Читать книгу The Bandits of the Osage - Emerson Bennett - Страница 8

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THE JEW—THE KIDNAPPER—THE RESCUE.

On the margin of the Mississippi, some eight or ten miles below St. Louis, stood, at the time of which we write, an old, somewhat dilapidated, and apparently untenanted log hut. Although standing on the bank of the river, it was well screened from observation by thick branching trees and a dense shrubbery, which completely surrounded it. The ground in the rear of it was mostly level; but in front, it abruptly descended to the river, which came sweeping along some thirty yards below. The hut itself, on close inspection, presented both externally and internally a very disagreeable appearance. It contained but one apartment, if we except a place partitioned off at one end, for what purpose may, perhaps, be seen hereafter. However ugly and disagreeable the matter may prove, dear reader, it now becomes necessary for us to introduce you within the precints of this old dwelling—for dwelling indeed it was—at an hour not the most agreeable, were you obliged to enter corporeally.

Seated upon an old stool, beside a small table, on which his elbow rested, his head in turn resting upon his hand, was a man over whom some sixty years had made their circling rounds. One hand held a paper, on which he was intently gazing, while some few others were scattered carelessly over the table. It was near the "witching time of night," and a dim, flickering candle served to show the outline of his form, and bring his features into a more bold relief. His countenance was strongly marked by several lines which depicted cunning and avarice to a remarkable degree. His eyes were small, dark and piercing, and were surmounted by heavy beetling brows. His forehead was low, and deeply wrinkled; and his head, though a little bald, was generally covered with long hair, besprinkled with the silver touches of time. The most striking feature of his face, was his nose; being long, pointed and aquiine— denoting him to be one of that often despised race, the Jew. His beard was suffered to grow, unmolested by the civilizing touches of a razor; was rough, of a dirty brown color; and came below his chin sufficiently, with his head bent forward, to rest on his bosom. His skin was dark and filthy, deeply wrinkled, and begrimed with dirt. Altogether his whole appearance betokeued a man full of treachery and deceit; of dark sinister motives; and one who, to a person of the least refined taste, would prove repugnant in the extreme.

He was seated as before said, intently gazing on a paper held in his hand, which trembling in the light, threw over his swarthy, hideous features a flitting shade; making them, if possible, even more hideous in expression. Gradually his small, while a sinister smile hovered around the corners of his mouth, as he uttered a low, chuckling laugh.— Suddenly starting, a paleness overspread his countenance, the paper dropped from his hand, and he looked hurriedly around the room, vainly endeavoring to peer into the darkness, his limbs trembling with cowardly fear, exclaiming:

"Ha! mine Gott! vot wash dat? O! poh, poh! twas noshings; vot fors should I pees afraids?— noshings vill hurtish me;" and turning to the table, he again took up the paper, muttering— "Dis ish von good documents, as shall makes mine fortunes. De old Jew vill von days pe a very great mans, mid a young handsome wifes;" and again he chuckled, with a fiendish glee.

Scanning the papers for a few minutes, he commenced rolling them carefully together, and ended by securing them with a string. When done, he laid the roll upon the table before him, and gazed upon it long and wistfully:—then rising from his seat, he shuffled slowly across the apartment, to the place already mentioned as being partitioned off, where disappearing for a few minutes, he reappeared, returned, reseated himself on his stool, crossed his arms an the table, bent his head forward, and, judging from his vacant stare, was soon engaged in some deep study.

"Ha! mine Gott! but dey mush succeeds!" exclaimed he, at length, as though speaking from a train of thought:—"yet I fears dat infernal showers will make it too mush bad. Ah! vot wash dat!" cried he suddenly, starting up and bending forward in alistening attitude. "Blessed pe Fader Abram! dat ish de signals," continued he, rubbing his hands, chuckling, and advancing towards the door, as a clear, shrill whistle rang through the hovel. "Ah, mine Gott! mine Gott! von day nows I shall haves plenty of monish;" and he attempted a feeble imitation at dancing, which, with his stooped figure and trembling limbs, presented a spectacle disgusting as it was ridiculous.

Advancing to the door, the opened it, gave an answering signal from a piece of ivory which he applied to his mouth, and then leaned against the door post, as if in expectation of some visitor.— For some minutes all was silent, and then came the sound of approaching footsteps, with which was occasionally mingled a grunt and a deep muttered curse, as though the comer was toiling with some heavy burthen. Directly the figure of a man was seen struggling through the bushes, bearing a human body in his arms, and a moment after, entering the hovel, he deposited it on the ground.

"Thar,' Mister Jew David, when you want another gal cotched, I reckons as how you'll have to cotch her yerself—for Bill Riley aint found on such an errand agin, not afore this scrape's forgot, anyhow."

"Vare ish Mistoor Jacks?" enquired the Jew.

"Why ye see, old feller, that ar's much easier axed, than answered. Most likely he's in a straight jacket by this time, if he arn't already bored through the body. I did'nt wait to see how it come out, for I thought one was about as many as I could tend on, conveniently."

"Vy, vot dosh you means?" cried the Jew, in alarm.

"O, nothing much, only somebody happened to hear what was a goin' on, and come up in a hurry, pistol in hand, which probably went off accidentally, and ye see Jack arn't here; that's all I know about it."

"Oh, mine Gott! mine Gott! do you thinks Jacks vosh kilt?" enquired the Jew, his dark eyes gleaming strangely.

"Can't say—most likely he's dead by this time."

A low, half-smothered chuckle escaped the Jew, which Bill overheard, and turning fiercely to him, exclaimed:

"Look ye here, old rough-head! I believe you're a most outrageous, old villainous cut-throat! I do upon my honor."

"Vot fors you shays dat?" asked the Jew, with a savage grin.

"Cause I jest think so, and I al'ays like to speak my mind. Here you are now, laughing to yerself, for ye darn't to laugh out like a man, thinking Jack, poor feller's, dead. Well, it's lucky for you if he is: that's my opinion about it."

"Vot for you shays dat?" repeated the Jew, turning a little pale.

"Come, come, old feller, not so fast. Bill Riley don't peach; if he did"—and he looked keenly at the Jew, drawing his right hand obliquely across his throat, making a gurgling sound— "somebody might get that ar' you know. But come," he added, "I've done the job, and now I'll trouble you for the chinkers—a cool hundred, you remember."

"Oh, mine Gott! it vosh but fifty!" cried the Jew, starting back.

"Fifty apiece, old covey, and thar's two on us, which jest makes it a hundred. As Jack's not here, I'll jest take his for him, and in case I cum across him, its easily paid over, ye see."

"Oh, mine Gott! I vill not not do so," whimpered the Jew, who in Jack's absence thought he might cheat him of his share.

"You won't, eh?" exclaimed Bill, advancing to the table and returning with the light, which he held close to the features of Emily, who lay extended on the ground, pale and motionless, yet even lovely withal: "Look thar,' Jew! d'ye see that ar' innocent young lady, whom God forgive me, for bringing into harm's way! D'ye see her? Now look at me;" and he drew himself up to his full height, bringing the light full in front of his face, while the Jew stood wondering:—"Look well! d'ye see me? do I look like a feller that can be trifled with?" Then drawing a pistol, he raised it to a level with the head of David, who turned pale, trembled, and threw up his hands in an imploring attitude as he continued: "Now mark me, Jew David, if them ar' chinkers arn't forthcoming in about two minutes, I'll send a bullet through your head, by—!" and he concluded with an oath.

"Oh, Fader Abram!" exclaimed the Jew, trembling like an aspen leaf; "poot down de pishtools, Mistoor Rileys, and you shall haves de monish."

For a moment the other stood gazing on him with a look of ineffable scorn, and as he did so, the trio formed a scene worthy the pencil of an artist.

Near the centre of the room was Riley, his tall straight form drawn proudly up, one foot thrown a little back, his right hand grasping a pistol, his left the light, which throwing its gleams upon his countenance, exhibited it in strong relief. His features were not handsome—strictly speaking— and yet they were well formed; the outlines bold and rather prepossessing. Their expression was stern, rather than villainous, and his clear, bold, grey eyes, which were now fastened with intensity upon the Jew, spoke more the courage of a man, than the braggadocio of a scoundrel. There was something in his look which told you he would do what he said; and one that to trifle with under circumstances like the present, would prove a dangerous individual. His lips thin, and generally close drawn over his teeth, were now parted and slightly drawn up with a sneer, wherein was concentrated all the scorn which a truly brave man feels at the sight of a whimpering, cowardly ruffian. Some two or three feet in front of Riley, stood the Jew; his withered form, blanched cheeks, quivering lips and trembling limbs, presenting a striking contrast. Ay, he, the dastardly cutthroat, who would not flinch from burying the murderer's dagger in the heart of some poor, unsuspecting victim, now quaked and trembled at only the bare thought of death overtaking his shriveled, worthless carcase! A little to the left of Riley, lay the apparently lifeless form of Emily Nevance; her pale features looking even more pale and death-like, as the dim light of the lamp fell faintly upon her lovely, upturned countenance; while night formed the back-ground, and compietely encircling them, threw a dark veil over surrounding objects.

After gazing a moment on the Jew, Riley advanced to the table, replaced the light, seated himself on the stool, and then bade the Israelite "make haste with the chinkers."

Old David tottered slowly across the apartment, to the closet before spoken of, groaning at the very idea of parting with so much money; but presently he returned, bringing with him a leathern purse, which he emptied on the table, exclaiming;

"Dare, Mistoor Rileys, ish all my monish.— Oh! mine Gott! I shall always more pe one ruined mans."

Riley deigned no reply, but cooly commenced counting the money and transferring it to his pockets. Then turning to the Jew, he enquired what he intended to do with the lady.

The Jew looked at him steadily for a moment, and then as if satisfied there was nothing to fear, replied, with a grin, his small black eyes twinkling with savage humor:

"Vy, Mistoor Rileys, I tinks I shall makes her my vife."

"Your what?" cried Bill, half starting up.

"My vife," repeated the Jew, scarcely knowing whether to be alarmed or not.

"Your wife, eh? ha, ha, ha!—that's capital; a mighty good joke that, old boy—ha, ha, ha!— You're such a good looking, soft eyed, clean faced old beauty, that if the lady don't fall in love with ye at first sight, you'll have the perticular satisfaction o' knowing the fault warn't yours, anyhow— ha, ha, ha!"

"He, he, he!" laughed the Jew, grinning hideously.

"But I say, Jew, what's yer object in throwin' yerself away at such a tender age?"

"Vot fors mine objects?" repeated the Jew, enquiringly.

"Yes! what'll ye get by marryin' this ere lady? for in course ye'll gain somethin' or yer wouldn't do it."

"O, mine Gott! I shall marrys for loves, Mistoor Rileys;" replied the Jew, with stoical gravity.

"For love, eh?—ha, ha, ha!—ho, ho, ho!" roared Bill, holding his sides:—"For love, eh?" and again he went into convulsive fits of laughter. "Why you confounded, stupid old heathen! do you think as how you can make an ass o' Bill Riley? Do you really think thar's anything perticularly verdant about him? Love—paugh! your shrivelled old carcase never fell in love with anything yet, unless thar' was "monish" attached to't. Now jest mark me!" continued he, looking steadily at the Jew, raising the forefinger of his right hand, and assuming a serious tone of voice: "Thar's a mystery connected with this ere business, and per'aps you thinks as how you can blind me, and per'aps you may; but I tell you one thing, bewar' what you do! for if this ere gal comes to harm, through your doings, I, Bill Riley, swear by the honor of a gentleman, to send a bullet through yer loathsome carcase! I do, by heavens! And Jew, I know more consarnin' this, than you're a thinkin' on. Thar's some secret connected with this gal's birth, and you intend crossin' the big waters."

The Jew started back, exclaiming: "Vy, how you finds dat outs?"

"Ha! then I'm right there," thought Bill.— "No matter how I found it out," he replied; "but ye see I know a little what's a goin' on, so have a care friend David. But enough! I'll have to begin to travel; so good bye, old boy, and jest keep yer eye skinned for squalls;" and rising as he spoke, he moved for the door.

At this juncture, Emily, whom they supposed lay in a swoon, but who in reality bad feigned it, in order to learn as much as possible regarding the wherefore of her capture; and who, thinking from the foregoing conversation there might be something gained by appealing to the feelings of Riley; uttered a scream, and sprang into a sitting posture, exclaiming:

"Save me, save me!" But her plan did not succeed. Riley, either fearful of being discovered, or that she might work upon his feelings, pushed quickly forward and disappeared.

As the door closed behind the kidnapper, the Jew looked hurriedly around, gave a low chuckle, rubbed his hands together, and advanced towards Emily, who instantly sprang to her feet. Recoiling a step or two, he gazed upon her with undisguised admiration, as well he might. Her beauful figure drawn gracefully up, the flush of excitement mounting her face and neck with a ruddy glow, her proud lip curling with a look of scorn, again reflected from her brilliant, dark blue eyes, as she crossed her arms on her breast and stood regarding him; formed a picture which might win the admiration of even a miserly cutthroat.

"O, mine Gott! she does looks so mush pooty!" cried the Jew—"Vot a fine wifes!"

"Jew," began Emily, in a dignified tone, "what means this? why have I been brought hither?"

For a moment the Jew looked at her steadily, and as he did so, his ugly features contracted into a grin, followed by a low chuckle.

"You ish very mush pootish, gal," he replied, "and Ben David vill makes you his wifes."

"Never!" cried Emily, in a voice so loud, bold and firm, that the Jew involuntarily started back "Never, sir! I become your wife? No! sooner would I die a thousand deaths!"

"O, mine Gott! she does looks so mush pootish!" exclaimed old David, recovering from his surprise as Emily ceased, and gazing upon her with a doting look of exultation. "Come, young ladish, we vill takes a walk," continued he, approaching and taking hold of her arm, which she threw off with a contemptuous look,—at the same time drawing a dagger from the folds of her dress, while the Jew again started suddenly back, she exclaimed:

Beware, Jew, beware! It were better for you to beard a lion in his den, than a woman armed, in my situation. Do not attempt to touch me with your foul, polluted hands, or your much fouler soul, thrice damned with sin, with all its hideous weight of guilt, shall wing its flight and stand arraigned before the bar of the eternal God! And Jew," continued she solemnly, "there is a God! and one of justice."

So sudden the action, so bold the movement, so solemn the tone of Emily, all combined, took the Jew completely by surprise; and he stood for a moment, gazing upon her dark blue, soul-speaking eyes, with alook wherein was blended all the awe, admiration and respect, which one like him was capable of expressing. It was but for a moment however. A dark shade suddenly flitted across his forehead; his eyes shot forth strange, savage gleams; his lips quivered, as he attempted to compress them over his almost toothless gums, and he bent on Emily a look so full of the expression of a fiend, that she felt her eye quail, while the blood receded to her heart and a tremor of secret terror ran throughout her system.

Applying the ivory to his lips, the Jew gave a peculiar whistle, which was immediately answered from without. A minute later, two figures entered the doorway; and ere Emily had fairly comprehended what was going forward, she found herself pinioned in the grasp of two ruffians.

"Oh!" exclaimed she, "all is lost!" and she uttered a heart-piercing scream.

The Jew chuckled merrily, and advancing toward her, until she felt his very breath on her face, said:

"You looks very mush more pootish;" and he attempted to press his loathsome lips against her face. Recoiling as much as lay in her power— each wrist being grasped by the strong arm of a man—Emily managed to evade what she would have suffered death sooner than permitted, a kiss from the Jew. At this moment she thought of Edward, and scarcely knowing why, she called upon his name for help.

"Vot fors you calls?" chuckled the Jew. "Mistoor Edwards vill not comes!"

"'Tis a lie!" uttered a deep, manly voice, that made Emily scream for joy, as the figure of a man sprang quickly forward, a pistol in either hand, still exclaiming:—"Back, fiends of hell! back! ere I send a bullet through your brains!" and the next instant Emily was clasped in the arms of Edward Merton, who pressed her to his bosom with all the wild foundness of a first passionate love.

After leaving Merton in the previous chapter, he had ridden quickly forward, but had been somewhat delayed, as the exact location of the old hut was unknown to him. He had secured his horse at a short distance, and was searching along the bank of the river, assisted by the light of the moon, which pouring down her silvery flood of light, gave to each thing a calm and pleasing effect— when the scream of Emily arresting his attention, effectually enabled him to find the house; which being completely surrounded by trees and bushes, had thus far eluded his observation. Instantly springing forward, he reached the entrance just in time to hear the voice of her he loved, in tones that went to his very soul, calling on him for help, and the taunting reply of the Jew. Mad, almost, with hope, rage and fear combined, he entered as described; but so suddenly, and unexpectedly, that the ruffians relaxed their hold and retreated to the farther side of the apartment; while the Jew, not knowing what he had to fear, stood trembling with very fright. Seeing there was but one, however, he somewhat recovered, exclaiming:

"Vy you don't sheize him? vot fors you ish afraids?"

"Off, ruffians, off! or by heavens you journey to another world!" cried Merton, springing in front of Emily. "And as for you, old dastardly cutthroat!" continued he, turning to David, as the ruffians paused—"I have a word to say, which you will do well to heed! This girl I demand by virtue of this ring!" and as he spoke, he presented the one given him by Barton.

Whether Merton expected this to have any effect on the Jew or not, certain it is that he was very much surprised at the singular change it did effect; for the Jew instantly advanced in a fawning manner, while the ruffians slunk quietly away. Content that his purpose was gained, without seeking the mysterious cause, Merton, accompanied by Emily, quitted the hovel as soon as possible. The Jew followed them to the door, whispering them a good night, pleasant journey and so forth, and even went so far as to offer his service as a guide, which of course was declined. As Merton entered the bushes, he looked back and saw the Jew standing in the doorway, his face upturned as though gazing at the stars. At this moment a cloud which had obseured the rays of the moon passed, and the light streaming full upon his countenance, exhibited features so wrought up in expression with all that was dark, treacherous and devilish, that in Merton's estimation the owner was well worthy to become the master fiend of hell itself.

A short walk of a few minutes brought them to the spot where Merton had left his horse, when to the surprise of both, they found the one Emily had ridden standing along side. Merton accounted for this by supposing that the kidnapper, either forgetting, or not having any further use, had left her at liberty, when attracted by the neighing of Sir Harry she had sought him out. Assisting Emily to mount, he was soon once more astride his own fine steed; and moving away with lightened hearts, they were shortly traversing a path which led on toward Webber's, engaged in mutual explanations of what had occurred to each in the others absence; and if in doing so, Merton did ride a little closer to the side of Emily than was actually necessary—and if when the moon shone full on her fair countenance, he did bend forward and gaze thereon with a look of fondness that told of holy love, drinking in the glances of her dark blue eyes—and if in attempting to lay hold of her bridle-rein, to guide her horse in the better path, he sometimes touched her hand, pressing it within his own, and whispered words so soft and low the very zephyrs could not catch their import, causing her head to droop, while a rosy tint sprang brightly o'er her face,— is it anything that the reader should stop to wonder at? We think not. Very few but would have done the same under like circumstances.