Bucholz and the Detectives Part 7

To Nat Toner the days pa.s.sed all too slowly, but with the slowly-moving hours, in the seclusion of his own home, and his own evil thoughts, his revenge became the one object of his life. His reckless, vagabond existence of the past few years, during which it was hinted by several of the villagers, with many shrugs of their shoulders and wise noddings of their venerable heads, he had been engaged in the service of a bold and successful French smuggler, had not tended to elevate his mind, or to humanize his disposition. His depraved nature and vicious habits were roused into full action by this encounter with Henry Schulte, and the anger of his heart was in no wise lessened, as he reflected that he had brought his injuries upon himself. All the brutal instincts of his degraded disposition were aflame, and he resolved that his revenge for the indignities that had been put upon him, should be full and complete.

With a fiendish malignity he determined to strike at the heart of his antagonist through the person of the object of his love, and by that means to be revenged upon both.

CHAPTER XI.

_A Moonlight Walk._--_An Unexpected Meeting._--_The Murder of Emerence Bauer._--_The Oath Fulfilled._

On a beautiful moonlight evening, about a week after the hostile meeting of Henry Schulte and Nat Toner, Emerence, all impatient to meet her lover, whom she had not seen for some days, and whom she fondly expected this evening, left the residence of her parents and walked towards a little stream that ran along the outskirts of the village, where she had been in the habit of meeting Henry upon the occasions of his visits.

The evening was a delightful one, and the scene one of surpa.s.singly romantic beauty. The bright rays of the moon sparkled and danced upon the rippling water; the border of grand old trees that fringed the bank of the stream was reflected with exaggerated beauty far down among the waters; the glittering stars stole in and out among their branches, and shone in the clear crystal mirror. Now a fleecy speck of cloud floated over the face of the Queen of Night, from behind which she would soon emerge, with increased brilliancy, to dart her long arrowy beams away down to the pebbly bottom of the flowing river, kissing the fairies that the old German legends tell us dwelt there in the days of old.

Silently, but with happy heart and beaming eyes, the young girl gazed upon the scene that lay before her; then, walking to the center of the rustic bridge that spanned the stream from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e, she leaned over the low railing and watched, with her mind teeming with pleasant visions of the future, her figure reflected as in a burnished mirror, upon the water beneath her.

Her sweet reverie was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, and a blush illumined her face as she thought she would soon greet her coming lover, and feel his strong arms about her.

Turning her head a little, she saw another shadow there so distinctly traced that she had no difficulty in recognizing it, and she started in affright as she discovered that instead of Henry Schulte, the new-comer was none other than his enemy and hers, Nat Toner.

She would have yielded to an intuitive sense of danger, and fled from the spot, but Nat stepped quickly in the way and barred her pa.s.sage, lifting his hat in mock reverence as he addressed her.

"Good evening, pretty Emerence, you look like a beautiful water sprite in the rays of this bright-beaming moon."

Did she imagine it, or was there a cold, hard ring in the voice that uttered these words, which filled her heart with an aching fear, and made her lips tremble as she acknowledged his salutation?

"You are waiting for Henry Schulte, I suppose!" he continued, in the same hard, mocking tone.

Mustering up all the latent courage which she possessed, she looked up unflinchingly, as she replied:

"I do not know that anyone has a right to question me upon my movements, or to a.s.sign a reason for my actions."

"Indeed, my pretty little spit-fire! You speak truly, but Nat Toner intends to a.s.sume a right which no one else possesses," answered Nat tauntingly, while his black eyes glistened in the moonlight with a baleful light.

"I cannot stop to listen further to such language, and must bid you good evening," said Emerence, drawing herself up haughtily, and turning to leave the bridge.

"Stop where you are and listen to me," cried Nat sharply, and with his right hand he grasped the wrist of the shrinking girl.

"Nat Toner!" at last said Emerence boldly, "remove your hand from my wrist, or I will call for help, and then perhaps your conduct will meet with its just punishment."

"Utter one word, at your peril. I have something to say to you, and you must listen to me," said Nat, releasing his hold, and glaring fiercely at the brave girl who stood before him.

"I will listen to nothing further from you to-night. Stand aside and let me pa.s.s," said Emerence firmly, and again turning to leave the bridge.

"Emerence Bauer, listen to me I say. I have something to tell you that concerns that lover of yours, Henry Schulte, and you shall hear what I have to say."

At the mention of Henry's name Emerence stopped, and thinking that perhaps she might serve her lover by remaining, she said:

"I will hear you, Nat Toner, but be as brief as possible."

"Aha! for the sake of your dear Henry, you will listen to me. I thought so. Do you know that he is my enemy till death; that the insults which he has heaped upon me can only be washed away by blood; and that you, my haughty beauty, alone can satisfy the hate I bear to Henry Schulte and the revenge I have sworn against him?"

"Nat Toner, what do you mean?" tremblingly inquired the affrighted girl, unable to stir.

Ah, well might she tremble now! There was murder in the flas.h.i.+ng of those wicked black eyes that glared upon her, and the distorted, pallid face before her showed too plainly the pa.s.sions of his heart, as he answered:

"What do I mean? I will tell you! I loved you, Emerence Bauer, and I hate Henry Schulte for the insult he has put upon me. You scorn my love, and Henry Schulte must pay the penalty. He shall never possess you, for--I mean to kill you!"

With a wild shriek, that rang through the air as the cry of a frightened bird, Emerence turned to flee from the fiend before her.

But, alas, too late! The murderous weapon came down with a dull, heavy crus.h.i.+ng sound upon that fair, girlish head, and she fell lifeless at the feet of the madman who had slain her.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "_She fell lifeless at the feet of the madman who had slain her._"]

Without uttering a word Nat Toner lifted up the body of the unfortunate girl and threw it over the low railing of the bridge into the rippling water beneath. A splash followed that sent the water in brightly burnished crystals high in the air--and then the river flowed on, as though unconscious and uncaring for the burden that had been committed to its keeping.

Raising himself to his full height and shaking his blood-red hand in the direction of the village, Nat Toner cried out with demoniac exultation:

"Now, Henry Schulte, I am revenged!"

Saying which, he plunged into a strip of woods that grew near by, and disappeared from view.

Oh, s.h.i.+mmering moon, did no pitying glance fall from thy cold, bright face as this fair, young life was cruelly beaten out by the hand of her brutal a.s.sa.s.sin? Oh, glittering stars, did no dark clouds intervene between thy merry twinklings and the dreadful scene below?

And ye, oh, rippling river, did no murmur escape thee as the crimson tide of this fair dead girl mingled with thy transparent waves and floated away into the darkness of the night?

CHAPTER XII.

_The Search for the Missing Girl._--_The Lover's Judgment._--_Henry Schulte's Grief._--_The Genial Farmer becomes the Grasping Miser._

Half an hour later, Henry Schulte, who had been delayed beyond his wont in the village, came walking briskly along the road that led to the abode of Emerence. His heart was gay, and a blithe, merry song rose to his lips as he journeyed along. All unconscious of the dark deed that had been committed, he stood upon the rustic bridge, where he had expected to meet his betrothed, and gazed at the beauty of the landscape that was spread before him. No sound came from that gurgling stream, to tell the impatient lover of the fate of her he loved, and little did he dream, as he stood there in quiet contemplation of the glorious night, that directly beneath his feet, with her calm, dead face upturned towards him, could be seen, through the transparent waters, the lifeless body of the fair maiden, whose head had nestled on his bosom and whose loving lips had made him happy with their kisses of love.

Ah, nevermore for thee will the bright moon s.h.i.+ne in its translucent splendor, and never again will you know the happiness and the peace of this beautiful evening, as you waited on that bridge for her who nevermore would come to your call again.

After waiting a short time, and not hearing the footsteps of his affianced, Henry resumed his journey and soon arrived at the residence of the wealthy brewer, whose hospitable doors flew open at his knock, and the mother of Emerence stood in the low, broad pa.s.sage-way.

"Where is Emerence?" quickly inquired the mother of the girl, in surprise, at seeing him alone.

"Emerence! Is she not at home?" exclaimed Henry, equally surprised.

"No," replied the mother. "She went out about an hour ago, to meet you on the way."

Henry immediately became alarmed. He had not seen her, and it seemed incredible that she could have gone to visit any friends on the evening when she expected him, and certainly not without informing her parents of the fact.

"I will go at once in search of her," he said, as he turned away from the house, and hurriedly retraced his steps towards the village, with a terrible fear for her safety pressing upon his heart.

He inquired at every house where her friends resided, but everywhere was met with a wondering negative. No one appeared to have seen her, or to know anything of her whereabouts, and at length, wearied with his fruitless inquiries, and rendered almost desperate at his want of success, he went to the village tavern, and requested the aid of his comrades in searching for the missing girl, for whose safety and happiness he would willingly have laid down his life.