35 getting him out of your way. The deeper cause is my secret, and I intend to keep it. Good-night, Mr. Arnold; a pleasant ride to you, and there is the young moon to light your path. cannot longer delay my return to the Park." I Before he could arrest her, she gave her horse a quick cut and dashed off in a canter. Arnold looked after her for a moment, and then muttered: "It's a secret that I will have yet, Madame Anita." CHAPTER XXIII. HE steamer Mary Winter, on which Colonel Wentworth embarked, had been newly refitted, and such repairs made on her as were considered necessary to render her safe, though she was known to be an old boat which had seen hard service. Under other circum stances he would have hesitated to travel upon her at all, but in the present crisis there seemed no alternative. The temporary rise in the river would, he knew, soon be exhausted, and this was the only Southern steamer in port. The cabins were crowded to their utmost capacity of accommodation, and as much freight put on board as the stage of water would permit. A barge, laden with the remainder of the cargo, was lashed to the side of the boat, which was to be discharged at the mouth of the Ohio, where the deeper current of the Mississippi would enable the steamer to receive her on board. The two younger travelers were interested and amused with the species of Noah's ark which a Southern boat resembles after it gets its full complement of animate and inanimate freight. Half an hour before the steamer left, the captain, a fair, dapper-looking man, with a peculiarly white and shining skin, and a scanty supply of soft silky-looking yellow hair, stood in an insurance office with his policy in his hand. The gentleman who had given it to him said: "Your cargo must be a very valuable one, Captain Gaskill. I understand that you have insured in three offices at ten thousand dollars each." "You are quite right. One office would not take the whole risk, and as the boat is known not to be new, I was forced to pay an enormous premium; but the venture will be worth it. I calculate to make more than the amount of the insurance on this single trip." "What is to become of all that crowd of people?" asked Waters, indifferently. "It will be best to have the means of saving some of them, because their friends might become too indignant, you know, and accuse you of mismanagement and carelessness. which would materially lessen the profits of our trip." We might have something to pay as hush-money, Captain Gaskill made a contemptuous movement. "All that is easily settled, as is proved all the time by the way boatmen escape the consequences of their carelessness. I have not been on the river so long without knowing how to clear myself of every scrape I am likely to get into. There are boats enough to save two-thirds of the passengers; the others must take care of themselves the best way they can." "At what point will you cease to command your boat?'' "It will be safest to hold on till we are below Memphis. The accident cannot occur till all the freight is safe on board; and as the navigation between Memphis and Napoleon is difficult and dangerous, it will be best to wait till we reach that point." "It must happen before we reach Napoleon, because those I have sworn to get rid of shall perish with the old boat. The young man has crossed my path, and the elder one has insulted doing so; but I am not sufficiently interested in her to risk me. The girl I would save, if there was no danger to myself in anything on her account. These people expect to land a few miles above Napoleon, so you must order things accordingly." declare the game becomes exciting to me, when I think how Very well-we will arrange all the details at our leisure. I great a sum is at stake for us." 66 "And how completely we've blinded and swindled the insurproves how clever we are." ance officers. There is some pride and pleasure in that, for it "Yes; there's some credit in that; but there goes the neer's room will blow up the old craft before her time." whistle again, and we must hurry, or that fellow in the engi They were no sooner safe on board than the steamer slipped depth of water in the river, and passed the city with her flags from her moorings, made as wide a sweep as was safe with the flying, and a band of music playing "Hail Columbia" on her deck. On the fourth day they reached the point where the streams transfer the freight from the barge to the steamer. united, and stopped at the village of Cairo for several hours to On this day the sun shone bright and warm, and the crowd of lage. Dora and Arthur Clayton were among the promenaders, passengers were glad of the opportunity to walk about the viland after a long walk they stood once more upon the levee, laden with wild flowers and vines from the neighboring woodland. The chimney from a cottage below them almost puffed its smoke in their faces, and Arthur pointed to the town as he "That will indeed be a lucky stroke. The boat belongs to asked: you, I believe?'' "No; she was once mine, but I sold her last year. She is only chartered for the present trip." "And is she also insured?" "I believe not. The owner has confidence in my skill and luck, and he expects to see her safe in port here in a month from to-day." "I hope his expectations will be realized, as well as your own; for any accident to the Winter would lose us a pretty penny." "Never fear, sir. I know what I'm about, and always look sharp after number one. Good-afternoon." The smooth-looking captain bowed himself out, and walked about a square, when he was joined by Waters, who familiarly locked his arm in his, and the two proceeded in earnest conversation to the landing. "How would you like to burrow in such a place as that?" Dora cast a backward glance toward the lowlands beyond, with their rank forest growth, and said: Despond than anything I have ever seen." "And a Slough of Despond it is likely to prove to you," the half-sinking form of his daughter, and roughly drew her As Richard Wentworth thus spoke, he threw his arm around toward himself. Then turning to Arthur, he went on in a "You have arranged everything so as to defy detection?" tone of sarcastic bitterness: asked the gambler. "Trust me for that," was replied, with a chuckling laugh that sounded like the hiss of a serpent. "This will be a good haul, and a sure one. Who would suspect such a daring thing as this? Why, nothing like it has ever been attempted before, and we may well consider ourselves the Napoleons and Alexanders of our order. There is something magnificent in such villainy as we have imagined." Mr. Clayton, so I shall not choose my words very carefully. I "A hint, however strong, seems to be thrown away on you, command you, sir, never again to approach or speak to my daughter; if you do, it will be the worst day's work you ever did for yourself, for I shall know how to punish your defiance of my wishes." Clayton gazed in mute amazement on this unexpected apparition; for once safe beyond Louisville, he had not thought of again hearing from Wentworth before they reached the Cane Brake-a meeting he had intended to avoid by stopping at Napoleon until Colonel Wentworth had settled this unhappy family difficulty, and persuaded his brother to return to his own home. One glance at the bloated features and inflamed eyes of Dora's father convinced Arthur that in his present condition he would be more unmanageable than ever, for it was evident that he was strongly under the influence of liquor. He turned an anxious glance toward the steamer, in the hope that Colonel Wentworth might be in sight, and ready to interfere for the rescue of his niece. By a fortunate chance he had just stepped on board, and one of the firemen turned his attention to what was passing on the levee by saying, "What the thunder is that old chap up' "Take her to the boat, put her in the state-room, and keep a watch on it till I come." He lost no time in obeying, and before the palsied hand could grasp the pistol that lay against his breast, Richard saw the flying forms of the young pair enter the steamer and disappear. He literally foamed with rage, and appealed to the crowd that by this time had gathered around them to interfere and restore his daughter to him. In a few clear and distinct words, Colonel Wentworth set the facts before them, and, in confirmation of his statement, drew from his pocket-book the instrument executed by his brother years before, by which he bound himself to relinquish all future authority over Dora, in consideration of the accomplished yonder a-dragging that pretty girl away from the young man for, I wonder?'' He wheeled around, comprehended the scene at a glance, and dashing every obstacle out of his way, sprang up the bank, and before others could interfere, he stood in front of his brother. With a single effort of his powerful strength he struck the clasping arm of that rude father from the form of Dora, and drawing her to himself, said: education her uncle engaged to bestow upon her. After displaying this, he calmly said, "I have performed my part of the contract, and now my brother recedes from his. I simply ask you, gentlemen, to decide between us according to the equity of my claim." "I am a lawyer," said a gentlemanly-looking man, "and this document is too clear to be evaded. The right to retain the young lady clearly belongs to her uncle, though it seems "I thus claim my daughter, Dick, since it has come to a per- hard to take a man's child from him." sonal struggle as to which shall possess her." Before Wentworth could recover from the wrench his arm had sustained, his brother turned to Clayton, thrust the young girl's hand in his, and rapidly said: "It is hard, for she is my only one," said Wentworth. Colonel Wentworth decisively said: "I will defend my right with my life." As Wentworth was about to utter a furious reply, a man who had just reached the scene of action thrust himself through the | seek the means of clandestinely removing her from their procrowd, and whispered to him: tection. "Why did you act contrary to my counsel? Come on the boat with me, and I can help you to get your daughter back. I'll give you a berth up in Texas, and nobody need know that you're aboard." Waters was so skillfully disguised that Colonel Wentworth had no suspicion of his identity; and when Richard suffered himself to be led away by this worthy, he was at a loss to know who it could possibly be who had obtained such an influence over his irascible brother as to induce him to abandon the field to himself without further contest. Glad to be spared such a struggle on any terms, he hurried at once to the boat to look after Dora, whom he found in a state of tremulous excitement lest some fatal result had ensued from this unfortunate rencontre. He speedily reassured her, and soothed her fears with the assurance that she need fear nothing further from her father's violence. But Colonel Wentworth was far from trusting to the acquiescence of his brother; he informed Clayton of what had actually occurred, and they agreed that a constant guard must be kept on Dora to insure her safety, for neither had a doubt that her father would obtain a passage on the steamer at any risk, and Colonel Wentworth kept a strict watch on the passengers as they came on board, in the expectation of finding his brother among them, and dreading the renewal of the scenes he had already gone through with him; but when the boat left the landing and struck into the turbid current of the Mississippi, 1 Foot. ETRUSCAN VASE.-PAGE 43. he had seen nothing of him. Colonel Wentworth had often beheld the scenery of the river before, and, after a single glance upon it, he fixed his attention on the small cluster of state-rooms which are usually built on the deck of a Western steamer for the accommodation of the officers. While he looked, a curtain in front of one of the windows was partially lifted, and then suddenly dropped, but not before he had obtained a glimpse of two men, in one of whom he recognized his brother, and the other he couïd easily imagine was the man who had accosted him, and carried him off so suddenly. He readily comprehended that Richard had found concealment there while looking after his niece, and he felt assured in his own mind that the individual who had joined him possessed authority on the boat, or he could not have placed him in the apartments appropriated to the use of the officers. Cool and resolute, Colonel Wentworth felt certain that he could baffle every manoeuvre of the angry father and his confederate, and he returned to the cabin to place Clayton on his guard. It was agreed between them that one or the other should constantly remain near the door of Dora's state-room, which opened on the guards, that no ingress should be afforded there; and when night came, they should alternately pass the time in watching over her safety. These precautions revealed to the young girl that her father was on board, and she remained in a wretched state of trepidation lest some fatal outbreak should occur. Her two protectors did all in their power to reassure her; but they saw with concern that every unusual sound caused her to grow pale and tremble, and her uncle began seriously to apprehend that she would be seized with a nervous fever before reaching her destination. They at length came in sight of Memphis. Colonel Wentworth was surprised that before this time his brother had made no effort to get possession of his daughter; but Waters, with diabolical skill, had persuaded him to defer such an attempt until the boat reached Napoleon. That was a wild and newly-settled place, where he would find many men of desperate character who would readily aid him in recovering the young girl, if the prospect was held out to them of a sufficient reward to enable them to hold a carouse afterward. With difficulty Richard Wentworth curbed his fiery impatience, and remained in his concealment until the proper time arrived. Waters took care to supply him with liquor and cards, and the ruin of the desperate man was completely consummated long before they approached the proposed termination of their voyage. What he was to do after gaining possession of his daughter, how to return to the poor home on which another had now a better claim than himself, he would not inquire; but Waters had settled this in his own mind with his usual disregard of human life. He would give Wentworth a chance to escape, and, if possible, to rescue Dora with himself; but when he looked upon the trembling hands, and nervous unsteadiness of motion caused by recent dissipation, he had strong doubts as to his power to avail himself of such an opportunity. The fated steamer passed on her course, and gradually neared the point at which her fiend-like commander had decided that it would be best to put his terrible plan in execution. The night was clear and starlit, and the soft airs of the sunny South played upon the pale cheek of Dora, enticing her to sit until a late hour upon the guards, between her uncle and Arthur Clayton. It was nearly midnight when Miss Wentworth arose to enter her state-room, and her uncle said: "We are so near the end of our journey, my love, that we may reach my landing before morning. You had better hold yourself in readiness to get off at short warning, for these boats do not like to be delayed long at wayside places." the boat, where the trunks of the passengers were piled. Three men, with shaded lanterns, were busily engaged in rifling such of them of their most valuable contents as promised a reward for their trouble. Having quickly and efficiently dispatched this business-removing only jewelry and money where it had incautiously been left-they proceeded to make preparations for their own escape from the doomed craft. A small boat was lowered from the bow, and what they wished to save was placed in it; the oars were laid ready for instant use, and two of he men took their stations in it; the third, who was Waters, returned to arouse Richard Wentworth, and with his own hand set fire to the boat. As he passed the state-room of Colonel Wentworth, he threw a lighted match into a pile of light combustibles which had been placed there a few minutes before, and they instantly blazed up. He then ran up the staircase communicating with the deck, and as he passed, threw a second match into a similar pile. In another instant he stood beside Richard Wentworth, and shaking him violently, said: "Rouse up!-wake, I tell you! The boat is on fire, and now or never must you rescue your daughter. There is a skiff at the stern-rush for that-get her safe into it, and then we'll see if anybody takes her from you." Bewildered by this sudden address, the stupefied man sat up and looked helplessly at him. "What do you mean? What must I do?" "Get up, you stupid fool, if you do not want to get burned in your bed! There-there! the boat is a-blaze! Jump up! swing yourself down at the stern, and find your daughter, if you wish to save her from destruction !" By this time the boat was beginning to take fire rapidly, and long jets of flame surged upward from the blazing stairway over which Waters had so lately sprung. The light and thoroughly seasoned wood burned like chaff, and the incendiary began to be alarmed himself at the progress of the fire. Completely sobered by the imminent danger that threatened himself, Wentworth sprung up, already dressed, for he had held himself in readiness to attempt the rescue of his daughter on that night. As the two fled toward the stern, screams and cries were heard from below, while the appalling alarm of fire sounded through the midnight air. Waters, with the agility of a mountain cat, lowered himself from the deck, and Wentworth, more slowly, followed. By the time he had gained the guard below, he found it crowded with men, women and children, by whom frantic appeals for aid were uttered in such wild despairing tones as might have moved a heart of stone. Waters had disappeared, too busy in effecting his own escape to heed what became of the others. To do the miserable father justice, he now had but one hope, but one aim, and that was to rescue his child from the dreadful doom that menaced her. With frantic haste he crushed aside the frightened crowd that "I will be ready, uncle; but-but do you think we shall be would have impeded his progress, and after a delay that seemed permitted to leave unmolested?'' Colonel Wentworth cheerfully replied: "Do not alarm yourself, Dora. Matters have gone on so much more peacefully than I expected, that I trust we shall find no difficulty in our way. Sleep in peace, my child, and leave the management of your affairs to Mr. Clayton and myself." Dora crushed back the tears that were ready to gush from her eyes, and kissing him on the cheek in silence, gave her hand to Arthur to bid him good-night, for she could not trust herself to speak at that moment. Clayton took up his watch outside the door, declaring it to be impossible to sleep, and after some friendly altercation as to his own right to remain, Colonel Wentworth agreed to retire to his room, which was in the forward part of the cabin, on the condition that Arthur should call him in two hours, and endeavor to gain some repose himself. This settled, the young man leaned over the railing of the guard, and gave himself up to dreamy reverie as he watched the ripple and swell of the waters through which the steamer cut her steady way. to him an age, he succeeded in reaching the side on which Dora's state-room door opened. By this time the flames had enveloped the whole bow of the steamer, and were driven back in surging volumes of fire and stifling smoke as she drifted at the mercy of the current. Above was a sea of flame-below, the dark and turbid current against which human strength can rarely wrestle with any hope of escape from the counter currents which sweep everything that comes within their vortex to sudden and certain destruction. By this awful illumination, the father beheld his daughter standing beside the railing, half supported by the arm of Arthur Clayton, who firmly said: "It is our only chance, Dora-I am a strong swimmer. We must plunge in, dear girl; and this chair, which I will first cast over, will aid us to keep up till help comes.' "My father! my uncle! oh, where-where are they?" gasped the half-fainting girl. "It is too late now to ask. We must escape ourselves or perish in the flames. They are strong-they are capable of takIn the meantime a strange scene was enacting at the bow of ing care of themselves. Come with me, Dora-darling-pre cious one-angel of my life! let mine be the arm to save you, when she revives leave us alone. This is as good a time as any or let us sink together to destruction." Dora no longer resisted. That appeal went directly to her heart, and she threw her arm around his neck, as he lifted her to the railing, and in another moment they sprang into the flood, while a hand that was vainly outstretched clutched wildly at her dress, and then plunged madly after her. The boat went drifting down the stream a solid mass of flame, bearing with her many victims, and the wailing cries that arose from the surface of the river, proved that many more were struggling for life in the waste of water which offered so few chances of delivery to those who had been fortunate enough to escape from the burning wreck. A desolate shore, with high and caving banks, afforded little hope, and the only boat which had been left for the passengers had been swamped by the eager crowd that sprung upon her when she was first lowered in the water. CHAPTER XXIV. AYS and weeks passed on at Clayton Park, and Arnold heard nothing from his half-brother. On consulting the papers, he found an account of the terrible accident on the Mississippi, by which the steamer Mary Winter had been destroyed by fire, and many valuable lives lost. He finally came to the conclusion that Waters had been among the victims, and he was rather glad. That Arthur Clayton had also perished he earnestly hoped. December, with its chilling blasts and dreary weather, had set in. Miss Clayton and her chaperon sat in the library, through which an immense wood fire diffused its cheerful warmth, though it seemed to possess no power to brighten the spirits of either. Suddenly, the listless reverie of Miss Clayton was broken by the appearance of a dark object upon the snowy landscape, which was evidently approaching the house. As it drew nearer, a mounted horseman, muffled in furs and broadcloth, became visible, and her heart bounded and her cheek kindled as the thought came to her that Arnold had indeed braved the inclemency of the weather to visit her. She sat beside the window listening for the step of Arnold with a heart beating tumultuously. As the door opened, she turned her head, their eyes met, and the electric light that flashed from hers told him all he wished to know. In another instant her lips uttered a reproach at his long absence; but Arnold felt that the yearning desire for his presence alone had prompted it. Passing his mother with a low bow and a significant glance, he advanced at once to Otelia, and clasping her readily extended hand, said: "You will pardon my delay, sweet coz, when I tell you that I have been endeavoring to authenticate a rumor which is of deep interest to you. "What is it?" she asked, almost with indifference. are safe beside me. What is this rumor, Mr. Arnold?" "It concerns one you once-had an affection for." She sunk back, and faintly asked: "What of Arthur? Has anything happened to him?" "You "You are the last of the Claytons," replied Arnold, impressively, as he took her hand tenderly in his own, and would have carried it to his lips; but she sprang up with a cry so piercing that he listened with a thrill of terror. Mrs. Arnold had discreetly left the room, but at the sound of the shriek she came hurriedly back, and inquired what had happened. 'Nothing but a sudden shock," replied her son. "Arthur Clayton is dead-lost on a burnt steamer on the Mississippi, and I told her too suddenly. Throw some water over her face, and for me to make sure of my ground." These words were uttered in a guarded tone, as he held the form of the insensible girl clasped to his breast. Mrs. Arnold glided out, and carefully closed the door. As she did so Otelia unclosed her eyes, and said: "What was that—what did you say? Am I left alone-alone the last of my race?" "It is true that you are the last of your name, Otelia; but you are far from being alone, when a heart so faithful as mine beats for you." She buried her face upon his breast, and faintly murmured: "No-no-no; you mistake; you do not comprehend my feelings toward my cousin. I love him not. I—” Arnold bent over her, and softly said: "Look into my eyes, and let me read in the depths of yours the secret I so yearningly desire to know." He lifted her head, and she murmured: "I never loved Arthur, though I once thought so. alone-you are my first, last, only love." You-you Pretty well for the haughty Miss Clayton," was the exulting thought that swept through Arnold's brain, as he pressed his lips to those which had uttered this passionate admission. Her companion judiciously permitted her emotion to have full sway before he again spoke; then he gently said: "This grief is natural, my sweet love, for your cousin's untimely fate." He then proceeded to give her his own version of the catas trophe. "And is there really no doubt about it? Those lists are sometimes incorrect. Oh, I would give much to know that— that" She paused, and presently added in a faint tone: "I am not well. Pray call ma mère. I will join you again at tea.." Anita was summoned, but Arnold himself conducted Otelia to the door of her apartment. In a strange conflict of joy and sorrow, the young girl threw herself upon the bed, and made no reply to the anxious questions of the nurse beyond saying: "Let me alone, ma mère. Oh! my poor heart! Its very joy condemns me! Go away, ma mère, go away. I wish to be entirely alone." Thus dismissed, Anita lowered the curtains, replenished the fire, and quietly went out, certain that Arnold had received the confirmation of Arthur's death, for which they had so anxiously looked. With feelings of unmingled exultation she watched an opportunity of communicating with him, but for the present he was engaged with his mother, who joined him in the library as soon as he returned to it. She laughed, as she said: "Really, The, I begin to think your vanity is pardonable, for you have made the imperious Miss Clayton as meek and loving as the best little sheep to be found among the feminine nonentities most men think so charming. You have won her consent to marry you, of course." "I have obtained what is quite as significant-an acknowledgment of undying love from lips that trembled as they uttered it." 66 Cleverly done, upon my word. And how much longer is my penance to last?" "Don't be in too great a hurry to end the farce, ma'am, for the play is not played out yet." "Indeed! what new act is the curtain to rise on next?" "Listen, madame, to the programme, and don't spoil my plans by forgetting your part. I have such confirmation of Arthur Clayton's death as leads me to believe it is true. I had some lingering doubts as to the validity of Otelia's claim to the property as long as he was in existence; that is settled by getting him out of the way, and I will make matters sure by marrying the heiress at once." "What! before the first period of her mourning for her father has expired? Be sure she will never consent to that." "You predicted failure once before, madame, and I have showed you that with me there is no such word. Otelia loves me. When the year of mourning has expired I will guarantee |