The watchman and southron. (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, August 01, 1894, Image 1
Wyt tofttcljmftti imo jSontljron.
THE SUMTER WATCHMAN, Established April, 1850. "Be Just and Fear not-Let all the Ends thou Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God's and Truth's."' THE TKUE SOUTHRON. Established Jone. 1206
Consolidated Aug. 2,1881. _SUMTER, S. C., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 1, 1894._ New Series-Vol. XIV. So.1.
(Tbc tttflattbnmn ?mb Sou?ljron.
Pu?dislied Every Wednesday,
-BY
INJ". G-. Osteen,
SUMTER, S. C.
TERMS :
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COPTRI;HT, taos, BY THE AUTHOR.
" Twas about to say him nay when it
came into my mind that I had nothing to
do. and that perhaps I might learn some?
thing from his gossip.
"The day is hot. sonor, and I accept/'
He spoke no more, but rising led nie
into a courtyard paved with marble; in thc
center of which was a basin of water, hav?
ing vines trained around it. Hore were
chairs and a little table placed in the shade
of the vines. When he had closed the door
of the patio and wc wore scated, ho rani: a
silver bell that stood upon tho table, und
a girl, yountr and fair, appeared from tbe
house, dressed in a quain: Spanish dross
"Brin? wine."' said my host.
The wine was brought-white wine of
Oporto such as I liad never tasted before.
'"Your health, senor.7' And my host
stopped, his glass in hand, and looked at
me inquiringly.
''Diego d'Aila." I answered.
"Humph.*" ho said. "A Spanish name,
cr perhaps an imitation Spanish name, for
I do not know it, and I have a good hoad
for names. * '
"That is my name, to take or to leave,
senor." and I looked at him in turn.
"Andres de Fonsoca. "' he replied, bow?
ing, '"a physician of this city, well known
enough, especially among rho fair. Well, j
Senor Diego. I rake your name, for names
are nothing, and at times it is convenient
to change thom, which is nobody's busi
'' Y<>?ir hv-u?t??, scn<it\"'
noss except their owners'. I soo that you
arc a stranger in this city-no need to look
surprised, son-jr. One \vh< > is famiiiarwith
a town do?-s not gaze and stare and ask
the path of passersby, nor does a native
uf Seville walk on tho sunny side of thc
street in summer. And now. if you will
not think me impertinent, i will ask you
what can be the business (if so healthy a
young man with my rival yonder?" And
he nodded toward tho house of tho famous
physician.
"A man's business, like his name, is his
own affair, bcnor." I answered, setting
my host down in my mind as ono of those
who disgrace <>ur art by plying openly for
patients that they may capture their fees.
"Still I will t?-!l you. I am also a physi?
cian, though not yet fully qualified, and I
seek a place where I may help some doctor
of repute in his daily practice, and thus
gain experience and my living with it."
"Ah. is it so'' Well, senor, then you will
look in vain yonder, " and again he nodded
toward the physician's house. "Such as
he will take no apprentice without tho fee
be large indeed. It is not the custom of
this city."
''Then I must seek a livelihood else?
where or otherwise. ' '
"I did not say so. Now, senor, let us
see what you know of medicine, and. '?.hat
is more in:;*ortan t, of human nature, for
of the iirst none of asean ever know much,
hut he who knows thc latter will bea lead?
er of men-?>r of women-who lead the
men.'"
And without more ado he ?jut me many
questions each of thom >o shrewd and
going so directly to tho .boan of tho mat?
ter in hand that I marveled at his sagaci?
ty. Some of those questions were medical;
dealing chiefly with the ailments of w6m
tn; others were general and dealt more
with their characters. At length he fin?
ished
"You will do. senor." he said. "You
an.- a young man of parts and promise,
though, as was to tn* expected from ono of
your years, you lark experience. Then- is
stuff in you. senor, and you have a heart,
which is a good tiling, for the blunders of
a man with a heart often carry him farther
than the cunning of the cynic; also you
have a will and know how to direct it."
I bowed and did my t>ost to hold back
my satisfaction at his words from showing
in my face.
"Still," h?' wont on, '"ail this would not
caus*' me to submit to you tho offei that I
am al?out to make, for marjy a prettier fel?
low than yourself is. after ail. unlucky, or
a fool at the bottom, or l>ad tempered and
destined to the dogs, its for aiurhr I know
you may be also. But I take my chance
of that l>eeausi- yon suit me in another
way. Perhaps you may scarcely know it
yourself, but you have l**auty, senor, beau?
ty of a very rare and singular type, which
half the ladies of Seville will praise when
they come t<> know yon. "
"I am much tottered." I said, "but
miirht I ask what all these compliments
may mean? To bc brief, what i? your of?
fer?"
"Tobe brief, then, it is this: I am ?'i
need of an assistant who iims? possess Jill
the^uaiities that J se.' in y<>u. bu* m<?t
ur all ono whic*iiTcah only guess you
possess-discretion. That assistant won
no: bc ill paid. This house would bc
his disposal, and he would have opport
nities of learning the world such as a
given to few. What say you''"
.*I say this, senor, that I should wish
know more of the business in which I a
expected to assist. Your offers sound t
liberal, and I fear that I must earn yo
bounty by the doing of work that hone
men might shrink from."
"'A fair argument, but, as it happer
not quite a correct one. Listen. You lia
been told that- yonder physician, to who
house you went but now, and these"
here he repeated four or five names--*a
thc greatest cf their tribe in Seville. It
not so. I am thc greatest and the riche:
and I do more business than any two
them. Do you know what my earnin,
have Ixvn this day alone? I will tell you
just over -.*> gold pesos (about ?63) mo
than all the rest of the profession have ta
en together. I will wager. You want
know how I earn so iTiuch: you want
know also why. if I have earned so niue
I am not content to rest from my laboi
Good; I will '?.ell you. I earn it by mini
tering to thc vanities of women and she
tering them from the results of their ow
folly. Has a lady a sore heart, she com
! to me for comfort and advice. Has si
pimples on her face, she flies to mc to cu
them. Has she a secret love affair, it is
who hide her indiscretion. I consult ti
future for lier, I help her to atone thc pas
I doctor her for imaginary ailments, ai
often enough I cure her of real ones. Ha
the secrets of Seville are in my hands. D
I choose to speak I could set a score of n
? ble houses to broil and bloodshed. But
do not speak. I am paid to keep silcn
and when I am not paid still I keep s
lent for my credit's sake. Hundreds ?
! women think me their savior: I kno
them for my dupes. But. mark you, I c
not push this game too far. A love phi!t<
j -of colored water-I may give at a prie
I but not a poisoned rose. These they mu:
seek elsewhere. For the rest, in my wa
I am honest. I take thc world as it- come:
that is all. and as women will bc foetid
pr-.fit by their folly and have grown ric
upon it.
"Yes, I have grown rich, and yd I ca:
? not stop. I love the motley that is ??owe;
! but more than all 1 love thc way of lit',
I Talk of romances and adventure: Whi
romance or adventure is half so wonderfi
j as those that come daily to my notici
And I play ? part in every one of then
I and none the less a lending part because
; do not shout and strut upon thc boards,
j "If all this is so. why do you seek th
j help of an unknown lad. a stranger >
! whom vou know nothing?*' I asked blum
! ly
"Truly, you lack experience," the oI<
I man answerexL with a laugh; "Do you
then, suppose that I should choose on
who was not a stranger-one who mig}]
have ties within this city with which
was unacquainted- And as for know: :v
nothing of you. young man. do you thin!
that I have followed tins strange trade o
mine for -i'' years withom learning t
judge at sight? Perhaps I know you bet
ter than y >u know yourself. By the way
the fact that you tire deeply enamored c
that maldwhom you have left in Knglan*
is a recommendation to me. for whareve
follies you may commit you will scarce!;
embarrass me and yourself by suffcrin;
your affections tobe seriously entangled
: Ah. havel astonished you?"
"How do you know?"' I began, the.
! ceased.
j l-Howdo I know? Why. easily enough
Those boots you wear were made in Eng
! land. I haye seen many such when I tr.v.
j eleu there. Your accent als??, though faint
; is English, and twice you have spoke:
English words when your Castillan faiiex
? you. Then fur the maid, is nor that a be
j trothal ring upon your hand!' And when !
? spoke to you of the ladies of this country
j my talk did not interest you overmuch, a
? at your age it had done were yen hear
! whole. Surely also the lady is fair ant
! tall? Ah. I thought so! I have noticei
! that mei. and women love their opposite ii
I color, no invariable rule indeed, but gooc
for a guess. "
'"You are very clever, senor."
*"2So, not clever, but trained, as you wiL
bc when you have been a year in mj
hands, though perchance you do not intent
I to stop -so long in Seville. Perhaps yoi
j came here with an object and wish to pas*
'? the time profitably till it is fulfilled. A
! good guess,again, I think. Well, so 1M- it.
j I will risk that-object and attainment arv
j often far apart. Do you take my offer?"
"I incline to do so."
"Then you will take it. Xbw I ha vt
; something more to say before we come tc
; tenus. I do not want you to play the pan
j of an apothecary's drudge. You will fig
; ure before ihc world as my nephew, come
'. fruin abroad to leam my trade. You will
help me ?E i: indeed, but that is not aU
: your duty. Your part will IX? to mix in
the life of Seville and to watch those
; whom I bid you watch, to drop a* word
j here and a hint there, and in a hundred
ways that I shall show you t.. draw grist
: to my mill-and to your own. You must
j he brilliant and witty or sad and learned,
as 1 wish; you mu.st make tlie most oi
your person and your talents, for these go
far with my customers. To th" hidalgo
: you must talk of arms, to the lady of love.
: but you must never commit yourself be
, yond redemption. And. above ail? young
man"-and here his maimer changed, and
j his face grew stern and ul most fierce
'.you must never violate my confidence or
. the confidence of ruy clients. Un this point
I will be quite open with you, and I pray
j you for your own sake to believe what I
. say, however much you may mistrust tho
j rest. If you break faith with rn?-, you ?lie:
j you die, not by my hand, but^you die.
: That is my price; tak<- it or leave it.
I Should you leave it and go henri- and tell
j what you have heard this day. even then
j misfortune may overtake yon suddenly
i Do you understand?"
j "I understand. For my own >ak'- I will
. respect your confidence.*'
! "Young sir, I like you riettcr than ever,
j Had you said that you would nspectit l?c
: cause it was a confidenoe. I should have
; mistrusted you. f..r doubtless you fee] thar
! secret? communicated so readily have no
i claim to IK; h<-ld saered. Nor have they,
but when their violation involves th sad
and accidental end of the viol?t-ir it is
another matter. Well, now, do you ;u
cept?*'
.I accept.
' (;.?KL Your baggagfr, I supuse, is a:
the inn. I will >.-n?i porters t?? di sellars:
! your seor?. and bring if here. No rn-?-d : .r
you to go. nephew. IA t us -:?.;> and "inn!.
I another glass of win?-. The Stoner we
grow intimate tl?; bettet, nephew."
I It was thus that I first became acmiain:
ed with Senor Andres dc, F??nseea, my
j r^?ciacT?rTTI?^trangost man T nave c
; kjiown. Doubtless any person rending t
, history would think that I. tho narnu
j was sowing a plentiful crop of troubles
I myself in having to deal with him. sett
him down as a rogue of thc deepest, si
; ns sometimes for their own wicked p
; posos decoy young mon to crime and ru
! But it was nor. so. and this is the strang
; part of the strange story. All that And
. dc Fonscca told mc was true to thc v<
I letter.
He was a gentleman of grvat talent \v
: had iK-cn rendered a little mad by misf
! tunes in his carly life. As a physiciai
I have never met his master, if indeed
! has one in these times, and as a man vers
! in the world and more especially in 1
I world of women I have known none
j compare with him. He had traveled ;
I and seen much, and he forgot nothii
i In part he was a quack, but his quackx
? always hadji meaning in it. He flecc
I the foolish indeed" and ?veil juggled wi
j astronomy, making money ont of their i
i perstition, but on the other hand he (
! many a good act without reward. !
I would make a rich lady pay 10 gold pcs
for the dyeing of her hair, but often
would nurse some poor girl through 1
trouble and ask no charge-yes, and ii
her honest employment after it. He w
knew all the secrets of Seville never ma
j money out of them by threat of exposai
j as he said because it would not pay to i
I so, but really because, though he affect
j to be a selfish knave, at bottom his hea
j was honest.
j For my own part, I found life with hi
j both easy and happy, so fur as mine cou
j be quito happy. Soon I learned my rc
and played it well. It was given out th
I was the nephew of the rich old physich
Fonscca, whom he was training to take 1
place, and this, together with my own a
I pearancc and manners, insured mc a w<
j come in the best houses of Seville Her*
t'K>k that share of our business whicli o
master could nor take for now he nov
mixed among tho fashion of the cit
Money I was supplied with in abundanc
so that I could ruffle it with tho best, b
soon it became known that I looked
business as well as tu pleasure.
Often and often during some gay ball
I carnival a lady would glide-up tornear
j ask beneath her breath it' Don Andres <
j Fonscca would consent to sec her privat
j ly on a matter of some importance, and
: would fix an hour then and there. Had
' not been for mc such patients would lur
j been lost tous, since, for thc most par
! their timidity had kept them away,
j In thc same fashion when thc festiv
! was ended, and I prepared to wend hom
j ward, now and again a gallant would si
; his arm in mine and ask my master's he!
; in some affair of love or honor or even *
I the purse. Then I would lead him st mig!
Ito tlie old Moorish house -where Don Ai
I dres sot writing in his velvet ro!>e lil
sonic spider in his web, fo? the mos: <
j our business was done a* night, an
: straightway the matter would be attend?
; to. T-- my masters profit and the satisfy
j tion of al?. liv degrees i: became know
I thar, though I was so young, yet I had ?li
; oreti.>n. and that nothing which wem 1
! at my ears came ont >f my lips: that
: neither bisiwled.nor drank nor gamble
i to any !< ngth. and that, though ? w.
friendly wiri: many fair i?-s. there wet
j none who wore entitled tu know mys*
ere ts: als?) i: bi-eaiuo known that I ha
some skill in my-art of healings ?and i
was -aid ;;::....!._' the ladies > -? Seville rh.
there lived no mai: in that eity so deft <?;
clearing tho skin of blemishes-.or chan;
j ing the color of tho hair as old Fonsoea'
: nephew, and tis any 'on? may know thi
reputation alone was worth a fort un?
: Thus it ?xim? ;,\>\r that I was rn??re an
; :i:>>r.nsulted ?n my ?>wn aw)UJi?. i
? short, things went so well with us thal i:
:!:>? first six months of my practice I add
i ed by one third'Co thu receipts of my ma?
i tor's practice, large as they had been b<
. fore, .H'sides lightening his labors not .
i little.
j It was a strange life, and of thc thin?:
I that I saw andlearned, could tiny Ix-writ
ton. I might make a tale indeed, but the:
j have no part in this history, for it wa
J as though th* smiles and .?ilene,? wiri
j which men aud women hide their thought
wen- done away, and their hearts spoke *?<
j us in the accents of truth. Xow some ?ai
young maid or wife would come to C?
with confessions of wickedness that woui<
I be thought impossible . 1 i ii not her st-on
? prove itself-the secret murder pcrchaop
: of a spouse. -.?r a lover, or a rival: 7i"i\
! some aged dame who would win a hu sham
I in his teens: asow some wealthy low bon:
j man or womaK who desired t?> buy una!
i liance with one lacking money, but of no
j ble blood. Such I did not care to bel]
indeed, bur t<- the lovesick or the love de?
luded I listened with a ready ear. for 3
had a fellow feeling.--with them. Inderi
s?> deep and earnest was my sympathy
that more than once I lound the unhappy
j fair ready tu transfer their affections m
my unworthy self, and in fact once thing?
came about sotbat. had 1 willed ir. I could
have married ow of the loveliest and
I wealthiest nobb ladies of Seville.
? Hut I would none it who thought-ot?
' my English Lflj by day and night.
CHAPTER VII.
THE SEToXD .MK KT J Nt*?,
i It may be thought that while I was em
! ployed thus I had forgotten the ohj??ct of
; ?Ky coming to Spain-namely, to avenge
: my mother'.? murder on the person of
: Juan de ?Jarcia. But this was nut so. So
Boon as I was settled in the house of An
divs de Fonscca I set myself to make in?
quiries as te De Garcia's whereabouts with
all possible diligence, but without result.
Indeed when I rame lo consider thc mat
? ter coolly it seemed thai I had but a sien
j der chance of finding him in this city. Ho
i had indeed given ir our in Yarmouth that
he was bound for Seville, but no ship bear
j ing the same name :ts his had ??ut in at
. Cadiz or sidled up the Guadalquivir, nor
was it likely, having committed murder
j in England, that he would epcak thc truth
j as to his destina ti? m. Still I searched on.
The house where my mother and grand
i mother had liv? d was burned down, and
; as their io'?h-of lif.- had licen retired after
' m->!--- than Jo y?:*ars nf change few even re
DiemlM?r?'<l Ch?*ir existence. Indeed I only
discovered one, an old > >m;ui whom I
i found living in extreme poverty, and who
on :e had !.. ? n my grandmother's servan ?
and knew HIV mother well, although she
w:is not in the house at the time of her
flight to England. From this woman I
gathered s?>me informal! >n. t?K>u?*h. ne?ni
less t? say. I did not tell her that I wa.? the
; grands??n of h. r . .!.! mistress,
i Jt seemed that after my mother lied to [
. England %v. ir li my fa th? r ]>?? Garcia j. ?erse- '
. ira ted my grandmother and his aunt with I
lawsuits andUy other moans tm at 1
she was reduced to beggary, in which ?
dition thc villain left lier to die. So p
was she indeed that she was buried i:
public grave. After that the old worn;
my informant. s<-iid she had heard that
Garcia had committed some crime a
been forced to flee thc country. What 1
crime was she could not remember, bul
had happened about 15 years ago.
All this I learned when I had been abc
three months in Seville, and though it v
of interest it did not advance mc in :
search.
Some four or five nights afterward, a
entered my employer's house. I met a you
woman coming out of thc doorway of t
patio. She was thickly veiled, and my i
tice was drawn to lier by her tall and bea
tiful figure and because she was weep!
so violently that her body shook with 1
sobs. I was already well accustomed
such sights, for many of those who song
my master's counsel had good cause
weep, and I passed her without remar
But when I was come into thc roomwhe
he received his patients I mentioned thai
had met such a person and asked if it w
any one whom I knew.
4-Ah. nephew,'' said Fonseca, who i
ways called me thus by now. and inde
began to treat inc with as much affecti
as though I were really of his blood. '
sad eas??, but you do not know her. ands
is no paying patient. A poor girl of r.
ble birth who had entered religion a:
taken her vows, when a gallant appen]
meets her secretly in thc convent garde
promises te marry her if she will fly wi
him. indeed docs go through some mut
mery of marriage with her-so she says
and the rest of it. Now he has desert?
her, and she is in trouble, and, what
more, should thc priests catch her. like
to learn what it feels like to die by inch
in a convent wall. She came to me f
counsel and brought some silver ornamcn
as the fee. Here they arc. "
"You took them?*''
''Yes, I took them-I always take a fee
1 ut I gave her back their weight in gol
What is more. I told her where she mig]
hide from thc priests till the hunt is doi
with. What I did ;iot like to tell her
that her iover is thc greatest villain wi
ever trod thc streets of Seville. What w;
the g< M >d? She will see little more of him.
And now I must tell how I met ir
cousin and my enemy. De Garcia, for tl
second time. Two days after my mcetir
with thc veiled lady it chanced that I w;
wandering toward midnight through
lonely parr of the old city little fr?quente
by passersby. It was scare?-ly safe to!
thus alone in such a place arid hour, bt
thc business with which I had been char;
ed by my master was one t hat must 1
carried our unattended: also I had r
enemies whom T knew of a:;d was arin*
with the very sword that I hadtaken fro]
!)<. Garcia in the hine at Ditehingham, tl
sword that had slain my mother, an
which I bore in the hope that ir min!
sere.- to avenge her. In the use of rh
weapon I had grown expert enough h
I now. for even* morning i took lessons i
! the arr of fence.
; My business being done. I was wa?kii:
: slowly homeward, and as i Went I fell t
thinking of the strangeness of my preser
life; and ol' how lar i; differed from m
boyhood in the valley of YYaveney; and i
[mam^orher things. And then J. thong]
. of tlly aad wandered IK AV her days "?as:
ed. aad ii my brother Coe?Yrey persecute
; herto marry him. and whether or no sh
? would resisi his importunities mid her :*;:
j thers. Arni sri as I walked musi?gi cam
I to a watergate thar opened ? :<. to the ' ina*!
I alquivir. and leaiiing upon the coping s
i a. low wall I rested theri to eonside
; t??- beauty ? t? *}>.. night. In rr ;:T ?I. ii was
? ]<>vely night, for across ail these years
! remember it. Let those v.holjave SITU i
! say if they know any prospect more ocnu
[ tif?l than thc .sight of the August moo]
! shining on the broad wat,rs of the Guad
! alquivir and the clustering: r?ibita?ions ?
i the ancient city.
Now. as I leaned upon the \v;di and look
ed. I saw a man j ?ass up thc steps besid
! me and go into tia* shadow of the street
I took no note of him til*, presently I heart
a murmur ol distant voices, ?and turninj
my head I discovered ?Jiat the man was it
conversation with a woman "whom he hac
met at thc head of the path that ran dow;
to the water gate. Doubtless it was a lov
ers' meeting, and since such -sights are o
interest to ail, and more especially to tin
young, I watched the pair. Soon I karnet
! that there was little of tenderness in tim
! tryst, at hast on the part of thc gallant,
j who drew continually back-ward towart
I me as though he would seek tlie boat bj
which doubtless he had conic and I mar?
veled at this. for the moonlight shon?
Upon the woman's face, and even at that
distance I could sec that it was very fair.
Tin-man's face l-could not set?, however,
since his back was toward mc for the mest
I part. Moreover, he ivoro a large sombrero
that shaded it. Now they came nearer to
me, the man always drawing backward
and the wonjan always following till at
length they wen- within earshot. Thc
woman was pleading with the man.
j "Surely you will n<?t desert mi-.".-?lie
said, "after rimrrying nie and all that you
i have sworn: you'will n<>: have the heart
j to desert mc. 1 aliaiidoned everything?>r
you. I am in grear danger. .1"-and herc
I lier voice fell so that I could Hot catch her
Words.
I Then he spoke: "'Fairest now. as al
? ways. I adore you. But Wt must part
I awhile. Von owe nit.1 much lsal?ella. I
have rescued you from the grave; I have
taught you what ir is to live and love.
Doubtless with your advantages and
charms you will profit by the lesson.
Honey I cannot give you. for J have none
to spare, but I have endowed you with ex?
perience that is more valuable by far. This
t ?ur farewell for awhile, and I nm broken
hearted. Yet
"'N'-ath fairer skies
Shine other eves,
and I"-and again be ?>?>oke so low that 1
could not cai ch his words.
As ho talked on i?l my Ixxly began to
tremble. The scene was moving indeed,
but-it was not f lint which stirred me so
deeply-it was the man's voice and bear?
ing that reminded me -no, it could scarcc*
ly be!
"Oh. you will not lie so cruel, " said--the i
lady, "to leave me, your wife, thus alone
and fri such sore.trouhieand danger! Take i
mewith yon, .Tuan, I IniScech y??u!v And j
*he caught him by the armand clung to
bim:
Me shook lier from him somewhat r< ?ugh
ly. ?md :?s he did so his wide hat fell to the 1
ground so that tin; moonlight shone up'ii
hi- face. By heaven, it was lie-Juan de 1
Garcia and no other! I could not 1?-mi>
taken. There was the deeply carv.vl. cruel !
face, th<- high forehead with the scar on it. j
thc thin, sneering mouth, tho peaked heard
and curling half: diane"? "SSS. given him
into roy hand, and I would kill him, or he
should kill ino.
I took three paces and stood before him,
drawing my sword, as I came.
"What, my dove, have you a bully at
hand?" ho said, stepping hack astonished.
''Your business, senor? Arc you here to
champion beauty in distress?"*
"I am herc, Juan dc Garcia, to avongea
murdered woman. I)o you remember a
certain river hank away in England, -whore
*1 am herc, Juan dc Garcia, to avenge a
.murdered woman."
you chanced tr? meer a lady you had known
and to leave her dead? Or. if you have for?
gotten, perhaps at least you will remember
this, which I carry that it may kill you."
And I flashed tlic sword that had been his
before his eyes.
'"Mother of God1. It is thc English boy
who"-and~ne stopped! ~~
"It is Thomas Wingfield, who heat and
bound you, and who now purposes to fin?
ish what he began yonder as ht? was sworn.
Draw. or. Juan dc Garcia, I will stab you
where you stand."
De Garcia heard this speech, that today
seems to me to smack cf the theater,
though it- was spoken m grimmest earnest,
and his face grew like the lace of a trap?
ped wolf. Yet I saw that he had no mind
to fight, not because of cowardice, for to
do him justice he was no coward, hut be?
cause cf superstition. He feared to fight
with mc sicco, as I learned afterward, he
believed that he would meet his end at my
hand, and it was for this reason chiefly
that he strove to kill mc when first we
met.
The duello has
laws, senor." he
said courteously. '"It is not usual to fight
thus unseconded and in the presence of a
woman. If you believe that you have any
grievance against mc-though I know not
of what you rave or thc name hy which
you call me-I will meet you where and
v.-h".Ti you will. " And all thc .while he
looked over his shoulder seeking some way
ul" escape.
"You will meet me now." I answered.
'Draw or I strike!"
Then he drew, and we fell
uespcr
atcly enough till the sparks Hew indeed
and the rattle of steel upon steel rang
?own the quiet street. A t first he had
soriiewha: *!:?. better of mr. for my hate
made wild i;: my play. bat soon I set?
tled t" t.'i" work anti grew copier.
?lowly I pressed him back, and ever my
?-lay grew 'operand better and his became
wilder. Now I had ?uched Lim twice. <.nee
in the facir. aral 1 held him willi his Lack
against rh.- wall of the way that led down
to I !.<. water gate. i i: hud come to this
that he scarcely strov, ri, thrust at nie at
all. bat st'A.d . a ais defense waiting til! I
should tire. Then, when victory was in
my hand. disaster overtook nu*, for the
woman, who bau been watching bewilder
ed. suv that her la ithiess lover was in dan?
ger ol' death and straightway seized me
from behind, ai the same time sending up
shriek after shriek fur help.
I shook her from nie quickly enough,
but not before De Garcia, seeing his ad?
vantage, liad dealt me a coward's ti.rust
thar took me in the righr shoulder and
half crippled me. s<> that in my turn I
must stand on my defense if I would keep
j my life in me. Meanwhile the shrieks had
j been heard, and of a sudden the watch
j came running round the corner '-whistling
! for help. D*.' Garcia saw them, and disen
? gaging suddenly turned and ran for the
water gate, tia* lady also vanishing, whith
I er I do ii"t know.
j Now the watch was on me. and their
leader came at mc to seize me. h. liding a
lantern in his hand. 1 st rack ir with thc
handle of the sword, so that it fell upon
the roadway, where it blazed up like a
bonfire. Then 1 turned also and fled, for
I did not wish to be dragged before the
magistrates of the city as a brawler, and
in my desire tv escape 1 forgot that De
Garcia was escaping also. Away I went,
j ami three of the watch after me. but they
; were stout and scant of breath, and *y
I the time that I had rna three furlongs I
! distanced them. I halted to get tay breath
and remembered th.a" I had lo>r DoGarcia
and did not know when 1 should find him
again. So 1 went homeward, cursing my
fortune and the wuniari who had clasped
me from behind just as I was about to
send the deal h thrust home, and also my
laek of skill which had delayed that thrust
so long.
By now I was at home and bethought
me that 1 should dowell ti? go to Fonscca.
my muster, and ask his help. On the mor?
row I went ti, my master's chamber, where
lie lay al nd. having been seized by a sud?
den weakness that was tin- beginning of the ?
illness which ended in death. As I mixed
a draft for him he noticed that my shoul?
der was hurt and asked me what had hap?
pened. This gave me my opportunity,
which 1 was mn .slow to take.
.'Dave you patience tollsten toa story. "
I said, "for I would sock your help?"
"Ah," he answered, "it is the old case;
the physician cannot heal himself. Speak
on. nephew. "
Then I sat down by the t>ed and told
him .all. keeping nothing Iwick.
"You are strangely foolish, nephew."
he said at length. "For the most part,
youth fails through rashness, but von err
Highest of ail in Leavening Pov
by ovorcaution. " By overc?ution in your
fence yen lost your chance last night, and
so by ovorcaution in hiding this tale from
me you have lost a far greater opportuni?
ty. What, have you not seen me give
counsel in many such matters, and have
you ever known me to betray the confi?
dence even of the veriest stranger'" Why,
then, did you fear for yours?"
''I do not know." I answered. 4'but I
thought that first I would search for my?
self."
'"Pride goeth before a fall, nephew.
Xow listen. Had I known this history a
month ago. by now He Garcia had perish?
ed miserably, and not by your hands, but
by that of the law. I have Iwn acquaint?
ed with thc man from his childhood and
know enough to hang him twice over did
I choose to speak. More. I knew your
mother, bey, and now I soe that it was
the likeness in your face to hers that;
haunted me. for from thc first ir- was fa?
miliar. It was I also who bribed thc keep?
ers of tlic holy office to let your father
loose, though, as it chanced. I never saw
him, and arranged his flight. Since then
I have had De Garcia through my hands
some four or five times, now under this
name and now under that. Once even he
came to me as a client, but the villainy
that he would have worked was too black
for mc to touch. This man is the wicked?
est whem I have known in Seville, and
that is saying much; also he is the clever?
est and thc most revengeful. He lives by
vice for vice, and there are many deaths
upon Ids hands. But he has never pros?
pered in his evildoing, and today he is
but an adventurer without a name, who
lives by blackmail and by ruining women
that he may rob them at his leisure. Give
me those books from tho strong box yon?
der, and I will tell you cf this De Garcia.''
I did as he bade mc, bringing the heavy
parchment volumes, each bound in vellum
and written in cipher.
'.These arc my records," he said,
"though none can read them except my?
self. Xow for the index. Ah, here it is!
Give me volume 3 and open it at page 201. "
I obeyed, laying thc book on thc bcd be?
fore him, and he began to read the crabbed,
marks as easily as though they were good
black letter,
j ..Dc Garcia-Juan. Height, appear?
ance, family, false names, and so on. This
is it-history. Nov/ listen.''
Then came some two pages of closely
written matter, expressed in secret signs
that Fonscca translated as he read.. It was
brief enough, but such a record as it con?
tained I have never heard before nor since.
Here, set out against this one man's narrie,
was well nigh every wickedness of which
a human- being could bc capable, carried
through by him to gratify his appetites
and revengeful hate and ro provide himself
With gold.
In that black list were t wo murders
one of a rival by the knife and enc cf a
mistress by poison. And there were other
things even worse, tco shameful indee.] to
be writ Ti n.
"Doubtless there is more thai has nor
come beneath my notice.*' said Fonsoca
c< oliy, ""but diesethings i k .owler truth,
and one of thc murders could be proved
against him were he captured Sm;-, div?
ine ink. I must add to the record."
And h? wrote in his her: ""lu May.
I?I7. the said De Gare:;: sailed to F.ughmd
on a trading voyage. .-. . : lhere in the :.:.:
ish of Ditchiughcm. in :: ; county of X r
ioit\. ::e muru, r-. v; ?.;....i i??iigue:(i.
?ken of above as Luisa de Garcia, lust us
in. to whom he was once hetrot?ad: In
undercover tif a false marriage, !;. d. <...;? i.
and deserted cue: Donn:: Isabella oj che
nobie fam.?Iv of Sk-ta-::;:::. a nun in rt r .
! l?g??us house in this cir v."
"What," I exclaimed, "is the giri who
came to >?vk your help two nights -ince
the sume that De Garcia desert^d?J?
'"Tile very same, nephew. 1: was sh?
whom yeuheard pleading .-with him last
night. Had I known 'two days ago what
I know today, hy now this villain had
been safe in prison. Bur perhaps ir is not
yet too larc. I a::; iii. but I will riseand
sec to ir. Leave ir to me. nephew. Go.
nurse yourself and leave ir to n.e. If any?
thing may he done. I car. do ir Stay, i id
a messenger he ready. This evening J.
: shall know whatever there is to ! e known."
! That" night Fonscca sent for mo again.
**I have made inquiries." he said. "L
? have even warned :he o?keis of justice
! for the firs: time for many year.-, and they
are hunting Garcia as bloodhounds
j hunt a slave. Bur nothing can Iv heard
j of him. He has vanished and left n.
i trace. Te?::ight I write :.. iadi.:. for 3^
i may have fie?: there down the riv; r. < ;n
thing I have discovered, how? ver. Tin S -
I nora LaU lIa was caught by the wa' !..
i and being recognized a? having es?v.pc?i
from a convent -he was handed over to
the exeeut ric- of the holy <?!]:.?>?. that h< r
?ease may !. investigated. < r. in <.'/:.<:.
words, slioiiid her fault le proved lo
d?at?i."
"Can slie he rc>e::.d: "
"Impossible. Had -I-.- followed ::\\
counsel she wot:Ul n?*ver have ?ve?: .alu :i. '
**Cai? she IK* commufiieat? d \v ".: h! "
**Xo. Twenty yea: - ago it mitrht ha vi
been managed Xow-the odin is stricter
and purer. Gold -has no power : lure. WV
slia?l never see or hoar ot her again un Uss
indeed it is at the hour of her death, when
should she ehexise tu speak with mo. ii.
indulgence may possibly be. grant?tl to h< r
though I doubt ir. But it is not likely
that she will wish to do so. Should she
succeed in hiding her disgrace, she may
escape, but itisiiot probable: Do not l?x>k
So sad. nephew; religion must have its
sacrifioes. Perchance it is Ix'ttor for her
to die tim.- than to live for many .years
dead in life. She can die but ?>nce. May
her blood lie heavy on !)<. (.an ia - head.'*'
"Amen!" I answered.
[TO BK CONTINUED.]
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