Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 37, Number 1, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 January 1905 — Woman The Mystery [ARTICLE]

Woman The Mystery

By HENRY HERMAN

CHAPTER XVl.— (Continued.) 'Drugged and rendered insensible, Helwb» would be ruthlessly shot through the ibmd, and left in the little hut, while he hupfl Henri made their way to Gen. MciCWten’s headquarters either by surrenjtaring to the Federal pickets or by evadMff ’tbeon. There he would give information that ■ whom he had promised to bring through the lines to see Captain Denon, ■t Captain Denon’s request, had been {killed during the night by a shot from a •otrthern patrol, and that her body was wing just outside the lines. Epon this statement ho felt sure that Helene’s (corpse would be brought into the NorthIm camp, where her identification by (Denon, and afterward by Jack, would taatorally complete his diabolical scheme. On the Tuesday morning Quayle was partaking his preparations. He had providM Henri with a civilian's suit similar to feria own, armed him with one of the two pmolvers, and provided him with a tin fourteen of the type used by both armies ■or the purpose of carrying water. He passed the early morning hours in (tearing up most of his papers and in selecting a few of paramount importance, (wfhtich he put into his wallet for future Loe. He did not Intend to return to Richmond, whatever the upshot of the Enterprise might be, and the papers Srtdch he carried about him had to be ■booen wiitli great £are and judgment so <*• not to embarrass him in case of an Adverse investigation. That being done, he went at about -fcht o’clock in the forenoon to the .usual Mace of rendezvous of the Intelligence □Department, for the purpose of obtaining * paoa for himself and a servant to the porth of the lines near Mechanicsville. It |w«* here that he made the only mistake ifa Ms otherwise extremely cunningly laid plan. He left Monsieur Henri in his rooms, and, for greater security, locked Mm in. Monsieur Henri, having nothing better pto do, walked from one room to the other After the manner of an impatient caged (bear, kicking about the odds and ends with which the floors were littered. Quite by an accident his glance alighted on a little square piece of paper, evifdantly a cutting from a newspaper, which bad escaped the general destruction. It was an advertisement, and was cut from (The Moniteur of June, 1848. It was in (French, and ran as follows: “REWARD OF FIFTY THOUSAND FRANCS.

“A reward of fifty thousand francs nrili be paid to the person or persons who 'will give information of the present nrhereabouts of Helene Berinquay, only (daughter of the late Herbert Berinquay, •f Berinquay Manor, Devonshire, .who is •apposed to be living in Paris under the «ara of a man named Rustrome Parlowe. said Helene Berinquay is sixteen |j«rrs of age. As a child she was resnarfcable for' her sparkling, large, deepjWoe eyes. Rustrome Parlowe is a cripHis right leg Is paralyzed.. He is ■bout eirty years of age, and very likely fooks older. The above reward will be paid to any person who will,give the intformation above required, the said Helene Berinquay being entitled to a fortune amounting to nearly fifty millions of Cranes. Address all communications to <b» Honorable Walter Glaydes, at No. 22 *t. Germain, or to Mr. Charles Long, 5 Send street, London, solicitor.” Henri read and reread the little paper. “Helene Berinquay 1” he said to himself. “Helene Berinquay! What has Uneyle to do with a newspaper cutting •flexing a reward of fifty thousand francs *»r the discovery of Helene Berinquay? ‘As • child she was remarkable for her Sterge, deep-blue eyes.’ Why,” he conftinued to himself, “Helene has rem ark•My large sparkling, deep-blue eyes, and ■s I coma to thing of it, Jean Lemure «*■• • cripple, and his right leg was paralysed. Quayle,” he went on, “wants me help him to do away with Helene. Somebody wants her dead, that's quite •sMent. If anybody is willing to pay flfity thousand franca to be able to find Bar alive, most likely somebody else will ■be willing to pay fifty thousand francs *to be Able to prove her dead. I shall have to think this business over.” The next thing that Henri noticed wee that Quayle poured a quantity of eolorlees liquid into his canteen out of a *ttle bottle marked “Poison.” “Zat vat for?” he asked.

“That’s to help us in our business,” Quayle eadd. “You needn’t drink out of wjr canteen, and I won’t drink out of it. treat’s all you have to take care of.” Everything being prepared Quayle and (Henri immediately started on their eighteen miles' journey to Ashland. It might bare been seven o’clock when the pair arrived, dust and travel stained, at »C»ockett’s tavern. Helene rose calmly ■when she saw Henri and Quayle. The tetter, "of course, she did not recognize, Wot, greeting Henri with a smile, she &rid out her hand to his companion. “I suppose you are the gentleman who tera been so kind to me?” she said. “I don’t know that I have been par•faslarly kind to you, Miss Letnure,” eakl Quayle, with profuse courtesy. “I am simply about to keep a promise solemnly made to my friend and your ehrknd, Captain Denon.” “Do you think you will be able to keep Sgoar premise?” asked Helene. “I seldom fail in accomplishing a task 0 oet myself,” was Quayle’s grim reEer. “May I suggest that wo start idsately? The sooner we are away here the better." Helene had taken but little notice of Maori, but Henri had passed the time |te looking at her closely, intent upon his loan <»ughta. “Tm," ba said to himself, “there can B*e ao doubt about it. Those large, deep Ml eyes are remarkable. There are no iMbercyes like that in the world, I should MT. Helene Lemure must be Helene r, and she is very handsome—enough for anybody—even for 1 am afraid," he continued in anmuninga, “I shall have to put Into Monsieur Quayle's wheel. I don't see why he should have rofit, and I all the risk and want some of the profit myself, Im take hie chance.” bey bad proceeded about a mile kerly direction, Quayle, cowing

to a little eminence where he could survey the surrounding country, suddenly climbed over a fence, and struck out through a coppice of vines, dud southeast. Here he sat down on a gnarled root of a tree, and invited Helene and Henri to take seats close by him. “We shall have to wait here,” he said, “until it gets a little darker. We can easily cover the distance we have to go in about a couple of Hours. It is only about six miles. There you will be able to rest, Miss I>emure, as we will have to wait until the morning mist rises to conceal us while we cross the line.” On a sudden the noise of many horses’ hoofs reached them from the distance, and it soon became apparent that Quayle had chosen .his point of vantage not many minutes too soon. “I shall have to ask you to lie down, and keep out of sight, Miss Lemure,” said Quayle, crawling to a spot where ne could catch a glimpse of the road through the openings between the pines. A couple of minutes passed in breathless silence, while the tramp, tramp, tramp of the horses approached closer, and in a few minutes more a number of horsemen, followed by a considerable detachment of Southern cavalry, came along the open road, some fifty or sixty yards beyond them. When they bad passed away, Quayle crept down to the side of the road, and looked out toward the open. The cavalry had disappeared at a turn of the pike, and no other being was in sight. “We can go on now,” said Quayle, when he had returned to his companions. And they immediately started on their journey, heeding no obstacles, climbing over fences, crossing corn fields in full stalk, and taking their course through fields covered with brambles and blackberries. The road was a rough one for a woman, but Helene seemed determined not to be beaten by the two men. As she walked along by Quayle's side, and looked at the rough red beard, the thin, sharp, unprepossessing face, and the crafty, cool, oblong blue eyes, slm could not help saying to herself that this was not the kind of man from whom she would have expected gallantry and nobility of sentiment. But then she argued with herself that appearances were often untrustworthy, and Henri’s presence, somehow or other, gave her a feeling of security. Thus they journeyed on, across fields and through woods, up inclines and down little dales, until, after passing through a dense forest of pines, they arrived at the edge of a field where Helene could see a ruined hut, probably formerly used as a store shed. /

“I want you to be very quiet nt present, Miss Lemure,” whispered Quayle. “We are now in sight of the Yankee pickets. They cannot notice us because we are in the shadow, but if we advance farther they will see us and tire upon us. We shall have to wait here until the early morning, when the thick mist, which always rises from the low-lying ground, will shelter us. Then we can creep into the lines between the felled trees that you see on the left there, and after that the rest of the journey will bo easy. What I propose that you should do. Miss Lemure, is that you will take shelter in that hut there. 1 know the place. There is a quantity of straw in one corner. You can rest there undisturbed, and we will watch outside.” With this, he led the way cautiously to the little hut. Helene’s heart stood still nearly as she peered into the place. The u*oouXwas shining through the broken roof, and in the greenish, patchy light it looked as if it were haunted by ghosts. The corner where the straw lay was dark as pitch. “You need not be afraid." Quayle went on, in an encouraging whisper. “The little shed is not a hotel or a palace, but you will find it more bearable than you think. It is a fine night, and you will not feel cold. I suppose you must be thirsty,” he said, slinging around bis canteen. “May I offer you a drink of water?” He had already unstoppered his canteen, in which Henri had seen him pour the contents of the poison bottle, when Helene stopped him. “Thank you,” she said. "I am very much obliged to you, but I have in my satchel a flask of cold tea.” With this she opened her satchel to taka out the flask, and in doing so seemingly unconsciously showed a revolver, a small one, but quite l>ig enough to make her personality respected. Quayle bit his lips, and if it had not been for the treacherous moonlight, Helene might have seen him turn gray with disappointment and rage. But there was nothing to be said. Helene entered the hut. "Curse my luck!” muttered Quayle to himself. “That is the first disappointment. Are there any more coming? I shall have to wait until she really falls asleep of her own accord. It would not do to attempt it while she is awake. She would scream, and, in the silence the pickets over there would hear her, and that would spoil all possible chance of my tale being believed. Mr. Denon might take it into his head to charge me with murdering the woman, and it would not take him long to get me hanged if he made up his mind that way.” He crept up to where Henri sat at the foot of a tree.

“She would not drink from my canteen," he whispered. “I should zink not,” replied Henri, grimly. “Your face not your fortune. If I you, ven start on vork like zis, I change face, sell face, get anozer if must steal it. Your face not inspire confidence.” “Silence!" growled Quayle. “Why don’t you shout? Do you want her to hear you? We shall have to wait now until she is really asleep, and then you will have to do it. When the mist is on the land, sound travels strangely, and the pickets won’t know where that shot was tired. You will have to be careful to fire it in the hut, so that they shall not see the flash. Mind you nim straight at the head, so that, if possible, one shot will be sufficient. Remember Toulon, and avenge us both."

CHAPTER XVII. Thoroughly wearied out, Helene had sunk asleep on a pile of straw in the hut How long she slept and what woke her,

she knew not, but dim sounds as of muffled whispers in the immediate vicinity of the hut. brought her a feeling of insecurity, and she listened, without moving on the straw, as if her heart were in her eyes. At the same time she looked out and saw that the white mist had risen from the lowlands, and was lying outside the hut and had partly filled it. “She is quite asleep,” said one voice, whichwShe recognized as Quayle’s, in a hoarse whisper. “Now is the time. Go and do itl Don't you remember Toulon? Don't you remember the galleys? Don’t you remember what we both suffered? Are you going to let her escape this time, now that we have got her in our hands?” Helene thought her heart was standing still as she listened. A cold perspiration pearled on her forehead, and, in spite of herself, she felt the color fade from her cheeks and neck, and her whole body growing chill. “No!” was Henri's reply. “I not do it. I not do it.” “Well, then.” was Quayle's nearly hissed retort, “if you are such a coward and such a cur, I will do it myself.” Helene had risen on one knee, with her back to tho wall. Involuntarily her hand w andered toward her satchel, and her revolver was in her grip. The most unexpected had happened. She had been prepared to meet dangers such as surrounded any expedition like the one she had undertaken, but to be entrapped by a pair of dastardly murderers. far away from all possible help, made her shrink in haggard tremor. But when the first thrill of horror was past, her natural bravery asserted its sway. She bit her lip, and, revolver in hand, determined to sell her life dearly. Thus she waited, with her eyes afire, and the moments seemed hours. On a sudden she saw a head appear in the doorway. A sharp-faced, bearded man, whom she recognized as Quayle, was craw ling toward the hut. She could see the profile stand out black against the mist of the outer air, and without knowing what she did, she raised her revolver and fired. Quayle started up with a scream, and at the same moment another dark figure, a burlier one, Henri, appeared behind Quayle, and gripping him by the neck, swung him round and hurled him to the ground. Helene rushed to the door, revolver in hand. The two men were rolling on the ground, shouting and screaming, seeming inextricably mixed up one with the other. She could see that at last Henri was on top of his opponent, holding him down with all his might, when a flash shot up out of the confused mass of limbs and arms, and Henri gave a yell and staggered away. At the same time Quayle jumped up and fired again, while Henri leaned against the corner of the hut. and gripped the wooden walls with ali his might. Helene could see Quayle raise his revolver, and she was about to fire upon hjm in her turn, when a line of flashes rippled through the haze in the direction of the creek, and a perfect hail of minie bullets hissed round the hut. At the same moment a long arm of flame burst from the rising ground beyond the creek, and with a roar a shell came whirring toward them. Helene, with an involuntary cry, ran into the hut, and in the next moment an explosion which, she thought, resembled that of an earthquake, shook the air and ground around her, and jagged pieces of iron rattled against tho sides of the shed and pierced it in places. She heard one piercing scream outside, then a long groan, and then all seemed silent around her.

The fire of the Federate grew stronger, until the air seemed to be alive with messengers of death. Helene, hardly knowing what she did. with her hands and face cold as ice, and her limits quivering. lay down on the ground, her eyes fixed toward the line of flashes, which seemed to creep nearer and nearer every moment. Another shell, this time bursting in the woods behind the hut, and then Helene heard words of command,, and hazy figures approached through the mist, and grew darker and more solid. Helene watched the line of skirmishers as they advanced toward her, firing into the woods as they went on. When they had passed the little shed she breathed a little more freely, and slowly and timidly crept to the door and peered around her. (To be continued.)