City Crimes Part 11

'It was, as you say,' remarked Archer to his companion in a low tone--'a most extraordinary piece of good luck for me that Sydney was taken for that murder which I committed; suspicions are diverted from me, and he will swing for it, that's certain. I'm safe in regard to that business.'

'And yet, I almost regret, Fred,' said the other, speaking in an almost inaudible whisper--'that Sydney is in the grip of the Philistines; my vengeance upon him would have been more terrible than a thousand deaths by hanging. Well, since it is so, let him swing, and be d----d to him!'

A long conversation here followed, but the two men spoke in such a low tone, that Clinton could only hear a word now and then. He was, however, certain as to the ident.i.ty of Fred Archer; and he determined not to lose sight of that ruffian without endeavoring to have him taken into custody.

At length the two men arose and quitted the temple, followed at a safe distance by the boy.

At the bottom of the marble steps which led to the halls above, Fred Archer and his companion paused for a few moments, and conversed in whispers; then the two parted, the former ascending the steps, while the latter turned and advanced slowly towards Clinton.

The boy instantly started in pursuit of Archer; but as he was about to pa.s.s the person who had just quitted the company of that villain, his progress was arrested by a strong arm, and a voice whispered in his ear--'Ah, _Kinchen_, well met!--come with me!'

Clinton attempted to shake off the stranger's grasp--but he was no match for his adversary, who dragged him back into the little temple before mentioned, and regarded him with a terrible look.

'Who are you--and what means this treatment of me?' demanded the boy, trembling with affright.

The mysterious unknown replied not by words--but slowly raised the mask from his face. Clinton's blood ran cold with horror; for, by the dim and uncertain light, he beheld the ghastly, awful features of THE DEAD MAN!

'Said I not truly that no prison could hold me?--vain are all stone walls and iron chains, for I can burst them asunder at will! I had hoped to avenge myself on that accursed Sydney, in a terrible appalling manner; but the law has become the avenger--he will die upon the gallows, and I am content. Ha, ha, ha! how he will writhe, and choke while I shall be at liberty, to read the account of his execution in the papers, and gloat over the description of his dying agonies! But I have an account to settle with _you_, _Kinchen_; you recollect how you hurled the wine-bottle at my head, as I was about to stab Sydney on the night of my capture--thereby preventing me from securing a speedy and deadly revenge at that time? Now, what punishment do you deserve for that d.a.m.nable piece of treachery to an old comrade?'

Thus spoke the terrible Dead Man, as he glared menacingly upon the affrighted and trembling Clinton, whose fears deprived him of all power of utterance.

'Sydney will hang like a dog,' continued the hideous miscreant, the words hissing from between his clenched teeth--'My revenge in _that_ quarter shall be consummated, while you, d----d young villain that you are, shall--'

'Sydney shall _not_ suffer such a fate, monster!' exclaimed Clinton, his indignation getting the better of his fears, as he looked the villain boldly in the face--'there are two witnesses, whose testimony can and will prove his innocence.'

'And who may those two witnesses be?' demanded the Dead Man scornfully.

'I am one--and Sydney's aunt, Mrs. Stevens, who resides at No. ---- Grand Street, is the other,' replied Clinton.

'And what can _you_ testify to in Sydney's favor?' asked the other in a milder tone.

'I can swear that Mr. Sydney sent me with a note to the lady who was murdered, and desired me to inform her that he had procured a good situation for her with his aunt--thus plainly showing the friendly nature of his feelings and intentions towards her,' replied Clinton.

'And this aunt--what will be the nature of _her_ testimony?' inquired the Dead Man, with a.s.sumed indifference.

'Mrs. Stevens can testify that the nephew Mr. Sydney strongly recommended her to receive the poor unfortunate lady into her service--and that arrangements were made to that effect,' answered the boy, unsuspiciously.

The Dead Man seemed for a moment lost in deep thought. 'So it appears that there are two witnesses whose testimony _might_ tend to the acquittal of Sydney,' he thought to himself. 'Those two witnesses must be put out of the way; one of them is now in my power--_he_ is done for; I am acquainted with the name and residence of the other, and by G----d, _she_ shall be done for, too!--_Kinchen_,' he said aloud, turning savagely to the boy--'You must accompany me to the Dark Vaults.'

'Never,' exclaimed Clinton, resolutely--'rather will I die here. If you attempt to carry me forcibly with you, I will struggle and resist--I will proclaim to the guests in the ball room your dread character and name; the mask will be torn from your face, and you will be dragged back to prison, from whence you escaped.'

For the second time did the Dead Man pause, and reflect profoundly. He thought somewhat in this wise:--'There is no possible means of egress from this place, except thro' the ball room, which is crowded with guests. True, I might bind and gag the _Kinchen_, but his struggles would be sure to attract attention--and my discovery and capture would be the result. It is evident, therefore, that I cannot carry him forcibly hence, with safety to myself. Shall I _murder_ him? No, d.a.m.n it, 'tis hardly worth my while to do that--and somehow or other, these murders almost invariably lead to detection. The devil himself couldn't save my neck if I were to be hauled up on another murder--yet, by h.e.l.l, I must risk it in reference to that Mrs. Stevens, whose testimony would be apt to save her accursed nephew, Sydney, from the gallows. Yes, I must slit the old lady's windpipe; but the _Kinchen_--what the devil shall I do to keep _him_ from blabbing, since I can't make up my mind to kill him?'

Suddenly, a horrible thought flashed through the villain's mind.

'_Kinchen_,' he whispered, with a fiend-like laugh--'I have thought of a plan by which to _silence your tongue forever_.'

He drew a huge clasp-knife from his pocket. Ere Clinton could cry out for a.s.sistance, the monster grasped him by the throat with his vice-like fingers--the poor boy's tongue protruded from his mouth--and oh, horrible! the incarnate devil, suddenly loosening his hold on the throat, quick as lightning caught hold of the tongue, and forcibly drew it out to its utmost tension--then, with one rapid stroke of his sharp knife, he _cut it off_, and threw it from him with a howl of savage satisfaction. 'Now, d----n you,' exclaimed the Dead Man--'see if you can testify in court!'

The victim sank upon the floor, weltering in his blood, while the barbarian who had perpetrated the monstrous outrage, fled from the conservatory, pa.s.sed through the ball room and proceeded with rapid strides towards the residence of Mrs. Stevens, Sydney's aunt, in Grand Street, having first put on the mask which he wore to conceal the repulsive aspect of his countenance. He found the house without difficulty, for he remembered the number which poor Clinton had given him; and ascending the steps, he knocked boldly at the door.

The summons was speedily answered by a servant who ushered the Dead Man into a parlor, saying that her mistress would be down directly. In a few moments the door opened and Mrs. Stevens entered the room.

This lady was a widow, somewhat advanced in years, and in affluent circ.u.mstances. Her countenance was the index of a benevolent and excellent heart; and in truth she was a most estimable woman.

'Madam,' said the Dead Man--'I have called upon you at the request of your unfortunate nephew, Francis Sydney.'

'Oh, sir,' exclaimed the old lady, shedding tears--'how is the poor young man--and how does he bear his cruel and unjust punishment?--for unjust it is, as he is innocent of the dreadful crime imputed to him.

Alas! the very day the poor lady was murdered, he called and entreated me to take her into my service, to which I readily consented. Oh, he is innocent, I am sure.'

'Mrs. Stevens,' said the villain--'I have something of a most important nature to communicate, relative to your nephew; are we certain of no interruption here?--for my intelligence must be delivered in strict privacy.'

'We are alone in this house,' replied the unsuspecting lady. 'The servant who admitted you has gone out on a short errand, and you need fear no interruption.'

'Then, madam, I have to inform you that--'

While uttering these words, the Dead Man advanced towards Mrs. Stevens, who stood in the centre of the apartment; he a.s.sumed an air of profound mystery, and she, supposing that he was about to whisper in her ear, inclined her head toward him. That movement was her last on earth; in another instant she was prostrate upon the carpet, her throat encircled by the fingers of the ghastly monster; her countenance became suffused with a dark purple--blood gushed from her mouth, eyes and nostrils--and in a few minutes all was over!

The murderer arose from his appalling work, and his loathsome face a.s.sumed, beneath his mask, an expression of demoniac satisfaction.

''Tis done!' he muttered--'d.a.m.n the old fool, she thought I was a _friend_ of her accursed nephew's. But I must leave the corpse in such a situation that it may be supposed the old woman committed suicide.'

He tore off the large shawl which the poor lady had worn, and fastened it about her neck; then he hung the body upon the parlor door, and placed an overturned chair near its feet, to lead to the supposition that she had stood upon the chair while adjusting the shawl about her neck and then overturned it in giving the fatal spring. This arrangement the Dead Man effected with the utmost rapidity and then forcing open a bureau which stood in the parlor, he took from the drawer various articles of value, jewelry, &c., and a pocket-book containing a considerable sum of money--forgetting, in his blind stupidity, that the circ.u.mstances of a robbery having taken place, would destroy the impression that the unfortunate old lady had come to her death voluntarily by her own hands.

The murderer then fled from the house and that night he and Archer, in the mysterious depths of the Dark Vaults, celebrated their b.l.o.o.d.y exploits by mad orgies, horrid blasphemy, and demoniac laughter.

We left Clinton weltering in his blood upon the floor of the temple in the conservatory. The poor mangled youth was discovered in that deplorable situation shortly after the perpetration of the abominable outrage which had deprived him of the blessed gift of speech forever. He was conveyed to the residence of Dr. Schultz, a medical gentleman of eminent skill, who stopped the effusion of blood, and p.r.o.nounced his eventual recovery certain. But oh! who can imagine the feelings of the unfortunate boy, when returning consciousness brought with it the appalling conviction that the faculty of expressing his thoughts in words was gone forever, and henceforward he was hopelessly _dumb_! By great exertion he scrawled upon a piece of paper his name and residence; a carriage was procured, and he was soon beneath the roof of his master, Mr. Sydney, under the kind care of honest Dennis and the benevolent housekeeper.

And Sydney--alas for him! Immured in that awful sepulchre of crime, the Tombs--charged with the deed of murder, and adjudged guilty by public opinion--deserted by those whom he had regarded as his friends, suffering from confinement in a noisome cell, and dreading the ignominy of a trial and the horrors of a public execution--his fair fame blasted forever by the taint of crime--what wonder that he, so young, so rich, so gifted with every qualification to enjoy life, should begin to doubt the justice of divine dispensation, and, loathing existence, pray for death to terminate his state of suspense and misery!

But we must not lose sight of Josephine Franklin; her adventures at the masquerade hall were of too amorous and exciting a nature to be pa.s.sed lightly over, in this mirror of the fashions, follies and crimes of city life.--Our next chapter will duly record the particulars of the fair lady's romantic intrigues on that brilliant and memorable occasion.

CHAPTER X

_The Amours of Josephine--The Spanish Amba.s.sador, and the Ecclesiastical Lover._

Josephine, dressed as the 'Royal Middy,' entered the conservatory, and strolled leisurely along a gravelled walk which led to a little grotto composed of rare minerals and sh.e.l.ls. Entering this picturesque retreat, she placed herself upon a seat exquisitely sculptured from marble, and listened to the beautiful strains of music which proceeded from the ball room.

While thus abandoning herself to the voluptuous feelings of the moment, she observed that a tall, finely formed person in the costume of a Spanish cavalier, pa.s.sed the grotto several times, each time gazing at her with evident admiration. He was masked, but Josephine had removed her mask, and her superb countenance was fully revealed. The cavalier had followed her from the ball-room, but she did not perceive him until he pa.s.sed the grotto.

'I have secured an admirer already,' she said to herself, as a smile of satisfaction parted her rosy lips. 'I must encourage him, and perhaps he may prove to be a desirable conquest.'

The cavalier saw her smile and, encouraged by that token of her complaisance, paused before the grotto, and addressed her in a slightly foreign accent:--

'Fair lady, will you suffer me to repose myself for a while in this fairy-like retreat?'