University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.

On that same night old David the Jew sat alone
in the hovel wherein we first introduced him to
the reader. His features bore the same coarse,
villainous, repulsive aspect as then, and the apartment
the same dirty, gloomy appearance. The
Jew, as then, sat by a sort of rough table, whereon
stood a pale, sickly light of his own construction—his
elbow inclined downward and resting
on it so as to support his head with his hand.—
The light stood some little distance before him,
and its pale gleam fell on a countenance where all
the worst passions of the human heart were manifesting
themselves by sudden and sometimes awful
contortions of the muscles. Now a heavy frown
would gather over his features, like some black,
portentous cloud over a dismal swamp, and his
small black eyes would look cold and devilish, and
his shrivelled bloodless lips would compress, and
his lower jaw move as though he were endeavoring
to grate his teeth. Now the expression would
take a wilder, fiercer and more fiend-like aspect, and
his eyes would sparkle with a strange and terrible
gleam, and his thin, bony hand would clutch at
the air, as though he felt it were at the throat of
some victim of his undying hate. And thus he
sat, for an hour, buried to the outer world in the
gloom of his own dark, guilty thoughts, with his
eyes fixed on vacancy—motionless, save the nervous
agitations we have described—alone—an old,
grey headed man—a sad and revolting picture of
humanity. Oh! who would wish to enter to the
depths of such a soul and see its awful workings,
where no ray of God's sunshine ever entered?
Better be in the dark, cold and cheerless charnal
house, among the mouldering remnants of mortality!

Thus, as we have said, for an hour sat the
Jew. At length he started to his feet, and with
his old frame shaking with age and debility, commenced
shuffling to and fro the apartment, with
his head bent forward, and his trembling hands
locked in each other behind him. Suddenly he
paused, and reaching forth his clenched hand,
shook it as it were at vacancy, while his countenance
assumed that same fierce, terrible expression.

“Revenge!” hissed he, at last, through his pale
quivering lips: “Revenge! dat ish it—dat ish
mine nature—revenge! mine Gott! I vill haves
revenge! Dey tinks de Jew ish old and feebles and
can't hurtish dem, and dey dares to imposhe upon
hims, dey dares to lies about hims, dey dares to
spoils his plans for getting monish; and by Fader
Abram! dey shall hangs, dey shall dies, dey shall
rots, and old Ben Davids shall lives to shee it!”

Here he again commenced shuffling across the
apartment, but shortly paused and again resumed:

“I got de gals, I paid mine monish for her, and
den, mine Gott! just as I was to makes mine fortunes
mid her, dey sends and takes her away, and
mine monish gone too! Oh, mine Gott! mine
Gott! And den dey gets up storish about de
old Jew, and hash hims arresteds, and shays he
ish going to betrays 'em; and den de captains shays
he shalls pe watched, and if he finds he hash peen
in any more scrapes he shalls pe shots, and dat vill
pe de ends of de old Jew. Ah, mine Gott! mine
Gott! dey doesent knows de old Jew—dey doesent
knows de old Jew! Ben Davids shall outvits 'em

yet! Ben Davids shall blows de whole partish;
and den dey shall pe caughts, and Ben Davids shall
gets de monish for telling, and den he vill haves revenge,
and den he vill laughs!” Here the old
Jew, as though the consummation of his design
had already taken place, chuckled with a glee that
partook more of the nature of a fiend than a human
being. Again he resumed:

“Yish, to-morrows I shall takes mine monish
and vill go to St. Louis, and dare I shall finds a
magistrates, and shall tells him all about de partish,
and den, mine Gott! ve shall shee who ish
arresteds, and who shall get shots! Ha, ha! Captains
Bonardies, den ve shall shee! Ha, ha!
Mistoor Rileys, den ve shall shee! Ha, ha!—ha,
ha! den ve shall shee who gets aheads of old Ben
Davids! Yish, mine Gott! ha, ha! ve shall shee
den!” and the old Jew rubbed together his hands,
and chuckled merrily until a severe cough interrupted
him.

“Vell, now I shall looks to mine monish,” said
he, as soon as he had recovered sufficiently to
speak; “and mine papers too. Ha! mine Gott!”
cried he, starting as though some new thought
had come over him suddenly: “De papers! yish,
de papers!—perhaps I cans sells de papers! Ha!
yish, I knows de young mans as loves de gal,
and he shall puy de papers, and I shall asks mush
for de papers, and den I shall haves plenty of monish—ha,
ha!—plenty of monish;” and again the
old Jew rubbed his bony hands together and
chuckled. Glancing cautiously around, as though
to assure himself no other being was present, although
he knew the outer door was strongly bolted,
and felt perfectly confident he was alone,
(such by the way being the force of habit) he
proceeded to the closet we have before had occasion
to notice as occupying one corner of the
apartment, and for a moment disappeared. It
was but for a moment however; and when he
returned, he bore in one hand a roll of papers,
and in the other a bag of money. Approaching
with a feeble step he deposited both on the table,
and then reseated himself on the old stool. Untying
the bag he poured forth its contents, and
then for a few minutes sat and gazed upon the
pile with the exulting, avaricious look of a miser.
Perhaps this in a measure was excusable; for
the pile, to say the truth, was by no means an
invaluable one, and might have tempted others of
a less avaricious nature than the Jew to eye it
with delight. It was mostly of gold—old genuine
coins—many of them Spanish doubloons, English
guineas, and the like—occasionally interspersed
with a few pieces of silver.

For some minutes, we say, the old Jew sat and
gazed upon his treasure, and then commenced
handling each piece separately, with a childish delight—placing
each in the palm of his hand, or
on the end of his fingers, and then moving his
hand up and down as though to ascertain its
weight. In this manner passed another hour—
perhaps more—when he returned the money
piece by piece to the bag, taking due note of the
exact amount that none might be missing. This
done, and the whole secured by the string, he laid
it gently upon the table, took up the papers, unrolled
and examined them attentively for some
half hour more; when, as if satisfied with his
scrutiny, he rolled them together, and gathering
up his money returned again to the closet. Here,
feeling along the side next to the wall, low down,
he came to a kind of panel, when touching a
secret spring it immediately flew open, disclosing
a small iron door. Touching another spring, this
door opened, leaving an aperture into a small iron
safe, where the Jew quickly deposited his money
and papers, and then reclosed both the safe door
and panel. Scarcely was this completed, when a
deep sepulchral groan seemed to issue from beneath
him.

“Ha!” exclaimed he starting, “I had forgot
mine prisoners. Vell, vot fors should I keeps him
longers? Vot more use vill he pe now I vonders!
No, he will pe no more use. I shall take mine
papers, and mine monish, and shall come pack no
mores. Vell, den he shall dies! Yish, mine
Gott! he shall dies! and den he will tells no storish
on de old Jew. Ha! yish, mine Gott! dat ish
rights—he shall dies!” As he spoke, the old Jew
tottered back to the table, with a savage look on
his grim, ugly features—a hellish gleam in his
small black eyes—and taking up the light returned
once more to the closet. Here he paused,
and taking from a narrow shelf a somewhat rusty
dagger, he examined it attentively for a moment,
with a fierce gleam of satisfaction. “Dat shall
do mine pusiness,” he muttered; and raising a
trap-door near his feet, he slowly commenced
his descent down a damp, mildewed ladder, into a
slimy, nauseous vault, bearing the light with him.

The passage which the Jew descended was very
narrow, and was walled up on either hand to prevent
the earth from caving in. In depth it might
have been some fifteen feet, and in extent some
thirty more. The air was cold, for both the
ground and walls were moist; and on the latter
stood large drops, which glistened as the pale
gleam of the light fell upon them, like the eyes
of so many serpents. But this was by no means
its worst feature. The air, though cold, was close
and heavy; so much so as to be difficult of respiration;
and was, besides, filled with a stench almost
insupportable. At the bottom of the ladder
the Jew for a moment paused—with his feet sliding
upon what seemed greasy earth—and then
turning slowly around, moved cautiously along
the passage, with the light held before him in one
hand, and the dagger in the other, occasionally
resting an arm against the walls to prevent himself
from falling, until he came to the terminus,
where was revealed a spectacle of the most piteous,
revolting, and inhuman nature.

On a bed of damp, filthy straw—ground into
the earth until it was completely coated with a
clayey loam, and chained to the wall—lay the thin,
sickly, wasted figure of what had once been a
powerful man, now passed the middle age of life.
He was scarcely more than a skeleton. His once
strongly marked countenance—now of a pale
livid, ghastly hue—had wasted away until every
bone stood prominent. His cheeks had fallen in;
and his large, dark eyes,—as they rolled in their
hollow, bony sockets, and gleamed out from between
his long, grey, matted, dirty hair, which
partly screened his features—were sepulchral and
awful to behold. His limbs and body were but
partially covered by rags of the most filthy description,
while—as if to complete the foulest picture
of human wretchedness imaginable—rusty
iron chains, fastened around his ankles, clanked
to the move of his feet.

Such was the prisoner of the Jew. Such was
the awfully loathsome, heart sickening sight,
which he now gazed upon with a savage joy.—
Such was the scene before him; but worse—ay,
worse—for we dare not describe it as it was in reality.
It would shock the senses. And who was

this man? and how came he there in the power of
the Jew? Let the sequel of our story answer. As
the prisoner saw the Jew approaching, he partly
raised himself on one arm and groaned. As the
Jew paused before him, with a dagger in his hand,
and murder in his eye, the prisoner groaned again;
and then in a deep, hollow voice, said:

“Oh, or God-sake, give me food! I am dying
—I am dying of starvation! Days I know have
passed since I have seen you—since aught has
passed these lips!” and the wretched man sunk
back upon his wretched bed with a second groan.

For some time the Jew returned no answer,
but stood and gazed upon him with a fiendish
smile. Then he lookod at his dagger, and then
he spoke:

“You shall shee me no more nevers. You
shall gets no more foods. I shall kills you. You
shall dies mid mine daggers. I am going avays.
I shall needs you no mores. The gal vill not pe
mines, and vot for should you lives? No, mine
Gott! you shall dies!” The Jew spoke rapidly,
in short sentences, and as he concluded he raised
his weapon and bent forward in an attitude to
strike.

“Oh, spare me! for God-sake, spare me! release
me!” groaned the victim, glaring wildly upon
him: “I am not ready to die now.”

“He, he, he! chuckled the Jew, with a hideous
grin. “Vot for you tinks I shall spares you?—
You haves no monish. I can makes no monish
mid you. Shall I spares you to tell storish on de
old Jew, ha, ha? No, mine Gott! you shall
dies! You shall dies now!” and placing one knee
on the ground as he spoke, he again raised the
dagger, bent himself forward, and with a rapid motion
struck at the heart of his victim.

But he failed of his mark. The other, who had
been watching him intently, gathered all his remaining
strength for a final effort, marked the
blow as it descended, caught his arm with one
hand, and with the other wrenched the weapon
from him. So sudden and so unexpected was
this, that the Jew started to his feet and retreated
some paces in absolute terror. Then, as he comprehended
all, and saw how his victim had foiled
him, he uttered a volley of curses at his own stupidity,
stamped the earth with his foot, and beat
his head with his clenched hand in a paroxysm of
rage.

What might have been the result—what dark
and inhuman revenge he might have taken on the
unhappy object before him—had nothing occurred
to interrupt and draw off his thoughts—we do not
pretend to say; but just at this instant was heard
a noise, like the quick tramp of a horse, and immediately
followed a loud knocking at the door
above. As the Jew heard this, he started, turned
pale—that is as pale as his brown, dirt-begrimed
features would permit—and trembled in every
limb. Again the knocking was renewed, even
louder than before, and not daring to pause longer
he turned and made haste up the ladder. At the
top he paused to reclose the door of the vault, and
then tottering into the larger apartment placed
the light upon the table. As he did so, he was
still more startled by hearing a deep, heavy voice
say:

“Open this door, or I will burst it from its fastenings!”

“Who ish dare?” cried the Jew, in a trembling
voice.

“Ele lio!” was the answer.

The Jew, though still frightened, felt much re
lieved by this, as it proved the person, whoever
he was, to be one of the banditti; and shuffling to
the door, he quickly withdrew the bolts and admitted
a tall figure, whose features were completely
concealed under a black mask. The stranger,
without ceremony, walked directly into the middle
of the apartment, and then drawing from his
breast a long, polished dagger, turned quickly
round and abruptly accosted the Jew, who stood
with his hand still upon the door, a perfect picture
of cowardly fright.

“Come forward, Jew; I have a few words to
say, and but little time to say them in.”

The Jew hesitated.

“Must I force you to obey me?” said the stranger,
with a menacing gesture, stamping his foot
fiercely on the ground.

The Jew, too frightened to speak, reluctantly
complied.

“You are an old man, Jew,” continued the
stranger, “and a man of crime. The only thing
that convinces me there is a Hell in the future
world, is in gazing upon such a being as you—for
who would suppose that you could ever inhabit
Heaven? But enough of that: I am no moralist,
and only preach what I practice. My business
here is of a different nature, and quickly told.—
You have in your possession certain papers, relating
to a certain young lady, whom you know,
but whose name it is unnecessary to mention. I
have come for these papers.”

“Me haves papers!” exclaimed the Jew, in pretended
astonishment: “I haves no papers.”

“You will oblige me by getting them as soon as
possible,” returned the stranger, cooly, not heeding
the Jew's remark, “as I have but little time
to tarry.”

“But I tells you I haves no papers!” repeated
the Jew.

“Sorry!” returned the other, carelessly feeling
of the point of the dagger still held in his hand.
“Sorry you have not got them, Jew, as I shall be
much disappointed.”

“Vell, I swears to you I haves not one papers
at all!” said the Jew, feeling somewhat reassured
at the mild tone in which the other spoke. “If I
did haves papers I should gives thems to you mid
pleasures.”

“How far below the surface do you think the
centre of an honest man's heart lies?” asked the
stranger, abruptly.

“Vell, how you tinks I knows?” replied the Jew,
in wonder. “Vot fors you shays dat?”

“Because I thought it likely you might know,
having measured the distance often with your
dagger!” rejoined the other, still toying with his
own.

“You ish vons very strange beings!” remarked
the Jew.

“As you do not know,” resumed the stranger,
“how far the distance to the centre of an honest
man's heart, how far do you judge it to be to the
centre of your own?”

“Eh! vot fors you shays dat?” repeated the
Jew in alarm, who now began to fancy there was
an under current to the other's interrogations.

“O, I merely enquired,” replied the stranger,
“that I might know how much of this bright steel
it would be necessary for me to stain.”

“Oh, mine Gott!” cried the Jew, shaking with
fear: “you vills not kills me?”

“Why not?” said the stranger, sternly. “Have
you not done such deeds often, and on younger
men—men too whose lives were valuable to society?

Why should I spare you? You are old,
and have lived long enough; besides, would I not
be benefitting society by sending you to your
last account?”

“Oh! mine Gott! you vills not kills me?” repeated
the Jew, sinking upon his knees, and extending
his shrivelled old hands in supplication.

“Kill you!” cried the other fiercely, grasping
him by the arm, and raising his long glittering
steel: “Kill you! ay, as I would a copper snake.”

“Oh, oh, oh!” shrieked the Jew, who now believed
his last hour had come. “Spares me—
spares me—spares me! and you shall haves monish—you
shall haves gold! Oh, oh! mine Gott!
mine Gott!”

“Money!” returned the stranger, contemptuously:
“I do not seek your money: your blood
stained coins I do not want, for a curse is on
them. There is but one consideration for which
I would spare your life, and that is not in your
power to grant; at least so you have sworn, and
of course you would not swear falsely.”

“O, mine Gott! yish, de papers!” exclaimed the
Jew, with a ray of hope breaking in upon him.—
“O, yish, Mistoor Strangers, mine Gott! yish,
you shall haves de papers.”

“O, then you did swear falsely, eh? and you
really have the papers?” said the other, releasing
his hold of the Jew. “How lucky you thought
of it in time. Up, then, and get them—for I am
in haste.”

“Oh, you vills not takes—”

“Up, I say!” interrupted the stranger, fiercely,
stamping his foot violently. “Up I say, quickly!
or by—! you rise no more. Quick now, the
papers!” added he, as the Jew started to his
feet.

David, who saw there was no middle course,
turned away with a groan to obey the order.—
Proceeding to the safe, he drew forth the papers,
returned and gave them to the stranger, with a
sigh and a mental curse. Turning to the light,
the figure in the mask examined them for a moment
with evident surprise.

“Ha!” he exclaimed: “there has been foul play
here, Jew; but I have no time to enquire into it
now—another time will do;” and rolling them
together as he spoke, without another word he
turned and quitted the apartment. A moment
later the tramp of a horse was heard speeding
westward.

That horse bore a rider—that rider was John
Webber.

We shall not delay to picture the rage of the
Jew, when he found he had again been imposed
upon—again been foiled in another of his
schemes; suffice that he cursed, raved, stamped,
and beat his head like a madman. Thirsting for
revenge on the banditti, whom he now looked
upon as enemies, and thinking his movoments
less likely to be observed if done in the night, he
determined to start for St. Louis, and early on the
morrow betray the band and seek for protection
under the law. Accordingly he took his money,
the only thing valuable he could carry with him,
and within an hour from the departure of John,
set forth on his treacherous mission. Engrossed
by his wild thoughts of revenge, his prisoner had
been forgotten.

As the Jew quitted the hovel, a dark, crooked
object came out from beneath the table—straightened
itself into the tall figure of a man—opened
the door softly, and disappeared after him.

Who was that figure? how came he there? and
for what purpose? Did the Jew reach St. Louis
that night? Did he ever reach St. Louis?

Who reads shall learn.