The Dead Letter: An American Romance - free ebook by Metta Victoria Fuller Victor

The Dead Letter

Page 183. THE PORTRAIT....

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CHAPTER I. THE LETTER.

I paused suddenly in my work. Over a year’s experience in the Dead Letter office had given a mechanical rapidity to my movements in opening, noting and classifying the contents of the bundles before me; and, so far from there being any thing exciting to the curiosity, or interesting to the mind, in the employment, it was of the most monotonous character. Young ladies whose love letters have gone astray, evil men whose plans have been confided in writing to their confederates, may feel but little

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CHAPTER II. EVENTS OF A NIGHT.

It was late in the afternoon of a cloudy, windy autumn day, that I left the office of John Argyll, Esq., in his company, to take tea and spend the evening in his family. I was a law-student in the office, and was favored with more than ordinary kindness by him, on account of a friendship that had existed between him and my deceased father. When young men, they had started out in life together, in equal circumstances; one had died early, just as fortune began to smile; the other lived to continue

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CHAPTER III. THE FIGURE BENEATH THE TREES.

As I came near the old Argyll mansion, it seemed to me never to have looked so fair before. The place was the embodiment of calm prosperity. Stately and spacious it rose from the lawn in the midst of great old oaks whose trunks must have hardened through a century of growth, and whose red leaves, slowly dropping, now flamed in the sunshine. Although the growing village had stretched up to and encircled the grounds, it had still the air of a country place, for the lawn was roomy and the gardens w

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CHAPTER IV. MORELAND VILLA.

Several minor circumstances prevented my going in search of the woman who had excited my suspicions on the previous day, until about nine o’clock of the morning, when I engaged an officer, and we two went quietly, without communicating our plans to any one else, to the tenement-house before spoken of. Although Blankville was not a large village, there was in it, as in nearly every town blessed with a railroad depot, a shabby quarter where the rougher portion of its working people lived. The hous

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CHAPTER V. MR. BURTON, THE DETECTIVE.

When I came out of the office, I encountered James on the steps, for the first time that day. I could not stop to make known the robbery to him, and telling him that his uncle wished to see him a few minutes, I hurried to my boarding-house, where I had barely time to take some lunch in my room, while packing a small bag to be sent to the cars, before hurrying back to Mr. Argyll’s to attend the funeral escort to the train. James and I were two of the eight pall-bearers, yet neither of us could su

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CHAPTER VI. TWO LINKS IN THE CHAIN.

We went up to Blankville that evening, arriving late. I confess that I felt a thrill as of cold steel, and peered over my shoulder as we walked up the hill from the depot; but my companion was guilty of no such weakness. He kept as sharp a lookout as the light of a setting moon would permit, but it was only with a view to making himself familiar with the premises. We passed the Argyll mansion on our way to my boarding-place; it was too late to call; the lights were extinguished, except the faint

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CHAPTER VII. ELEANOR.

One week, another—a third—a fourth, passed by. Our village was as if it had never been shaken by a fierce agitation. Already the tragedy was as if it had not been, except to the household whose fairest flower it had blighted. People no longer looked over their shoulders as they walked; the story now only served to enliven the history of the little place, when it was told to a stranger. Every thing that human energy could accomplish had been done to track the murder to its origin; yet not one ste

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CHAPTER VIII. THE HAUNTED GRAVE.

When I returned to my boarding-house that same evening, I found a telegram awaiting me from Mr. Burton, asking me to come down to the city in the morning. I went down by the earliest train, and, soon after, ringing the bell at the door of his private residence in Twenty-third street, a servant ushered me into the library, where I found the master of the house so absorbed in thought, as he sat before the grate with his eyes bent upon the glowing coals, that he did not observe my entrance until I

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CHAPTER IX. THE SPIDER AND THE FLY.

“Come,” said my cicerone, “we are already very late.” A rapid walk of a few minutes brought us to the entrance of a handsome house, having the appearance of a private residence, and standing on a fashionable street. “Why,” said I, inclined to draw back, as he ascended the steps, “you surely would not think of disturbing the people here at this hour of the night? There is not a light to be seen, even in the chambers.” Mr. Burton’s low laugh made me blush at my own “greenness.” His ring at the bel

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CHAPTER X. THE ANNIVERSARY.

I have said that I expected Mr. Argyll to offer me a partnership, now that I was prepared to begin my legal career. In this I was not presumptuous, inasmuch as he had frequently and plainly hinted his intention. Such an arrangement would be a desirable one for me; I appreciated its many advantages; at the same time, I expected, by taking all the hard work upon myself, and by the constant devotion of such talent as I had to the interests of the firm, to repay, as far as possible, my obligations t

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CHAPTER XI. THE LITTLE GUEST AND THE APPARITION.

I went to Mr. Argyll’s to the Christmas dinner. I was surprised to meet Eleanor in the family group; for, though she now frequently joined the home circle, I thought that on this holiday her own loss would press upon her with overwhelming weight. Instead of this, I saw a light in her countenance which it had never before worn; her face, totally devoid of smiles or color, yet shone with a serene and solemn luster, the most touching, the most saddening, and yet elevating, of any expression I had e

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CHAPTER XII. THE NIGHT IN MORELAND VILLA.

Mr. Burton’s arrival prevented my fulfilling the intention of sleeping at Moreland villa that night; I immediately resolved to defer my explorations until he could keep me company. The next day he came to my room, and we had, as usual when we met, a long talk over things past, present and to come. I did not introduce the subject of the mystery at the villa until we had discussed many other matters. My companion was preoccupied with important business of his own—the same which had taken him to Bo

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CHAPTER XIII. THE SHADOW ASSUMES SHAPE.

We now lighted our lamp, and, finding a light cane sofa in the hall, nearly opposite the locked door, we took seats, and kept ourselves awake by talking. The storm had subsided into the monotonous patter of a steady rain. “I am surprised,” said Mr. Burton, “that you did not at once comprehend the secret of this house. The moment you spoke the word ‘haunted,’ I knew how our investigations would end. It solved a mystery which has bothered me for some time. I knew that Leesy Sullivan was here, in t

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CHAPTER I. THE LETTER.

The reader can now understand why it was that I turned cold with excitement as I sat there in the dead-letter office, holding the time-stained epistle in my hand. Every word burned itself into my brain. Obscure as it was—non-committal—directed to an unknown person of a neighboring village—I yet felt assured that those vague hints had reference to the sinful tragedy which had occurred October 17th, 1857. Here was placed in my hands—at last!—a clue to that mystery which I had once sworn to unravel

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CHAPTER II. OUR VISITS.

So engrossed were we by our plans, which we were laboring to get into shape, that we forgot the passing hours and the demands of appetite. It was long past the lunch hour when a servant appeared to ask if he should not bring in the tray, having waited in vain for the usual summons. With its appearance Lenore came in, the same lovely, sylph-like little creature, but looking rather less fragile than when I saw her last. At the sight of me, her color went and came—one instant she hesitated, then ap

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CHAPTER III. THE CONFESSION.

In the afternoon we paid Miss Sullivan a visit. It was the first time I had met her since that strange night of watching at Moreland villa; and I confess that I could not meet her without an inward shudder of abhorrence. Unbounded as was my respect and confidence for Mr. Burton, I did think that he had erred in his conclusions as to the character of this woman; or else that he concealed from me his real opinions, for some purpose to be explained at the proper time. If he still had suspicions, it

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CHAPTER IV. EMBARKED FOR CALIFORNIA.

We were on our way to California by the next steamer. By the advice of Mr. Burton I purchased my ticket under an assumed name, for he did not wish to excite the curiosity of the Argylls, who might happen to see the passage-list, and who would be sure to suspect something from the contiguity of our names. To his friends, who chanced to know of his sudden intentions, Mr. Burton represented that the health of his daughter demanded a change of climate, and business matters had led him to prefer Cali

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CHAPTER V. ON THE TRAIL.

I need not dwell at much length upon our visit to San Francisco, since nothing important to the success of our enterprise came of it. From the hour we entered the Golden Gate till we departed through it, I was restless with a solicitude which made me nervous and sleepless, destroyed my appetite, and blinded me to half the novelties of San Francisco, with its unparalleled growth and hybrid civilization. I gave the most of my time to two objects—looking, by night, into all the bad, popular, or out

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CHAPTER VI. AT LAST—AT LAST.

As our ship steered away out into the open sea, Mr. Burton walked up into the ruinous old Spanish town, and stopped at the hotel, in whose breezy corridor he found several of his traveling companions, who had preceded him. These persons had been somewhat surprised at his desertion of the rest of his party for a visit to their decayed city; but when he explained to them his desire of visiting some of their deserted mines, and examining the character of the mountainous region, a little back, befor

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CHAPTER VII. NOW FOR HOME AGAIN.

Dr. Seltzer and his scientific friend returned down the mountain, reaching the flowery carriage-way which led up to the mansion about four P. M. ; but here the former suddenly whirled his horse and set off toward Acapulco, at his utmost speed. Mr. Burton did not fire at him, to stop him; if he wished to run away from the horrible exposure which he had not the courage to face, it was no longer any business of the detective. This very flight would prove his guilt the more incontestably. It was wit

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CHAPTER VIII. THE RIPE HOUR.

I arose from my sleepless bed to face this, the most memorable day of my life. Whether I ate or drank, I know not; but I noticed that Mr. Burton’s countenance wore a peculiar, illuminated look, as if his soul was inwardly rejoicing over a victory gained. However, there was still preoccupation in it, and some perplexity. Immediately after breakfast, he proposed to go out, saying, “Richard, remain here a couple of hours with Lenore, until I find out whether Miss Sullivan is dead or alive. I should

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CHAPTER IX. JOINING THE MISSING LINKS.

The scene which transpired in the next few minutes was harrowing. The revulsion of feeling, the shock, the surprise and the horror were almost too much for human nature to bear. Groan after groan burst from Mr. Argyll, as if his breast were being rent in twain. Mary tottered to her sister and threw herself at her feet, with her head buried in her lap; if she had not been so healthily organized, and of such an even temperament, I know not how she would have survived this frightful check to her ho

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CHAPTER X. THE NEW LIFE.

The winter passed away quietly. The sudden absence of James Argyll caused much harmless gossip in the village. It was reported, and generally believed, that he had gone abroad, on a tour to Egypt, because Miss Argyll had jilted him. Fortunately, the arrangements for the wedding were known to but few, the feelings of the family having inclined toward a very quiet affair. The little woman who had prepared the wedding-dress was a New York milliner, who probably never learned that the wedding was no

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