The Bride of the Tomb, and Queenie's Terrible Secret

"But the wicked deceiver was proof against his enemy's bullet. He was born to be hung, you see, sir, and he was proof against anything else.

"So he got well, and was clear out of the country before poor Jennie was on her feet again. She was sorely disappointed, but she bided her time."

Captain Ernscliffe began to look as if he took an interest in the history of the farmer's pretty daughter.

"She sought for him everywhere as far as her money would carry her," went on the detective, "but she never saw or heard of her enemy.

"At length her mother came to the city with her, and together they continued their unrelenting quest, for they both had sworn to take a terrible revenge upon the destroyer of innocence."

He paused a moment, and Captain Ernscliffe, half forgetful of his own troubles in this sorrowful story, exclaimed:

"Go on, Kidder. I am very much interested in Jennie Thorn's sad story."

"One night they went to the theater," continued the detective, "and there they saw upon the stage the beautiful lady that is now your wife."

"Ah!" exclaimed Captain Ernscliffe, with a start.

"Yes, sir; you begin to get an inkling of things now," said Kidder. "Well, to go on, Jennie Thorn recognized the lady. She had seen her before, and knew that the man who had wronged her was an enemy of Madame De Lisle. She knew that they hated each other, and that he had sworn to take a terrible revenge upon her. Well, sir, in that minute Jennie Thorn began to see what would be her own best chance to find her betrayer again."

Captain Ernscliffe was growing too excited to keep his seat. He rose and paced up and down the room, his arms folded over his broad breast, his burning gaze fixed on the detective's shrewd, intelligent face.

"She knew that the man would follow Madame De Lisle like her evil genius, and she determined to keep near the beautiful actress. The next day she disguised herself as an elderly woman, changed her name, and went into your wife's service as her maid."

Captain Ernscliffe gazed at him silently. He began to comprehend now.

"There's little more to tell, sir. Jennie left her mother in the United States and followed Madame De Lisle across the ocean.

"At first the actress had an old couple of actors with her—the same that adopted her and taught her their profession—but they both died.

"The old man sickened first and died, and his wife soon followed him to the grave.

"Then the actress grew attached to Jennie, and would not have parted with her for anything.

"Her middle-aged appearance was a protection to the young lady who was so beautiful and so lonely, and she never suspected that her elderly maid was other than what she seemed.

"Jennie was contented to remain with her; but though she followed her like a shadow she never saw her base betrayer until the night of the murder.

"That night a small boy came to the dressing-room with that fatal letter.

"It was so unusual an occurrence that Jennie stealthily followed him out and saw where he had gone.

"Hidden behind the curtains of a window, she watched the man outside the western door.

"Almost at the moment that she recognized him she saw him spring to the door.

"She parted the curtains and saw the steel flashing in his hand, to be buried the next moment in the heart of the woman coming up to him."

He paused a moment at Captain Ernscliffe's hollow groan; then continued:

"Jennie told me that the wild scream of anguish that rose the next moment nearly broke her heart.

"She thought it was her dear, kind mistress whom he had killed, and she was filled with the fury of the tigress.

"She sprang over the fallen body, and followed the murderer, who was hurrying away.

"She caught him by the arm, and fastened her teeth in his arm.

"He shook her off and ran away. She sprang after him.

"She followed him to a house, but he escaped from it, or eluded her somehow, and she took quarters in the vicinity, and was watching the place when I found her.

"With the information she gave me I succeeded in tracing him further, and finally we tracked him down.

"He is at this moment in prison, and if he gets his dues he will swing from the gallows right speedily. A blacker-hearted villain never walked upon the earth."

There was silence for a time, and then the detective added:

"When I landed herein this city, with Jennie in my charge, we found that her mother was dead.

"The poor girl has not a friend on earth, and she has promised to marry me to-day, and after the trial is over she will return to England with me.

"She is a good, sweet, true girl, and I don't bear any grudge against her because she has suffered from the arts of a villain through her too confiding innocence."

"You have my congratulations, my fine fellow," said Captain Ernscliffe, heartily. "But do you know that you have forgotten to tell me the name of the man who murdered my poor Sydney?"

"Why, really, have I neglected to mention his name? You must excuse me, Captain Ernscliffe, for it is one of the traits of my profession to be chary of mentioning names. The man belongs right here in this city, and is a notorious gambler and rogue. He is as handsome as a prince, as wicked as the devil, and his name is Leon Vinton."

CHAPTER XLI

"If there be any whom you have not yet forgiven; if there be any wrong you yet may right, let not the sun go down upon your wrath, my son, for verily, you must forgive as you would be forgiven. Upon no less terms than these can you win the pardon and absolution of Heaven."

It was the voice of the solemn, black-robed priest, and he stood in the gloomy cell of a convicted murderer, who, before the sunset of another day was to expiate his terrible sin by a felon's death.

Even now from the gloomy prison-yard outside could be heard the awful sound of the hammers driving the nails into his scaffold.

Upon the low, cot bed reclined the handsome demon whom we have known in our story as Leon Vinton.

Wasted and worn in his coarse prison garb and clanking fetters, there was still much of that princely beauty left that had lured youth and innocence to their deadly ruin.

But the reckless, Satanic smile was gone from his pallid, marble-like features now, and a glance of anguished terror and dread shone forth from his hollow, black eyes.

Like many another wretched sinner in his dying hour, Leon Vinton was afraid of the vengeance of that God whom he had despised and defied all his wicked life.

All day the priests had been with him, praying, chanting, exhorting, and now the chilly, gloomy December day was fading to its close, and the long, dreary night hurried on—his last night upon the beautiful earth, through which he had walked as a destroying demon, scattering the fire-brand of ruin and remorse along his evil pathway.

"And now he feels, and yet shall know,
In realms where guilt shall end no gloom,
The perils of inflicted woe,