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text:
WriterNextDoor
A Blog Full of Love and Life
Hey, I'm Aaliyah and I welcome you all to my wonderful and sweet blog! I am a self-published author, a freelance writer, and a cat lover! so I'm sure we will be best friends for life :D
MY WEBTOON
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Hadiths
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Mini review of Supernatural S13 Ep21 'Beat The Devil'
Aaliyah Salia
*Beware of spoilers*
No offence, but Supernatural is turning boring all over again. Keeping the comedy aside, there is progress in the story but for some reason, I'm not feeling the excitement and apprehension of what's to come next. Its like I'm just watching for the sake of completing the season…
I need the energy, the activeness and a deadly fight. Not that I'm not happy with family reunions. At long last, Sam and Dean, along with the help of an Angel, a witch and 2 Archangels, find Mary and Jack on the other side of the fatal universe.
Yes, you read right. 2 Archangels. One is Gabriel who accepted to help them and fight the alternate version a.k.a evil Michael. And the other Archangel as you know it, who is alive and in this world right now, is Lucifer. Somehow tricking Lucy, the odd couple, Gabriel and Rowena, capture him, bring him to the bunker and use his abundant grace to open up the rift.
You might be asking now that why didn't Gabriel use his grace, right? Well, he did give his grace but apparently, it wasn't enough and he still needs time to fill up his tank.
With Lucifer's tap open and spilling at every second, the boys get to the other side, leaving Rowena in-charge of babysitting the Devil. However, as you all know it, Lucifer wouldn't just sit there like a good boy. He body itches to create mischief, to whisper unnecessary stuff, to annoy the heck out of people. Using his words and singing skills and the gift of vexation, Lucifer manages to anger Rowena, who in-return says something that makes Lucifer furious and break the Witch's binding spell on him. Lucifer was about to kill Rowena. Again. But the tiny Irish woman was able to fight back, thereupon making a threatening mistake (because like Billy, the Death said, Rowena will only be killed by Samuel)
She used her magic to push the Devil away from her, but ends up sending him directly into the rift. She thinks of leaving the bunker since she was done with her work and now whatever happens will not matter to her, but instead; feeling guilty and responsible, she stays back and searches for a way in the black book to keep the rift open.
On the other side, the gang tread north. They end up saving two people who mention were also heading north to where a rebel group leaded by a woman named Mary was saving and protecting the others from the menacing Angels.
The two groups use a dangerous shortcut to reach Dayton quicker, however, it only ends up bad. An army of vampires attack them, and as much as they put up a fight, one of them was successful in biting Sam and dragging him away further into their den. Dean was about to chase his baby brother but Castiel stops him, realizing that Sam was already gone.
Without wasting another moment, the two groups reach Dayton and eventually meet up with their mom and Jack. But no one is happy because with this family reunion because Sammy might as well be as good as dead…
When unexpectedly, Sam shows up; bloody but alright.
Like how in the world…?
Let me answer that for you. It was because of Lucifer.
Yes, you read it right again, Lucifer saved Sam. He prevented his death. Why? Because seemingly Sam was the only one now to know where his son, Jack would be and to because Lucifer knows too well that his son wouldn't accept him, he decides to go to him with a simple, heart-touching gift. Samuel. The goose.
What a devil, isn't he?
And eventually, Lucifer finally comes face to face with his son who obviously doesn't seem too happy to meet his real father.
What will happen now?
Will the father and son talk it all out and join hands?
Or will Jack end up killing his own dad?
Or will Lucifer, to gain his son's trust help the Winchesters save the world from Michael and his army?
I have no idea, but considering Supernatural's ability to surprise us at unforeseen times, I'm guessing its going to be something awful or something out of the blue, or something direct.
Peace neighbours,
See you in my next post~
I'M THE WRITER NEXT DOOR!
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redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


text:
Q: Unit Tests fail to load when solution is on a network share (LAN) i'm using Visual Studio 2012 and cannot see any Unit Tests when i go to the TestExplorer.
The solution is is a network share.
I already tried adding <loadFromRemoteSources enabled="true"/> to various .config files, and even making the network share "Fully Trusted" using caspol.exe.
My network share is mounted as unit X:, so the command looks like this:
C:\Windows\Microsoft.NET\Framework\v4.0.30319\CasPol.exe -machine -addgroup All_Code -url X:\* FullTrust

I also tried adding <legacyCasPolicy enabled="true" /> to the config without luck.
If I try to Debug the Test directly using Resharper plugin, the error I get is:

Unable to get type
  ProductDataModules.DataModel.Tests.TSD_InformationModule.
  Error: System.IO.FileLoadException: Could not load file or assembly
  'file:///X:\Source\ProductDataModulesTests\bin\Debug\ProductDataModulesTests.dll'
  or one of its dependencies. Operation is not supported. (Exception
  from HRESULT: 0x80131515) File name:
  'file:///X:\Source\ProductDataModulesTests\bin\Debug\ProductDataModulesTests.dll'
  ---> System.NotSupportedException: An attempt was made to load an assembly from a network location which would have caused the assembly
  to be sandboxed in previous versions of the .NET Framework. This
  release of the .NET Framework does not enable CAS policy by default,
  so this load may be dangerous. If this load is not intended to sandbox
  the assembly, please enable the loadFromRemoteSources switch. See
  http://go.microsoft.com/fwlink/?LinkId=155569 for more information.
  at System.Reflection.RuntimeAssembly._nLoad(AssemblyName fileName,
  String codeBase, Evidence assemblySecurity, RuntimeAssembly
  locationHint, StackCrawlMark& stackMark, IntPtr pPrivHostBinder,
  Boolean throwOnFileNotFound, Boolean forIntrospection, Boolean
  suppressSecurityChecks)    at
  System.Reflection.RuntimeAssembly.nLoad(AssemblyName fileName, String
  codeBase, Evidence assemblySecurity, RuntimeAssembly locationHint,
  StackCrawlMark& stackMark, IntPtr pPrivHostBinder, Boolean
  throwOnFileNotFound, Boolean forIntrospection, Boolean
  suppressSecurityChecks)    at
  System.Reflection.RuntimeAssembly.InternalLoadAssemblyName(AssemblyName
  assemblyRef, Evidence assemblySecurity, RuntimeAssembly reqAssembly,
  StackCrawlMark& stackMark, IntPtr pPrivHostBinder, Boolean
  throwOnFileNotFound, Boolean forIntrospection, Boolean
  suppressSecurityChecks)    at
  System.Reflection.RuntimeAssembly.InternalLoadFrom(String
  assemblyFile, Evidence securityEvidence, Byte[] hashValue,
  AssemblyHashAlgorithm hashAlgorithm, Boolean forIntrospection, Boolean
  suppressSecurityChecks, StackCrawlMark& stackMark)    at
  System.Reflection.Assembly.LoadFrom(String assemblyFile)    at
  Microsoft.VisualStudio.TestPlatform.MSTestFramework.TypeCache.LoadType(String
  typeName, String assemblyName)

Did anybody have this issue? How did you solve it?

A: Visual Studio 2012 refused to trust my network share.
However I found a workaround to foolish it (make it assume my environment is on a local drive):
First of all, I had to map the network unit permanently, it asked for the user and password to authenticate. I chose to remember credentials, so that the trust relationship loads automatically even after a restart or shutdown.
Then I had to make a symbolic link from cmd.exe, using the following command:
mklink /D c:\symLink \\192.168.0.206\<share name>

Now I had to browse to the new path, and open the .SLN file.
I could even make a shortcut to my Desktop.
The link now points to c:\symLink...\solution.sln
I never had a permission bug again. Hope it helps.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


* The IPVanish team loves Oreos, not bugs. Android Oreo bugs have been squashed.
* Fastest server algorithm has undergone a redesign.
* You will now see a message if the server list filters return no results.
* The widget should now correctly display the on/off connection state.
* Your bits move at the speed of light so should our UI. We have fixed a delay in showing the correct location and connection stats.


text:
Q: Using a dictionary across multiple subs in VBA I have a dictionary which is defined in one sub, which I'd like to use to get Values from the keys, which are in different subs.
Private Sub CommandButton2_Click()

ID = Me.TextBox1.Value
Dim rwd As Worksheet
Set rwd = ThisWorkbook.Sheets("Raw Data")

If Application.WorksheetFunction.CountIf(summ.Range("A:A"), Me.TextBox4.Value) > 0 Then
    Dim rowsDict As Object
    Set rowsDict = CreateObject("Scripting.Dictionary")
    Dim counter As Long
    counter = 1
    For i = 2 To rwd.Range("A" & Application.rows.Count).End(xlUp).Row
        If rwd.Range("A" & i).Value = ID Then
            RowAndNumber = CStr(counter) & "-" & (rwd.Range("J" & i).Value)
            Me.ComboBox3.AddItem (RowAndNumber)
            rowsDict.Add RowAndNumber, i '
            counter = counter + 1
        End If
    Next
End Sub

Private Sub ComboBox3_Change()

    n = rowsDict.Item(Me.ComboBox3.Value)
    Me.bTextBox131.Value = rwd.Range("J" & n).Value
End Sub

A: You need to declare the dictionary in the module scope
' Move your declaration to outside your Sub
Dim rowsDict As Object
Private Sub CommandButton2_Click()
    ID = Me.TextBox1.Value
    Dim rwd As Worksheet
    Set rwd = ThisWorkbook.Sheets("Raw Data")

    If Application.WorksheetFunction.CountIf(summ.Range("A:A"), Me.TextBox4.Value) > 0 Then
        Set rowsDict = CreateObject("Scripting.Dictionary")
        Dim counter As Long
        counter = 1
        For i = 2 To rwd.Range("A" & Application.rows.Count).End(xlUp).Row
            If rwd.Range("A" & i).Value = ID Then
                RowAndNumber = CStr(counter) & "-" & (rwd.Range("J" & i).Value)
                Me.ComboBox3.AddItem (RowAndNumber)
                rowsDict.Add RowAndNumber, i '
                counter = counter + 1
            End If
        Next
    ' You're also missing an End If
    End If
End Sub

Private Sub ComboBox3_Change()
    n = rowsDict.Item(Me.ComboBox3.Value)
    Me.bTextBox131.Value = rwd.Range("J" & n).Value
End Sub


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" just want to say a big THANK YOU to Dr. Guzman for all the procedures he did."
"The staff is super friendly very professional and are very thorough with patients."
"Great customer service. Family atmosphere. Best dentist in Chula Vista."
"Best dentist in San Diego."
For exceptional dental care in Chula Vista, California, contact Dr. Jose Guzman of Guzman Dental. His compassion and dedication to his patients make him a premier dentist in the South Bay area of San Diego.
At Guzman Dental, Dr. Guzman is an expert in both preventive care and restoring mouths and smiles damaged by dental disease or injury. He offers a wide range of dental procedures and treatment for all your oral care needs, including endodontics, regular check-ups and cleanings, oral surgery, orthodontics, restoration with crowns or bridges, and partial or full dentures.
As a cosmetic dentist, Dr. Guzman can also transform your teeth with Invisalign® or give you a dazzling white smile with professional teeth whitening. His ultimate goal is to provide you with superior oral care so you can maintain a smile you're proud to flash.
A graduate of the University of Baja California, Dr. Guzman now has more than a decade of dental experience. Married with four children, Dr. Guzman enjoys spending time with his family when not in the office.


text:
Q: How to get Alt + C(or any other key) to work in JavaScript on Chrome for Mac and windows I have tried following code,
window.onkeypress =  function(event){

   if(event.altKey && (event.keyCode == 99 || event.keyCode == 67)){

      alert("alt + C pressed")
   }
}

How ever It doesn't work!
I tried alert(event.keyCode) per keypress and it seems when I press opt/alt key on Mac, I get a different keycode other than 99 or 67 with the combination.
Whats the correct way to achieve this ?

A: Try using the keydown or keyup handler. In that case 'c' = keyCode 67:
window.onkeydown = function(e) {
    e = e || event;
    if (e.altKey && e.keyCode === 67) {
        console.log("alt+c pressed!");
    }
}

jsfiddle


As of January 2014, more than 3.4 million children will be entitled to receive $1000.00 worth of dental assistance over a two year calendar period. This new medicare scheme is known as the "Child Dental Benefits Schedule" CDBS, and is intended to benefit children between the ages of 2 and 17 years.
We service Lyndhurst, Marriott Waters, Lynbrook, Sandhurst, Botanic Ridge, Clyde, Cranbourne, Hampton Park, Hallam, Narre Warren, Langwarrin, Seaford, Frankston, Pearcedale, Berwick, and other surrounding suburbs and even beyond.


text:
Q: using Google translate service api in Java I am facing difficulty using google translate service api from my java code. For google translate I don not need to use OAuth, so I am simply firing the URI along with the required parameters but getting all sorts of errors like 404 or file not found exception.
URL - https://www.googleapis.com/language/translate/v2
Parameters - key=**********&q=Please%20translate%20me.&source=en&target=fr

I am not able figure what else is required. If anyone of you can guide me or direct me to some example code or blog would be really helpful.

A: Got it working following this blog post. Looks like it doesn't need OAuth to make it work from Java code. Just api key is enough.
http://hayageek.com/google-translate-api-tutorial/#java-example


text:
Manufacturing Advances Mean Truly Flexible Devices Are on the Way
The technology needed to make flexible displays, electronics, and batteries is being tested.
Kevin Bullisarchive page
One of the innovations packed inside the Apple Watch—and highlighted by designer Jony Ive at the company's grand unveiling this week—is a flexible display.
Flexible future: Samsung showed off flexible display prototypes in 2013.
Contrary to some earlier speculation about the device, however, this doesn't mean you can actually bend the screen. As with other devices featuring flexible displays, such as those from LG and Samsung, the display has been laminated onto a stiff pane, fixing it in place to prevent the damage that would come from repeated flexing.
Even so, the appearance of the first few flexible screens in commercial devices may be a sign of things to come. In fact, fully flexible electronic gadgets—with full-color displays that wrap around a wrist or fold up—may be just a few years away, thanks to solutions that manufacturers have already started to demonstrate.
Apple hasn't disclosed why the Apple Watch has a flexible display. It might allow for a slight curve at the edges, and it may also simply be thinner than a conventional one (see "The Apple Watch May Solve the Usual Smart Watch Annoyances").
In a conventional LCD display the liquid crystals within the pixels need to be perfectly positioned between two sheets of glass. These sheets cannot be bent without misaligning the pixels. According to Max McDaniel, chief marketing officer for Applied Materials, a company whose equipment is used to make displays, is also extremely difficult to make a flexible backlight—the component needed to illuminate LCD pixels.
So the screen in the Apple Watch is almost certainly an OLED display. Rather than the pixels being illuminated by a backlight, each pixel glows on its own, like a minuscule light bulb. Manufacturers can already make OLED displays flexible. They first laminate a sheet of plastic to glass and then deposit the materials for the pixels and the electronics on top of both. The glass stabilizes the manufacturing process, and afterwards the plastic, together with display and electronic components, is lifted off the glass.
Manufacturers have known how to do this for years. Samsung showed off a fully flexible OLED display in 2013. The tricky part is making sure the devices are durable. OLED pixels can be destroyed by even trace amounts of water vapor and oxygen, so you have to seal the display within robust, high-quality, flexible materials. This is costly, and there are challenges with ensuring that the seal survives being bent hundreds or thousands of times over the lifetime of a device.
The parts within a flexible display also need to survive being bent. This is tricky because different layers—the battery, the electronics, and the touch components—tend to be stacked, and the innermost layers have to bend more than the outermost ones. The outer layers also stretch while the inner ones compress.
Some researchers have developed stretchable electronics, which might help accommodate stresses (see "Stretchable Displays" and "Making Stretchable Electronics"). Novel materials for touch screens that use flexible nanomaterials could also help. One patent application suggests Apple is already looking at this issue. It describes measures such as varying the thickness of materials in a device to allow it to bend while keeping the electronics lined up properly with the pixels they control.
Making a flexible battery is another challenge. While the lithium-polymer batteries used in smartphones today are somewhat flexible, they can't survive being bent many times. One option is to make a segmented battery, like a segmented watch band, says Kevin Chen, general manager for energy storage solutions at Applied Materials. His company is developing solid-state batteries, which could easily be cut up into small pieces for flexible devices, and which also have the potential to store much more energy than conventional lithium-ion batteries (see "Longer-Lasting Battery Is Being Tested for Wearable Devices"). Apple outlines a similar battery design in another recent patent application.
Steady progress means fully flexible devices could be available in just a few years. Meanwhile, we have flexible displays that are fixed in place—as in the Apple Watch.
by Kevin Bullis
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10 Breakthrough Technologies 2023The Editors
These exclusive satellite images show that Saudi Arabia's sci-fi megacity is well underwayMark Harris
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The Download: the Saudi sci-fi megacity, and sleeping babies' brains
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text:
Home / Hatchie, the Guardian Slave; or, The Heiress of Bellevue A Tale of the Mississippi and the South-west / HATCHIE THE GUARDIAN SLAVE;
HATCHIE THE GUARDIAN SLAVE;
The Project Gutenberg eBook, Hatchie, the Guardian Slave; or, The Heiress of Bellevue, by Warren T. Ashton
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
Title: Hatchie, the Guardian Slave; or, The Heiress of Bellevue
Author: Warren T. Ashton
START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HATCHIE, THE GUARDIAN SLAVE; OR, THE HEIRESS OF BELLEVUE
E-text prepared by Robert Shimmin, Charlie Kirschner,
THE GUARDIAN SLAVE;
THE HEIRESS OF BELLEVUE.
A Tale of the Mississippi and the South-west
BY WARREN T. ASHTON.
"Here is a man, setting his fate aside, Of comely virtues."
SHAKSPEARE
"Is this the daughter of a slave?"
KNOWLES.
Boston:
B. B. Mussey and Company,
R. B. Fitts and Company.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
Reprinted 1972 from a copy in the
Fisk University Library Negro Collection
New World Book Manufacturing Co., Inc.
Hallandale, Florida 33009
In the summer of 1848 the author of the following tale was a passenger on board a steamboat from New Orleans to Cincinnati. During the passage—one of the most prolonged and uncomfortable in the annals of western river navigation—the plot of this story was arranged. Many of its incidents, and all its descriptions of steamboat life, will be recognized by the voyager of the Mississippi.
The tale was written before the appearance of "Uncle Tom's Cabin,"—before negro literature had become a mania in the community. It was not designed to illustrate the evils or the blessings of slavery. It is, as its title-page imports, a tale; and the author has not stepped out of his path to moralize upon Southern institutions, or any other extraneous topic. But, as its locale is the South, and its principal character a slave, the story incidentally portrays some features of slavery.
With these explanations, the author submits the tale to the public, hoping the reader will derive some portion of the pleasure from its perusal which he experienced in its preparation.
BOSTON, November 18, 1852.
HATCHIE:
THE GUARDIAN SLAVE.
"Antony. You grow presumptuous.
Ventidius. I take the privilege of plain love to speak.
Antony. Plain love!—Plain arrogance! plain insolence!"
DRYDEN.
On the second floor of a lofty building in —— street, New Orleans, was situated the office of Anthony Maxwell, Esq., Attorney and Counsellor at Law, Commissioner for Georgia, Alabama, and a dozen other states. His office had not the usual dusty, business-like aspect of such places, but presented more the appearance of a gentleman's drawing-room; and, but for the ponderous cases of books bound in law-sheep, and a table covered with tin boxes and bundles of papers secured with red tape, the visitor would easily have mistaken it for such. The space on the walls not occupied by book-cases was hung with rich paintings, whose artistic beauty and elevated themes betokened a refined taste. The floor of the room was covered by a magnificent tapestry carpet. The chairs, lounges and tables, were of the most costly and elegant description. The windows were hung with graceful and brilliant draperies. Every arrangement of the office betokened luxury and indolence, rather than the severe toil and privation to which the aspirant for legal honors must so often submit. The costly appurtenances of the apartment seemed to indicate that the young lawyer's path to fame was over a velvet lawn, bedecked with beautiful flowers, rather than the rough road, steep and crooked, over which the greatest statesmen and most eminent jurists have trodden.
The occupant of this chamber was stretched at full length upon one of the luxurious lounges, puffing, with an abstracted air, a fragrant regalia. He was a young man, not more than five-and-twenty years of age, and what ladies of taste would have styled decidedly handsome. His face was pale, with a certain haggard appearance, which indicates the earlier stages of dissipation. His complexion was of a delicate white, unbrowned by the southern sun, and the skin was so transparent that the roots of his black beard were visible beneath its surface. His jet-black hair hung in rich, wavy curls, which seemed to be the especial care of some renowned tonsorial artist, so gracefully and accurately were they arranged. His black eye was sharp and expressive when his mind was excited in manly thought; but now it was a little unsteady,—disposed to droop, and wander, as though ashamed to express the emotions which agitated his soul. Altogether, his features were classic; but there was something about them which the moralist would not like—a sort of lascivious softness mingling with the nobler intellectual expression, that warned him to beware of the Siren, while he admired the Apollo.
The marks of vice were visible in his countenance. They had not yet become canker-spots on the surface, but they rankled and festered beneath that fair field of physical and intellectual grandeur.
The young attorney was dressed in the extreme of fashion, yet in good taste. Though he wore all the fashion demanded, he did not court ridicule by overstepping its flickering lines. He was not the over-dressed dandy, but the full-dressed gentleman of refined taste, in his external appearance.
Anthony Maxwell had been educated at a northern institution. A year before his introduction to the reader, he had entered his father's office in the capacity of a partner, where, by an assumed devotion to business, he had effectually deceived his father and his clients into the belief that he was a steady, industrious young man. His talents were of a very respectable order, which, superadded to a native eloquence and an engaging demeanor, had enabled him to acquit himself with much credit in the cases intrusted to his management. A few months after his professional début, his father's decease had placed him in possession of a very lucrative practice and a moderate fortune, thus enabling him in some degree to follow the bent of his own inclinations. To those whose habits and desires were similar to his own, he was not long in unfolding his true character, though not to a sufficient extent to destroy at once his professional prospects. The irresponsible life of the man of leisure had more charms to him than an honorable distinction in his profession. To labor in any form he had an intolerable repugnance. His fortune was not sufficient to allow an entire neglect of business; therefore he determined to practise law in an easy manner, until a rich wife, or the "tricks" of his craft, would permit an entire devotion to the pleasures of affluence.
In accordance with this idea, his first step, after the death of his father, had been to locate himself in the magnificent apartments we have described. He gave up the house in which his father had dwelt, and, fitting up a sleeping-room in the rear of the office with oriental splendor, his life and habits were free from the scrutinizing gaze of friend and foe, and he found himself situated as nearly to his mind as his income would permit. These indications of a dissolute life were viewed with distrust by the more respectable of his clients. His subsequent actions were not calculated to increase their confidence; yet, for the respect they bore to the father's memory, they were slow in casting off the son.
Mr. Maxwell smoked his cigar, and occasionally uttered an impatient exclamation, as though some scheme he was turning in his mind refused to accommodate itself to his means. He was evidently engaged in the consideration of some complicated affair; and the more he thought, the more impatient he grew. He finished his cigar, and lit another; still the knotty point was not conquered. His haggard countenance at one moment was lighted up, as though success had dawned upon his mental contest; but at the next moment it darkened into disappointment, which he vented in an audible oath.
While thus laboring in his perplexity, the door communicating with the ante-chamber was opened, and the boy in attendance very formally announced "Miss Dumont."
This announcement seemed to dissipate the vexatious clouds which had environed the attorney, and a light and cheerful smile came, as if by magic, upon his care-worn features, as he apologized to the lady for the smoky atmosphere of the room.
"I trust your honored father is well," said he, after disposing of the usual commonplace introductions of conversation.
"I regret to say that his failing health is the occasion of this visit," replied the lady, in a cold and even serious tone. "I have called to request your immediate attendance at Bellevue. My father has some business matters upon which he requires your professional advice."
"Col. Dumout, I trust, is not seriously ill," returned Maxwell, with an appearance of sympathy.
"He is confined to his room, but not entirely to his bed. When shall I say you will come?" said the lady.
"I will be there within an hour after your own arrival, if you go direct."
"Very well, sir;" and she turned to depart.
This intention on the part of the lady did not seem to meet the approbation of the attorney.
"Stay a moment, Miss Dumont," said he, in an embarrassed manner; "pray, honor me with a moment's conversation."
"Nay, sir. I know too well your object in this request, and cannot accede to it," replied the lady, in a firm and dignified manner, while a rich crimson shade suffused her beautiful countenance.
"Be not so unkind,—a moment is all I ask," said Maxwell, with pleading earnestness.
"No, sir; not a moment. Your unopened letter, which I yesterday returned, should be enough to convince you that my mind is not changed," replied she, moving to the door.
The lawyer was vexed. The letter alluded to by the lady he had received, and it had troubled him exceedingly. He had a great purpose in view,—a purpose which, accomplished, would enable him to realize the cherished object of his life,—would enable him to revel in the ease and affluence he so much coveted. Something must be done. Here was an opportunity afforded by the providential visit of Miss Dumont which might never occur again, and he resolved to improve it. Determined to detain her, he adopted the first expedient which presented itself.
"Pardon me," said he, "I have not received the letter, and was not aware that you intended to return it."
"Indeed!" replied the lady, with evident astonishment, as she relinquished her hold of the door-handle, and returned to the table by the side of which the attorney stood.
"I regret that I did not, as it would have saved you from further annoyance, and me from a few of the hours of anguish with which I have awaited your reply," returned the lawyer, in accents of humility, which were too well feigned to permit the lady to suspect them. "The bitterness of a blighted hope were better than the agony of suspense."
A smile of pity and contempt rested upon the fair face of the lady, as she turned her glance from him to the papers on the table. There lay Maxwell's letter, with the envelope in which she had returned it! She only pointed to it, and looked into his face to read the shame and confusion her discovery must create.
Maxwell's pallid cheek reddened, as he perceived that his deceit was exposed; but he instantly recovered his self-possession, and said,
"Pardon this little subterfuge. I permitted myself to descend to it, that I might gain a moment's time to plead with you for the heart which is wasting away beneath your coldness. You do not, you cannot, know the misery I have endured in possessing the love upon which you so cruelly frown."
The passionate eloquence of Maxwell might have melted a heart less firm than that of Emily Dumont. As it was, the cold expression of contempt left her features, and, if not disposed to listen with favor to his suit, she was softened into pity for his assumed misery. Under any other circumstances, the lie he had a moment before uttered would have forever condemned him in her sight. But her charitable disposition compelled her to believe that it was the last resort of a mind on the verge of despair.
"Mr. Maxwell," said she, "I am deeply grieved that you should have suffered any unhappiness on my account."
"I will bless you for even those words," returned Maxwell, hastily, feeling that he had gained the first point.
"But I do not intend to encourage your suit," promptly returned the lady.
"Be not again unkind! Veil not that heavenly sympathy in the coldness of indifference again!"
"I wish not to be harsh, or unkind. You have before given me an index of your sentiments, and I have endeavored, by all courteous means, to discountenance them."
"Yet I have always found something upon which to base a flickering hope."
"If you have, I regret it all the more."
"Do not say so! Changed as has been your demeanor towards me, I have dared to fan the flame in my heart, till now it is a raging fire, and beyond my control."
"I cannot give my hand where my heart is uninterested," replied the lady, feelingly. "I love you not. I am candid, and plain, and I trust this unequivocal declaration will forever terminate any hope you have cherished in relation to this matter. Painful as I now feel it must be for you to hear, and painful as it is to me, on that account, to declare it, I repeat—I can never reciprocate the affection you profess. And now let this interview terminate. It is too painful to be prolonged;"—and she again moved towards the door.
"Do not leave me to despair!" pleaded Maxwell, earnestly, as he followed her toward the door. "At least, bid me wait, bid me prove myself worthy,—anything, but do not forever extinguish the little star I have permitted to blaze in the firmament of my heart—the star I have dared to worship. Do not veil me in utter darkness!"
"I can offer no hope—not the slightest, even to rid myself of an annoyance," replied Miss Dumont, with the return of some portion of her former dignity; for the perseverance of the attorney perplexed and troubled her exceedingly.
"You know not to what a fate you doom me," said Maxwell, heedless of the lady's rebuke.
"There is no remedy;" and Miss Dumont grasped the door-knob.
"There is a remedy. Bid me wait a month, a year, any time, till you examine more closely your own heart. Give me any respite from hopeless misery."
"You have my answer; and now I trust to your honor as a gentleman to save me from further annoyance," said Miss Dumont, with spirit, for her patience was fast ebbing out.
"I will not annoy you," replied Maxwell, with emphasis, as he assumed an air of more self-possession. "I have been pleading for exemption from the direst of human miseries. But I will not annoy you, even to save myself from endless woe."
"Forget this misplaced affection; for he assured my sentiments will continue unchanged."
"I can never forget it; but I will strive to endure it with resignation. I feel that I must still cherish the presumptuous hope that you will yet relent."
"Destroy not your own peace; for the hope must be a vain one. Good-afternoon;" and the lady departed before the attorney had time to add another hyperbolical profession of a passion which, however well acted, was not half so deeply grounded as he had led the unsuspecting object of it to believe. That he really loved her was to some extent true. That his love was earnest and pure, such as the blight of coldness and inconstancy would render painful, was not true,—far from it. He had sought her hand, not to lay at her feet the offering of a hallowed affection, but to realize the object we have before mentioned,—to enable him, by the possession of her vast wealth, to live a life of ease and pleasure.
He had commenced his attack upon her affections with some prospect of success. To the occasional professional visit he paid her father he had added frequent social calls, in which he had used all his eloquence to enlist the sympathies of the fair daughter. She had regarded him as an agreeable visitor; and, indeed, his natural abilities, the unceasing wit and liveliness of his conversation, had well earned him this distinction. Flattering himself that he should be able to win her affections, he had gradually emerged from the indifference of the mere formalist to the incipient attentions of the devoted lover. These overtures were not well received, and, if she had before treated him with the favor which the agreeable visitor always receives, she now extended to him only the stately courtesy of entire indifference. The visible change in the cordiality of her receptions had opened his eyes, and revealed the nature of his unpromising position. But his disposition was too buoyant, his character too energetic, to allow him to despair.
Latterly, however, a new obstacle to his suit had presented itself, in the person of a rival, upon whom the object of his ambitious wishes appeared to bestow unusual favor. This individual was a young officer in the army, a sort of protegé of the lady's father, who had been spending a furlough at Bellevue. In the matter of fortune Maxwell's rival was not to be dreaded, for he knew the lady was not mercenary in her views. The young captain was penniless; but his family was good, and he had the advantage of being a favorite with the father. He had won for himself a name on the fields of Mexico, which went far to enlist a lady's favor. He was a universal favorite both with the public and in the private circle.
Maxwell considered this young officer a formidable rival, and he resolved to retrieve himself at once. Upon his personal attractions he relied to overcome the lady's disfavor; and, notwithstanding the unequivocal intention of discountenancing his suit she had manifested, he resolved to open his campaign by addressing her, eloquently and tenderly, through the medium of a letter. He felt that he could in this manner gain her attention to his suit,—a point which his vanity assured him was equivalent to a victory. But his philosophy and his vanity were both sorely tried by the return of the letter unopened. His point was lost, and he was harassing his fertile brain with vain attempts to suggest any scheme short of honest, straight-forward wooing,—which the circumstances seemed to interdict,—when the visit of the lady herself rendered further efforts useless.
His position, resting, as it did, on the purpose of marrying the heiress,—a purpose too deeply incorporated with his future prospects to be resigned,—was now a desperate one. Through the long vista of struggles and difficulties he saw his end, and the fact that he had to some extent compromised his heart stimulated him still more to meet and overcome the barriers that environed him.
For an hour after the lady's departure the young lawyer pondered the obstacles which beset him. With the aspect of an angry rather than a disappointed man, he paced the office with rapid and irregular strides. He could devise no expedient. A lady's will is absolute, and he must bend in submission. He blamed his own tardiness one moment, and his precipitancy the next; then he cursed his ill luck, and vented his anger and disappointment in a volley of oaths.
His meditations were again interrupted, by his attendant's announcement of "Mr. Dumont."
"Ah, good-morning, sir! I was just on the point of going to Bellevue. Nothing serious has happened, I trust," said Maxwell, laying aside, with no apparent effort, his troubled visage, and assuming his usual bland demeanor.
"Nothing," replied the visitor, gruffly.
"Your niece left the office an hour since," continued Maxwell. "She requested me immediately to visit your brother."
"Which you have not done," returned the visitor, whom we will style Jaspar, to distinguish him from his brother, Colonel Dumont.
"But which I intend to do at once, a little matter having detained me longer than I supposed it would."
"I will save you the trouble. The business upon which my brother wished to see you was concerning his will."
"Indeed, sir! I hope he is not dangerously ill," said Maxwell, in apparent alarm.
"Not at all. The doctor says he will be out in a week; but he thinks otherwise, and is now engaged in putting his house in order," replied Jaspar, with a sickly smile.
"I am glad he is no worse, though it is better at all times to be prepared for the final event."
"Perhaps it is," said Jaspar, coldly. "Here is a rough draught of the will, which he wishes reduced to the usual form with all possible haste. Will it take you long?"
"An hour or two."
"I will wait, then, as he requested me to bring you with me on my return."
"It shall be done with all possible haste. There are cigars, and the morning papers. Pray make yourself comfortable."
Jaspar seated himself, and lit a cigar, without acknowledging his host's courtesy, while Maxwell applied himself to the task before him. The first part of the will was speedily written; but those parts which alluded to the testator's daughter, foreshadowing the opulence that awaited her, he could not so easily pass over. They were so strongly suggestive of the fortunate lot of him who should wed her, that he could scarcely proceed with the work. An hour before, she had veiled his prospects in darkness; now he was preparing a will which would, at no distant day, place her in possession of a princely fortune. His mind was so firmly fixed upon the attainment of this treasure that it refused to bend itself to the task before him.
Jaspar had finished his cigar, and began to be a little impatient. Thrice he rose from his chair, and looked over the lawyer's shoulder.
"This is an important paper," said Maxwell, noticing Jaspar's impatience, "and must be executed with great care."
"So it is; but the colonel may die before you get it done," observed Jaspar, coarsely, and with a crafty smile, which was not unnoticed by the attorney.
"O, no! I hope not," replied Maxwell, exhibiting the prototype of Jaspar's smile.
A smile! What is it? What volumes are conveyed in a single smile! It is the magnetic telegraph by which sympathetic hearts convey their untold and unmentionable purposes. To the anxious lover it is the bearer of the first tidings of joy. Long before the heart dare resort to coarse, material words, the smile carries the messages of affection. To the villain it reveals the sympathetic purposes of his according fiend. What the lead and line are to the pilot, the smile, the cunning, dissembling smile, is to the base mind. By means of it he feels his way into the heart and soul of his supposed prototype.
Maxwell knew enough of human character to read correctly the meaning of Jaspar's crafty smile. The attorney had long known that he was cold and unfeeling, a bear in his deportment, and sadly lacking in common integrity; but that he was capable of bold and daring villany he had had no occasion to suspect. As he turned to the document again, the base character of the uncle came up for consideration in connection with his suit to the niece. Might not this circumstance open the way to the attainment of his grand purpose?
But, while he considers, let us turn our attention to the development of the history and circumstances of the Dumont family.
"Lorenzo. You loved, and he did love!
Mariana. To say he did
Were to affirm what oft his eyes avouched,
What many an action testified—and yet,
What wanted confirmation of his tongue."
On the right bank of the Mississippi river, a few miles above New Orleans, was situated the plantation of Colonel Dumont, which he had chosen to designate by the expressive appellation of "Bellevue;" though, it would seem, from the level nature of the country, it could not have been chosen on account of any fitness in the term.
In territorial extent, in the number of slaves employed, and in the quantity of sugar annually produced, the plantation of Colonel Dumont was one of the most important on the river. This fact, added to the possession of immense estates in the city, rendered its owner a man of no small consequence in the vicinity. But, more than this, Colonel Dumont was beloved and respected for his many good qualities of mind and heart. In the late war with England he had served in the army, and as an officer had won an enviable distinction by his courage and his talents. Coming unexpectedly into the possession of this estate by the death of an uncle, he retired, at the close of the war, from a profession to which a genuine patriotism alone had invited him, and devoted himself entirely to the improvement of his lands.
Colonel Dumont had been married; but, after a single year of happiness in the conjugal state, his wife died, leaving him an only daughter in remembrance of her. This child, at the opening of the tale, was within a few years of maturity,—the image of her father's only love,—not less fair, not less pure and good.
Emily Dumont was a beautiful girl, fair as the lily, gentle as the dove. She was of a medium height, and of slender and graceful form. Her step was light and elastic, and, if there was any poetry in her light, elegant form, there was more in her easy, fairy-like motion. Her features were as daintily moulded as her form. Her eye was light blue, soft, and beautifully expressive of a pure heart. She was a little paler than the connoisseur in female loveliness would demand in his ideal, and her expression was a little inclined to sadness; but it was a sadness—or rather a sweet dignity—more winning than repulsive to the gazer.
Emily Dumont, highly as fortune had favored her in the bestowal of worldly goods and personal beauty, was still more blessed in the gifts of an expansive mind and a gentle heart; and mind and heart had both been faithfully cultivated by the assiduous care of her devoted father. She was a true woman,—not a mere plaything to while away a dandy's idle hours, not a piece of tinsel to adorn the parlor of a nabob, but a true woman,—one fitted by nature and education to adorn all the varied scenes of life. Although brought up in unclouded prosperity, amid luxury and affluence, she was still prepared for the day of adversity, if it should ever come.
As the heiress of immense wealth, her hand was eagerly sought in the aristocratic circle around her; but thus far she had resisted all these attacks upon her heart, and upon her prospective riches. In the crowd of suitors who gathered around her was Anthony Maxwell. In the item of wealth his fortune was comparatively small; and in that of a noble character, smaller still. Emily could have forgiven him the want of the former, but the latter was imperatively demanded. At the young lawyer's return from the North, and on his first appearance at the bar, Emily had regarded him with more than ordinary attention. But, after the death of his father, the reports which reached her ears of his dissolute habits and inclinations caused her to regard him with distrust. His wit, accomplishments and native suavity, had procured him admission into the circle of her more favored friends. But the report of his vices had as promptly produced his expulsion.
The return of the army from Mexico brought with it the young officer whom we have before mentioned. The father of this young man had been a companion-in-arms of Colonel Dumont, and a strong friendship had grown up between the veterans. The tie was severed only by the death of the former, after a life of mercantile misfortunes, and finally of utter ruin. At the period of the father's insolvency and death, Henry Carroll, the son, was a cadet at West Point, and was about abandoning his chosen profession, for the want of means, when Colonel Dumont wrote him an affectionate letter, offering all that he required to complete his studies. This offer, coming from one who had been a heavy loser by his father's bankruptcy, was highly appreciated, and the young student had allowed no false delicacy to prevent his acceptance of the generous proposal, though with a stipulation to repay all sums, with interest. Colonel Dumont, in his regular summer tour to the North, never failed to visit his young friend, whose noble bearing and lofty principle entirely won his heart, and he charged himself with a father's duty towards him. A regular correspondence was kept up between the self-constituted guardian and his protegé; and the more the former read the heart of the young man, the more did he rejoice that he had befriended him. He read with mingled pride and affection the repeated instances of his daring courage and matchless skill which found their way into the newspapers; while the record of his humanity to a fallen foe contributed to swell the tide of the old gentleman's affection.
On his return from Mexico, Henry's first care was to see his devoted friend and guardian, and he accepted his pressing invitation to spend a month at Bellevue.
As an inmate of her father's family, he was, of course, a constant companion of Emily. Her radiant beauty had captivated his heart long ere the month had expired; and he saw, or thought he saw, in the heart of the fair girl, indications of a sympathetic sentiment. In the rashness of his warm blood he had allowed himself to cherish a lively hope that his dawning love was not entirely unrequited. He had seen that his bouquet was more fondly cherished than the offerings of others; that his hand, as she alighted from the carriage, was more gladly received than any other; that his conversation never wearied her; in short, there was in all their intercourse an unmistakable exponent of feelings deeper than those of common friendship.
In the midst of this delighted existence,—while yet he revelled in the pleasure of loving and being loved,—there came to him, like a dark cloud over a clear sky, the unwelcome thought that it was wrong for him to entangle the affections of his benefactor's daughter. He was a beggar,—the object of her father's charity. Her prospects were brilliant and certain, and he felt that he had no right to mar or destroy them. He knew that she would love him none the less for his poverty; but, probably, her father had already anticipated something better than a beggar for his future son-in-law.
Poor Captain Carroll! The modesty of true greatness of soul had left unconsidered the genuine nobility of the man. He thought not of the name he had won on the field of battle,—of the honorable wounds he bore as testimonials of his devotion to his country. He was poor, and, in the despondency which his position induced, he attributed to wealth a value which to the truly good it never possesses.
He loved Emily, and his poverty seemed to shut him out from the hallowed field to which his heart fondly sought admission.
Henry Carroll was a high-minded man; he felt that to love the daughter while the father's views were unknown to him would be rank ingratitude; and ingratitude towards so good a man, so kind a benefactor, was repugnant to every principle of his nature. There was but one path open to him. If he could not help loving her, he could strive to prevent the loved one from squandering her affections where pain and sorrow might ensue. They had often met; but he strove to believe, in his unwilling zeal, that their intimacy had not yet resulted in an incurable passion. She had as yet shown nothing that could not have resulted from simple friendship. And yet she had,—the warm glow that adorned her cheek when she received his flower, the expressive glance of her soft eye as he assisted her to the carriage, the sweet smile with which she had always greeted him,—ah, no, these were not friendship! I He could not believe that his affection was unreturned; it was too precious to remain unacknowledged. The will and the heart would not conform to each other. But his duty seemed plain, and he did not hesitate to obey its call, though it demanded a great sacrifice.
The month to which he had limited his visit at Bellevue expired about the period at which our tale begins. Inclination prompted him to accept the pressing invitation of Colonel Dumont to prolong his stay; but, bitter as was the thought of parting from her he loved, his nice sense of honor compelled him to be firm in his purpose.
The announcement of his intended departure to Emily, as they were seated in the drawing-room on the designated day, afforded him another evidence that her heart was not untouched. Her pale cheek grew paler, and the playful smile was instantly dismissed.
"So soon?" said she, scarcely able to conceal the tremulous emotion which agitated her.
"So soon! I have finished the month allotted to me," replied Henry Carroll, with a weak effort to appear gayer than he felt.
"Allotted to you! And pray are you stinted in the length of your visit?"
"My orders will not permit a longer stay, happy as I should be to remain; and I have already trespassed long on your hospitality."
"Indeed, Henry, you have grown sensitive! You were not wont to consider your visits a trespass. Pray, have you not been regarded as one of the family?"
"True, I have. I can never repay the debt of gratitude for the many kindnesses I have received at your good father's hands."
"He has been a thousand times repaid by the honorable life you have led,—by feeling that the talents he has encouraged you to foster are now blessing the world," replied Emily, warmly; "so no more of your gratitude, if you please."
"However lightly you, or your father, may regard my obligations to him, I cannot view them coldly."
"Well, then, your presence here will give him more pleasure than any other token of respect you can bestow; and, I am sure, I should be rejoiced—that is to say—that is—I should be glad to have you stay longer, if you can be contented," stammered Emily, as her mantling blushes betrayed her confusion. Deception was not in her nature, and, strive as hard as she might, she must reveal her feelings.
"I should be happier than it is possible for me to express in remaining at Bellevue. My month has passed away like a dream of pleasure,—so short it seemed that time had staid his wheels,—so joyous that earth seemed shorn of sorrow. You know not how much I have enjoyed the society of your father, and, pardon me, of yourself," returned Henry, scarcely less confused than Emily.
"I am glad to hear you say so," she replied, with some hesitation, and fearful of exposing the sentiment she was conscious of cherishing. "I have thought that, accustomed as you are to the stirring life of the camp, you had grown tired of our quiet home."
"You wrong me, Emily, I should never weary here; but I was fearful that I had already staid too long," said Henry, in a sad tone, for he felt it most deeply, though not in the sense that Emily understood him.
"Too long! Then you are weary of us, and I will not chide you forbidding us adieu," said Emily, with a glance of anxiety at Henry.
"Nay, Miss Dumont, do not misinterpret my words. I am not weary, I cannot be weary, of Bellevue and its fair and good inmates."
"Then what mean you by saying you have staid too long?"
"Pardon me, I cannot tell why I said it; but I feel that I should do wrong to prolong my stay, however congenial to my feelings to do so," replied Henry, with the most evident embarrassment.
"How strange you talk, Henry! What mystery is this?" said Emily, to whom prudential motives were unknown.
"If it be a mystery, pray do not press me to unravel it, for I cannot."
His resolution was fast giving way before the strength of his love. He was sorely tempted to throw himself at her feet and pour forth the acknowledgment of his affection, which, he felt, would be kindly received. It was a difficult position for a man of sensitive feelings to be placed in, and he felt it keenly. But the duty he owed to his benefactor seemed imperative.
Emily, on her part, was sadly bewildered by the strangeness of Henry's words; but she had no suspicion of the truth. If she had, perhaps, with a woman's ingenuity, she had devised some plan to extricate him from the dilemma. She was conscious of the strong interest she felt in the man before her; but the fact that she loved him was yet unrecognized. How should it be? She was unskilled in the subtleties even of her own heart. She know not the meaning of love yet. She was conscious of a grateful sensation in her heart; but she had yet to learn that this sensation was that called love in the great world. She began to fear, in her inability to account for Henry's strangeness in any other way, that some secret sorrow weighed heavily upon him.
"I will not press you," said she, in a tone of affectionate sympathy; "but, if you have any sorrow which oppresses you, reveal it to my father, and take counsel against it. My father's house is your home,—at least, we have always endeavored to make it so. Father has always regarded you with the affection of a parent, and taught me to consider you as a brother—"
"A brother!" interrupted Henry, feeling that the relation of brother and sister was too cold for the warmth of his affection; but, instantly banishing the unworthy thought, he continued,
"And so, my pretty sister, you are for the first time entering upon your sisterly relations?"
"The first time! Have I not always given you evidence of a sister's esteem?"
"Pardon me. I only jested," said Henry, as the playful smile left his countenance.
"Do not jest upon serious things, Henry," replied Emily. "But, brother, something troubles you. You cannot deny it. You look so gloomy and sad, and must leave us so suddenly."
"Nay, my sweet sister,—since sister I am permitted to call you,—you must forgive me if I am obstinate just this once."
"I will forgive your obstinacy because you desire it, and not because I am satisfied. Do you know, brother," said she, with a playful smile, "that I suspect you are in love?"
This raillery was intended to have been uttered with a pert archness; but the crimson cheek and tremulous lips entirely defeated the intention.
"Fie, sister! You are jesting now, yourself," replied Henry, with what was intended for a smile, but which, like his assailant's archness, was a signal failure.
Both parties were now in the most unfortunate position imaginable. Neither dared to speak, for fear of disclosing their emotions. Both felt the awkwardness of the silence, and both felt the danger of breaking it. Henry twirled the tassel of the window drapery, and Emily twisted her pocket-handkerchief into every conceivable shape. Henry was the first to gather fortitude enough to venture a remark.
"I must leave you, sister, now that, for the first time, the relation is acknowledged. I assure you, however, that I appreciate the sisterly kindness you have always lavished upon me. And I shall always remember this visit as the happiest period of my life."
"Then I may hope you will often repeat it," replied Emily, sadly.
"However pleasant it would be for me to do so, I fear my duty will be a barrier to my inclination. My future post, you are aware, is Newport."
"And you depart so suddenly, and then seem inclined to make your absence perpetual! But we shall see you where-ever you are. We go to Newport this season, if father's health will permit," returned Emily, with a playful pout.
"I would stay by you,—that is, I would stay at Bellevue forever,—if my duty to your father—I mean to my country—would permit," stammered Henry, much agitated, as he rose to depart.
"I must go and bid farewell to your father," continued he, taking her hand, which he perceived trembled violently, in his own; "and I trust you will remember your absent brother—" kindly, he was about to say, but Emily, attempting to rise, was overpowered by the emotions which she had vainly striven to suppress, and sunk back in a swoon.
Henry summoned assistance, and applied the usual restoratives, but he did not again venture to address her; and, as her pale features exhibited signs of returning consciousness, he hurried from the room.
As the hour of his departure drew near, he bade an affectionate farewell to Colonel Dumont, who was confined to his room by illness. His kind friend used many entreaties for him to prolong his stay, but Henry pleaded his duty, and that the dying request of a brother officer required him to take a journey into Georgia, which would consume some three or four weeks' time. He intended to go to his future station by the way of the Mississippi, and promised that, if any time were left him on his return, he would again visit Bellevue. This, however, he thought was improbable.
Colonel Dumont gave his protegé much good advice, and, as his failing health had infected his usually cheerful spirits, he said that they would probably meet no more in this world. He frankly told him that he should remember him in his will, and wished him ever to regard Emily in the relation of a sister.
This last wish seemed like a positive prohibition of the fond hope he had cherished, of regarding her in a nearer and more tender relation. He congratulated himself on the decision with which he had resisted the temptation to avow his love.
This injunction of Emily's father could be interpreted in two ways,—as a requirement to preserve the present friendly relations, or as a prohibition against his ever making her his wife. The latter method of rendering his meaning seemed to him the most in accordance with their relative positions, and he was compelled to adopt it.
After renewing his thanks to his benefactor, he took his leave with a sad heart, and departed from the mansion which contained his newly-found yet now rejected love.
"Macbeth.—What is 't ye do?
Witches.—A deed without a name."
Shakespeare.
In the management of his estates, Colonel Dumont had, for many years, been assisted by an only brother. This brother was directly the opposite of himself in character, in aims, in everything. Even in his childhood this brother had displayed a waywardness of disposition which gave the promise of much evil in his future years. As the seed sown so was the harvest. Parental instruction, counsel and rebuke, were alike unavailing, and he attained the years of manhood morose and unsympathizing in his disposition, avaricious and hard with his equals, and cruel and unjust towards his inferiors. His selfish mind, his low aims, and his tyrannical character, had long been preparing him for deeds of villany and injustice.
In the earlier years of his life he had been a merchant in New Orleans; but, being universally detested for his meanness and duplicity, in a season of general panic in the financial world he was completely ruined, by the want of those kind offices which are so freely interchanged in the mercantile community. In this dilemma, he asked his brother's assistance. Colonel Dumont examined his affairs, and, considering his position in the community, with the almost hopeless embarrassment of his concerns, concluded that success under these circumstances was impossible. He frankly and kindly informed his brother of his conclusion, and offered him a share in his planting operations. His brother—Jaspar—was sorely wounded in his pride by this reply. It generated in him a sentiment, if not of malignity, at least of hatred, and from that day he was his brother's enemy. Jaspar's business was gone, and he never allowed his spirit of revenge even to interfere with his interest; so he availed himself of his brother's offer.
Colonel Dumont trusted much to the gentle influence of his family circle to soften Jaspar's moroseness, and infuse some principle of charity and love. But these anticipations proved vain. He was cold and taciturn. Business alone could call forth the display of his energy, of which he was possessed of a liberal share. The society of Emily and other ladies he seemed to shun. The gentle influence of domestic life seemed entirely wasted upon him. Colonel Dumont was forced to believe his brother a misanthrope, and no longer strove to soften his character. Emily regarded his coldness as his natural manner, and left him to the full enjoyment of his eccentricity. Between persons of such opposite dispositions there could be, of course, but little sympathy, and that little was entirely upon one side.
The demon of Jaspar's nature displayed itself in the cane-field and in the sugar-house, which Colonel Dumont rarely visited, having intrusted the entire management of the estate to him, his own attention being occupied by the exterior business of the plantation, and by his city possessions. The poor negro, who was compelled to submit to cruel usage and short fare, knew Jaspar's nature better than uncle or niece. His advent among them had been the era from which they dated the life of misery they led—a life so different from that they had been accustomed to under the superintendence of the more Christian brother.
Jaspar Dumont managed the "negro stock" in the true spirit of a demon, and as such the "hands" learned to regard him. Runaways, which, under the mild management of his brother, were rarely known, were common now; and almost the only amusement Jaspar knew was to hunt them down with rifle and bloodhound.
This state of things Colonel Dumont saw, but he did not appreciate the reason of it. Himself a rigid disciplinarian, he wished not to interfere, though the cruelty of Jaspar pained his heart. His failing health had latterly withdrawn his attention still more from the plantation, and Jaspar drew the reins the tighter when he saw that the humane eye was removed from him.
Such was Jaspar Dumont, whom we left in Maxwell's office at the close of our first chapter.
On the day succeeding the departure of Henry Carroll, Colonel Dumont felt himself much weaker in body, and was fully impressed with the conviction that his final sickness had laid its hand upon him. To Emily he had not communicated these gloomy forebodings, and she had discovered no alarming symptoms in his illness. She had no suspicion of the nature of her father's business with Maxwell, and had borne his message to the attorney, as she had often done before, in her frequent visits to New Orleans, though on this occasion, as may be supposed, she felt much delicacy in doing so.
In her absence Colonel Dumont had become more and more impressed with the omens of a speedy dissolution, and in his uneasiness had despatched Jaspar with a draft of his intentions, wishing the attorney to write the will in his office (where he could have his authorities at hand), and return with his brother.
Maxwell considered the will and his own position, while Jaspar lit another cigar. Each was striving to penetrate the thoughts of the other, but neither had the boldness to enter upon the subject which occupied his mind. The lawyer wanted the lady and the fortune, and he had an undefined purpose of obtaining them through the agency of Jaspar, who wanted only the fortune, and had a decided anticipation of being able to retain the attorney in his service. Neither knew the purposes of the other; but each wanted the assistance of the other.
Maxwell, with an absent mind, perused and reperused the first page of Colonel Dumont's instructions. Without a purpose he turned the leaf, and his attention was attracted by the name of his formidable rival, Henry Carroll. He read, with astonishment, a bequest to him of fifty thousand dollars. If it needed anything to complete his discomfiture, this was sufficient. He began to think Colonel Dumont was in his dotage. He had scarcely heard of Captain Carroll until his return from Mexico, and now he was a legatee in the will of a millionaire. With much anxiety he completed the reading of the instructions, fearful that he should find the young officer's name in connection with Emily's. To his great relief he found no such allusion, and again he applied himself to the task of writing out the will.
Jaspar smoked his cigar, glanced occasionally at the newspaper, and stared out of the window. He was evidently lost to all around him, in the workings of his own mind. Now his thoughts seemed to excite him, for his eye glared with an unusual lustre, and his thin lips moved, as if they would disclose the operations of his mind. "Will he do it?" muttered he. "He shall do it, or by —— he shall suffer! I have the means of compelling him. I will use them."
Apparently satisfied with his conclusion, he rose hastily and approached the attorney. A smooth smile—an unwonted expression on his features—seemed to come on demand. Again he looked over the lawyer's shoulder. He saw the name of Henry Carroll, and his former severe expression returned, and his frame was stirred by angry emotions. A half-suppressed oath did not escape the quick ear of the attorney, and he turned to observe the face of his companion. He read at a glance the dissatisfaction which the will occasioned. The reason was plain; and, with the intention of drawing out Jaspar's views, he addressed him.
"This Carroll is a lucky fellow," said he.
"The devil is always the luckiest fellow in the crowd," growled Jaspar, with an oath.
"You are right, sir," returned Maxwell, pleased to see no better feeling between his rival and the uncle.
"But who is this Carroll?" said he.
"A hungry cub, whom the colonel has helped along in the world."
"Well, he has proved himself a brave and skilful officer, and reflects credit on your brother's judgment in the selection of a protegé," returned Maxwell, adroitly.
"The fellow is all well enough, for aught I know, but he has wheedled the colonel out of fifty thousand dollars, and I can never forgive him for that," said Jaspar, in what was intended for a playful tone, but which was designed as a "feeler" of the attorney's conscience.
"But there is still an immense property left, even after deducting the liberal charitable donations," said Maxwell.
"There is, but where does it go to? That whining young cub has divided a hundred thousand with me, and the silly girl has the rest."
"Which will eventually go into the hands of Captain Carroll,—lucky dog, he!" returned Maxwell, striving to provoke Jaspar still more.
"What! what mean you, man?" said Jaspar, with a scowl, as he caught a glimpse of the attorney's meaning.
"Is it possible, my dear sir," said Maxwell, laying down his pen, and turning half round, "is it possible you have not observed the intimacy which has grown up between this Carroll and your niece?"
"Intimacy! what do you mean? Speak out! no equivocation!" said Jaspar, almost fiercely.
"Do you not see that she will yet be the wife of Captain Carroll?"
Jaspar scowled, but said nothing. He had seen nothing from which he could draw such an inference, but he doubted not the information was correct.
"Well, well, it matters not. He may as well have it as she," muttered he. "This will suits me not, and must be broken or altered."
"It is hard upon you," said Maxwell, who had overheard Jaspar's mutterings.
"It is rather hard to be placed upon the same level with a comparative stranger," replied Jaspar, thoughtfully, after a long pause. He had not intended the lawyer should hear his previous remarks, and had reflected whether he should disown them, or pursue the subject as thus opened.
"Of course you will not mention the idle remark I made," continued Jaspar, in a vein of prudence. "My brother has an undoubted right to dispose of his property as he pleases."
"O, certainly. What transpires in my office is always regarded with the strictest confidence, whatever its nature, and however it affects any individual," replied Maxwell, laying peculiar emphasis on the latter clause.
"That's right, always be secret," said Jaspar, without any of the appearance of obligation for the favor which the attorney expected to see.
"I have secrets in my possession which would ruin some of the best families in the State of Louisiana."
"Without doubt," replied Jaspar, coldly.
The attorney resumed his writing, and pronounced in an audible tone each sentence as he committed it to the paper.
"To my beloved brother—Jaspar Dumont—I give and bequeath the sum of fifty thousand dollars."
These words, as intended, again fired Jaspar's passions.
"Is there no remedy for this?" asked he, hastily.
"No legal remedy," replied Maxwell, indifferently, as he continued his task.
"Is there any, legal or illegal?"
"None that an honest man would be willing to resort to."
"That any man would resort to?" and Jaspar was not a little provoked at the attorney's moral inferences.
"I know of none."
"Then why do you not put it into operation before it is too late? The will is now nearly written."
"Pshaw! man; you do not understand me. A bolder step than you are thinking of."
"Well, what do you wait for?"
"I need assistance."
"If I can afford you any aid, honorably, I shall be most happy."
"Honorably! What the devil do you mean by honorably?" said Jaspar, exasperated by this unexpected display of morality.
"What do I mean by honorably? Why, anything which does not affect the legal or moral rights of others," replied Maxwell, a little touched by the seeming reflection of Jaspar.
"Fudge! how long have you been so conscientious?" sneered Jaspar.
"When a man has a reputation to make or break, it becomes him to handle it with care."
"Out upon you, man! Your reputation is not so fair, that you need be so tender of it," replied Jaspar, with some severity.
"Sir!"
"O, you needn't 'sir' me! You have led me to commit myself, and now assume a virtue you possess not."
"Sir, I value my reputation, and—"
"Of course you do, but you would not sacrifice a fortune for it," interrupted Jaspar, easily changing the tenor of the conversation.
"I certainly would not stain it unnecessarily," replied Maxwell, with a meaning smile, for he saw the folly of attempting the "high flight" with Jaspar.
"Now you talk sensibly," said Jaspar.
"Mr. Dumont, it is useless to beat about the bush any longer; if you have any proposition to make, out with it at once; and if I cannot aid you, I will, at least, keep your secret."
"Will you swear never to reveal what I shall propose?"
"Yes, if paid for it," said Maxwell, frankly.
"It is well. Now, I will put you in the way of making ten thousand dollars, if you so will," said Jaspar, slapping the attorney on the back with a familiarity which was likely to breed contempt.
This was a tempting offer, and Maxwell prepared to listen to the proposition. He was aware that it was some design upon the estate of Colonel Dumont, and he inwardly resolved to be a gainer by the operation, whether he joined in it or not.
Jaspar Dumont laid aside his sternness, and disclosed his plot to Maxwell. It was, as may be supposed, a nefarious scheme, and not only intended to deprive Henry Carroll of his legacy, but also to disinherit the heiress, and cast a stigma upon the character of his brother.
The plot we will not here disclose.
Maxwell listened attentively, occasionally interrupting the speaker, by asking for details, or pointing out dangers But the foul wrong intended towards her for whom he entertained warmer sentiments than those of friendship shocked even his hardened sensibilities, and he strongly objected to its consummation. It would also, by stripping her of her broad lands, and stigmatizing her birth, render her undesirable as a wife. But Jaspar was firm in his purpose, and refused to listen to any other scheme. This one, he contended, was the safest and surest.
"But it is a diabolical transaction," suggested Maxwell.
"Call it what you will, it is the only one that will work well."
Maxwell remained silent. He was studying to make this scheme subservient to his own purpose. He was obliged to confess to himself that his hopes with the heiress were worse than folly, and he judged that the execution of Jaspar's scheme would remove his rival. He looked forward years, and saw his own purpose gained by means of Jaspar's plan. It was true that he and Jaspar both could not have her estates; but then Jaspar was a villain, and it would be a good service, at a convenient season, to be a traitor to him. His plans were arranged, and he determined to encourage his companion to proceed, though, at the same time, to seem unwilling, and to keep his own hands clean from all participation in it.
After this long interval of silence, which Jaspar had endured with patience, for he recognized the truth of the saying, that "He who deliberates is damned," Maxwell said,
"I cannot consent to stain my hands with such gross injustice."
"You cannot!" sneered Jaspar.
"It would ruin me."
"It was part of my intention to keep the transaction a secret," said Jaspar, sarcastically.
"Of course, and your confidence in me shall not be misplaced."
Jaspar's fists were clenched, and a demoniacal expression rested on his countenance, as he said, savagely,
"You know your own interest too well to do otherwise."
"I am not to be intimidated," replied Maxwell, who despised his companion most heartily, and did not relish his tyrannical manner. "Your confidence, I repeat, is safe. Honor will keep your secret,—threats will not compel me to do so."
"Honor! ha, ha, ha!" chuckled Jaspar. "Do you know, Maxwell, that you are a —— fool, to talk to me of your honor?"
"Would you insult me, sir?" said, Maxwell, with vehemence.
"O, no, my fine fellow! Your honor!—ha, ha!" returned Jaspar, taking from his pocket a little slip of paper. "Look here, my honorable worthy, do you know this check?"
Maxwell's face assumed a livid hue, and a convulsive tremor passed through his frame, as he read the check.
In a moment of temporary embarrassment he had been tempted to forge the name of Colonel Dumont to this check, for five hundred dollars, to liquidate a debt of honor, not doubting that he should be able to obtain it again before the day of settlement at the bank, by means of a dissolute teller, a boon companion at the gaming-table. But Colonel Dumont, in arranging his affairs for their final settlement, had sent Jaspar for a statement of his bank account at an unusual time. Jaspar, who, in the illness of his brother, had managed all his business, immediately discovered the forgery. Without disputing its genuineness, he ascertained who had presented it, and traced the deed to the attorney, and thus obtained a hold upon him which was peculiarly favorable to the execution of his great purpose.
"You see I have not laid myself open to your fire without fortifying my position," said Jaspar, enjoying, with hearty relish, the discomfiture of the lawyer. "Now, no more of honor to me. I have kept your secret for my own interest, and now you will keep mine from the same motive."
"But I dare not do this thing," replied Maxwell, keenly sensitive to the weakness of his position; "I lack the ability."
"You have signed the colonel's name once very well; perhaps you can do it again," sneered Jaspar, who had no mercy for an unwilling servant.
"It will not be for your interest or mine that I should do it," returned Maxwell, determined, if possible, to avoid committing himself.
"Why not?" said Jaspar.
"My frequent visits to Bellevue would subject me to suspicion. I am known. Another would not be suspected. If I clear myself, I shall clear you at the same time. I can procure a person who will accomplish all in safety."
"Think you I will trust another man with the possession of the secret?"
"I shall compromise my own safety by writing the will, as you propose."
"True,—who is this person?"
"His name is—" and Maxwell hesitated; then a severe fit of coughing apparently prevented his uttering the name—"his name is Antoine De Guy."
"Do I know him?"
"You do, I think,—a kind of street lawyer,—you must have met him at the Exchange."
"What looking man is he?"
"About fifty years of age," replied Maxwell, more thoughtful than the simple description of a person would seem to require,—"rather corpulent, black hair and whiskers, intermixed with gray,—dresses old-fashioned, and always looks rusty."
"I do not remember him,—De Guy—De Guy," said Jaspar, musing; "no, I do not know him. Are you confident he can be trusted?"
"Perfectly confident. I pledge my own safety on his fidelity," replied Maxwell, not a little satisfied at gaining his point,—for he had a point, and a strong one, as the reader may yet have occasion to know.
"Very good,—I will inquire about him."
"And expose us both!" replied Maxwell, in much alarm.
"True,—on reflection, it would not be wise, and it would be best for you and I not to be seen together. But finish the will; the colonel will not relish my long absence. A word more: do not say anything about this will. The colonel has a fancy to keep it secret, and this fancy will be the salvation of our scheme."
But we will not follow the conversation any further. The reader has obtained a sufficient knowledge of these worthies from their own mouths, to believe them capable of any villany they may be called upon to perpetrate.
The plot was further arranged in all its details. A meeting with De Guy was fixed for the next day, when all parties were to be prepared to act their parts.


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Welsh Nationality Room, Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh: dedicated June 1, 2008, Heinz Memorial Chapel
The Irish Room in the Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh: formal opening, Saturday afternoon, May 18, 1957, at four o'clock in the Commons Room
Presentation of five historical Hungarian windows to the University of Pittsburgh: Sunday afternoon, October 28, 1956 at 3 p.m., Commons Room, Cathedral of Learning
Presentation of the Fairy Tale Windows in the German Classroom of the Cathedral of Learning to the University of Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania: Sunday afternoon, February 7, 1954, Commons Room, Cathedral of Learning
English Room in the Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh: November 21, 1952, eight o'clock
Formal dedication of the Italian Room, Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh: Saturday, May 14, 1949, 3:00 o'clock, in the Commons Room
Formal opening of the Norwegian Room, Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh: Saturday evening, May 15, 1948, at 8:30 in the Commons Room
The French Classroom in the Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh
The Syria-Lebanon Classroom in the Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh
The Italian Classroom in the Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh
The Romanian Classroom, Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh: dedication ceremony, May 16, 1943, Commons Room
Informal opening of the French Classroom, Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh: Saturady afternoon, January 23, 1943, at 3:00 in the Commons Room
The Yugoslav Classroom in the Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh
The Greek Classroom in the Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh
The Hungarian Classroom in the Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh
The Lithuanian classroom in the Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh
The German Classroom in the Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh
The China Memorial Classroom in the Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh
The Syria-Lebanon Room in the Cathedral of Learning, University of Pittsburgh: formal opening, June 28, 1941, Commons Room - Cathedral terraces


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Home » Books » Private Eye Super Pack Vol 2 - Six Complete Novels
Private Eye Super Pack Vol 2 – Six Complete Novels by Brash Admin
Six very hardboiled private eye novels by six acclaimed, award-winning authors in one volume.
Snowball by Jimmy Sangster
James Reed is an ex-Scotland Yard detective who became the bodyguard, then lover, then husband, then ex-husband of Hollywood superstar Katherine Long. Now he's a self-styled beach bum, living in the Malibu beachhouse he got in the divorce settlement, and making a half-assed effort at screenwriting. But then Katherine comes back into his life — and asks him to save her daughter, who is embroiled in a $2 million scheme involving stolen drugs, high-powered studio execs, and ruthless mob killers.
"Smooth, sharp, believeable, well-written." New York Times
A Witness Above by Andy Straka (Frank Pavlicek #1)
Ex-NYPD Detective Frank Pavlicek now works as a private investigator and hunts with a trained falcon. While hunting, he discovers the corpse of a black, teenage drug dealer with ties to his daughter.
"Pavlicek is a breath of fresh air in the field of private eye fiction." Jeffery Deaver
Low End of Nowhere by Michael Stone (Streeter #1)
Bounty hunter/PI Streeter is hired by the scheming woman he nailed for insurance fraud to go after her dead boyfriend's stash of drug money… and has to single-handedly face off against a greedy, violent pack of lowlifes and sociopaths killing their way to the big score.
"A classic hardboiled novel filled with beautiful women, dimwitted thugs, and a private eye who is too cocky for his own good…a lot of fun." Denver Post
The Charleston Knife is Back in Town by Ralph Dennis (Hardman #2)
Ex-cop Jim Hardman is hired to find five kids who've ripped off a high-stakes gambling party, recover the loot, and save them from being butchered by a hitman from Charleston with a very sharp knife.
"Exceptional characterization, strong and vigorous prose, and a glimpse into a place and timethat has long since disappeared." Mystery Scene Magazine
The Missing and the Dead by Jack Lynch (Bragg #2)
PI Peter Bragg is pitted against a brilliant serial killer obsessed with the expressions of death on his victim's faces. This novel was an Edgar Award Finalist, the Oscar of Mystery writing, given by the Mystery Writers of America.
Sleeping Dog by Dick Lochte
A New York Times Book of the Year, A Nero Wolfe Award Winner, an Edgar Award Finalist, A Shamus Award Finalist and an Anthony Award Finalist. Leo Bloodworth, a hard-drinking, middle-aged Los Angeles PI with hypertension and a low tolerance for precious teenagers, teams up with Serendipity Dahlquist, a bright and strong-willed roller-blading 14-year-old searching for her lost dog. But things quickly escalate, plunging the oddest of odd couples into the dark underworld of sunny Southern California and pitting them against one of the biggest, and most brutal, organized crime families in Mexico.
Books by Brash Admin
Hardboiled Women
The best books by four highly-acclaimed female crime writers, all in one action packed volume
Pure Action Four Pack Volume 2: Four Complete Novels
FOUR pulse-pounding action novels by FOUR acclaimed authors in ONE scorching volume.
Five brutally realistic police procedurals by five acclaimed crime novelists in one volume
Pure Action Four Pack
Four explosive, high-intensity action novels in one power-packed volume
Private Eye Super Pack Vol 2 – Six Complete Novels
Private Eye Super Pack – Six Complete Novels
Six incredible, critically-acclaimed, award-winning, private eye novels in one thrilling, action-packed volume
Contemporary Western Four Pack
Four Incredible, Wildly Acclaimed Contemporary Western Crime Novels in One Ebook Collection...DOUBLE WIDE, OUTSIDE THE LAW, DEAD MAN'S BADGE and EL CAMINO DEL RIO.
Superspy Superpack
Five highly-acclaimed spy novels by two masters of the genre in one action-packed volume
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