VOL. XtV. jSTISW 13LOOMFI35L33, 1JA... TUESDAY, IBRUA-ItY lO, 1880. NO. 7.
THE TIMES.
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eatlon. The Battle for the Cedars.
11Y I'ltKSNLY W. JIOUttlK.
CONTINUED.
ONCE THERE, HE will claim my
Inheritance.
And how well he will succeed ! Who
on shipboard knows aught of the history
of him or me V No one! In my baggage
he will find every proof that he will
need to convince Btrangers that he la
Lionel J Cashel I In my country there
will be no one to dispute his claims.
And I V Alas I I have but my diary,
and a bill of exchange for a thousand
dollars. These I had In an olled-skln
covering, else they had been destroyed
by the water of the oceau.
How great the change I Liverpool,
and not Baltimore ! A struggle with
poverty perhaps, not the master of a
great estate I The matchless villainy of
that man may cheat me forever out of
my inheritance.
1 Maucii 0, 185. I am in Baltimore at
last. After my arrival in England I
was ill for months In a hospital. But
at length I recovered my health, and
now I am stout and hearty.
And how well has Henri Valasquez
succeeded in his plot! lie holds the
great Cashel estate. How he has tri
umphed in his grand villainy 1
What cati I do V It seems as though I,
who am so bitteily wronged, am help
less. If I should attempt to arrest Va
lasquez, would my story be believed V
I feartjot. I am poor. I should be
denounced as the impostor. My story
would be called improbable, declared
beyond belief. He has every advantage;
and for me to battle against him .would
work nothing but disaster for me, I
fear. He, rich in stolen wealth, power
ful in a borrowed name, seems unassail
able. I must devise means to obtain money,
more money than my paltry hundred of
dollars. Then perhaps I can success
fully contend against him.
How strange it all appears.
June 22,185-. It Is nearly three years
since my father's death. I have had a
hard struggle, but my thousand dollars
has grown to ten thousaud. After all,
there is pleasure in the struggle.
How my father would have mourned
had he dreamed that bis petted son was
destined to be merely a cotton buyer
in the Southern States of his own Amer
ica. Yet I could continue to labor for my
self. Were Valasquez justly entitled to the
Cashel estate, I would never envy him.
Aa It is, the villain must be driven
out.
I am almost ready for the battle.
Already had Henri Valasquez decided
upon the manner of disposing of his
victim. In fact, he bad arranged that
before entering the crimson room.
He unfastened the door of the apart
ment,and returning to the side of Lionel
Cashel, lifted btm in bis arms.. But
after taking a step or two he placed him
down again.
Curse it 1" muttered Valasquez, "I
had nearly forgotten his clothing. I
shall not leave them behind to betray
me."
He seized Lionel's clothing, and bound
it to the helpless form, and then, raising
the powerless man In his arms once
more, carried him from the crimson
room.
The burden of Valasquez was a heavy
one, but excitement gave him strength,
and be bore it easily enough. He bad
no light, but knew the course that he
wished to pursue, and felt that he could
find his way whither he wished.
At length the halls echoed hollowly
to his tread. He was far in the west
wing of the great mansion. lie ascend
ed a stairway, and at the top was com
pelled to stop, breathing with fatigue.
" This Is not so much of a farce to
you, Mr. Lionel Cashel," he muttered,
" as was the performance of a few hours
ago."
He continued on again. But pres
ently he stopped, and placed Lionel
Cashel ou the floor.
For a moment he groped about, then
his hand came In contact with a large
key in a door. He turned it, and the
door swung open, creaking on its hin
ges. A lamp placed on the floor lighted a
bare, unfurnished apartment. Valasquez
lifted it, and looked around. The room
must certainly have been constructed
for a prison. There was no other open
ing to it than the door by which Valas
quez had entered, not even a grating in
the walls. They seemed as solid and
firm as adamant.
Valasquez chuckled wickedly. He
placed the lamp upon the floor again,
and, seizing Lionel, dragged him Into
the apartment. Again he lifted the
lamp, and stood looking down upon the
pale, handsome face of his victim.
" I believe he is dead already,'? Valas
quez muttered, with a laugh of devilish
malignity and triumph.
He went out of the prison, shutting
the heavy door behind him. It closed
with a dull clang. Valasquez locked it,
and put the rusty key in his pocket.
The rays of the lamp fell on the wall.
The door seemed almost as solid as iron.
It was set far in the stone walls which
jutted out beyond it, a foot on each side.
Had the builder of that prison Intend
ed it for any such purpose as this V
" Lionel Cashel, I swear that door
shall never be opened on you more,"
muttered Valasquez, as he walked slow
ly away. " You will never trouble me
again."
Suddenly he turned and went back to
the door of the prison. He stood by it,
and for a moment the intense, baleful
glare of his eye was as bright as the light
of the lamp.
" Yes, I will have it done!" he said
aloud in a tone low and hoarse. "Solid
walls of stone shall shut him in. Ha!
ha! fools should beware how they trifle
with Henri Valasquez. Henri Valas
quez I No ! By heaven ! I think I
am entitled to that other name by this
time!"
A few minutes later he was in the
crimson room again. ,
" There is nothing to excite suspicion
here." he muttered, after he had closed
the secret entrance, and taken'a survey
of the apartment.
He returned to the library. Extin
guishing the lights there, he retired to
ills sleeping-room.
He slept till the sun was far up in the
heavens. Valasquez had.no conscience,
so that no pangs for crime committed
could disturb his slumbers.
Arising, and going to the library, he
was summoned to breakfast immediately.
" Sunt," he said carelessly to his ser
vant, " you can go to the crimson room,
and see if that strange gentleman is
ready for breakfast."
"He am gone, Massa Cashel," said
Sant. " I was up to his room an hour
ago, and he was n't dar."
" Hump I" said Valasquez, " he tales
an unceremonious leave, not even re
turning thanks for his lodging."
" I suppose, Massa Cashel, he am just
some straggler," Bant said. "'Pears
kind ob strange, though, dat he would
n't wait fer his breakfas' 1"'
" Yes," muttered Valasquez.
To Sunt, as Valasquez had supposed it
would be, there was nothing mysterious
in the disappearance of the stranger.
That the man should rise early and de
part was nothing very peculiar, and
of course that was the most natural way
of accounting for his absence.
" Sant, Is there a brick-mason about
the placel" the false master of The
Cedars asked, as Sant waited on him at
breakfast.
"'Bpectoleyaller Varcor isdeman,"
Sant answered. "He knows how to
work In brick, and stone and mortar."
"Bend him to the library after break
fast," ordered Valasquez.
"Yea, sah."
Half an hour later, " ole yaller Varcor"
shuffled into the library. He was not as
aged as might he inferred from Sant's
words, probably not much beyond forly
years of age. He was stout in build, and
his face was a wicked one. He looked as
though he might have Inherited the evil
traits of both the races from which he
was evidently descended. But Varcor
had never had any opportunity to dis
tinguish himself lu the line for which
his face showed forth tokens of such
eminent qualifications, that of cunning
villainy, for he had been a slave all
his life.
" Bant tells me that you are a mason,"
said Valasquez to him.
" Yes, sah, 1 Is," Varcor returned.
"I want you to prepare some brick
and mortar to close up a hole up-stnlrs.
Afterwards, you can plaster It over."
" Yes, massa Cashel."
"That is all, for the present. You
can go now and prepare. When you
are ready, let me know."
" Yes, sah."
While the slave was gone on his
errand, Valasquez crept up to the room
where he had placed Lionel Cashel. He
bent his ear to the door, but no sound
came to him. He pounded It with his
lists, hut only hollow echoes rang out.
Then he stood in silence for many
minutes.
Not a sound, but his own breathing,
broke the stillness.
Valasquez had sworn that the door
should never open upon Lionel Cashel.
He, assassin, villain of the deepest dye,
meant to keep his word in this respect !
Yet he would not have hesitated at
a thousand false oaths to further his
ends 1
It was simply a deep, diabolical sense
of triumph in keeping his vow, that
restrained him from opening the door
and looking In.
When he returned to the library he
had no great time to wait till Varcor
came back.
" De brick and de mortar am ready,"
said the slave. " De mortar I finds al
ready mixed."
" Load yourself with brick, and I
will show you where to take them,"
said Valasquez
Strong physically as Varcor was, he
was panting under his burden when
he and Valasquez reached the fatal door
way. " I have taken a notion to have this
place closed," said the false master of
The Cedars, pointing to the door set in
stone. "Bring your mortar and the
rest of your brick."
It was but the slave's place to obey
unquestloningly. His cruel face dis
played uo signs of suspicion. Probably
he had none. If the false master of The
Cedars had felt that he was suspicious
of some iniquitous transaction, he would
have given himself no uneaslnes, for in
the first place he knew that the quality
of mercy was lacking in ' the mulatto's
breast, and he would not trouble himself
to inquire into any wrong; and, further,
his slaves knew better than to talk
about him.
Valasquez stood by until the last
brick was laid and the wall plastered
over.
. Not a single sound to betray that the
prison had a human occupant had been
heard.
" Its mystery would never be reveal
ed," was the exulting thought of the
demon, whose base soul had 'conceived
the plan.
Ay, it was a dark secret that the
prison-room held. Who would ever
dream of it
'What suspicion could fall upon the
rich master of The Cedars V
It was only the next day that Henri
Valasquez was riding toward the De
Vere residence with the intention of
calling upon Barbara Llndsley. As has
been stated, he had no conscience, so
that no guilty pangs could serve to
restrain him from any plan that he
wished to complete.
Galloping along, he met a colored
boy, riding horseback also. Valasquez
was about to pass, when the boy called
to him.
" Massa Cashel, here am sumpfln fer
you," he said.
The man reined in his horse, and .the
boy gave him a white envelope. It bore
these words :
Mb. Lionel Cashel,
The Cedahs,
Virginia.
Tbe falaa master of Ti e Cidirs opened
the dainty affair, and comprehended
immediately what was enclosed. It
wag the wedding card of Victoria Do
Vere and Vincent Sherwood.
"October 4, at five o'clock P.M.,"
said Valasquez to himself. " Only a few
days off. Somewhat suddeu, upon my
word! It will be necessary for me to
return home, I suppose, and write my
acknowledgments of their favor, for this
messenger."
Valasquez turned back toward The
Cedars, bidding the colored boy follow
him. Once there It took but a short
time to write a reply to the Invitation
he had received. This he gave to the
messenger, and let him depart.
" I believe I will defer my visit till
this evening," was the concluson at
which Valasquez arrived. " It will
answer my purpose as well to go then as
to go now."
As usual, Valasquez ate his dinner In
solitude. . He partook but slightly, how
ever, for he had no appetite. His deep,
strong passion for Barbara Llndsley was
working upon him. Perhaps it is not
strange that such men as he, can love
with powerful, passionate Impulse, with
a love that can be Butlsfled only by mak
ing a slave of its object.
Valasquez had decided to ask Barbara
once more to be his wife. The hope that
hung on this question took away his
appetite, unnerved him, and made him
tremble.
It was three o'clock when he finished
his dinner, illsing from tbe table, he
ordered Sant to have his horse brought
out again.
Beaching De Vere's, his ring brought
a servant to the door.
" Tell Miss Llndsley that a gentleman
wishes to see her," he said.
His message reached Barbara exactly
as he had sent it, and her thoughts at
once flew to Victor. She came down
stairs with pleasurable anticipations at
her heart.
At the parlor door she beheld who
was waiting for her, and she paused for
a moment, while a chill of disappoint
ment fell upon her. It was not Victor,
not her hero, but the man, whom, of all
tbe world, she dreaded most. She en
tered the parlor, and bowed coldly.
There was a brief pause, and then a few
remarks that interested neither. Then
Valasquez unceremoniously plunged
headlong into that for which he had
come.
" Miss Llndsley," he cried, " I am
here to tell you again that I love you I
I love you so madly that I must speak."
The girl grew pale, but uttered not a
word.
" Miss Llndsley," the false master of
The Cedars continued, " will you be my
wife? I entreat you, by my love, to
answer that question differently from
what you did before I"
Barbara turned away her face.
"Speak," cried Valasquez.
" I answered you once," spoke tbe girl
at last, in a low, firm tone.
" But, Miss Llndsley, is your answer
the sameV"
"Yes."
"Is it final V"
" Yes."
"Miss Llndsley, bethink yourself,"
expostulated Valasquez. "I am the
wealthiest man in the country, and, as
you are aware, there is now no doubt
but that I will continue to be so."
Barbara sprang to her feet, losing her
fears in her anger.
" When I wed, if ever I do," she
cried, " I will marry a man that I love,
and not an estate."
And with a haughty bow she left
Valasquez alone.
- So much for the estimate he had plac
ed upon Barbara Lindsley's character.
His grand argument had fallen dead,
having the opposite effect to what he
had anticipated. '
Valasquez rushed from the house.
" Curse her ! curse her I curse her!"
was the angry cry of his raging soul,
as be mounted and rode away.
" She shall never marry any other
man t If she loves any other I shall slay
him. And if my love turns to hate, let
her beware !"
When he reached The Cedars, he sped
Bwlftly past.
" I believe I should suffocate now,
without motion to give me breath," he
ejaculated, as be continued on.
, And truly the soul of Valasquez was
in a whirl of disappointment, rage, and
Jealousy. Yet of whom should he be
Jealous t Only of a shadow, as yet.
" She must love somebody," was his
thought. " If she does, woe to Mm !"
It was after dark when he returned to
The Cedars, and entered the library. '
As he sat with the firelight gleaming
Out upon him, he kept muttering over
those words,
r "Curse her ! curse her! curse her! If
my love turns to hate, let her beware !"
At last a wild plan took shape in his
brain. He clasped his hand till his
own grip pained him.
"It Is possible," he ejaculated wild
ly ; "yes, possible. I should never be
suspected. She shall be mine yet."
" Slgnor," said a voice, " could you
give a poor woman lodglug V"
Valasquez started, and turned toward
the door. It had opened softly, and a
woman was standing there. She was
tall, having her face muffled. She ad
vanced a step, and closed .the door.
" Ha! ha! Siguor Valasquez, you need
not answer my query," she exclaimed.
"It was meant for a jest, nothing
more."
The man sprang to his feet in aston
ishment at hearing his own name
spoken. But he became calm instantly.
" Woman, you are strangely mistak
en," he said coldly. " My name is not
Valasquez , but Cashel."
"You He!" cried the creature passion
ately. Valasquex moved toward her, anger
swelling in his heart. But instantly
the gleaming barrel of a pistol looked
him in the face.
" Back, or die in your tracks," hissed
the woman. "I would as quickly slay
you as I would kill a serpent I"
Valasquez drew back. The woman
let the cloak that muffled her face fall
away.
"Slgnora Foscari!" burst involun
tarily from the Hps of Valasquez.
" You know me now, monster, I see,"
said the slgnora. " You have not for
gotten Elolsa, nor Eloisa's mother."
" Well, what do you want V he cried
harshly.
" What do I want 'I I have come,
Henri Valasquez, to let you know that
the avenger is on your track. Ha ! ha 1
my vengeance will be as sweet as your
doom is terrible."
Valasquez paled, and sank into a seat,
trembling.
" Woman, I tell you again that you
are mistaken in my identity," he said.
"And I say again, Henri Valasquez,
that you lie! You have condemned
yourself. How knew you my name?
But I needed not that to convince me,
though you call yourself Lionel Cashel,
the wealthy gentleman of thia great
property. You could never deceive my
heart, the heart of Eloisa's mother. It
has been a weary search I have had, but
I have found you at last, and I know
you.
" Ay, monster, it has been a weary
search, but bad it taken a score of years,
bad it taken. my lifetime, I would never
have ceased, and you unfound. And
had I died, and Elolsa unavenged, my
soul would have sought out yours in
the spirit-world, and blasted it with its
hate!
"I might slay you now," the woman
continued, after a moment's silence,
" but I have not come for that. Instead,
I have come to tell you that you are
doomed ; that a more hideous fate than
any of which you can dream is to be
yours. I might expose you to tbe
world, but, bah I that would be no pun
ishment compared with the end prepared
for you. O Henri Valasquez, villain,
assassin, demon, betrayer of innocence,
your doom is fixed ! I swear by all tbe
wrongs of my dead child that you shall
die a death terrible as my hatred for you
Is deep and strong and eternal !"
The woman opened the door of the
library, and slowly stepped back till she
disappeared.
The last thing that Henri Valasquez
beheld was the gleam of the pistol bar
rel. "I must conquer her," was bis
thought " I shall have to slay her, or
she will destroy me. Fate hag favored
me thus far, and will permit me to
outwit her. She must die!"
But many times during the night he
awoke with a shudder from dreams in
which a woman with wild, fierce face
bent over him, announcing a dreadful
doom, from which there was no way o(
escape. To be continued.