stock of cigars in my room, because I was seldom there when I wanted a smoke, and I found that the last cigars in a box that had dragged out its last days m my room were apt to be dry and cracked, and the flavour greatly injured. I rang for a night waiter and ordered some cigars of a brand that 1 knew the major liked, and also some wine. These comforts of a bachelor’s life having appeared, the major lighted a cigar, and ensconced himself comfortably in a large arm-chair, res ing his head on the high back and throwing one leg over the other, settled into a lazy position. ‘Now go on,’ he said. ‘Tell mewhat you have been doing, and where you have been hiding all day.’ • I have turned ghoul.* I Slid, half laughing and half earnestly. * I have become addicted to the very reprehensible habit of turning up graves.’ The major looked at me gravely for a moment, puffing energetically at his cigar, while I did the same at mine. • That is bad business,’ he said, after the pause. * In the first place, it is dangerous. You are liable to be caught and sent to prison, and another thing, you might contract disease.’ •Yes—smallpox, for instance,’ I said. *Ah ! 1 did think you were joking.’ said the major, ‘ but now I begin to see light. How many nights have yon spent in your new enterprise of body-snatching, and whom have you snatched ’’ • None,’ I replied. ‘ My ghoulish exploits are confined entirely to the hours of day.’ ‘You are reckless. Still, I must say I admire your courage. But you have only answered part of my question.’ • Oh, 1 haven’t snatched any body, really. 1 am in a sort of resurrection business.’

• Don’t you think you might better leave that to Gabriel ? Those things are managed better at headquarters, you know.’ • Pshaw ! You know well enough what I mean. 1 won’t beat about the bush any longer ; * and I thereupon told him all that I had done, leaving out no detail. While I was speaking, i he major looked at me gravely, and when I had finished, he merely b'ew his cigar smoke into the air and said nothing. *1 could not help it,' I said in apology. * That etory of yours about the lucky uncle, and the remarkable similarity in the face*, left an impression that I could not shake otf. Nor could I resist the impulse to investigate.* • Nor I.’ • You ! I jumped from my chair in ex citement. ‘ You !* ‘ Yes. When Graviscourt held that photograph in his hand, I detected evidences of agitation in his manner. The impression the whole thing gave me was very like yours—the impulse the same. This morning I rose early and visited Trinity Cemetery. In the afternoon I visited 301 Mott street, the Bureau of Vital Statistics.’ ‘And were disappointed—or—pleased —at finding just what I found,’ I said ; ‘ that everything was all right.’ ‘I saw just what you saw,’ said the major ; • and had it not been for a chance meeting, I would have reached the same conclusion that you have.’ My breath was coming hard from me now. ‘ Well ?’ I gapped. • When J left 301 Mott street. 1 saw Graviscourt’s carriage. Thinking it a strange coincidence that he should be in the vicinity, I followed it. It stopped before one of the most miserable places in the Italian quarter. In the lower portion of the building was a dirty-looking drug store. Over the door was the sign, “ L. Tortoni.” I saw Graviscourt gat out of the carriage and enter the drug store. I hurried past, hoping to get a look into the window. I was not disappointed. 1 saw the proprietor greet Graviscourt as an acquaintance, and they went into a back room. When I returned the carriage was still there, and a woman was in attendance in the store. The conference between Graviscourt and Tortoni was a long one.’ ‘ There is certainly something in the wind,’ I exclaimed. • There is—there is—l am certain of it. What do you think ? What do you advise?' • We must move cautiously. Even yet there may be some hideous mistake, and a false move would put us in an unpleasant position. But there w something. 1 have not told you the most important fact.* ‘ What is it?’ I asked. • If I am not mistaken—l may be, because dissipation changes faces—but if I am not mistaken, L. Tortoni is no other than Doctor Charles Sigmotta, Graviscourt’s old friend.’ ‘ Sigmotta !’ I exclaimed. ‘ The man who signed the death certificate of the Graviscourt child ?’ • The same.’ This news was so overwhelming that I sat silently smoking for several minutes. In fact, but little more was said by either of us. After a few minutes the major reached over, poured himself out some wine, drank it, and took his hat as if to go. I saw him to the door, and promising to meet him at the Lotus Club the following day, I returned to my room, where 1 threw myself down on the couch in the alcove, utterly lost in the bewildering sensations that the major’s story had aroused. CHAPTER 111. According to my promise, i met Major Simmons at the Lotus (Hub at four o’clock on the following afternoon. Dilkins was there, and stuck so close to us that we found no opportunity to speak on the subject which I now knew seemed as important to my elderly friend as it had to myself. We went to supper together, all three, and at my suggestion—in fact, upon my invitation—all agreed to spend the evening at Madison Square Garden. To Dilkins, of course, this was nothing else than the prospect of an evening's pleasure. To the major and me it was the promptings of the same irresistible impulse that had guided our movements since Dilkins had unearthed the photograph of Alice (Maviscourt. I wished to be present at the circus to see if Signorina Barlotti actually appeared ; and if she did. how she looked and acted. If she did not, I wanted to hear Maligni’s excuse for her non-appear-ance. Anything pertaining to Barlotti was eagerly sought, so that my suspicions

might either be absolutely diaproven or might lead to something tangible in the way of corioborative evidence.

Thun it was that at eight o’clock we were in our Heats at the circus, watching the incoming crowd, which seemed to me greater than usual. Dinkins wriggled ab ut in his seat, aimed hie opera glasses at all the pretty women he saw, and kept uttering exclamations over the beautiful toilets that pleased him most. The major eat down low in his seat, his chin almost hidden, his eyes directed straight before him, seemingly lost in reverie. I confess that I was more like Dilkins than I was like the major. I, too, was supplied with a glass, and scanned the increasing audience, if not with the same eagerness as Dilkins, at least with enough boldness. At last the programme was started, as usual, with the trained elephants. This drew the attention of Dilkins away from the women in the audience, and he became an enthusiastic admirer of the huge brutes in their well-timed drid and manoeuvres. As for me, I scarcely saw them at all, so impatient was I for the act to progress and bring Signorina Barlotti before us. And the major did not change his position, but sat in his intense mood, oblivious of the applause that greeted the elephants, and of the cheering and clapping of hands that marked the close of their act. And when Maubikeck came, he stiffened up a little, and attentively watched the lion-tamer. Whether this was because he wa« actively interested in the man himself or that his presence brought to the major thoughts of Barlotti, X did not know. I looked at Maubikeck with the same admiration that I had felt on the two previous occasions when 1 had seen him. The intervening acts passed, and Barlotti came. A hum was heard in the Garden, then it grew to a roar, then it became an uproar. The people were giving expression to their pleasure at the trapeze girl’s recovery. Nita bowed, and this time she smiled, but it was a sad smile, in which the lines of suffering could plainly be seen in her face. When she came on, I saw Maubikeck standing near the ropes of the trapeze, and as the girl passed him, I saw her glance up into his face with a look that spoke unutterable and undying love ; and with this love there was mingled gratitude. I glanced at the major's face. It wae set and stern, and hie keen eyes were bent on the beautiful actress. She stepped into the loop of rope and was drawn up to the trapeze. She sprang from the trapeze to the bars and back again. Then she hung head downward and swung to and fro on the flying trapeze. Suddenly there was a smell of smoke, and a streak of flame shot upward. The rope of the loop—the one that carried Barlotti aloft and brought her down again—was burning. It had evidently been saturated with oil, for it burned fiercely, and the flames licked upward as only the flame of burning oil can do. Cries of horror rose all over the Garden. • Barlotti is in danger !’ • The rope is burning !’ ‘ Heaven I Somebody save Barlotti.’ •No on can eave her. She is doomed !’ And Signorina Barlotti, when she saw the flames coming toward her, gasped and hung half fainting on the bar of her tra peze. In the excitement people left their seats and crowded into the ring. Women fainted, children screamed, and even men seemed beside themselves. I had left my seat, and had drawn nearer to the ground inside the trapeze. 1 raw there was still a rope that held this in its place, and down which the girl might slide with safety. I was about to call to her when I saw an attendant of the circus—evidently an Ita'ian—touch a match to thia rope, and the flame began its deadly work Apparently I was the only one who saw the act, and I sprang forward to seize the miscreant, but he disappeared like a snake in the crowd. At that moment I heard a deep voice near me calling : ‘Nita! Nita I Hold fast to your bar. I, Maubikeck, will save you.* Turning, I saw the lion tamer at the newly fired rope, and, regardless of burned hands, he was trying to extinguish the flames. I stepped to his side and he'ped him. Together we fought the devilish flame, my bunds being severely burned, until the lower part of the rope was free from tire. Above there was still fiame, and it was rapidly licking its way toward the trapeze. ‘ Hold tl.is rope liglit! shouted the lion tamer in my ear. Instinctively I seized it, and in another moment the major was with me. Together we pulled at the charred rope, while Maubikeck climbed upward, extinguishing the flames as ho progressed. ‘The rope will break, and he will fall,* I said to the major. •No. it will not,’ he replied. ‘lt ha, been oiled, and the oil is burning. The rope will not burn through until the oil

has been exhausted. But he must hurry—it won’t take long.* Inch by inch, foot by foot, the lion tamer fought hie way upward, until at last he had extinguished all the flame of the ascending rope. But the aides of the trapeze were burning, and over there Barlotti must climb to reach the rope the lion tamer had rendered safe. ‘ Heaven !’ some one in the audience cried. *He cannot reach her ! She must die !' Suddenly a pistol shot rang out, and a cry of horror swept over the panting, excited crowd. I looked upward, expecting to see either Maubikeck or Barlotti fall dead. CHAPTER IV. To my surprise, neither the lion tamer no r Nita exhitited any signs of having been shot. Above the roar of the crowd I heard his voice. ‘Nita!’ he cried. * Nita 1 Leapintomy arms. Do not hesitate. I can hold you.’ The girl obedient to his command and confident of his power, swung the burning trapeze outward, then inward, and releasing the bar, leaped squarely at Maubikeck through space. His outstretched hands seized her and held her safe. The impact swung the major and me several feet, but we retained our hold on the rope. Simultaneously with Nita’s courageous leap, a cry came from the crowd. • Maligni's shot!’ some one cried, and the cry was taken up and echoed all over the Garden. Tho uproar increased, and the centre of excitement moved away from us to that point where the wounded showman lay. We paid very little attention to Maligni’s part in the affair, at least I did. In a few minutes Maubikeck had descended with his half fainting burden, and hie bruised hands held her tenderly, while a flask of brandy that some person handed to the major was pressed to her lips. ‘Get her safely home,’ said the major. ‘Dick, you stay and help the lion tamer. I am going to see what hae happened to the Italian.’ So he left. I did not see Dilkins. He bad disappeared in the crowd, probably around Maligni. ‘ Can I be of any help?’ I asked Maubikeck. e • Who are you ?’ he asked, in reply. ‘ Wilberton, of the Lotus Club,’ I answered. • Come with us,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you may be able to he'p me solve this hellish mystery. This girl is surrounded by enemies, who are trying to kill her. The reason we do not know. Come witn us to her hotel. Maligni will not interfere tonight.’ • D d not some one cry that Maligni was shot ?’ asked the girl. ‘ Yes,’ I replied. ‘Some one has shot the Italian.’ ‘ Oh, Heaven !’ she cried, in intense excitement. • When and huw will it all end !’ Motioning for me to iollow, the liontamer led her away, and I followed at a respectful distance. He took her first to her dreasing-room, where he left her in charge of an attendant. Then he joined me. • When Nita is dressed,’ he said, ‘ we will go to her hotel. lam not accustomed to New York. You may be able to help us find her enemies. Keeping the knowledge of what I had seen—the Italian firing the rope—for future divuigence. I stood with Maubikeck, awaiting tho appearance of the trapeze queen. At last she came. Although I had been fascinated by her beauty as seen in the circus, I was not prepared for the vision of loveliness that came, pale but smiling, from the dressing-room and gave her hand to Maubikeck to be led away.

Beautiful as the trapeze queen had seemed in her brilliant waist and tights, as she appeared in her trapeze performance, she was doub'v beautiful now, clad modestly and becoming'y for the street. There had been before a sort of goddeeslike sacredness about her in her abbreviated garments which made her seem like a beautiful being apart from us ; but clad in the conventional form, she was a woman with all the grace and attractions of the most beautiful of her sex when clothed with lavish richness combined with excellent taste.

In her circus glitterings she had not seemed so tall, but now 1 saw that she was of good stature, and her bearing was queenly. Yet, with it all there was a look of settled sadness on her face, the same that w.- had noticed before. And that sadness, instead of being bidden by the smile of gratitude we received when she came out and found us waiting, seemed augmented by the excitement and danger through which **ho had just passed. As Nitn osmo from her dressing room she was accompanied by an ugly Italian woman, who acted probably in the capacity of maid and attendant, but more particu-

larly, I learned later, as n sort ot keeper or watchdog for Maligni. Upon thia woman's face there was a look of angry protest, as if she had held forth against the departure of Nita with Maubikeck and myself. But the girl came forward and was met by the lion-tamer, who placed her hand on hie arm and led her through a private hall and exit to the street. I had hesitated about accompanying them, but Maubikeck had repeated hie request that 1 should assist him, if possible, to unravel the mystery of the murderous animosity with which the girl was surrounded. When Maubikeck epoke Nita turned toward me, and said : * You are the gentleman who assisted in saving my life. I thank you, sir, for the great kindness. Surely, I am in some person’s way, and unless the secret is discvered I shall, no doubt, be murdered. If you can help me, you will win my gratitude.’ Thus prettily asked I walked beside them, and the old woman came ambling after, muttering to herself things I could not understand, but in which I frequently heard the name Maligni. Now, there was more than one reason why it seemed perfectly proper for me to accompany Nita and Maubikeck, and lend what assistance I could in this time of need. To begin with. I was much interested in the girl herself—personally—because of her grand beauty, and the romantic interest always attached to a beautiful girl in her position. Now that she was in danger chivalry seemed to direct me to her assistance. I did not feel that this was at all a matter in which I was romantically concerned, for I loved Edith Broughton, and no amount of glamour or other foil could dull that love. Secondly, I was interested in Nita Barlotti, as has been shown heretofore, because she closely resembled the photograph of Charles Graviscourt’s wife, and because in that resemblance there had seemed to be some shadowy hint that Graviscourt was not all that he seemed to be before the world. And in striking at Graviscourt, I was striking a blow for my own love, and this is a motive that will always stir the heart of a man whose love is withheld from j him by another’s will. ■' Thirdly, I was interested in the lion ■ tamer. He impressed me as being noM

ordinary individual—very different from the average circus attache, as was Barlotti herself ; and in the evidences of love that I had seen pass between these two, I had seemed to see a reflection of my own, and this claimed my interest if nothing eke. Fourthly, I had seen the act of the man who had set fire to the trapeze rope, and was, no doubt, the only human being eave himself, who had seen it. It became me, therefore, to aid Maubikeck and Nita by using the knowledge I possessed, and by identifying the miscreant who had fired the rope, ascertain through him his motive, or, if he had been employed to do the thing, the name of hie cowardly employer. One of the facts that I learned by this ad venture was that the stare of a circus lived, when away from the glare and the tinsel of their profession, much like other people with plenty of money to spend. Leaving the Gardena by means of one of the private entrances, Maubikeck hailed a carriage. It was a good one, and was drawn by a team of well-fed, sleek-looking horses, and 1 thought it was probably the one he used every night for his own conveyance, and we all got into it. Maubikeck and Nita sat together, and the old hag sat with me, with our backs toward the driver. She was not a pleasant carriage companion, and I would gladly have changed places with Maubikeck. The old woman swayed back and forth, moaned, wrung her hands, and spoke fiercely to Maubikeck, who told her with unmistakable emphasis to hold her tongue. * I will explain this woman’s vehcir>ence, Signor Wilberton,’ said the lion tamer. * Eacho Maligni is a hard master and a jealous man. He allows no one but himself and those hired for the purpose to come near Nita Barlotti. Believe me, this is the first time since we opened in Madison Square Garden that I have accompanied the signorina to her hotel. Maligni keeps her constantly under his care, and this woman is employed by him to prevent others — especially myself — from coming into the presence of the signorina. That we are enabled to be with her now is due solely to the mishap which has befallen Maligni. He I may be dead at this moment or seriously wounded. That he in wounded is certain, or he would have been on hand as usual to tak Nita to the hotel.’ * And where doos Maligni live ?’ I asked.

* At the same hotel.’ Maubikeck, when we had started from the Garden, had direc ed the driver to a certain well-known hotel, much frequented by show people, and I knew where we were being taken. * But what is thia Maligni’a hold on the signorina?’ I asked. * Where does he get his authority over her ?’ Nita shuddered and crouched closer to the stalwart frame of Maubikeck. ‘He is my master by my father’s will,’ she said in a voice that was touching in its plaintive sweetness. * And your father was a performer like yourself, was he not, signorina ?’ I said. ‘Yes— I will tell you about hie death when we reach my rooms.’ This interruption of her reply was caused by the rattling ot the carriage up to the curb, the sudden stopping of it, and the opening of the carriage door by the coachman. We all stepped out, Maubikeck assisting Nita, and I following them, leaving the old Italian woman to clamber down as best she could. Maubikeck turned to the coachman and said : * Wait for me.’ We entered the hotel by a private door, and ascended two flights of stairs. Then traversing for some distance a wide and well lighted hall, we paused before a door. Then Nita uttered a startled little exclamation. * The key 1* she gasped. * Maiigni has the key !’ Here was a dilemma. Maubikeck was a stranger at the hotel, having taken up his residence at another, some distance away. Here a happy thought came to me. I was the one to help them out. Taking the number of the room, which was 112, I went down to the office, and found on duty there a clerk who knew me. ‘How do you do, Mr W’ilberton?’ said this clerk, sauvely. * I am as usual, Mervice,’ I replied, ‘ and have come for a little assistance. Perhaps you have not heard of the unfortunate mishap that has befallen one of your guests ?’ ‘No. What is it?’ he asked, with the expression of a man on guard against any accident that might reflect on the hotel management. * Maiigni, the circus man, has just been

■hot at the Garden. I «a.« fortunate enough to be of eotne assistance to his charge Signorina Barlotti, who has room 112, and with a friend of hers brought her here. She recollects now that Maligni has the key to her room. I want a duplicate, if you have one, so that the signorina can get in. She needs rest, and it may be seme time before they bring Maligni here.* Mervice shrugged his shoulders, turned to a drawer in his desk, and handed me therefrom a key to number 11*2. *lf the fellow who shot Maligni only killed him,' ho said, ‘I don’t think the world will owe him a grudge.’ Without replying to hie evident dislike of Maligni I hurried back with the key and soon had the door opened. Ono thing was certain : No matter how severe, harsh or tyrannical Maligni might be, he certainly was not niggardly in regard to Nita’s comfort. Number 112 was but the first of a suite of four rooms, one of which was a parlour, one a cozy little dress-ing-room, and the other two, bedrooms, ono for Nita and one for the old hag who served her. A door opened from the dressingroom and one of the bedrooms, and I know from the general plan of the hotel, with which I was familiar, that the suite included a private bath. ‘Maligni lives there,’ said Nita, pointing to number 111, across the hall. Maubikeck and I sat down in Nita’s parlor and she and her leathery-skinned • maid ’ disappeared. In a few minutes, however, she reappeared, this time clad in some soft, clinging stuff that set off her figure to perfection. It seemed as if every change she made made her more beautiful. She stepped rather wearily, I thought, and sank into a chair between Maubikeck and me, resting her head in her hands, as if she felt pain in her temples. I had taken my card from my card case and handed it to her. * Signorina,’ 1 said, * I have become interested in the mystery that seems to surround you and beg you will allow me to assist you and Maubikeck In your efforts to unravel it. That will tell you who I am.’ * Well, Signor Wilberton,’ she said, twirling the card in her hand, * 1 sincerly thank you. lam greatly unnerved by what has occurred, and cannot understand it. I cannot understand it. I cannot assist you or Maubikeck in any way that I can think

of, yet I am willing to do anything that Maubikeck suggest-*, or answer any questions that you may ask me. My life is in danger, and alono 1 am unable to combat my unknown enemy.’ • You must be told, Signor Wilberton,’ said Maubikeck, * that thia is not the first attempt that has been made on Signorina Barlotti'e life. Only last night some miscreant cut one of the ropes of the trapeze nearly through, eo that the weight of the signorina would break it and precipitate her to certain death. The severed rope was discovered by one of my own attendants, and he rushed to me with the news, knowing that I had the signorina’s welfare at heart. I secretly sent word to her, explaining the circumstance, and, as it was too late to replace the rope with » new one, I advised Nita to p'ead illness and not go on. This she did, and Maligni made her excuses to the audience.’ • I know,' I replied. * I was there. And did Maligni know what the trouble really waft ?’ ‘Not at first,’ replied Nita. ‘But he stormed and cursed so when it seemed merely my own illness that prevented my appearing as usual, that I was obliged to tell him. Then, of course, he saw how impossible it was for me to act.’ ‘Then it seems that Maligni, at least, is not a party to the attempt on your life,’ I said. The girl blushed, and shot a look full of meaning at Maubikeck. • He would not kill the signorina,’ said Maubikeck. * He claims to love her, and when he has made enough money in the show business he intends to marry the signorina and return to Italy to live.’ • Ah !’ I said. • And I take it, from what I see, that Signorina Nita objects to that domestic arrangement.’ •She loves me.’ said Maubikeck, simply, ‘and 1 love her.’ This was so exactly a repetition of my own case that my heart went out to these two mysterious people, and I plunged at once into the subject that had brought us there. ‘Now, see here,’ I said, assuming the authority of a detective, ‘I saw something to night which will be of material interest and aid to us in this matter, but to get at it right, I must know all about your life ; that is, that part of it that pertains to your father and his death—your education—your mother— Well, tell me all you know, and let us see where we stand.’ My interest in the case greatly pleased both the signorinaan i Maubikeck. • Yes,’ said the lion tamer. ‘ That is the first stop. Tell Signor Wilberton about yourself, that he may understand the circumstances in which you are now placed, and the harsh tyranny under which you live.’ Nita pissed her hand over her brow, and, after a moment spent in thought, began : ‘ I remember little about my mother,’ she said, speaking dreamily and slowly, as if trying to recall the past. ‘ She was, as 1 can see her now, an ordinary woman —of course, an Italian. She died when 1 was, perhaps, seven years of age. I can recollect little of our home life, except that we seemed to bo unsettled, moving about from one place to another—probably the same as the family of anv other circus peformer would do. My father was very kind—more so, I think, than my mother. I dimly recall now that they frequently quarrelled, but, of course, I do not know now, and probably did not even at that time understand what the causes of their dissensions were. When my mother died my father took me to Madame De Long's school, and placed me there as a regular boarding scholar. Madame De Long’s school is in Albany. During the time I was at Albany I saw but little of my father. He came seldom to see me, and told me not to tell any of the scholars that he was a circus

performer. In later years, whon his fame became so great, of course they all knew it, and being the daughter of Barlotti, the famous trapeze king, was not considered the disgrace that it would have been had he remained in obscurity. My life at Madame De Long's was very pleasant. I took considerable interest in my lessons, and advanced rapidly. True, 1 was not there long enough to acquire a very brilliant education, but what I did learn formed a foundation, to which I have endeavoured to add since by constant reading and study in the hours of leisure allowed me. When I was fo rteen, I was suddenly called from Madame De Long's to a hotel in Utica. I remember it wall. It stood near the railroad, and I believe they called it Baggs Hotel. Barnum was in Utica on that day, and, as you know, my father was Barnum’s principal trapeze performer. Now. let me explain one point in the relations of my father to Barnum, and you w ill then understand my own position better. My father whs not hired directly by Barnum himself. He was under a long contract to Maligni—the same Pacho Maligni who was shot to night. Maligni in turn contracted with Barnum for my father’s continued appearance in his circus, and, of the two, Maligni pocketed the most money. ‘ On this day, my father had grown dizzy and had fallen from his trapeze, and had sustained injuries which the surgeon in attendance said must cause his death. Thus it was that I was sent for, and was placed on the train at Albany, in charge of the conductor. who, when we arrived at Utica, took me to the ho el, only a few steps away, and I was taken at once to my father’s room. I reached there just one hour before he died. Maligni was with him when I arrived, and my father signified a desire for us to approach together. I had seen Maligni nnly once before, and was instinctively afraid of him. But my tears were nothing as compared to the terror I have felt since. My father spoke to Maligni in a tongue I did not understand. I spoke and understood pure Italian, but the language used at my father’s bedside was a harsher one—yet the same. 1 have heard the same language since, but cannot recall enough of what was said at that time to translate or to understand. But I saw Maligni’s eyes open in astonishment, and he seemed to be more afiected by what my father was saying than he was over the prospect of his death. Then my father put my hand in Maligni’s and told me in our own language that he was going to die, and that henceforth 1 was Maligni’s. Maligni would take his place and would take care of me. I remember that I sobbed a great deal and kissed my father, and that a surgeon came and other men, and then my father died. Maligni attended to everything, and had my father’s body taken to Italy for burial. He took me there also. 1 never went hack to Mdme. De Long’s. We came from Utica right to New York, and sailed for Italy one or two days after. And, what a wretched miserable life I have led ever since ! Maligni informed me that under the terms of the contract by which he took me, I was to fill the place of my father, and become an actress on the trapeze. Oh, the shame of it nearly killed me. 1 wept and pleaded with him. but all to no purpose. He was not to be moved by my tears or my prayers, and in the at which we lived he had one room fitted up as a training-room. Here I was compelled to go through the severest kind of physical training to perfect myself for the trapeze. At first I refused to wear the tights, and was severely flogged. Maligni is a cruel man, and would kill rather than be thwarted. Well, you do not need to- be to'd the details of my hard life. Suffice to say that after nearly four years of severe training. I am before the public in a role that I hate and despise. But what can I do? Maligni is my

absolute master. If I ran away from him. he would capture me and bring me back to my degrading life. '.V hat can Ido * And now some one wants to murder me. I cannot imagine why. I have not, so far as 1 know, an enemy in this world, unless it be Maligni himself, and I know what his pinna are too well to think he is the one.’ Nita paused here, as if she was weary. I had taken a small note-book from my pocket, and was jotting down, as well as I cou’d with burned fingers that were beginning to give me great pain, all the important pointe of her story. Still, there was nothing in it that shed the slightest ray of light on the mystery in hand. ‘Now, signorina,* I said, * we have got down to the present day—let me ask you a question : Your trapeze is always in the care of the same person, is it not ?’ ‘Not one, but two,’she replied. ‘The two attendants are called Sancho and Dambo. They were not brought from Italy, but were employed here by Maligni.’ * Describe Sancho,’ I said. *He is a thin man. with black, piercing eyes, and long, black hair. He usually wears a velvet coat." ‘And Dambo?’ I continued. * Dambo is much stouter, and has curly hair. His eyes are small like a snake’s and gleam and glitter all the time. Hie hair is not long, but hie moustache is very long and has straight waxed ends.’ ‘Ha!’ I said. * Dambo is the man we want. He is the fellow who set fire to the ropes.’ ‘Dambo!’ exclaimed Maubikeck. ‘Dambo! also exclaimed Nita. * I have scarcely spoken to Dambo. He could have no reason to hate me and try to kill me.’ ‘But if he is a snake he could be hired by some one who has,’ I replied- * Dambo ! she murmured. * I can hardly believe it. Did you see him do it, Signor VVilberton ? * I saw him fire the second rope, after which he disappeared in the crowd and I could not catch him. We will see to Mr Dambo later. Where did you live in Italy, Signorina?’ *ln several places,’ she replied. ‘ Maligni spent some time in Naples, Rome, and Genoa, but most of the time we spent in Sardinia. I did not know much about my surroundings, not being allowed to go out much. But I know that we left Genoa in a steamer, and landed at Cagliari. The house we lived in was a large one, and stood in a beautiful country place near Cagliari. It was the property of Maligni’s brother, who seemed to be a man of great importance in Cagliari.’ •Cagliari is the southern port of Sardinia, ’ said Maubikeck. ‘There is also a province of the same name.* * You made no enemies there!’ I asked. ‘None,’ replied the girl. • I made neither enemies nor friends. Maligni kept me close.’ *1 think that our researches must be confined to this city,* I said. * There seems to be no reason to believe you have enemies from Sardinia. Your enemies are here, and I think we can find them.’ I fancied I saw a look of relief on the face of Maubikeck. It was as if he was gratified at my having dropped Sardinia. But I was so interested in the girl’s story that I paid no attention to this. ‘Signorina,’ I said. ‘ now think hard for a few minutes. lam going to ask you a strange question.’ She looked at me with a patient smile on her weary countenance. * You may ask it,’ she said. * Has anything that you can recall in your life—ai.y incident, any word, any look, any act, seemed to indicate that you were not Barlotti's daughter? ‘ Signor W'ilberton ?' she gasped. • Maubikeck ?' The cry was like that of a frightened child, and Maubikeck drew nearer to

her, and placed one of hie giant arme around her. ‘Yon understand, I continued, ‘that I don’t suggest thia aa being true, but simply ask the question. You have'none of the characteristic features ot the Italian race. I should judge you to be either English or American. Now. can yen think of any incident at the bedside of your father— ’ ‘Stay! she cried. * Let me think. Oh this terrible thought has never come to me before. Not Barlotti’s daughter? Not Italian ! Then who am 1?’ * Now be calm, signorina,’ I said. ‘Just think of the past. What I am trying to get at is, has any incident ever occurred that would lead you to think that any unknown person felt or should feel an interest in you ?’ * Oh, wait !’ she cried. *At my father’s bedside — no. I was so confused and frightened and sorrowful that I scarcely saw. No, there could be nothing. Mv father gave me to Maligni, and the box—' * Box !’ I said, interrupting her. * You said nothing about a box before.’ *lt was a red tin box,’ she said, * locked with a little brass padlock. My father gave it to Maligni, and said something in the tongue I have since learned was Sardinian. 1 asked Maligni once what the box contained, and he said it contained the contract between him and my father.’ * A contract I’ I said. • Would your father carry a c< ntract in a tin box locked with a padlock ?’ *He might. I never knew much about my father's habits.’ ‘How large a box was it ?’ I asked. ‘About so long and so wide,’ she answered, indicating with her hands a toot in length and three or four inches in width. * I would give much to gain possession of that box,’ I sai<l. •Do you know where Maligni keeps it ?’ ‘No. I have never seen it since the day my father died.’ ‘No doubt it contained more than the contract,’ I said. ‘And we must obtain possession of it without Maligni’s suspecting that we want it. The box without its contents would be valueless, and if he suspected us, he would remove the contents and leave us the box.’ * But Maligni may be dead,’ said Nita, almost hopefully. ‘ Yes, he may,’ I answered. •If he is, then it will be easy to get the box.’ Just then there was a great ttamping of feet in the hall, which stopped at the door opposite. They were, I thought, bringing Maligni home. I opened the door of Nita’s room and peeped out. There were three men there—Maligni, with his face all hid den in bandages, my old friend, Doctor Dins more, and Major Simmons. Maligni was walking alone, and did not seem to bo greatly distressed by his wound. The doc tor and the major went inside with him, bur. remained only a few minutes. When I heard them come out, I said : •Signorina, you have already had too much excitement to-night, and you need rest. I see that the physician who attended Maligni is a friend of mine. Maligni is not seriously wounded. We have, I think, got all the facte that you can give us in relation to your peculiar case. The first thing to be done is to find Dambo, which 1 shall set about as soon as I have my burned hands attended to.’ ‘ Oh, you are too generous and kind,’ she said. ‘You are suffering on my account. It is too bad.’ ‘lt is nothing to Maubikeck’e,' I said. ‘Look at hie hands.’ She looked at the burned and blistered hands of the lion tamer, and the sight was just what was needed to finish the work of the exciting night. ‘ Maubikeck, my love ! My love !’ she cried, and throwing her arms around him, she wept over him and kissed him. And the lion-tamer smiled and kissed her, when I knew that his hands were burned ten times more than mine, and if the pain was ten times greater, it was awful torture. Yet he loved her so that he forgot his pain, and returned her kiss and smiled as if his hands were not torturing him. Nita fondled his leonine head a few minutes, and grew more excited. ‘ Come,' I said, • this will not do. Signorina, you must have rest. We will come to you to-morrow. Now we will see the doctor and have our burns dressed. Come, Maubikeck.’ He followed me out, and I hurried after my friends. I caught them at the door of the hotel. CHAPTER V. •All, Wilborton I’ exclaimed Major Simmons, when I hailed him and Doctor Dinsmore. ‘I have been looking for you. Our evening had plenty of excitement, eh ? Barlotti’s life attempted and also Maligni’s ! How is the girl ?’ * Nita is all right,’ I replied. • How is Maligni ?’ ‘Maligni is more frightened than hurt,' said Doctor Dinsmore. • The bullet was evidently intended for hie brain, but missed mark. It pricked hie cheek—made a

ragged little wound that is not serious—in tact of no consequence. But he did kick up a tremendous row. Of all the wild Italians I oversaw, he was the wildest. He cursed and raved, and threatened to annihilate the fellow who fired that shot, and I was compelled sternly to order him to be quiet before I could dress his cheek. He will be well in a few days ’ Here I presented the lion tamer to my two friends. * You are not through your work for tonight, doctor,’l said. * Maubikeck's hands are badly burned, and mine in less degree. They must be attended to.* Doctor Dinsmore looked at Maubikeck’s hands. * Burned I I should say they were burned. You must come at once to my office. But I tell you, lion Lamer, that was a courageous thing you did, to climb that rope and put out the flame of burning nil with your hands. It was the work of a hero.’ Maubikeck shrugged bis shoulders. * I am not a hero,’ he said. * When the only human being that a man loves is in danger, nothing is too great for him to attempt in her behalf.’ The doctor and the major nodded affirmatively. There was evidently no bashfulness about Maubikeck. He was willing that all the world should know that he loved Nita Barlotti. * We got into the carriage that Maubikeck had used to bring us to the hotel, and Doctor Dinsmore, at Maubikeck’s request, gave the coachman the address of his office We were soon there. Maubikeck, being more severely burned than I, was, of course, first taken care of by the phyeicans. While they were busy I -at down near the major. * Well,’ he said, in a low voice that Maubikeck could not hear, ’ what do you think, of it all, anyway ?’ * I am more than ever convinced that our original suspicions were correct,’ I replied. * I questioned the girl closely, and she told me the whole story of her life. She was given to this fellow Maligni by Barlotti, who she believes is her father. There is nothing in her story that sheds any light whatever on the affair. But there certainly is someone bent on her destruction, and itis not Maligni. It is impossible even to say if Maligni’s enemy is here. Everything is clouded in complete mystery. But there are two things to work on. One is a good clue, or at least a step, and may lead to the correct solution of the mystery. I saw an Italian set fire to the second rope.’ * Did you indeed !’ repeated the major in surprise. * Yes, and from the description the girl gave of her attendants, I identify the miscreant as a man they call Dambo. Of course, the first thing to be done is to find him. In the excitement he got away, but he cannot get out of New York. Anyhow, Byrnes can find him.’ ‘And what is the other clue? You spoke of two.’ ‘The other is not a clue. It may prove to be nothing at all, but putting our smspicions along with what the girl tells me, I hope to make a seizure and a discovery. It appears that just before Barlotti died, he gave the girl to Maligni, and also gave him a red tin box which was locked with a braes padlock. At the same time he spoke to Maligni in the Sardinian dialect, which Nita did not understand, and Maligni was apparently very much excited and surprised at what he said. Later, Nita asked Maligni what was in the box, and he told her it contained the contract under which her father had worked. ‘ With Barnum ?’ ‘No, with Maligni.’ Then I explained the system under which the trapeze acrobat had worked, and repeated Nita’s story for the major’s benefit. * 1 agree with you,’ he said, • that the contents of that red box are important. But bow to get it ?’ Our conversation was interrupted at this point by Dinsmore, who, having carefully 'lressed Maubeck's hands, announced himself ready for me. It did not take so long to attend to my burns, for the pain having been allayed by some soothing application, the injury seemed very slight. I was soon ready to go. Maubikeck with both hands bandaged, ba e us good-night, and promised to assist me in the morning to find Dambo. He stepped into his carriage and was driven away to his hotel. The major and I walked to my hotel, where he left me. It was two o’olock in the morning when I reached my room. 1 was greatly excited over the events of the evening, and seemed to have the means of total annihila’ion of Ralph Graviecourt almost within my grasp. To steady my nerves before going to bed 1 drank a glass of wine, and sat down to meditate on the prospects of success. Weariness soon overcame me, and I retired to dream of fighting fire and lions and Ralph Graviscourt all at once, and of Edith and Nita and of the lion-tamer, all jumbled together in inexplicable mysteries which I alone must solve. My rest during the first lew hours was broken by these fantastic

visions, but toward morning nature asserted it Helf and I slept soundly. It seecned to me that 1 bad scarcely slept at all when I was startled from my slumber by a terrific banging at my door. I sat up in bed, and in a half-dazed manner looked around me. It was broad daylight, and the sun was streaming io my windows. Again the knocking at my doer. * Who is there?’ I shouted. *ltis I— Maubikeck !’ was the reply ; and the voice in which it was uttered was so full of excitement that, unmindful of my scant attire, I sprang to the door to admit my visitor. At the sight of the lion tamer I fell back, alarmed and startled. His eyes were blood• shot and from them seemed to come a lightning gleam that boded ill to some one. His face was working with passion, and with a stride he was in my room. * They've gone !’ he roared. * Gone !’ ■ Gone ?’ I echoed. • Who’s gnne ?’ * Signorina Barlotti. Maligni, the old woman, Darnbo, and alt the rest,’, he said, panting with excitement. ’Barlotti gone! Maligni gone! Gone where V I asked, nearly as excited as he was. * Fled ! Nobody knows where. I went to their hotel a while ago. and the clerk told me that Maligni and his people—that meant Nita and the hag—left before daylight, and left no information as to where they were going. I did not believe him, and rushed up the stairs and pounded on Nita's door, but got no answer. Then I went to the house where Dambo was staying, and he had gone. Sancho is still here, but he knows nothing about the rest. They've gone—they’ve gone. That devil Maligni has taken her away—Act—my love—my Nita !’ As he ejaculated these words, the lion tamer strode back and forth in my room ; and even though the surprise and shock of Maligni’s sudden departure were overpowering, yet4_had p thgught for.this giant —this trainer' of wild beasts—who, with bloodshot eyes and passion distorted face, and his poor burned hands still clothed in bandages, had been thus deprived of hie sweetheart, and whose fears for her welfare nearly drove him frantic. There was a pathos it? his grief and rage that touched me even more than my own disappointment did. * But,’ I said, reassuringly, * they cannot escape us. We will go to Byrnes, Superintendent of Police, and he will catch them for us. Maligni cannot leave New York without being detected,’ * Maligni can 1’ replied Maubikeck. ‘Maligni could wriggle out of hell, and Satan himself could not prevent him.’ I hastily dressed, and as the suddenness of the surprise wore ofl, I began to feel a horrible fear that Maubikeck was right, and that Maligni might outwit us, with the start he had had. But I resolved to do my best to thwart him. and to that end my first visit should be to the superintendent of police. Maubikeck and I madeour way as quickly as possible to police headquarters and told our story. Superintendent Byrnes was at once interested, and sent out orders to hie •uen to make a thorough search for the party, particularly Dambo, through whom, if caught, we might reasonably expect to bag the principals in the affair, as well as Maligni and his charge. Leaving the superintendent, a sudden thought rushed upon me a recollection of what the major had told me about the druggist Tortoni. I hastily told something of this to Maubikeck, and knowing about where the store was located, we hurried there. We found it easily, and rushed in. A woman stood behind the counter. •I want to see the druggist, Tortoni, at once,’ I said, imperatively. * He is gone away,' she said in broken English. *He is gone to Europe.’ * When did he go?' I asked in amazement. * Yesterday he sailed,’ was the reply. Believing this to bo a lie, I turned to Maubikeck and said : *lt is thicker than we supposed. There are many engaged in the affair.’ He muttered something and seemed to be beside himself. From Tortoni's drug store we went to the hotel where Maligni and Nita had been stopping. Theie they told me just what they had told Maubikeck. * Have you any objections to opening the rooms ?’ I asked. The clerk smiled. * No,’ he replied. • Here is the key to 111, and this is to 112. You may go up if you want to.* We mounted the stairs. lopenod 111— Maligni’s. We found nothing there that belonged to him. We entered number 11*2. It was bare of everything save the hotel furnilure. Just as we were leaving, I happened to see a bit of folded paper on the floor I picked it up. Reading it, I handed it to Maubikeck. As he read it, his face grew paler and he uttered a fierce curse under hie breath. This is what was written on the paper in a pretty, feminine hand :

• Maubikeck ! Maubikeck ! He is taking me away—l do not know where. He is in a frightful temper. I must obey or he will kill me. Follow us ; find us, and rescue me from Maligni. I love you, Maubikeck, and only you. Nita.’ CHAPTER VI. It would be a useless waste of energy and a needless tax on patience for me to relate in detail the manner in which we passed the days immediately following the disappearance of Maligni and Nita Barlotti. We hunted everywhere, and aided as we were by the best detective skill to be had, it did seem as if we must find them sooner or later. But the skill of the pursued was greater than that of the pursuers. Maligni, Nita, Dambo and Tortoni were gone — evaporated—vanished—as completely as though they had never existed in New York at all. We communicated freely and constantly with other cities, and did everything that could be done to prevent their departure from the United States without detection. During the first few days Maubikeck and I, of course, spent considerable of our time at the office of Doctor Dinsmore. Under his care our burns healed rapidly, and at the end of a week my hands were in as good condition as ever. Maubikeck’a, from the severity of the burns, healed more slowly, but in a week they were out of the bandages and he had full use of them. They were somewhat blistered, but Dinsmore promised that another week would effect a perfect cure. The departure of the druggist Tortoni, of course, interested, only the major and me. We did not possess enough knowledge of his connection with the case, and were not certain enough of bis identity as Doctor C. Sigmotta, to drag the police into i>is part of the hunt. Neither did they care about Dambo. But Maligni had fled, leaving untold bills unpaid and contracts unfulfilled. Among those who suffered most were those who had been in his employ and whose salaries bad not been paid. And of these Maubikeck lost the most, for the cost of keeping and feeding his lions was enormous, and had so far been paid by himself, he not having received any pay since the circus had opened in the Garden. Of course, this made a clamour, and the papers were full of it. Public interest died out in a few days, and the police, seeing nothing but failure, grew listless in a week. Of course, that portion of the affair in which I was most interested—the suspected identity of Nita Barlotti—had not been made public. There was nothing on which a statement could be based, ami the major and I counselled with ourselves and decided to lock the matter in our own breasts until we had something tangible to work on. And I was firmly convinced that the something tangible had been contained in the red box that Maligni had received from the dying acrobat, the contents of which he had told Nita were merely a ‘contract.’ I plunged into the search so heartily that everything else was forgotten save my love for Elith Broughton. In fact, it was my seemingly hopeless love that spurred me on, in the forlorn hope of making a discovery that would undo my rival. I went to Boston, Philadelphia and Chicago on supposed clues, but discovered nothing. During this protracted search, with its hopes, disappointmentsand tailute, a peculiar change took place in the lion tamer and myself. When the flight of Maligni was first known, Maubikeck had been like a wild man. His rage, hie impetuous ferocity, his uncurbed lion-like nature, made it difficult to keep him within bounds. He grew dishevelled and haggard. He muttered much to himself, like a man demented. His burned fingers twitched nervously, as if they were grasping somebody’s throat. On the contrary, I had been calm and collected 1 had done most of the planning and scheming. I had led the hunt. Now, as time had passed, and we had nothing but a seriesof di-heartening failures to look back upon, I was becoming nervous and impatient. I grew irritable. 1 plunged into foolish spurts after impossible clues that that in the early days of the hunt I would not have considered worthy of my attention. Sharply contrasted with this change in me, this evidence of the strain that had been put upon my nervous system, was the magnificent calmness that had come to Maubikeck, He had settled into a calm man of iron. His eyes were keen and piercing, hie mouth firmly set, his brow smooth. Carefully and slowly he went, step by step, over the case, and drew for himself a mental map of Maligni’s operations, plans and desires, and seeme I to bo tracing his imaginary footsteps up to the present lime. This was the condition of things two weeks after Maligni had disappeared, and I, nervous and fretful, eat one afternoon in the office of the Board of Park Commie eioners, of which tho major was now pre-

sident, pouring out to him my bitterness of spirit over the failure to trace Maligni. While I wae there, a heavy footstep was heard outaide, and we both looked up knowingly. It was a footstep that had grown familiar to us, so firmly and squarely did it strike. The door opened and the lion tamer entered. It was at once evident from the expres sion of hie face that he had learned something. ‘Well, lion tamer,’said the major, who had developed a great liking for this mysterious man with the peculiar name, • what- is new to-day ?’ ‘The hunt is ended, so far as this continent is concerned,’ was the reply of Maubikeck, as he quietly sat down near us. * Ended !’ I exclaimed, excitedly. ■ Have yon found them ’’ ‘No. But I have traced them,’he said, with a grim sort of satisfaction in his tones. * Maligni and Nita are on b >ard the steam ship La Gascogne, which sailed from this port three days ago. Of course, they are tn route to Italy, or, more particularly speaking, to the Island of Sardinia, where Maligni intends to make Nita his wife.’ ‘ But this sudden determination,’ I said ; ‘it is puzzling. What of his circus ’ Ho had no money, had he, except what was invested in his show?’ * Money wae what he was after,’ replied Maubikeck, looking at me with a far away expression in his eyes. I knew that, though his gaze was directed toward me. he did not see me. His mind was bent on the problem before us. * There is no doubt a great deal in this adairof which we know absolutely nothing.' said the major. ‘The motive for the attempt on Maligni’s life is the darkest Kind of secret. Yer, occurring at the eame titre as the attempt to kill the girl, it would seem to bear close connection with ir. Certainly Maligni has some strong reason for leaving this country. He has been forced by fear to drop hie money-making circus and fly for his life, or it some way he has become possessed of enough money to satisfy him, and he has gone home to enjoy it. But that part of it is not so important. Tell us how you learned this. Maubi keck.’ ‘ I have just left police headquarters,’ replied the lion-tamer. “The superintendent was about to send for you and me when 1 arrived there. The police exp'ain their failure to find Maligni while he was in New York, by saying that he was aided by his fellow countrymen here to outwit all pursuers Even when he sailed he did so under the name of Luigi Bariloti.’ I gave a start. ‘ That is dangerously near to Barlotti,’ 1 said. •Yes. The name was well chosen. The record of passengers, so the superintendent says, shows the names Luigi Bariloti and his daughter, Signorina Bariloti, and Mariana, the attendant of the signorina. From various descriptions gathered by the police of these people from the company, they concluded at once that they were the

person* sought. And lam inclined to agree with them/ • Yes,’ I replied. 4 There is little doubt that Maligni and Bariloti are the same.’ ‘There is little doubt of it if the police say so,’ eaid the major. 4 Did Byrnes tell you that he had taken anv steps toward learning the real identity of Luigi Barilo! i ?’ •He did. He claims that it has been proven that no Luigi Bariloti existed in New York until this one bought tickets for passage. He further states that Mis Luigi Bariloti who appeared so suddenly had plenty of money. The habits of Italians in New York are not such that one with plenty of money to spend would remain long in obscurity.’ ‘ True enough,’ I said. 4 The search is ended. Now the chase begins. Of course you will follow them.’ Maubikeck bent upon me a peculiar, inscrutable look—a look that seemed to combine hatred, passion and secret purpose, but which, after all, left the face blank and unreadable. Maubikeck’s face was of the kind that, under control of the will, was like carved marble. But in bis eyes there lurked fires unquenchable, and fires were burning now for Nita Barlotti. •Mr VVilberton,’ he said, extending his right arm, 4 as long as there is one drop of blood flowing through my veins, it flows tor Nita Barlotti. There is an arm that has before been raised in her behalf, and which will be again, nnd there is another like it, equally quick to strike ; and these two arms, working together, will tear limb from limb that man who injures Nita Barlotti, or marries her against her will, be he in America, Italy, or at the corners of the earth. 1 sha’l follow. It was in connection with that resolve that I came here.’ He turned to the major now. * What can Ido with my lions? The cost of keeping and feeding them is considerable. This, of course, is a strain on me now that my income is cut ofl. I have no means other than what I e arn. I am poor. 1 thought of you at once as the man to help me.’ The major stroked his moustache and looked at the lion tainer. •Of course,’ he said, in his blunt way. • How much do you need? You may have all I can spare, and can pay it back at your own convenience.’ Maubikeck blushed -nothing but this could have made him blush. •You mistake my meaning, sir. Yet ib was my ow n fault in not making a clearer statement—making my meaning plain. I thought of you, not in the light of moneylender, but as Park Commissioner, who would perhaps be pleased to take the lions as a loan, place them in the menagerie at the Park, and have them fed, of course, at the expense of the city. Is the plan feasible ?’ ‘ I don’t see why not,’ I said. 4 Goodness knows, our Zoo needs some fresh attractions. Barnum, it is said, did the same thing in years gone by. I have heard that Forepaugh has done the same. Why not Maubikeck ?’ The major sat a moment thinking. •Yes,’ he said. • I believe ib has been done, though I do not recall a case in tny term oi office. But, of course, it could be done only on full vote of the board. We meet to-morrow morning, and I will broach the matter in such a way as to enlist their interest. I don’t think there will be any difficulty in getting them to accept.’ • I thank you,’ said Maubikeck, simply. 4 That will take the lions ofl your hands nnd ofl your mind,’ 1 said. 4 We can get away at once. When shall we ►ail ?’ Maubikeck looked at me in surprise. The major wheeled his chair around and faced me. 4 We ! Wr /’ ho ejaculated. 4 Are you going to Italy !’ 4 I am going wherever Maligni goes,’ I replied. *He has something that 1 want as much as Maubikeck wants Nita. The red box. Wo will go together, lion-tamer, and hunt the scoundrel down.’ Think well over this, Mr Wilber ton,’ said Maubikeck, ‘before you decide finally to go. Hunting a man in Sardinia, where Maligni i< certainly going, is very different from hunting him in New York, where you have the assistance of a great police force. There are dangers to be met with there that cannot be imagined. Once in Sardinia, Maligni can kill the man who follows him, and will not sutler for the crime. If he has outwitted us here with your boasted police force to aid us, how much more easily can he do it there, where force is about the only law recognised ?' •But,’ I replied, impatiently, 'you are going to brovo those dangers, are you not, for the girl you love ? Thon why not I?’ A peculiar look again came in Maubikeck’s eyes. 4 There is a groat difference,’ he said, ‘between us. 1 am, of course, risking my life, but 1 know the country to which I am going. You would be an utter stranger. This would not matter much if everything should turn out as we wish, and you had me to guide you. But if anything happened to me, you would be at the mercy of the most dangerous lot of brigands in the world.' I laughed at this.

* Brigands there may be, Maubikeck, but all Sardinia is not given over to the industry ot brigandage. You may have some reason for not wishing me lo accompany you. If so, then I will go alone. But lam determined to follow Maligni and obtain the red box, or wring from him the secret it contained when he got it from Barlotti.’ ‘Then I will say no more,’ said the liontamer. 'if you insist upon going, then go with me. I thought only of your own saft ty Personally, I shall be glad to have you for a companion.' So it was settled, and, after a little more talk, the lion-tamer and I started uptown, I promising to meet the major at the club at our usual hour in the afternoon. When the hour came, I found the major waiting for me in an impatient mood. •Now, see here, Wilberton,’he said, before I had even time to sit down and light a cigar, • this resolve of yours to go to Sardinia is ridiculous. I appreciate your sentiments in the matter, your reason for wishing to obtain possession of that red box or its contents and all that, but the risk is too great. You must not go.’ ‘ But I am going,’ 1 replied, calmly. ‘ You and Maubikeck speak glibly about danger and all that sort of rot WhaJ danger ? Anyhow, danger or no danger, I am going.’ * I wasn’t thinking so much of the actual danger from contact with Maligni,' said the major. • A bullet would soon put an end to his mischief-making powers. But are you wise in trusting yourself with this Maubikeck ? What do you know of him ?’ * Why, I thought you had developed a great admiration for Maubikeck,’ I said, in surprise. • What new crotchet have you got into your head now ?’ • Look here, Dick,' replied the major : * it is one thing to admire a man’s physical power or beauty, and its another thing to trust him. As a perfect specimen of man, physically, I do admire the lion tamer. He is grand. But he is too mysterious. Has he, in these days that you have spent together, told you anything about himself ’’ ‘No,’ I answered, reluctantly. * I must confess that he is very reticent about himself. He tights shy of any allusion to his former lite. Any question I ask is warded oft skilfully, and he evidently wishes to say nothing on the subject. He is affable and pleasant enough when you let him alone as a subject, but if you turn your quizzes on him he shuts up like a clam. To day when he said he knew something about Sardinia, he said more than he has in all the time we have been together.’ • That’s just it,’ said the major. • That remark has been tumbling about in my cranium ever since he made it. Mark my words, Wilterton, it is something more than mere chance that brings those two men together. Ido not like you to take the risk. Maubikeck may be all right, then again he may be all wrong.' • Wrong or right, I am going,’ I replied, stubbornly. ‘The man may have hie own good reasons for his reticence in regard to himself. Ido not hold it against a man because he does not unveil to me the secrets of his heart. And lam in the game too deeply now to withdraw. I am going to see the thing through and get that red box. That contains the secret I want. I don’t cate for Maubikeck’s secrets.’ • Well, Dick, old man,’ said the major, with a sigh, *it you must go, you must. But take a word of advice : Keep your eyes wide open and your revolver handy. In case of suspicion, don’t wait for proof, but shoot.’ I laughed, and patted the major’s arm. * 1 will take care of myself,’ I said, ‘and yootl care at that. Now I must ask a favour of you. I cannot see Edith. It is but right that she should know why I am starting oil on this journey, yet it would be unwise to breathe or write a word of our suspicions, lest they prove to be unfounded. So I shall write a letter to Edith, telling her that I am called away on matters of the utmost importance to her and me, and bidding her adieu, asking her to be true to me until I return, and assuring herot my own fathomless love. And to you I shall look to see that that letter is safely put into Edith’s own hand when no other—or no unfriendly eye —is looking.’ ‘ Trust me, Dick, I'll do it,’ said the major. * Come, let us take a stroll before supper.’ I saw that the major was somewhat affected by the prospect of my departure, and humoured him by walking with him to Delinonico’s, making our conversation as light and gay as possible, which elfort had the double ellect of pleasing him and keeping my own mind from dwelling upon the uncertainties and danger of my Sardinian man-hunt. f To be Continued.)