"Why should they have given 'her' the name which was on the locket? and
who was the mysterious female that never had learned of the tragical
circumstance?" said Maud, with a puzzled face.
"I am unable to answer your question, Maud," Clifford replied; but there
was something in his manner that led the sharp-eyed couple before him to
suspect he had detected some clue which had eluded them in their
investigations of the mystery.
"Cliff, what the deuce was that old skull doing in the cask?" said Rob,
innocently; but, seeing the look of amusement on his brother's face, he
added: "Or I mean to ask, how came it there?"
"To answer your first question I shall have to remind you that a dead
man's skull has a very limited field of action, confined principally to
the pastime of rolling over and rattling its teeth when touched; but how
or why it was there, seems only known to the ill-natured ophidian which
kept it such close company," Clifford replied, with his usual strain of
jocular sarcasm.
"Oh dear!" said Maud, drearily, while drumming on the misty window-pane.
"It is very exasperating to be shut up in a house on such a day, where
every closet is full of skeletons, and not dare to peep into one of
them," she added.
"But Cliff has been peeping, and with wonderful luck, too," Rob
observed, dryly.
"Oh, I am not the first fortune hunter who has found a skull or serpent
where he had hoped to find gold!" Clifford replied, with perfect good
nature.
"Oh, Clifford, I shudder to think of the danger you passed through on
that terrible night--all alone in that dismal place, fighting that
venomous monster, with death in its fangs, while the gray-robed demon
hovered near with its fiery eyes and blood-chilling scream," said Maud,
tearfully, while winding her arm about her brother's neck.
"Now, dear, soft-hearted Maud, you must remember that the path of those
who strive for pelf is thickly beset by demons and serpents, although
they may wear the human guise and lurk in the shadow of friendship.
Many, many are the skeletons of dead hopes and buried dreams that start
up as the graves of the past are disturbed," Clifford replied.
"But you shall never spend another night alone up at that ill-omened
dwelling, Clifford; for Rob shall go with you hereafter," she said,
while drying her tears.
"Well, but suppose I might choose some fair lady to grace my
spectre-haunted home--that would answer as well?" he replied, gaily.
"Oh! that would be a capital plan indeed; but I shall insist on the
right to choose her," his sister cried, with returning animation.
"Oh! you are growing very liberal, to say the least, Miss Maud. I guess
you will have to be satisfied with second choice," said Cliff.
After talking awhile over the mystery which had woven such a tangled web
about their home in the last few days, Maud exclaimed:--
"Robbie, dear, won't you go and ask father what name was engraved on the
locket? Also learn all that is possible, for I am just dying of
anxiety;" but as he began to smile with derision, she added, coaxingly:
"Now do go, Rob, please; that's a man; father never refuses you
anything."
"Catch me at it!" cried Rob, with a shrug. "I don't hanker much after
the dry job of pumping the colonel," he added, winking at Clifford
significantly.
"No, no, Maud, that would never do. Let us await the confidence of our
parents, and try, in the meantime, to pick up what facts we can. Who
knows," he added, "but we may stumble on to some great discovery?"
Little, indeed, did he suspect the great revelations which the day held
in store for them, and that events were about to transpire which would
change the tenor of their whole lives.
At Mrs. Warlow's entrance the conversation took on a less sombre hue,
and when she told of the news confirming the great land-sale which was
soon to be held at the land office--a fact which she had learned from
the Estills--it was proposed to take a drive out over the country
north-east, and find a section for Maud and Rob, which the colonel would
buy for their benefit at the sale.
Accordingly, after dinner, as the weather had cleared, the Warlow family
drove out and viewed a well-watered, rolling tract, equal in extent to
the farms of the colonel and Clifford. After an hour spent thus, it was
thought advisable to drive on westward and examine a country which, in
their busy farm-life, had never been viewed, save at a distance.
On arriving at a point about three miles west of their home, they drove
down into a narrow valley or glen, clothed with tall blue-stem and rank
sunflowers, now beginning to unfold their golden blossoms. This jungle
of vegetation was woven together by the slender, leafless tendrils of
the love-vine, which threw a veil of coppery red over the brilliant
green of the other vegetation.
While driving slowly through this almost impervious mass of vegetation,
they discovered a winding but well-beaten trail or pathway, leading on
down the valley, and which, out of pure curiosity, they followed until
it disappeared in a thicket of plum-trees at the base of a low cliff of
magnesian limestone.
As they paused at the scrubby grove, wondering what could have made the
path, Clifford sprang out of the carriage, saying he would like to
investigate the matter, and disappeared among the trees. He was gone so
long that, after they had called him repeatedly, Rob was on the point of
starting in search, when Clifford reappeared. As he sprang into the
carriage their questioning was forestalled by his saying that the path
was possibly made by wolves, and that he had been examining the cliff,
but had not succeeded in finding their den.
He appeared so pale and agitated, however, that Maud regarded him
suspiciously; and when the horses flew up the glen along the winding
pathway and through tangled thickets of blue-stem and sunflowers, she
managed to ask in a whisper:--
"What have you discovered, Cliff?"
"A clue to the old mystery--but wait," he whispered in reply; and in
silence they drove rapidly back to the Warlow homestead.
As the boys were leading the horses into the barn, Maud called for them
to assist her in nailing up some of the lattice which the wind had
shaken down in her arbor; and when they joined her a few minutes later
in the vine-clad bower, she cried in a low, eager tone:--
"Clifford--Clifford! what did you see in that thicket?"
"Yes, out with it--quick!" said Rob; "for I know by your looks that you
saw something queer up there."
"The pathway," said Clifford, hurriedly, "plunged into the thicket of
plums; then, after winding about in a mazy labyrinth, it led up to the
base of a low cliff of limestone, and there ended so abruptly that I was
puzzled to know what to make of it, but noticing that the heavy festoon
of grapevines that hung down from the soil above, looked as if they had
been disturbed, I hastily drew them aside. Imagine my surprise when a
rough door was revealed, hung in the face of the cliff. Drawing it
open, there was disclosed a low cell or cavern, which had been partly
carved out of the soft magnesian limestone. Peering into the room, I
became satisfied that it was empty of human occupants.
"The room was not more than a dozen feet square, the little furniture
which it contained being dilapidated beyond description. As I stepped
into the room to examine things more closely, the fact became very plain
that some one had occupied it recently, for the mouldy couch still
showed the imprint of a human form.
"Some broken utensils stood about on the hearth, where a fire-place had
been hewn out of the soft rock. The ashes and charred wood, the bones of
fish and birds, scattered about on the floor, confirmed the fact that it
was used, in a desultory manner, as a habitation.
"I was turning to leave, thinking perhaps that I had invaded the private
dwelling of some squatter, when my attention was arrested by seeing a
vial half concealed in a cleft in the rocky wall. Inly wondering why any
one should wish to conceal such a trifle, I drew it forth, rubbing the
grime and dust from it as I did so.
"What was my surprise to see that there was a paper within. In eager
haste I uncorked the bottle and drew out this document," said he,
holding up with trembling hands a sheet that was discolored with age and
blotted with mildew, but covered closely with writing, still faintly
legible. "I had only time to glance at the startling title when I heard
your voices calling, so I closed the door, drew the vines carefully
over the entrance, and joined you, feeling like one in a dream.
"Now let's hasten," he said, "and read this document, which will, I
believe, unveil the mystery of Bruce and Ivarene." Then, unrolling the
time-worn paper again, with bated breath and loudly beating heart, he
read aloud as follows:--
SEPTEMBER 14, 1849,
"NEAR THE STONE CORRAL, ON THE SANTA FE TRAIL.
"This is written by Ivarene Walraven, late of the City of Mexico,
who offers prayers that it may fall into hands of kindness, who
will convey to my kinsman, Herr Von Brunn, of Vera Cruz--to him
this missive, full of grief and misfortune.
"We were attacked by savages on the night of August 22d, our
servants slain, our wealth all gone, and our kind and tender
friend, Senor Warlow, murdered. Bruce, my noble husband, he did me
wrap within the folds of a serape, and dashed away out on the dark
prairie with me in his arms, far, far away from the noise of murder
and savagery. He watched by my side in the tall grass all that day
next come; for I was ill to death's gate.
"Then, near eventide, there came to us a hunter strange, who said
he slay the bison-flesh for trailers by, and beg we go to his
hidden cell in a cliffy rock. His evil eyes I much mistrust; but he
seem friendly be, and food prepare for us when there we go. On
morning rise my babe is born--a daughter sweet--and darling Bruce
he tenderly nurses me while the hunter watches near the trail for
wagons go by; but day by day nothing sees he; then Bruce he say,
'I shall go myself to-morrow day.' The hunter frown when this he
say. That morning, as the hunter go, he say, with cunning smile: 'A
flask of wine for senora and senor.' Then leaves he it and go away
as at all time. When him had disappeared, I scent a strangeness in
the flask, and Bruce poured out a larger part; then broke he the
glassen flask upon the floor. When a cup he bring, and say: 'What
is the scent of this wine he gave?' I perceive the deadly loco's
odor there, and say it poison is; it drives them mad for evermore.
Bruce he frown, and meat and drink prepare; and when the hunter he
return he say: 'The flask is broken all! give us wine some more.'
But the hunter rudely began the meat to eat, waiting not at all.
After him did partake in his rude way of the food he threw his coat
by; then sat he strangely still awhile. Sprang he at length to his
feet with loud shriek and cry, then rushed away into the night.
'Ah! the wine I put into his food is poison be,' Bruce he say while
bar the door. In the hunter's coat we find a little book for
writing some, and one leaf did have these letter writ:--
* * * * *
"'EAGLE BEAK,--Take all the braves to Pawnee Rock, and there I will
go soon. Several jugs of wine are ready for you to take along; but
do not let them taste until there; I have put deadly loco in the
wine, which will kill them all, or drive them mad; so there will be
the less to share the cask of gold--'
* * * * *
"Then it was left unfinished, and another leaf had been torn--some
out.
* * * * *
"SEPTEMBER 15th.
"I shall write it more for Bruce; he go to the trail to watch for
travelers go. I am all by me, and my blue-eyed, dark-haired
daughter here, with barred door I am much secured; but lonely so
for darling Bruce.
"I try so hard to plainly use this English tongue, but strange it
seems. My baby dear I deck with my mother's locket, where is the
picture of dear Bruce and me--my dear mother's name on it: Morelia.
Oh, time is lonely now while Bruce away. I will lay this aside, its
vial in, and will write it again after I unbar the door and watch
for him."