CHAPTER VII.

"WHERE IS THE CHILD OF GULIAN VAN HUYDEN?"

"In the early part of the evenin' I left him in this very house, in company with a gal named Frank,--"

The judge interrupted him,--"Bring in the prisoner!" he shouted, and the eleven shuffled into the room, escorting the little gentleman in Turkish jacket and trowsers: "Draw near sir," he beckoned to Ninety-One, "attend this man from this house,--" he pointed to Yorke, "and do with him as I direct you,--thus--" he communicated his directions to Ninety-One, in a rapid tone, broken by emotion, and inaudible to the eleven, "and you gentlemen,--" to the eleven,--"already have your instructions."

He paused and then clutched Ninety-One by the hand, the convict endeavoring, although vainly, to gain a glimpse of his features,--"In this house with Frank did you say?" his voice was husky.

"In this house, with a gal named Frank," answered Ninety-One.

The judge stepped hastily from the platform, and his steps trembling as he went, disappeared through a side door, his hands clasped over his breast.

Israel Yorke found himself alone with Ninety-One and the eleven gentlemen with clubs. Ninety-One addressed him in a tone of cheerful politeness:

"Come, old cock, you and me's got to travel," he said, covering Israel's right shoulder with his huge hand.

Israel, biting his lips with illy suppressed rage, could not help venting the bitterness of his soul, in a single word,--

"Devil," he hissed the word between his set teeth.

"Well, I am a devil Isr'el," answered Ninety-One good humoredly, "an' you're another. But you see there's two kind o' devils. I'll explain it to you. Once a little sneak of a devil came up to the head devil, (this happened in the lower regions,) and offered to take his arm, 'you're one devil, and I'm another, and so we're ekle,' says the little sneak of a devil. Now the head devil did not like this. He says, says he, to the little sneak, 'There's two kind o' devils, young gen'leman. There's me, for instance,--when I fell from Heaven. I showed _pluck_ anyhow, and fell like a devil, and went about makin' _stump speeches_ in the lower regions. But you,--you,--what was you doing meanwhile? Sneakin' out o' Heaven with your carpet-bag full of gold bricks, which you had stolen from the gold pavement.' Now Isr'el the name of the first devil was Beelzebub, and the little sneak of a devil was called, Mammon. Do you take?"

The eleven gentlemen with clubs, received this elegant apologue, with evident pleasure, manifesting their delight by a unanimous burst of laughter.

Israel said nothing, but evidently was absorbed in a multitude of reflections, not altogether of the most pleasant character.

In a short time, once more arrayed in his every-day attire he left the Temple, accompanied by Ninety-One, and followed by the eleven.

Hastening from the "Court of Ten Millions," his hands clasped tightly over his breast, and his steps trembling as he went, THE JUDGE was determined, at all hazards, to obtain an immediate interview with Frank. Hurrying along a dark passage, and then down the dark stairway,--for the lights had been extinguished, and the Temple was dark and silent as the tomb,--the judge muttered frequently the words "in this house,--in this house!" and then exclaimed,--"O, he cannot, cannot escape me! The hand of fate has led him hither."

He opened a door, and entered the magnificent apartment, in which, in the early part of the evening, Tarleton feasted with his friends, while at the head of the table, sat the corse of Evelyn Somers. Now all was dark and silent there.

The judge lost no time, but retraced his steps and hurried up-stairs. He presently entered the Central Chamber, where a few candles burned to their sockets, shed their pale and uncertain light, over the pictures and the mirrors, the tables coveted with flowers, and the lofty ceiling supported by marble pillars. When last we saw the Central Chamber, it was all life and motion; warm pulses were throbbing, bright eyes flashing there. Then gay and varied costumes glittered in the light, and each voluptuous recess, echoed to the sighs of passion. Now the scene presented that saddest of all spectacles,--the decaying lights of a festival, emitting their last dim gleam, upon the faded splendors of the forsaken festal hall. Popes, Caliphs, Cardinals, Quakeresses, Knights, Nymphs and Houris, all were gone. The place was silent as the grave, and much more sad.

A single form walked slowly up and down the silent hall,--a woman, whose noble person was attired in black velvet, her dark hair falling to her shoulders, and a white cross clustering on her brow. Her hands dropped listlessly by her side, and her dark eyes dilating in their sockets, were fixed in a vacant stare.

"Frank, I must speak with you at once, and on a subject of life and death," cried the judge, suddenly confronting her. Even as he spoke, he was startled at the unnatural pallor of her face. "To-night a young man, in whose history I am fearfully interested, entered this house, and saw you in your chamber. He is now here," he continued impetuously,--"I must see him."

"You mean the lost son of Gulian Van Huyden?" she calmly said, pausing in her walk, and folding her arms over her breast.

"He _was_ here then," cried the judge, evidently wild with agitation, "nay he is here now."

"He was here half an hour ago," returned Frank, who, pre-occupied with her own thoughts, did not seem to notice the agitation of the Judge,--"half an hour ago he left the house."

"Left the house? Whither has he gone?"

"I know not."

"Child, child, you mock me," in his agitation he seized her wrist,--"I must see this boy, it is upon a matter of life and death. For God's sake do not trifle with me."

"I tell you, that he left the house half an hour ago," returned Frank, "and as I hope to have peace in the hour of my death, I do not know whither he has gone."

The solemnity of her tone impressed the judge.

"But will he return?"

"He will never return,--never!" she answered, and it seemed to the judge, as though there was a hidden meaning in her words.

"O, do not drive me to despair. I must see this youth, before to-morrow,--yes, to-day,--this hour!"

"You will never see him in this house again."

"Did he leave this house alone, or was he accompanied,--and by whom?"

A strange smile passed over her face as she replied in a whisper--

"He was accompanied by Mary Berman, who arisen from the grave, came here to claim her husband."

The Judge uttered a wild ejaculation, and sank half fainting in a chair,--his hat fell from his brow, and his face was revealed.

That face, remarkable in every outline, was bathed in cold moisture, and distorted by contending emotions.