the vehicle alike covered thickly with a coating of white. In this
conveyance our hero, with the utmost solicitude, disposed the young
lady, and at the same time ordered that the portmanteau should be
deposited upon the front seat. Having thereupon distributed a liberal
gratuity to those who had assisted him, he himself immediately entered,
and closed the door; and instantly the driver cracked his whip, and
the coach whirled away, with scarcely a sound, upon the muffled and
velvet-like covering of the street, directing its course through the
continually falling clouds of whiteness.
Nor could Griscombe so far penetrate the obscurity of the thickly
falling snow as at all to tell whither they were being conveyed.
Several corners were turned and a number of streets were traversed,
the lamps whereof were entirely unable to pierce the falling clouds
of snow so as to declare the locality toward which the coach was being
driven.
At length, however, after a rather protracted journeying, and to our
hero's considerable relief, the carriage stopped at the sidewalk before
a large and imposing edifice, altogether unlighted and as black as
night. No other building was immediately near; and the mansion stood
altogether alone, looking down upon the street in solitary state.
Almost instantly upon the arrival of the coach a number of servants
appeared upon the sidewalk, as though they had been waiting in
expectation of the coming of the travellers. Some of these opened the
door of the conveyance, and assisted the young lady and our hero to
alight; others took charge of the portmanteau, which they proceeded
immediately to carry into the house; others, again, stood about as
though waiting in attendance upon the new arrivals.
All these attentions were preferred with a singular assiduity and in
such entire silence that Griscombe knew not whether most to admire the
imposing extent of M. de Troinville's household or the extraordinary
training of his attendants. Turning to one who appeared to be the upper
servant, our hero commanded that the portmanteau be conveyed to some
place of safety unopened, and carefully guarded, and that he himself
be immediately conducted to M. de Troinville for a private interview
concerning business of the utmost importance. In reply the man to
whom he spoke delivered an order in a foreign tongue, which Griscombe
was entirely unable to understand, whereupon two attendants, as in
obedience to his command, conducted him and the young lady up the
steps and into a wide and imposing hallway, the front door whereof was
instantly shut upon them.
It was but little wonder that Griscombe and Miss Desmond should have
stood gazing about them altogether at a loss to understand in what
manner of place they had arrived. For, however much they might have
been surprised at any eccentricity of a French gentleman living
entirely alone in bachelor quarters, what they beheld was the very last
thing they might have expected.
The faint yellow light of a single lamp, suspended from the lofty
ceiling by a chain, diffused a dim illumination throughout the space,
and by its yellow glow Griscombe discovered, with no little surprise,
that the hall was altogether unfurnished. Not a fragment of carpet lay
upon the floor, not a chair, not a stick of furniture, relieved the
bleak and barren space of wainscot about them; but all was a perfectly
empty and barren desolation.
And, what was still more remarkable, the numerous attendants that had
just before surrounded them and had introduced them into the house
had disappeared as if by magic; and a dead and solemn silence reigned
throughout the entire edifice, broken only by a single distant voice
that, in a monotonous sing-song, inexpressive intonation, continued for
a time a level discourse, which at last sank abruptly into an entire
silence.
There was something so ominous and threatening in all the
unexpectedness of these things that Griscombe felt his spirits becoming
overshadowed by an overmastering sense of impending evil. It was only
when he discovered that Miss Desmond was becoming perturbed by a
similar emotion of dismay, and that she was clinging to him with an
exceeding tenacity, that, by an effort of will, he overmastered his
accumulating fears, and, in spite of the cloud of apprehension that
threatened to overshadow him, regained command of his courage once more.
"What does this mean!" exclaimed Miss Desmond in a hurried and
terrified whisper. "What strange place is this to which we have been
brought?"
"Have courage," replied our hero, steadily, but in the same subdued
tone. "You are in no danger. We have probably come to the wrong house,
that is all. Wait but a little while, and all will be explained." But,
though our hero spoke with so much courage, his heart was exceedingly
burdened with a sense of impending calamity; for he seemed to feel the
network of circumstances that had been gathering about him for these
few days past enwrapping both him and his ward in ever tightening
meshes.
At that instant the figure of a man appeared emerging suddenly from out
the gloom. He was tall and thin, and was clad in a long flowing robe
of Oriental design. Desiring Griscombe and the young lady to follow
him, and without waiting for any question or refusal, he turned, and
immediately led the way up a broad uncarpeted stairway to the floor
above.
Here a narrow thread of light outlined a door opening upon the landing,
as though emitted from a considerable illumination within. This door,
as they approached it, was suddenly flung open; and the next moment
our hero found himself with his companion in an apartment flooded with
such a dazzling brilliancy that, coming as he had from the obscurity
without, he was for a time entirely blinded by the unusual radiance.
Little by little, however, his sight returned to him; and he discovered
that he and the young lady were in a room of extraordinary dimensions,
suffused with an oppressive warmth, heavy with perfume, and flaming
with a thousand radiant and variegated colors. Surrounding him and
his companion on all sides was a multitude of attendants of a foreign
aspect, all clad in extraordinarily rich and sumptuous costumes of an
Oriental pattern.
Immediately upon his appearance with the young lady hanging upon his
arm, this crowd of attendants parted, forming, as it were, a vista
through which our hero and his companion could behold the farther
extremity of the saloon.
It was thus that Griscombe first beheld him who, his instinct instantly
told him, was the spider who had woven all this web of mystery in which
he had become so singularly entangled.
What he beheld was a little yellow man with a flat, fat face and black
and brilliant eyes. He had composed himself cross-legged upon a divan
of crimson silk, surrounded by luxurious cushions of embroidered
patterns, and sheltered by crimson silk curtains resplendent with
gold, which hung suspended from the walls behind him. His figure was
almost entirely enveloped by a purple velvet robe, thickly studded
with jewels and ornamented in arabesque designs with seed pearls and
gold. Upon his nether parts were a pair of crimson velvet trousers,
and upon his head was a large and voluminous turban, enriched with a
single diamond of excessive magnitude and brilliancy, which glowed in
the centre of the folds of the head-dress like a star of inconceivable
size and brightness. In his hand, brilliant with a multitude of rings,
he held the mouth-piece of the long and snake-like water-pipe, the
smoke from which he inhaled with every appearance of entire enjoyment
and satisfaction, emitting it now and then in a thin cloud, which
immediately dissolved in the heavy and perfumed air. His face was
devoid of all expression, and he regarded Griscombe and the young lady
with an impassivity of countenance that was in some inexplicable way
infinitely ominous.
Upon one side of this figure stood he with whom Griscombe had once
played jack-straws, and upon the other side the old gentleman with
the white beard whom he had indulged in the game of tit-tat-toe. Both
men were now clad in Oriental garb, far more appropriate to their
appearance than the garments of civilization in which our hero had
first beheld them. Near at hand, as though standing upon guard, were a
half-dozen or more negroes clad entirely in black, and each armed with
a naked scimitar, the blades whereof shone now and then like lightning
in the dazzling light of the thousand waxen tapers that illuminated the
expanse of the apartment.
A long carpet of extreme richness extended the length of the
apartment; and upon the floor, in front of the central figure of
all this remarkable and terrifying apparition of Oriental splendor,
reposed the fatal portmanteau that Griscombe had conveyed with such
extraordinary pains from Bordentown.
At sight of this object it seemed to our hero that all that which
before had appeared so inexplicable became instantly entirely clear,
and it was as though his very vitals dissolved with the fear of that
which might in a moment befall the innocent ward confided to his care.
All this while he had been half supporting her, with his arm thrown
protectingly around her; while she, upon her part, clung to him with
all the tenacity of a growing and overwhelming terror. It was at this
juncture that of a sudden he felt her form relax and her clasp upon him
to weaken. As he gazed down into her face, he became instantly aware,
by the excessive pallor of her countenance, her upturned eyes, and her
closing eyelids, that, either because of the excessive heat of the
room or because of the overpowering perfume, or because of the growing
terror which had entirely penetrated her heart, or on account of all
these causes combined, she had fallen into a swoon that more nearly
resembled death than unconsciousness.
Looking about him, he perceived near at hand a sofa of rich brocade,
covered with a multitude of soft and luxurious pillows. Upon this he
laid the inanimate form so dear to him, and then, rendered bold by the
desperateness of her situation, turned, and walked directly up the
length of the room to where that ominous figure sat amidst its cushions.
"Sir," he cried, "I more than suspect who you are, and what are the
sinister purposes you have accomplished. I may even, indeed, guess
somewhat of your present designs. I demand, however, to know for
certain what now are your intentions toward this young lady and myself.
Do not forget that we are in the town of New York, and that a single
call from a window may bring me help at any moment."
To this address the being to whom it was delivered made no other reply
than to issue by a gesture, and without moving the mouthpiece of the
pipe from his lips, a brief command to a gigantic black, who stood near
at hand. As in reply, the negro advanced to the portmanteau, and with a
single movement opened it and displayed the contents to his master.
Griscombe had already taught himself what to expect concerning the
melancholy contents thereof; but, now that he looked down upon it in
reality, he again experienced that singular and volatile expansion
of his brain, and again his every nerve tingled with the shock which it
received.
[Illustration: "_THE NEGRO ADVANCED TO THE PORTMANTEAU ... AND
DISPLAYED THE CONTENTS TO HIS MASTER_"]
This time not one, but two waxen faces--so exactly alike that they
might have been cast in the same mould--reposed side by side, smiling
in sphinx-like silence upon their bed of snowy lamb's wool.
And, as before, the jewels about which the brothers had once been
so anxiously concerned were scattered as in mockery in a shower of
sparkling and variegated brilliancy upon the immobile lineaments within.
"It is accomplished," said a calm and dispassionate voice; "and it is
well."
Then, directing his words to Griscombe, the speaker continued! "You
have been the instrument of fate, and you have performed your part with
admirable exactitude. Ask what return you desire, and it is yours."
At these words a sudden inspiration, as it were, seized upon Griscombe.
"Who you are and what you are," he cried, "I do not know, nor do I ask
aught of you but one thing: it is that I be allowed to convey the young
lady yonder in safety from this terrible place."
A moment or two of silence followed this, and then the same
dispassionate voice resumed its speech. "I had intended," said the
speaker, calmly, "a different fate for her. But be it as you will: she
is yours. One thing only I demand of you. It is that you deliver to me
the letter of instruction that her father wrote to M. de Troinville.
Give me that, and take the girl. The coach that brought you hither,
still waits below. It will transport you whithersoever you may order.
You have entirely served my ends, and now you are free to go."
Upon the instant a remote clock struck the hour of twelve; and, as in
echo, the chimes of Trinity Church began ringing at no great distance,
heralding for Griscombe the most extraordinary Christmas Day that was,
perhaps, ever experienced by any person in the United States before or
since.
* * * * *
So concludes this part of our narrative, with this to add,--that
Griscombe conveyed that precious charge, whom he had rescued from a
dreadful and mysterious fate, to the City Hotel, where, declaring
that she was a traveller who had been taken with a sudden illness, he
confided her to the care of the worthy hostess of that excellent and
well-known hostelry.
Furthermore, it may be added that the next day he with some difficulty
discovered the residence of M. de Troinville, to whom he recounted
such portions of his adventures as he deemed necessary, and whom
he requested to take charge of Miss Desmond. As, however, he had
neither credentials to show nor any proof to offer of the truth of his
statements; as, moreover, the treasure with which he had been charged
had entirely disappeared,--M. de Troinville either disbelieved or
pretended to disbelieve the whole story. He declared that Griscombe
was either a dupe or himself an impostor, and he ended by bidding him
to leave the house, which command our hero obeyed, consumed with an
overwhelming indignation.
HERE FOLLOWS THE CONCLUSION
CONCLUSION
The casual and flippant reader will no doubt be entirely inclined to
ridicule the possibility of events like these herein narrated occurring
in such unexpected localities as New York, Bordentown, or Newark; and,
if he reads the story at all, he will do so merely for the sake of
amusement and of entertainment, and not for the purpose of seriously
digesting its morals.
The more serious, however, will weigh well what he has read, and will
not be inclined to disbelieve that which has been so soberly narrated,
even though it cause him some surprise that such things should have
occurred in the midst of sedate American towns.
For the benefit of the former and lighter class of readers it may be
added to the above account that Griscombe undertook the guardianship
of Miss Desmond without the least reluctance in the world; that little
by little he gradually unfolded to her such parts of her own unhappy
situation as he deemed it necessary for her to be made acquainted with;
and that, after a sufficient time had elapsed, he proposed to her that
she should give him the entire right to become her protector.
Having in such a little while earned eight thousand dollars in fees
from four clients, our hero embarked upon his married life with all
possible satisfaction and happiness; and, when in 1850 he discovered
himself to be at the head of the New York bar, no one would have
supposed that so serious and moderate a gentle-man could ever have
passed through a series of such remarkable occurrences as those herein
related.
THE END
* * * * *
PRINTED BY GEO. H. ELLIS
AT 272 CONGRESS STREET
BOSTON, FOR RICHARD
G. BADGER & CO., PUBLISHERS
BOSTON
* * * * *