Part 46

Looking back upon it now, I don't see why I was startled at this. But I was. Perhaps it was because of the frequent repetition of the word "will;" but so it was at any rate; and I thought I had a clew at last. "His Continental Friend"?----

"O, I have it! The Continental Hotel is a place of rendezvous. I'll watch and wait."

This much decided, I turned in reverie upon the beautiful Nellie, and felt more than usual joy in the prospect of being of avail to her, and, I confess, not a little ugly towards William, whom, what I had seen of him had led me to despise. But he was a fellow of some ability, and must have been the prompter of the work of abstraction; and, having money at times, might have corrupted one of the clerks into his interest. Thus I reflected, till I became, indeed, convinced. At the Continental I resolved to be, at the time appointed in the advertisement, or before.

I was on hand at an early hour, watching all that passed. The time went on very sluggishly, and I was getting nervous. A quiet stealthy-looking person came in at last, and ordered a room for the night. I watched the number on the register; and posting myself on the street, being partially disguised, I waited till William should come, which he did, in a half-intoxicated mood. He scanned the register in a maudlin way, and sent up his card to the room, which, as good luck would have it, was on the topmost floor, so crowded was the hotel that night.

The servant who bore the card returned, saying,--

"He says, 'Send the gentleman up.'"

I waited till the clumsy steps of William sounded as from on the second flight, when I quietly followed, increasing my pace as I neared him; so that I was near upon him when the door opened.

"Halloo, Wilson! Here all right! Well, I'm more than glad to see you!" exclaimed the inmate, as Wilson entered, and the door closed.

Tripping to the door, I listened, and heard William quite distinctly, his cups having added emphasis to his somewhat gruff voice.

"Well, Mr. Roberts, my very legs tremble, for I feared it might not be you here after all. I'd most forgot the name we'd agreed on for the register, but I knew your handwriting. _Was_ it Hyde? I thought it was Hood we'd fixed on. But no matter now. Here you are, and that's enough."

Instantly that I heard the name Roberts, I knew it must be the attorney's chief clerk, for he had spoken of this clerk as having been longest in his employ, and you can well understand how I became at once all ears.

"But you have that important paper all secure?"

"Of course I have, or I wouldn't have advertised. I feared you might have left New York, and wouldn't get the notice in time."

"But how did you get it--and when? Tell me the story, my brave boy," said William, with the patronizing voice of a new-made millionnaire.

"Never mind now--tell you some other time. It's enough, isn't it, that it's here?"

"All right, then. Let's take up the 'business in order,' as they say in Congress. How much shall I give you for that precious will?"

"It _is_ a 'precious' document, I assure you, Mr. Wilson," said the scheming Roberts. "Do you know its provisions?"

"Yes, I know all about it; or all that's important; for luckily I overheard most of it read. My blessed father left everything of consequence to my cousin Nellie; but, ah! ha! that will's got to be probated, and who's to do it? That fireplace" (pointing to the grate in the room) "will tell no tale, and here's matches. But fix your terms--what shall I give you for the document?"

"One hundred dollars down, for I am about visiting my old home in Canada, and want a little more ready cash; and say, if you don't think it's too much, your promissory note, made negotiable, but with a private agreement back from me that you shall not be pressed to pay it till you get in full possession of your estate, for ten thousand dollars."

"A _little_ 'steep'--aren't you, Roberts? But you are a brave fellow, and it shall be done! Here's ink, I see, and here's paper," said William, fumbling his pocket evidently for an old scrap, for he seemed to meet delays. "There, there's the note--now your agreement."

Papers rustled lightly on the table, and "All right," said Roberts; "there's the document, read it at your leisure, and do what you like with it."

At this point, in my eagerness, I had bent lower down by the door, and discovered a small, old keyhole, for the door had been evidently newly trimmed with locks, through which I could see with some distinctness.

William read over the will; and with many oaths, and in his delirium of success, losing sense of caution, half shouted, as he swung the document in the air at the tip of his fingers, and half danced about the room:--

"There, now! my blessed, sweet little child, cousin Nellie, you're outwitted--and--you--are--in--my power! Love me, and tell me so, or you shall beg. No! I vow I'll buy your graces. I'll bring you to my feet, but I will never marry you! Confound you! Roberts, give me a match."

Roberts plunged his hand into his vest pocket, and drew out a portable safe, took a match therefrom, and struck it, handing it to William, whose hand trembled in the flush of victory, as he touched it to the paper.

The unwise fellows had neglected to bolt the door,--probably from the fact of being on the highest flight,--so I had not the obstacle of a lock to overcome, as I quickly turned the knob, and rushed in upon the astonished pair, and snatched the paper from William's hand while only a corner of it was burned.

"Ah, you scamps!" I exclaimed, "I am in the nick of time, it seems. You are caught in the last and important act. Do you think there's no God in heaven to watch over innocents like your cousin Nellie?"

The look of stupid horror which the countenances of Roberts and William Wilson revealed, remains as fresh on my mind as if it were only yesterday that I surprised them.

I lost no time in getting the will safely into my pocket, and bade them defiance. Roberts rushed out of the room, as if he had been shot, and from that hour the strictest search in Philadelphia couldn't discover him. Nobody knows where he went. As for William, he was too much overcome to stir, and I left the room with him in it; and I didn't sleep that night till I had relieved myself of the possession of the will, placing it in the attorney's hands.

Of course Miss Nellie had no trouble in getting possession of her property, but she would not allow her now penitent and subdued cousin to be pursued at the law for his nefarious conspiracy. Indeed, she gave him nearly double the amount his father had provided in annuity. However, it didn't serve him long; for in less than six months from that time, while partially intoxicated, and driving a fractious horse, he was thrown from the carriage, and so injured on the head that his broken constitution could not recover from the shock, and he died in a few days.

And now comes what to me is the most cheerful part of the story. One day, a couple of years after that eventful night, being here, and meeting by chance a handsome cousin of mine, Dr. Charles R., of St. Louis, who had just returned from Europe, where he had pursued his medical studies, in Vienna, and having only a short time to spend with him, for I was obliged to be off early next morning, I ventured to ask him to accompany me to the home of Nellie, for she had bidden me to always call on her when in Philadelphia. We went. She _is_ very handsome, and so is cousin Charles, and I reckon both discovered this fact of the other instantly, and appreciated it, for Nellie, though very kind and courteous to me, managed to occupy herself mostly in entertaining "the stranger."

To cut the story short, we left the house duly.

"Why, John,"--for that is my name,--"why didn't you tell me beforehand what a glorious creature you were going to see? I'd been a little more particular about my dress, or probably refused to accompany you," said cousin Charles, half complainingly, as we got well out of doors.

"Ah! ah! Charley,--aren't you glad, on the whole, though?" said I, touching him under the chin, "that I _didn't_ tell you, my boy?"

"Indeed--no--yes--well, I don't know as I care, after all; but _isn't_ she elegant. And if I'm any reader of human nature she's as good as she is beautiful."

I saw that he was thoroughly "smitten;" and as we went on to my hotel, narrated to him the story of the will. The romance of the thing served to engage him the more. Well, I needn't repeat all. They loved, and were married, and are the happiest couple out of heaven, I reckon.

Such was my room-mate's tale, for which I thanked him, and we both then managed to sleep thereafter. But perhaps the reader will have curiosity to know what was the peculiar advertisement which had drawn me to Philadelphia at that time.

It was this:--

"_Astor discounts, Wednesday, the 9th. So does Independence Hall._

RUDOLPH, Cashier."

"Astor" I had read by contrary. It meant "Girard," I thought,--Girard Bank. "Independence Hall" I construed as signifying a place of meeting in front of that building; and "Rudolph"--for this was the point--was a notorious bank robber, on whose track I wished to get, by the name of Ralph Seeker, among his "aliases," but Ralph was his real name--"Rudolph" being the German for the same; and doubtless I was right in my translation; but as nothing came of that, as I have said before, I here leave "peculiar advertisements" in general, to the unravelling of the curious. But it is a science of itself, which, in its subtleties, sometimes baffles the keenest wits. I am prompted, as I write, to add hereto, for the pleasure of the curious reader, sundry of the "blind methods" (in advertisements usually) by which one scoundrel intimates to another his whereabouts, and what he has accomplished, or where he would meet another to aid in some crime, etc., under circumstances which forbid their communicating through the mail or by telegraph. But I have hardly room in this article, already too long.

COLONEL NOVENA, THE PRINCE OF CONFIDENCE MEN.

THE CONFIDENCE MAN, PAR EXCELLENCE; A REAL "ARTIST"--"COLONEL NOVENA," "COUNT ANTONELLI," "GENERAL ALVEROSA," "SIR RICHARD MURRAY" MAKES A VISIT--A MAN OF GREAT NATURAL ABILITY, WITH "A SCREW LOOSE"--A BIT OF "PHILOSOPHY" (?)--THE MAN DESCRIBED, VERSATILE, AGILE, BRAVE, DARING--THE COLONEL AS A GALLANT--CURIOUS TALE ABOUT TWO SISTERS AND COLONEL NOVENA--PRESIDENT BUCHANAN, PROFESSOR HENRY, GENERAL FREMONT, AND MR. SEWARD OF THE NUMBER OF HIS FRIENDS--DISHONEST WAYS OF DOING "LEGITIMATE BUSINESS"--A SHOCKING BAD MEMORY--THE COLONEL AS A PHILANTHROPIST--COMES TO GRIEF--AT WASHINGTON, D. C.--SARATOGA TEMPTS THE COLONEL--HIS SUCCESSES THERE--A CHANGE OF CIRCUMSTANCES--A VALUABLE DIAMOND NECKLACE LOST--THE GREAT MYSTERY--THE HISTORIC CHARACTER OF THE NECKLACE--THOROUGH SEARCHING--THE SHREWDEST SCAMPS GENERALLY HAVE BETTER REPUTATIONS THAN MOST PEOPLE--TOO GOOD A "CHARACTER" A MATTER OF SUSPICION--"MR. HENRY INMAN, ARTIST," IS CREATED--HEADWAY MADE--THE NECKLACE COMES TO LIGHT, IN THE POSSESSION OF A MOST REMARKABLE WOMAN--GOODNESS IN BAD PLACES--A LIVING MORAL PARADOX--AN "UNFORTUNATE" GOOD SAMARITAN--THE GENERAL'S SENSE OF HONOR WOUNDED--TO CANADA--DOWN THE RAPIDS OF THE ST. LAWRENCE--A TOMB IN GREENWOOD--RENDERING TO WOMAN HER DUE--A BLESSED CHARITY--WALL STREET CORRUPTS THE MORALS OF THE NATION.

"Confidence men," in the usual way, are so common,--such as the fellows who drop pocket-books, stuffed with counterfeit money, in the streets of cities, in order that innocent countrymen or uninitiated foreigners may pick them up, and divide the spoils with an up-coming witness, and give him all their good money in order to have a large share in the poor or counterfeit money,--that I have hesitated a moment over the caption I should give this narrative, lest the reader should think I am about to introduce to him one of those common, every-day affairs. But, on reflection, I cannot think of a more appropriate title than I have chosen, for Colonel Novena _was_, of all the rogues and scoundrels I have encountered in my professional life, the confidence man, _par excellence_, as the French would say, not by the "excellence" of his high character, to be sure, or his moral worth, but by his artistic superiority.

The public will recollect, or such of them as enjoy retentive memories of names will do so, how much was said some years ago, by the public press, for a few days, about a certain Cuban, a "Colonel Novena," "Count Antonelli," "General Alverosa," and "Sir Richard Murray,"--for by these names, as well as sundry others, was this gentleman in his career known. His true name, as definitely as I could ever learn, was Julian Cinquez; but even that is doubtful, and it matters not. He was a man of brilliant talents, indeed, great native ability; and the wonder is that he did not attach himself to some honorable profession, or follow some pursuit in life recognized as legitimate; for he could not only have adorned any profession which he might have adopted, but he might have made an extensive fortune as well--or so we are apt to say of like characters. Yet, to confess the truth, I am not so certain that our moral reflections upon these matters are correct. The fact that the man did not lead the life which his talents apparently indicated that he might, is perhaps evidence in itself that the world might misjudge him. He might not have been able to "adorn any profession" after all, for in such men's characters, there is obviously always "a screw loose;" and for want of fixedness or tightness of that same "screw," is it, perhaps, that the general machine will not work. That may be the philosophy of the matter.

Colonel Novena was no small man in his way. He was a handsome man, too, possessing a finely-shaped face, with large, dark, not quite black eyes, and eyelashes such as would arouse the enthusiasm of the master painters, and which gave to those eyes that sweet, alluring expression so irresistible to women; or when reflecting the light of anger from them, added a twofold horror to their expression, enough to make the strongest men quail, for the man then seemed a very demon. The colonel was about five feet ten inches in height, elegantly proportioned, his form being, perhaps, as nearly perfect, in every respect, as any man on the wide globe could boast of. Grace, dignity, and strength combined in it, and when at all aroused or excited, Colonel Novena was as lithe and flexible as a cat, or better, perhaps, a tiger. Notwithstanding the classic outlines of his face, it possessed great mobility,--and having a comical vein in his nature, Colonel Novena could imitate anything, from the grimace of a pretty, simpering girl, to the Falstaffian stolidity of a Dutch judge, and was one of the most excellent of story-tellers, in consequence. In short, Colonel Novena possessed all the talents and natural "gifts" necessary to make a man the most acceptable companion under any circumstances. He won his way easily into everybody's heart, whom he considered worth his notice, either socially or business-wise; by which I mean, whom he regarded as of consequence enough to be exploited upon or victimized; and he had a way of exciting the sympathy of even officers of the law, when they felt conscious of his guilt; and I dare say that there has seldom ever existed a man so competent to play the _rôle_ of "Injured Innocence," as was Colonel Novena. It is not surprising then that he ran so long a career of forgery and false pretence of all kinds.

Colonel Novena knew the art of dressing well. He was never over-dressed,--a fault of villains of his kind generally. He was never too poorly dressed for the special business he had in hand. His _rôle_ of the gentleman of leisure and wealth was incomparably well taken; and being thoroughly educated, he acted the part of the literary _savant_ to perfection. On the prairies or frontier, he was the most daring and hardy of backwoodsmen, and compelled the admiration of his fellow-travellers or hunters for his daring and prowess. He was a genius, in fine, socially. He seemed to need no "credentials" anywhere, save his fine manners and honest-looking face. Yet he always took care to secure the best letters of introduction everywhere, and had his trunks full of such things, given him by the great men of the land, such as President Buchanan, General Fremont, Professor Henry, Chief Justice Taney, Corcoran the banker, Mr. Seward, Andrew Johnson, etc.; for he obtained them from leading statesmen of all sorts of political faiths, from men of science, and from leading financiers, and did not hesitate to demand the like of the most notable ladies of the land.

Why Colonel Novena never condescended to marry some one (or more, perhaps), of the ladies of great wealth whom he numbered among his admirers, is a mystery to me, for there was not one of them who would not have been proud to own him as her husband. But perhaps the colonel had some valid reason for remaining a bachelor, or for assuming to be one; for there is no certainty, of course, that he had not a wife somewhere, or that in several parts of the world (for he had travelled all over it) there might not have been found many ladies, each one of whom might have claimed him. However, it is probable that such was not the case, for "murder" of that kind "will out" in time, as well as the real article of homicide, and I was never able to learn that the colonel was married.

As an example of the wonderful fascinations of the colonel, it may not be improper to relate here a tale, told me by one who was once on terms of intimacy with the schemer when he figured in Fifth Avenue society, and who vouched for the truth of it, as largely based on his own observations of the colonel's course with the ladies in question.

There were two sisters, the one a middle-aged widow, very rich, and quite good-looking; the other, much younger, very beautiful, but without money--poor, in fact. The latter was very gifted as a colloquist, and was a charming woman of society. The former was also a lady of many accomplishments. The parents of these ladies were dead, and the elder and rich one had assumed the guardianship of the younger, who lived with her, for she kept up her house after her husband's death, and lived in great style. The colonel made the acquaintance of the elder at a fashionable party in Madison Avenue one night; and learning that she was very rich, was, of course, sufficiently charmed with her to seek admittance to her house, which he duly effected. Calling upon the widow, he met her dazzlingly beautiful young sister. The colonel was in a dilemma; and it appears that he thought his only way out of it was to make love to both.

The sequel of the story is, that Colonel Novena so adroitly managed his addresses to these ladies, and gained such power over them, that neither dared disclose to the other the colonel's engagement to her, each sister enjoying, in her strictly secret heart, the sense of a sweet victory over the other; and in order to not expose her secret by receiving the colonel alone too frequently, often asking the other's presence on the colonel's calls.

Indeed, so fascinated did they become with the colonel, that they often visited his bachelor's quarters together, and there, in his library, spent hours at a time with him, reading, chatting, partaking of wine, and so forth.

They were almost without restriction in their affectionate caressing of the "dear colonel" in each other's presence; for what of jealousy should either feel towards her sister, when she held in her heart the sacred truth that _she_ herself was dearer to the colonel than her sister? This complication of affairs continued for several months, the parties meeting daily. The colonel had, of course, persuaded each that the usual announcement of an engagement should be foregone in _this_ instance, for some wily, but apparently good reason, which he gave; and the gossips were at a loss to discover which of the two ladies he loved the more, so they "married" him to neither for a certainty.

But finally an end came to the duplex affair, and the sisters told the "secret" to each other; and the colonel was upbraided by them both one evening when he called on them. It is said, however, that notwithstanding the colonel's dishonorable course, either of the sisters would have been glad to secure him. But the colonel was now in a dilemma again, out of which there was no such sweet escape as before. The beautiful lady he did not want as an "incumbrance," and the "other charmer" could not fully command him, with all her riches, without the society of the more brilliant one too, which he knew he could not have if married to the former; for the colonel well knew what tyrants most women are to their husbands when they have them in their power, and he preferred his freedom to the slavery of a "boughten" husband's position.

The colonel was a bit of a social philosopher, and often "put things" in novel and clever ways. It was a saying of his, I was told, that "the condition of the average husband is the most comical and pitiable to be conceived--a slave to his wife or his family; a creature subject to all sorts of indignities at home, and not allowed to go abroad." "A model husband," said he, "is in these days little more, at best, than the gentlemanly butler or purveyor for his own house; has the privilege of paying all the bills, bearing all the burdens, etc., while his wife and family feel as 'grateful' as pigs at their dinner." Of course the colonel had in mind only the wives and families of fashionable circles.

The colonel's weakness was for "trading," in all sorts of ways, but especially in matters of considerable importance, such as in real estate, rich merchandise, ships, and stocks, as far as he could in the last. He made a good deal of money, in a manner which was legitimate enough, too, on the outside, but which always proved tricky. For example, going into a place like Milwaukie, Wis., he readily got himself reputed as a man of great wealth; would contract to purchase three or four adjacent building lots on some valuable site, at some future time,--say, three months thereafter,--for he always was about to send home (to Cuba) for his money. The owner would enter into a written contract to convey the property to Colonel Novena, or his assigns, at the time named, for a given sum for each lot. It was immediately noised about that the colonel was going to build a splendid mansion on one of these lots, and keep the rest for a grand lawn. Everybody talked about it, and the colonel, being an architect as well as everything else, produced drawings of the intended stately palace. The citizens were all very anxious to have so wealthy and tasteful a man settle in their midst.

By and by it was announced that the colonel had changed his mind. His mansion was to be put up at some other point, but upon two of the building lots he was going to erect an extensive block for stores, offices, and so forth, and the other two lots were to be sold.

These he would manage to sell for a very considerable advance above the price contracted for, as the new block was going to make them vastly valuable. Of course the purchaser must take them before the time ran out; otherwise the colonel, as he did not then want them, and scorned to be a mere real estate speculator, would relinquish his claim to them to the owner, but since he had gotten control of them, might as well ask something for their increased value.