THE MYSTERY OF TRINITY CHURCH-YARD EXPLAINED AT LAST.
At the sight of Elijah Callister and his companion standing before him
with cocked pistols in their hands amid the shadows of the cellar,
Frank Mansfield sprang from the hole in which he stood.
Seizing the pick-ax, he advanced bravely toward the man who long had
been the persecutor of himself and his afflicted family, heedless of
the glittering muzzles of the revolvers pointed directly at his head.
Barney the Bootblack, Garibaldi and Sandy had meanwhile sought refuge
among the boxes and barrels, the little Italian making the cellar ring
again with his cries of fear.
"Shoot, if you dare, Elijah Callister!" cried Frank, with proudly
curling lip. "You helped to kill my father, you drove my mother mad.
Murder me, if you dare! There is justice for such as you. As God hears
me, it will descend swift and sure upon your sinful head."
"Be careful, Lije," whispered the man by his side. "There are three of
them--we can't kill them all. By Heaven! the lad is right, there has
been murder enough. Beside, he is my nephew, poor Helen's son, and I
say he shan't be killed!"
It was Reuben Tisdale, the burglar, the husband of the dead Mrs.
Marley, by whose hand that unfortunate creature came to her untimely
end in the little house in the rear of the Donegal Shades.
As he spoke these words, with one blow he struck the pistol from the
hands of Elijah Callister, his own hand falling to his side.
"Meddling fool!" cried the broker, fiercely, springing upon him. "The
treasure for which we have risked so much lies uncovered before us
at last, and now you would spoil it all! That boy must die or we are
ruined! I tell you he has been a spy upon us; he has----"
"Stop! He is my son, Elijah Callister, and he shall live! Harm one hair
of his head at the peril of your life!"
Through the dark passages of the cellar the words resounded.
Instantly there burst upon the scene a blaze of light.
It rested upon the boxes and barrels, it fell upon the cobweb-hung
beams overhead, and, glancing back, lit up the faces of Callister,
Tisdale and Frank with a strange, unearthly glare.
With a loud cry the bank burglar, heedless of the blow aimed at him by
his infuriated companion, sprang back.
"Lije! Lije! Look! look! It is Maria's ghost again!" he cried,
frantically, clapping his hands before his face to shut out the light
which met his gaze.
Before them standing by the side of the hole in which the buried
treasure lay hidden, was the form of the mysterious woman who had
played so stirring a part in this tale.
With one warning finger outstretched before her she glided forward and
placed her form in front of Frank.
"Go, vile wretches!" she fiercely cried. "Go and work evil no more to
me and mine! May Heaven's vengeance fall upon you both for your many
crimes."
For an instant Elijah Callister stood regarding her with set teeth and
eyes filled with snake-like glittering.
As he did so a mist seemed to rise before them, obscuring the woman and
the youth, who now held her clasped tightly in his arms, from view.
And the light increased.
Through the cellar a loud crackling noise was heard as the light
increased.
One glance behind him explained the sounds.
The rubbish which filled the cellar had burst out into a sheet of flame.
"It's all up with us, Rube, curses on your folly!" he whispered
fiercely, as, grasping by the collar the man who had crouched cowering
by his side, he dragged him toward the cellar stairs.
"Fire! Fire! Oh! missus! I've dropped the pan! and the hull business is
a-burnin' up!"
Out from among the burning rubbish sprang a frightened boy.
It was Jerry Buck, with every hair standing up in horror, his jacket
all ablaze.
"Take her through the window, boys!" cried Frank, springing toward the
fleeing men. "Save her and save yourselves while I deal with these
villains fate has thrown into my hands!"
He sprang toward Callister and seized him by the collar of his coat.
Too late!
With a sudden twist the stock-broker jerked himself free, and leaving
the coat in the hands of Frank, had followed Reuben Tisdale up the
cellar stairs.
To attempt to follow them was useless.
A wall of seething flames, bursting forth from the rubbish of years
accumulated beneath the stairs, now intervened.
Meanwhile, Barney and Sandy had assisted the woman through the open
window, gaining a place of safety without, while little Garibaldi was
bravely but vainly endeavoring to pull the burning jacket from the back
of Jerry Buck that he might be able to escape.
All attempt to follow Callister was useless.
Frank saw that at a glance.
"Let him go," he muttered. "Heaven will deal with him according to his
deserts. After all, I cannot harm him, for he is the father of the girl
I love."
He sprang toward Jerry, and wrapping the coat left in his hands by the
fleeing stock broker about him, thus smothering the flames, drew him
hastily through the cellar window, Garibaldi, the Italian, following
with all possible speed.
The mysterious woman, Barney and Sandy stood upon the snow covered
ground awaiting them.
With a low cry of joy the woman threw herself into Frank Mansfield's
arms.
"My son--my darling boy!" she cried, wildly kissing his cheeks and
stroking his hair. "Thank God I hold you in my arms once more! I have
sought to prove your innocence, and though I have so far failed, come
what will, we must not part again."
As she spoke these words behind the little group the roaring of the
flames increased.
From the window of the first floor of the old mansion they now burst
forth, illuminating the landscape for yards around.
"Mother, can this indeed be you?" cried Frank, gazing upon the worn
features of the woman in mingled astonishment and surprise.
"It is, my son. And did you think me dead?"
"I most certainly did. I left you beneath the church-yard wall
when--when I went into the bank. When I came out you were gone, and
next morning I saw that which I could have sworn was your dead body
lying in a house in Catherine street in the rear of a place they call
the Donegal Shades."
The woman smiled sadly.
"Listen, Frank," she said, with more calmness than she had before
displayed. "Listen to my story, to be told in a few brief words, and
you will understand this mystery which has been puzzling you for weeks."
Here Barney was seen to glance at Jerry Buck, who stood quietly by,
still wrapped in Mr. Callister's coat.
Neither spoke, however, and Frank stood breathlessly listening to what
his mother was about to tell.
"I escaped from the asylum where Mr. Callister had placed me," began
the unfortunate Mrs. Mansfield, "some weeks since as you know. I had
been mad, but was so no longer, although no one would believe me
when I told them so. My first care was to look for you, my son. With
sorrow I heard of your dissipation and wrong-doing, and knowing well
the interest Mr. Callister had at stake in leading you into crime, I
determined to watch over you in secret and save you if I could. But
this was after the time when, in desperation at what I had heard, I
attempted to commit suicide by jumping into the river, from which I was
rescued by this brave boy, known to you as Jerry Buck, but instantly
recognized by me as the outcast son of my unfortunate twin sister,
Maria Tisdale, the wife of that man who a moment ago stood in the
cellar of yonder burning house by Elijah Callister's side. Stop! Do not
interrupt me!" she exclaimed, seeing that Frank was about to speak. "A
crowd will gather here before many minutes. Before it comes we must be
far away. I knew the lad's features at a glance, and I told him who and
what I was. In return he took me to the home of the 'Bats' in the old
tomb beneath the church-yard wall.
"On the night of the bank robbery I followed you from the time you left
Mr. Callister's office until I spoke to you in the street by the side
of the fence which surrounds the grave-yard of Trinity Church.
"You would not heed my warning--you left me in the hands of those two
young ruffians while you entered the bank to do the wrong into which
you had been led by that young villain, Cutts, whom I knew to be a
thief and an associate of thieves.
"No sooner had you entered than Cutts sprang back, and joining the two
young men who had held me down, all three ran off down Rector street
and disappeared.
"Meanwhile I slipped across the street and crawled beneath an empty
truck, determined to follow you in secret the instant you appeared.
"There I found this good boy, Barney, who told me of the bank robbery
and just how it had occurred. He had with him the tin box, also,
which the burglars had dropped in the street. Examining the papers I
recognized your grandfather's will at a glance.
"This I left with Barney, with instructions to give it to you, while
I took the parchment myself, that by no combination of circumstances
might it be lost.
"It was by my directions that Barney rescued you and took you into the
vault, and when I knew you were safe I started to meet my unfortunate
sister, Mrs. Tisdale--who had long been suffering from insanity from
the brutal treatment of her husband--whom I had just succeeded in
finding upon the morning of the day in which these events occurred.
"At the corner of Rector street and Broadway I met Detective Hook.
"He followed me, but at Park Row and Frankfort street, seeing my
sister, who exactly resembled me, awaiting me, I slipped away while his
eyes were for the moment turned, and saw him following her in my stead."
"Then it was she who was murdered?" cried Frank, lost in wonder and
surprise.
"It was," replied Mrs. Mansfield, sadly. "Murdered beyond all doubt by
the husband who drove her mad and made her life a curse."
"And he's the man I'll hang, even if he is my father!" exclaimed Jerry
Buck, who, with whitened features and firmly-set teeth, had been
listening attentively to the woman's tale.
"See here," he added, stretching out his hand in which a bundle of
papers was grasped. "I've been looking at these 'ere while you two have
been talking, an' can read well enough to know that they'll give me the
grip on him an' his pal."
"Where did you find them?" cried Frank, eagerly.
He had seized the papers from Jerry Buck, and hastily examined them in
the light of the burning house from which the flames were now pouring,
illuminating the surrounding scene with the brightness of day.
They were small, but well-executed plans of the vaults of the Lispenard
Bank, all marked "duplicate," and bearing upon them Elijah Callister's
name.
"Where did I find them?" cried the boy. "Why, in the pocket of this
here coat to be sure. Come, we must take 'em to the chief of police.
If they ain't the fixin' of him what killed my mother an' the feller
what's runnin' you down to earth, why, it won't be for want of tryin'
on the part of the 'Bats in the Wall'--that's all I've got to say."