University of Virginia Library

15. CHAPTER XV.
The Stratagem.

From the residence of Mrs. Craft, No. 5
Spear's Alley, Gordon hastened back to his
own quarter of the town. Instead of returning
to his abode in Centre street, however,
with a pious dread of Margaret Munson's
angry tongue, he resolved to visit his boon
companions at the grog-shop in Ann street,
into which we have already introduced the
reader. At that good natured and respectable
establishment he found many of his gay
acquaintances assembled, several of whom
were present on the night he lost such sums
of money to the man in green glasses. These
he had not seen since the time when they
witnessed his ill-luck at play, and the remembrance
of the passion he had showed on
the occasion caused him to enter their presence
with a sort of shame.

`Ha! ha!' laughed the worthy proprietor
of the place, as Gordon, to keep up appearances,
offered to treat one of his particular
friends.—`Here is one of our monied men;
one of our golden 'ristocrats. I don't believe
there's any bottom to his purse at all.
Do you want to try your hand at cards again
to-night?'

`I'll play with anybody but the devil,'
muttered Gordon. I tell you, that Marvin is
a very fiend to gamble with. I do believe
there is some magic in the way he cuts or
deals the cards; for you may hold ever so
good a hand, he's sure to hold a better, and
you may spot ever so high on a trick, he'll
be sure to spot a little higher and take it up.
I'm willing to play with anybody but him—
or the devil himself.'

`By dam!' exclaimed a smooth voice close
to his ear, `I will play wiz you and I care no
more devil as youself. You come wiz me,
Monsieur, and I give you ye shance of to
win one, two, three hundred dollar.'

`And who the devil are you?' demanded
Gordon, gruffly.

`Zat is my own affair Monsieur,' replied
the Frenchman; `but you come wiz me,
and you shall learn zat I am one zhontleman
ver' honorabl'. Do you come? bien?'

`Yes, by —!' replied Gordon, fiercely.
`But look you, Monsheer, if this is a trap for
me of any kind, I'll cut your heart out, sure
as there's a devil in hell. Now, lead on, and
I'll follow to the house you want to play in,

if it is any reasonable place. But mind what
I told you.'

`Certainemong, Monsieur,' returned Louis,
with the same calm, sober expression of
countenance he always wore.

And forthwith, accompanied by the burglar,
he issued into the street.

`Now, where the devil are you going?'
demanded Gordon.

`I show you,' replied Louis, `quicker you
I can explain.'

And this was all Gordon could get from
him on the subject. However, he resolved to
follow him,and learn the end of the adventure
feeling perfectly safe, and in no danger from
traps. Still, as Louis continued to conduct
him toward the most respectable quarter of
the city, the burglar began to feel like getting
beyond his depth, and more than once
reminded Louis of his threat. The only an
swer he received on such occasions were
simply, `Very good,' or `certainemong,
Monsieur,' which afforded him but little satisfaction
on the point in question.

Thus the two kept on, Louis leading the
way, until they arrived in front of Burnam's
hotel. The valet de chambre would have
entered without hesitation, but Gordon paused,
shrugging his shoulders.

`What 'ave you?' asked Louis.

`That!' answered Gordon briefly, showing
the hilt of a dirk he carried with him.
`Now go on and—remember!'

The look of terrible meaning the burglar
cast at the valet de chambre would have
startled any man of weaker nerves than
Louis, who was altogether immovable by
threats.

He went on, and introduced Gordon into
one of the apartments of his master. It was
a richly furnished room, the splendor of
which caused the burglar's eye to sparkle
with avarice.

`I must lock you in here,' said Louis,
coolly.

In an instant the right hand of Gordon
clutched the handle of his dirk, and he
glared revengefully at his stranger guide.

`You see,' continued the valet de chambre,
cool as if nothing had happened, `I
must go out a minute for some money to play;
and I must lock you in here zat you may not
run off—'

`Call somebody to stay with me then, if
you're afraid of that,' growled the burglar;
`I'll not be locked up by any body.'

`Very good,' said Louis. `We will not
play you.'

Gordon reflected a moment.

`Go on then,' he muttered sullenly.—
`Lock me up, but mind that you come back
soon.'

Louis quietly left the apartment, turning
the key upon the burglar.

During the absence of the valet de chambre,
Gordon busied himself in staring about
the room, and making professional observations
on the situation of the apartments,
and on the dimensions of divers keys belonging
to locks he longed to open.

Upon the table was a small box of rosewood,
of curious workwanship, which looked
so tempting that he could not resist
the desire he had to open it. The key
was in the lock, and Gordon, quick as
thought, gave it a professional turn, which
placed the contents of the box at his mercy.

He listened to see if there were footsteps
approaching, then carefully raised the lid.

A deafening explosion followed, and flame
and smoke burst from the box. Gordon
was unhurt, but he started back aghast.

Before the burglar could recover from the
amazement into which the unlooked for explosion
threw him, the door was opened, and
there entered—not Louis, but a stranger.

Gordon clutched the handle of his knife,
and threw himself into a posture of defence,
while Burnam—for he it was—fixed his stern
eye upon him as he advanced into the room.

`What is the meaning of this?' demanded
Gustavus. `Who are you?'

`What right have you to question me?'
retorted Gordon.

`Do you know that you are in my apartments?'
asked the other, sternly.

`I care little whether I am or not,' answered
the burglar, smiling. `I was conducted
here by one d—d Frenchman, who
shall suffer for this if I find it to be a trap.'

`Did he give you liberty to be prying into
boxes?'

`I took that liberty.'

`Very well; and I take the liberty now of
saying to you that the Frenchman you have
mentioned is a man in my employ; that he
has acted in accordance with my orders;
and that if you offer him the shadow of an
injury, you shall dearly repent it.'

Gordon could not but quail before the
stern look of Gustavus, but yet he had the
audacity to attempt to laugh at his threat. It
was a ghostly laugh, however, and the hand
of Gordon, that griped the hilt of his dirk,
trembled in spite of his boasted strength of
nerve.

`You do not know that you are in my
power?' pursued Burnam.

Gordon answered with the same ghostly
attempt at a laugh.

`You have no idea, I suppose, that I could
throw you into prison to-morrow!'

`No!' muttered the burglar, a shade paler
than before, `nor can you.'

`You do not know me then?'

`I'm sure I do not.'

`Well, I'm the man you attempted to rob
a short time since, in the vicinity of a gentleman's
house of the name of Acton.'

`Burnam!'

`That is my name?'

Gordon shuddered, but soon regained in
part his self-possession, and armed himself
with his accustomed audacity.

`I heard of your robbery,' he said, `but
you are mistaken in the man.'

`I have the proofs of your guilt,' returned
Burnam with a smile of cool contempt;—
`and that is not the only crime you have
committed to my knowledge, Mr. Gordon.'

`Impossible!' exclaimed the startled burglar.

`Who attempted to rob Mr. Acton's
house!' asked Burnam.

Gordon became paler still, and more agitated
even than before.

`I can prove those crimes against you,
and others of greater magnitude. Can you
inform who stole Mr. Acton's child this very
night—'

`I did not!' exclaimed Gordon in a husky
voice.

`Nor do you know the villain I suppose,
who led the boy, dressed in rags, to a miserable
house, in a place called Spear's Alley?'

Gordon looked at Burnam as if he had
been the arch-fiend himself.

`What more do you know about me?' he
demanded, after a pause.

`Much—more, I believe than any other
man alive, one excepted. I know who you
are, what you have been, and what there is
great danger of your becoming. You will
understand me when I say I know the mystery
of the power you have over Mr. Acton—'

`Liar!' hissed the excited barglar; `you
know nothing—you—'

`Silence!' exclaimed Burnam, as if he
were talking to a dog that had disobeyed
him. `Another such word as that, and I
make use of the knowledge I possess. On
the contrary, if you would escare punishment
for certain crimes I need not mention,
let me advise you to be frank with me, and
submit without a word to my orders. It is
not probable Mr. Acton will be foolish
enough to let you extort any more thousands
from him, so the best thing you can do is to
accept my offer of friendship.'

`First,' said Gordon, leaning against the
wall for support—such was his agitation—
`first tell me who you are, and prove to me
that what you say is true.'

`Very good,' said Burnam, `you shall
know who I am. You may perhaps have
heard of a person who, some years ago, was
charged with the murder of one Caleb
Crowl—'

The blood rushed back upon Gordon's
heart, as if Burnam had spoken his doom
He stared at Gustavus with eyes starting
from their sockets, and features as pale as
death.

`You recollect the circumstance, I see,'
continued Burnam with a bitter smile.—
`Well, I am the man condemned to be
hung for the murder of that Crowl.'

`You—that man—you—' gasped the burglar.

`I am Charles Chivers!' said Gustavus,
calmly.

Gordon stared at him fixedly.

`Charles Chivers!' he repeated in a whisper.
`I see—I know you now—'

`And fear me, too,' I see!' added Gustavus—for
we shall continue to call him by
his assumed name — `why, you tremble
as if you were the escaped convict—the
man accused of murder! I wonder,' he added
with a bitter smile, `if you had anything
to do with putting that wretch, Crowl,
out of the way!'

`Have done with this raillery!' exclaimed
the burglar, gruffly. `You know me, and
there is no need of dallying thus with me.
You need not speak to tell me how I have
wronged you either,' he added, `for I confess
all; but tell me quickly what you want
of me, and I will serve you if it is in my
power.'

The burglar spoke with courage and resolution,
for having recovered from the consternation
into which Burnam's revelations
had thrown him, the thought of his own
guilt, and the power of the man he had
wronged, made him desperate.

`You have spoken wisely,' said Gustavus,
`You have been instrumental in causing me
much misery—nay, you have, in one sense,
changed my destiny—but I promise now
that all shall be forgiven, and pass unpunished,
provided you make a full confession
of your guilt, under oath, and remain with
me, subject to my orders, for one week more
or less, as circumstances may require. What
say you?'

Gordon reflected but a moment, then answered
firmly—

`I will serve you for two reasons. One
is, I have done you wrong enough; then,
again, it is for my interest to stand by you
now. Charles Chivers, I am your man!'