Democratic Sentinel, Volume 14, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 November 1890 — Dr Elfenstein's Mission [ARTICLE]

Dr Elfenstein's Mission

A Remarkable Romance.

BY EMILY THORNTON.

CHAPTER I. A STRANGE SUMMONS. In his unusually pleasant office on Broadway sat Lemuel Gray, a middleaged mau and succesful lawyer, in deep thought. In his hand lie held a letter, which, after a few moments, he again carefully read. As it refers to people and events to ba mentioned often in the remarkable story about to be related, we give the contents entire: Yonkers, April la, 1880. Mr. Lemuel Gray: Dear Sir —lt is with great difficulty that I pen the following, being very ill, but as the object 1 have in view by thus addressing you, is of great importance, 1 will wiite in as few words as possible. You are aware, being my confidential adviser, that I expected to sail for E.irope shortly, tn order to attempt to unravel the mystery sunoundingtlie deatli of Sir Arthur Glendenning, In wiicse fate 1 am so deeply Interested. I wished to vist. in some disguise, the town where Glendenning Hall is situated, to become acquainted with the pre-ent baronet and Lady Constance, his wife, with the nephew and niece residing with them, and to learn something, if possible, about the only sister who married without lliu consent of her family, and who, therefore, was disowned by her relatives, as well as a young girl whom it was said they had adopted. I desired, also, to make inquiries in regard to tlte private character of Antoine Duval, the valet of the present Sir Reginald Glendenning. and to study everything that might bear upon the mystery of the case. I regret to say that my physician declares it impossible tor me to undertake, with safety, tills journey. What do you think of my sending thither u substitute? 1 have in mind a young physician, Dr. Earle Elfensteiu, who resides in your city. I cannot tell you his address, us he moved to a new residence last May. 1 write to ask you to hunt him up for me. Please make a few inquiries us to his circumstances, disposition, and above all, whether lie is an energetic and conscientious man. Inform me in regard to these matters at an early date. If favorable, and the plan meets your approval, set a time when you ca*i meet him at my residence and explain to him the peculiar mission I wisli him to undertake in my behalf. Your presence will be absolutely necessary, as the disease with which 1 am afilicte.l forbids my entering Into the long explanations that must be given in order to instruct him in the performance of the work, should lie agree to undertake it. Please attend to this at once and oblige, yours, etc., Leon Rappelye. To this, a few hours later, the followiug reply was penned; New York, April 16, 1886. Mr. Leon Kappelye; Dear Sir —Fpon the receipt of yours of the 15th, I examined the “City Directory” without delay. I find Dr. Elfensteiu's address to be 47 Exton street. Going at once to the neighborhood, I learned from a reliable source that the young man lias a very small practice- therefore. finds it difficult to support his widowed mother and himself in comfort. This state of his finances is not due to lack of energy, for he is indefatigable in hia efforts to benefit ills patients, hut those who apply to him for advice are, unfortunately, the very poor iu the reglou of his home. He is an exceedingly conscientious and good man, and, from all I can learn, just tiie one to undertake the Important business which you propose, and which 1 fully approve. 1 will meet him at your residence on the the evening of the 18th. It would be well to send him a telegram to that effect as soon as you receive this. Yours sincerely, Lemuel Gray. It was a dull and dreary picture that the eyes of Dr. Earle Elfensteiu rested upon, as he drew back the laeo curtains that draped the parlor window of his co.‘:y home. •*. Ills practice was not large, and far from lucrative. Times were unusually hard, and his bills for services rendered poorly paid, so that he had, indeed, a hard struggle to live. This afternoon he was peculiarly cast down, for his mother (who, since his father’s death four years before, had been obliged to look to him for support) had reminded him that the month’s rent for the flat in which they resided would be due in three days, and he knew lie had not one quarter of the amount required, nor much faith in his ability to collect o«e of the many bills due. It is no wonder, then, that a sigh escaped him, as he turned to greet the sweet-looking lady about fifty years of age, who entered the room, holding an envelope in her hand. “Here is a -.telegram for you, Earle. What can it be?” "I cannot say, as I expected none,” he replied, opening the missive. “This is singular. lam requested to leave the city by the 8 p. m. train for Yonkers, to ! see a gentleman, who is an invalid, on a matter of business. His name is Leon Rappelye, a strange name to me.” “What, shall you do about it?” asked the mother, anxiously.

“I shall go, of course. The message says, ‘you will be met at the station.’ I have just about time to answer a call and meet the train.” “What time shall yon return?” “It will be late, I know; perhaps not until morning, but if possible 1 will return to-night. Good-by. little mother. Who knows but this will bring better things for ns. ” Later, closely protected by a comfortable ulster from the heavy rain that was falling, with a train of serious thoughts in his iniud, occasioned by his poverty. Dr. Effenstein wended his way to the Grand Central Depot, and entered the cars that would bear him to his destination. On dashed the train through the darkness. On, on, and still the young physician brooded over bis troubles, with eyes fixed on the blackness without. Thus he sat, lost in thought, until the whistle blew for the approaching station, and the brakeman, opening the door, called, in a loud voice: “Yonkers, Yonkers!” CHAPTER IL MR. LEON RAPPELYE. The rain was falling in torrents as the train came thundering to the. station, and upon stopping, the usual crowd hurried out, and passing through the wait-ing-room to the street beyond, were soon lost in the gloom. One, however, lingered at the door, looking apparently for some expected person or conveyance. „ He was, as could easily be seen, a stranger in tiie place. He had seareely a moment to wait, however, wlieh a private coachman approached, whip in hand, and accosted him. “I have been sent to meet a gentleman from New York named Elfensteiu. Are you the one?” “I am.” “Then please follow me.” The young man was soon seated in a handsome closed carriage, while the driver also mounted to his box. and they immediately started off at a papid pace. Street after street was traversed, until finally they turned into tiie extensive grounds of an elegant residence. The house before which they stopped was Urge and imposing in appearance, but still had a dark and gloomy aspect. No light was visible at auy of the windows. As the young man stepped across tiie piazza, the large doors were instantly opened by a colored waiter, who motioned him to enter and proceeded to assist in removing his overcoat and wet overshoes. “How is Mr. Rappelye to-night?” asked the visitor. “’Bout as usual, massa. 'Pears like he must die, he is always so badly off for breff. ” “Can I see him?” “Yes, sah, just as soon as you has something to eat. Some dinner is waiting, and de nuss says you am to eat it immejertly, den come up to Ills room. I will show you, derfore, to de diningroom fust.” “Very well,” replied the stranger, wearily; “I am ready.” Crossing the marble floor of the long hall, he was ushered into a room elegantly appointed. The bright grate fire east a cheerful glow around, while the velvet carpet scarcely gave back a footfall. The table was laid for one, and very soon a sumptuous dinner was served, of which lie alone partook. Leaving the stranger to enjoy his solitary meal, we will precede him to the story above, and to the presence of the invalid, whose urgent telegraphic dispatch had brought him to tiie place. Tiie second story back room was large and commodious, opening into a room beyond, where every luxury abounded, for the eomfort of tiie master. Yet in the midst of ail this splendor, sickness had stalked, ever reaching forth his poisoned tongue to Wight and wither tiie owner of it all. “Has he come?” These words issued from the pale lips of the sufferer, who was half sitting, half reclining upon the bed. “Has Dr. Elfensteiu come? 1 thought I heard tiie carriage.” “You did, and he is here.” returned tiie nurse and housekeeper. “1 thought it best to have him take dinner before you saw him. I presume you have much to say and would prefer not to be interrupted. He will be with you in a few moments now.”

The invalid sighed. Then, seeing him greatly pressed for breatli* “You seem to suffer so much, liad you not, better postpone seeing him until morning?” said the nurse. * “Oh, no. I may be worse then. Asthma is so hard to oonquer. I will not defer my business. Has my lawyer come?” “Not yet.” “He should lie here. The cuckoo clock lias sounded half-|>a«t eight some time since.” “Yes, it is a quarter to nine now. But the door-bell rings. I think tiiat is he.” “Set that stand with writing materials close by ray bed. then go down and show both gentlemen to this room: after which you can leave us to ourselves until you hear me ring.” Making herself known, the nurse introduced Earle to Mr. Gray, then led-the way to the sick man’s presence. “Here is Mr. Gray. Mr. Rappelye, and this is your expected friend, Dr. Elfenstein.” Reaching fortji a thin, white hand, the old man smiled feebly, and between struggling breaths managed to say: “I am very glad to see yon.” Taking tiie emaciated hand in botli his, Earle Elfensteiu pressed it tenderly, and in a low tone, full of feeling, responded: “I am glad I could come to you, but sorry, very sorry, to see you so ill.” “You must wonder why I summoned you, an entire stranger, to my side iu this unceremonious way, but I have important business to transact. Talking is such an exertion, my lawyer. Mr. Gray, must explain for me .my wishes, and why I sent for you.” Those words were uttered at intervals, for his short breathing prevented long sentences, and gently releasing his hand Elfenstein took the seat close beside the bed, while Mr. Gray seated himself in a business-like way beside the table. CHAPTER 111. MR iiappelye's proposal. “Dr. Elfenstein,” said Mr. Gray, “my client and friend, Mr. Leon Rappelye, is, as you see, extremely ill. His sufferings are so great that he lids deoutized me to explain his motive in sending so unceremoniously for you to visit him in his home. Our friend is a lonely man, having no relatives living to whom he wishes to leave his largo fortune. He has dictated his last will and testament, and he desires to sign it before he may

be unable to do so; it was necessary for him to see you personally previous to placing his name' to the document iu which, I may add. you are deeply interested.” Earle Elfensteiu st heard these words, and lookc vyer to the invalid beside 11. “You are surprised, natuia L. again resumed Mr. Gray, “and probably wonder what Mr. Rappelye knows of you. I will explain this at once. Your father was George Elfenstein, a well-known banker: in years gone by he did Mr. Rappelye a never-to-be-forgotten service. His arrival in this country was followed by a long and dangerous illness, when he lay alone among strangers, almost neglected. and he attended to his wants like a brother until lie entirely convalescent. “They met often afterward, and then lost sight of each other. Years of silence passed, when accidentally lie learned about three months Since that his benefactor was dead, and his only-son was a struggling physician in New York, through an intimate friend, who often mentioned his fondness for tlfls talented young man, and in this way Mr. Rappelye became deeply interested in you. He has liea-rd of your fearless, conscientious manner of meeting your engagements, and this was a characteristic lie. particularly wished to find in some young friend. When, therefore, his health entirely failed, so that lie could no longer look after his private business, he determined to send for you, and perhaps place his affairs in your hands.” Tiie lawyer paused, and Earle answered: “Anything that I can do within the range of honor and integrity, I shall be pleased to undertake.” “We felt so. The case then is this: but, of course, you will recognize tile, fact that the history of our friend’s life, which I shall be obliged to unfold to you, is told in strict confidence. Will you promise to regard that confidence as a sacred trust, never to be told to another, until all that is now mysterious has been swept away?” “I will. ” “Then I will proceed. Our friend was the youngest son of Sir Geoffrey Glendenning, residing in a large town near Liverpool. This gentleman had one daughter, who married against his wishes, and three sous—Arthur, who would in ease of his death succeed to the title; Reginald, two years younger; and Fitzoy, the gentleman you see before you, whose severe domestic misfortunes have been so great that for the last twenty-five years lie has been obliged to live in this country, under the assumed name of Rappelye. The cause of this retirement he lias kept, and still wishes to keep, a profound secret. “A short time after the death ot his parents, for they expired within a few months of each other, and after his brother Arthur had come into possession of his title, little turmoils arose between the brothers, and seemed to embitter, them exceedingly. “Reginald, the second son, had an ugly, morose disposition, that was peculiarly exasperating, and whenever the opportunity occurred he delighted in getting Fitzroy into disgrace with the young baronet. “These young men had a very pretty cousin, in whose society they eacli took extreme pleasure. Her name was Constance Leonore Glendenning. It was soon discovered that the affections of the young girl were centered upon Sir Arthur, and this knowledge was immediately followed by a betrothal. “Reginald, being somewhat, disappointed that be could not win the prize, undertook to report several little interviews of a purely innocent and accidental nature that Fitzroy had had .with tills lady to his brother, casting a very sinister light upon them, and assuring Arthur that Fitzroy was endeavoring to supplant him in her favor. “This artful story infuriated the young nobleman, and caused a very bitter interview. Fitzroy indignantly denied every thought of interference, declaring the truth, that his love for Constance was merely cousinly, and urging tiiat lie had lieen slandered. “This Sir Arthur refused to believe,and they parted iu anger, Fitzroy exclaiming, in a moment of unguarded passion, as lie left him: “‘Very well, think so if it suits you; but, mark mo, you shall yet repent your unjust accusations, and, as I live, shall never repeat this insult.’ “Closing tiie door as he spoke, lie stepped into the hall, and stood face to face with Antoine Duval, tiie valet of his brother Reginald, and, from tiie conscious look lie gave him, Fitzroy knew, and after events made him certain, that he had either purposely listened or accidentally hoard the unfortunate remark. “The brothers did not meet again that day, but early the next Fitzroy was awakened by an unusual tumult. “Rising, lie dressed rapidly, and proceeded to investigate the cause of tho disturbance “To his iiorror he was told that Sir Arthur had disappeared during the night. His bed had been occupied as usual, but he had probably been murdered, or very badly wounded, as, while no traces of his body eould be found, evidences of a contest were on every side. “Blood was upon the bed and floor, the window-seat was covered with it, as though he had been dragged through it, and then by means of a rope let down t-<* tiie ground below. “The rope still clung to the balcony. “From the grass to an ornamental lake not far distant were irregular patches of the same human gore. “Beyond that, nothing was ever discovered! . “That lake was thoroughly dragged for the body; the grave by the side of it was searched, not a spot being left in which a corpse could be buried—to no effect. “The body of the murdered Sir Arthur Glendenning was never found. “But, while stupefied with grief over his brother’s loss, our poor friend was made aware that the finger of suspicion pointed to him with singularly fatal evidences of guilt. “A dagger with his name engraved upon the handle was found by the bedside. In the floor, its blade still wet with blood. “Beneath tiie window-seat, caught upon a nail, vras r. fragment of cloth which, upon search being made, fitted exactly into a rent in a dressing-gown of his, that was found hanging in hi-; own closet. “Horrible to relate, some of his brother’s blood still clung to the gown! fTO BE CONTINUED.] PatLAMON had gone forthlo see the world, and he had seen it; and he had learned that God’s kingdom was not a kingdom of fanatics, yelling for a doctrine, but of willing, loving, obedient hearts.,- -Charles Kingsley. ‘