Reclaimed; or, The mountain castle mystery; an international romance

Chapter I. Serpent Enters Eden

“Are you aware, Robert, that to-day is the fifth anniversary of our wedding?” asked the countess, as husband and wife were sitting in a luxuriously furnished apartment of the old castle, while their two little girls, Dena and Lena, were playing on a rug in the midst of numerous playthings.

“Quite well aware of that interesting fact, dear Lucretia,” replied Count Robert Wendling; “and in proof that I have not been unmindful of the occasion, I now present you with a token of my regard;” thereupon withdrawing from an inner pocket of his coat a small parcel, and unwrapping it, disclosed a beautiful gem-set jewel case which he handed to the countess.

Receiving the present with a radiant smile, she pressed a small button, when the lid flew open, exposing to view a diamond and pearl necklace of surpassing elegance and beauty. An exclamation of delight and surprise escaped her as she gazed at it. The little girls left their play and came and stood by their mother’s knee, clapping their hands gleefully. “Oh, how magnificent! How beautiful!” she reiterated, as, holding the necklace up, the luster and glitter of the exquisite gems were fairly dazzling.

“Let me place it around your neck, dear,” he said. When this was done, she arose, surveyed herself in an opposite mirror, then threw her shapely arms around his neck and pressed her ruby lips to his.

“I am glad you are pleased with the present,” said he, “for it is my constant aim to try to make you happy.”

“I know it, O, how well I know it!” she replied, with emotion. “I thank God every day, for such a dear husband, such sweet, prattling children and such a magnificent home. My happiness is complete; may no evil influence ever come to blight it !”

“Amen !” responded the count.

At this point a youth appeared at the door with the daily mail for the castle which the count received and proceeded to examine. One letter particularly attracted his attention, which he opened and read, while his face wore a look of annoyance, as though the communication was of disagreeable import.

“This letter,” he announced, “is from Casper Volrath, now at Berlin, who writes me an appeal for aid. Says that/since his wife died, three years ago, his investments have become losses, is reduced to penury, with the boy, Fritz, on his hands. Asks me to keep the boy, and help him (Casper) to funds or to a position of some sort

That, although he has led a rather fast life, he has now resolved to reform and do better in the future. While I have held that father was too harsh in disinheriting Ruth for eloping with and marrying Volrath, against all our protests, yet I never had any confidence in Volrath. I had hoped he would continue to avoid me. What do you think about it?”

“Your father was unduly harsh with Ruth in disinheriting and disowning her for her disobedience; and I also feel pity for her surviving husband and son in their present distress. I believe in assisting and lifting up the unfortunate. They are poor and we are rich. We can afiford to be charitable. Give Casper and his boy a chance, Robert.”

“If I hesitate to go to the relief of Volrath in this matter, Lucretia, it is because I believe, from the scant information I have obtained, that he is to blame for his present unhappy condition. He inherited a fine fortune. It is gone. How, I don’t know. It is known that he frequented the gambling houses of Monte Carlo ; that his career has been that of a sport. He admits that he has led a fast life, but intends to reform. If sure of his sincerity I would cheerfully advance him enough money to set him up in business; but I have misgivings about it.”

“Don’t advance any money, Robert, but give him the position of business manager which is now vacant. I am sure he is capable of filling it. And the boy should be put to school. That would be splendid for both of them.”

“All right, Lucretia, it shall be as you suggest. I will offer him the position at an increased salary. The boy shall also be taken care of. ,,

Wendling castle, the home of the present count, and of his ancestors, back into the dim and misty past, was an ancient but well-preserved structure, situated in a pleasant valley near a rapid mountain stream which empties into the Elbe river about a mile belov^, the whole valley and contiguous mountains comprising the Wendling domain, being in the midst of a picturesque region of the Lusatian mountains in the southern part of Saxony.

Count Robert Wendling was, at the time this story commences — about the year i860 — in the prime of life, possessing intellectual attainments of a high order, a prepossessing personal appearance and pleasing address, by reason of which he enjoyed great popularity. By virtue of his title he occupied a seat in the legislative body and was developing the highest qualities of statesmanship.

The Countess Lucretia, who was the daughter of a nobleman of a neighboring province, was a lovely and accomplished woman. She was a pronounced beauty and possessed a rare fascination of manner which rendered her a bright particular star in the social firmament.

The count and countess had but two children, twin daughters, about four years old at the time at which this story begins. Dena was a bright, mischievous sprite, having an olive, pink-tinted complexion, black eyes and hair, full crimson lips and rounded oval cheeks. She was a miniature counterpart of her mother. Lena favored her father, having deep blue eyes, fair complexion and gold-tinted brown hair. She was more sedate and thoughtful than her sprightly sister. Both children were unusually bright and intelligent, and each had the most perfect beauty to be found in her respective type. Of course they were the idols of the household, including all the servants and tenants on the estate, and none could refrain from loving them.

An early reply was received from Casper Volrath, gratefully accepting the overtures made by the count. The letter stated that the former and his boy would start for Wendling castle almost immediately. While Robert and Lucretia are awaiting their arrival, allow us to briefly review the career of Casper Volrath.

Years before, Volrath had induced Ruth Wendling to elope with and marry him, the union being forbidden by the elder Wendling. They thereafter led a wandering life. In the course of years Volrath had squandered the greater part of his once ample fortune in gambling, dissipation and extravagance. It had only taken a brief time for him to break the charm of the glamor he had thrown over his fair, sensitive young wife when he married her; and not many years elapsed until her health had failed under the strain his vicious life had placed upon her tender shoulders. Her happiness had been transformed to misery when he had let his real character, his vile nature, gain the ascendancy over the polished and gentlemanly bearing which had .won her affections; and, poor woman, she had found, too late, she was married to a dissipated roue and gambler. This knowledge, and the habitual neglect and abuse with which he treated her undermined her health, and her death ensued, which last mentioned was a mercy, for she thereby escaped much impending misery. But Volrath was the only person who knew this; for the sufferer had borne her wrongs in silence. Volrath was careful to give out the impression that her demise had caused him untold agony and sorrow.

His union with the count’s sister had resulted in giving them one child, a boy they had named Fritz, who was now about fifteen years old. This boy, raised under the tutelage of such a father, was, as might have been expected, “a chip of the old block he being precocious, cruel and vicious beyond his years.

Volrath and his boy arrived at the castle, after a brief delay, and he forthwith played the part of a disconsolate, heart-broken widower, laying all the blame of his “business losses” to distracting grief over the early death of his “dearly beloved wife.” His representations were, apparently, so sincere that the count and countess received him much more kindly than otherwise they would have done. The good impression, thus made, was carefully noted by the schemer and he determined to profit by it.

Volrath at once entered upon his duties as steward of the estate. The business had been much neglected of late, and the count soon felt greatly gratified that he had secured such a good manager as Volrath immediately proved himself to be.

Volrath did his best, because he considered it good policy. Meanwhile he began planning and plotting to get the count and his two little girls out of the way, so that his son, Fritz, might inherit the count’s title and vast wealth, as, with those three persons removed, Fritz would be the only heir. With this object in view the villain had accepted employment at the castle. From the first he was all deference, all hypocrisy, all dissimulation. It was essential for him to gain the good will and confidence of his intended victims before trying to work his plot, upon which he brooded day and night. His scheme was far-reaching, for it not only included the killing of the count and his two little girls, but involved a purpose to eventually marry the countess, with whom he had already become' infatuated, although she did not suspect it.

About half a year had elapsed and the affairs of the Wendling estate were very much improved by Volrath’s skillful handling of the business. By this time, too, he had improved his standing.

The legislative body of which Count Wendling was a member, was about to assemble at Dresden, and the countess decided to accompany her husband for a brief visit with friends and to do some shopping in the city Accordingly the car-' riage was ordered out, and the count, countess,’ Dena, Lena and Mary Schultz, the waiting maid, all being in readiness, entered it. ■

“Now, Casper,” said the count, “I expect to be away for some time, but my folks will return in three days. I hope you will not neglect them in any way because of business.” 4

“Rest assured, Count,” Volrath suavely answered, “I shall do all in my power to serve them. While attending to your business carefully, I shall also charge myself with the pleasant duty of seeing that they have every attention.”

The count and countess respectively shook hands with him, and, after a cheery “good-bye,” the carriage rolled away.

Chapter II. A Conspiracy

Casper Volrath stood with folded arms and watched the vehicle crossing the draw-bridge, as he murmured to himself :

“She grows more maturely beautiful as she gets older. I think I have made some progress in her good graces, and with the coming opportunity expect to deepen that good impression. If my plans do not miscarry, I expect to appear to her as a hero and her savior from a fate worse than death, in the trying hour I am now preparing for her. I shall expect her to regard me as her best friend when her afflictions shall enable me to defend her. The love I feel for her absorbs my whole soul, and nothing but its requital by her will appease my passion. THERE ARE OBSTACLES TO SURMOUNT, LIVES IN THE WAY. What do I care? They must be removed. All is fair in love and war, and I shall try what can be done by strategy, by cunning, and by playing upon the chances which fate has given me. Ah! how grand to see Fritz wearing, the honors of this ancient house, the owner of this vast estate, and I the husband of the lovely countess and the nominal master of the grand establishment. Shrewdness and decisive work will bring it to pass. It shall be so, I swear it !”

While the designing villain was thus soliloquizing, a tall, muscular, dark-visaged man, clad in the costume of a mountaineer, emerged from a clump of bushes close at hand, and stepping up behind Volrath, slapped him on the shoulder, at the same time, in a deep bass voice, saying : “Plotting as usual, Fll be bound !”

Volrath whirled about, cast a swift glance all around, and answered:

“Why, Gus Monk, how you startled me! Yes, I am plotting, and the plot thickens !”

By common consent, the two evident cronies walked off to a secluded spot in the grounds, out of the reach of eye witnesses and eavesdroppers, and seated themselves upon a rustic bench.

“I overheard your parting interview, and think they have arranged their movements just to suit us.”

“I think so, too ; we couldn’t find a better time. Now is the time to open the ball. ‘Nothing venture, nothing have.’ ”

“Yes, a good chance, and I’m with you, if we can agree on terms. It’s awfully risky, and ’twill take a whole lot of money to induce me and my men to do the job. Since fickle fortune frowned so coldly upon us at the gaming tables of Monte Carlo, no such bonanza as this has shown up, and we’d better improve the opportunity. As I told you yesterday, at the Mountain Inn, my band of brigands are bold, stalwart and as tenacious as bull-dogs. If you want us, we are ready. What is your plan?”

The Mountai n Castle Mystery i i

"Well,” replied Volrath, deliberately lighting a cigar, "when the countess returns from Dresden, I want you and a few of your most trusted men to intercept the carriage at Red Pass, and capture the whole party. Remember, I don’t want a man in the gang but those you can trust implicitly, as this is the most delicate job we ever undertook. None will do who are liable to blunder, or make a mistake, or that are liable to 'squeal’ if caught. Drug the whole party. Have the two little girls carried down to the 'Haunted Ruins’ on the bank of the river, where they are to be delivered to a man and his wife, who will at once start down the river on a house-boat, bound for America. That couple are greedy and secretive, and I have bribed them to carry off the children. Afterwards they are to drown the kids, at sea, in such a way as to seem an accident, for which I am to pay them a thousound dollars upon their sending me satisfactory proof of their death. So they will never be seen again here or elsewhere. The immigrants are not to know the identity of the kids. You must have one of your best men accompany them to Hamburg and help them aboard the outgoing steamer, so we may be sure they don’t give it away or fail to get off at once.”

"Yes, I see. I have the very man for that part of the job; so that will be done all right.”

"After you’ve chloroformed the party, drive them to the Giant’s Cave and have them inside, and at the proper time I will rush to the rescue of the countess and valiantly fight your gang, single-handed, in her presence. We must make a display of our weapons, but you must instruct your men to fall back before my onslaught, and after quite a struggle they must pretend to be vanquished and take to flight, in wild disorder, while I chase them from the cave.

“I will then return to and liberate the countess and be accepted as her hero and rescuer, besides my action will ward off suspicion of my complicity in the scrape. I will then get them all into the carriage and drive them home.

“The count will be notified. He will pursue you with a posse. Of course I will be with them. You must form an ambuscade among the rocks, beyond the inn, with your full force. Be sure to slay him and wound or kill a few others. Thus it will look like a popular up-rising, and not a personal affair. When I order a retreat, then get to a distance at once and go into hiding.

“Now, Gus, you know the whole scheme; will you undertake the job?”

“How much boodle are you prepared to put up?”

“You shall have ten thousand dollars for yourself and one thousand dollars, each, for five of your best men. Of course, you know this money will have to be paid on the installment plan, as fast as I can raise it.”

“I accept your terms, and will undertake the job. As for the pay, I know you can easily raise the money, one way or another, and I will see that you do it. It won’t do to work any "can’t pay’ rackets on me.”

The two villains shook hands and parted.

Monk starting up a mountain canyon, while Volrath saddled a horse, mounted, and rode away down the river road.

Half an hour later he alighted at the “Haunted Ruins,” before mentioned. A small house-boat, such as fishermen use on the river was tied to a tree on the bank. Directly a middle-aged man and woman came out of the old ruins and joined him. Volrath shook hands with them and all engaged in conversation, in which he explained to them that three days hence the two children would be brought to them, with a good man to go along, who would help them get their goods aboard the American-bound steamer. The others seemed satisfied, and assured him they would be ready to start as soon as the children arrived. He gave them some money and rode away.

A happy, satisfied, evil smile played upon his lips, as he rode along the river road on his return to the castle.

There was no struggle with his conscience, for that poor, outraged God-given monitor had long since been strangled in an evil life. There was only a cool calculation of the chances for and against himself in this plot, that exercised his mind. There was no thought of the great trouble, the long sorrow, the deep anguish which his accursed plot would bring upon one of the noblest families in Saxony, to disturb this villain’s mind as he rode along.

There was only a feeling of exultation in his heart. His sordid, mercenary plans were about to be consummated, and he felt that he was once more on the high road to success. He mentally saw his son, Fritz, the proud possessor of the Wendling millions, wearing the insignia and bearing the titles which had graced the name of the distinguished and honorable family for a thousand years. Then he saw, or seemed to see, himself, the practical head of all this greatness; and he seemed to hear his boon companions, in the flashy resorts of Monte Carlo, extolling his high merits and telling of the glories he was enjoying. He could almost feel the gold pieces which he would soon be expending with a lavish hand. He smacked his lips as he thought of the grand dinners which he would soon be giving to a chosen few of his friends in all the great capitals of Europe. Then he thought of the countess, and his heart leaped as he imagined he would soon win her confidence by his heroism ( ?) in her defense. He wondered how long it would take him, after her husband had been “removed,” to win his way to her heart and have her throw her lovely arms around his neck and say she would marry him.

Such was the day-dream which filled this villain’s mind as he rode slowly along homeward. And now, let this narrative give the details of how this plot was carried out and the results of it.

CHAPTER III. THE capture in red pass

In the mean time the count and family had proceeded to Dresden, where they had spent a couple of days in the bright gayeties of the city, among select friends ; improved the opportunity to do some shopping, visited the opera of evenings where a famous prima donna was performing, and had been present at a banquet given in their honor by some of the elite of the capital.

As they were passing the magnificent showwindow of an attractive jewelry store, they involuntarily paused to glance at the elegant display of fine goods.

“Oh, mamma!” exclaimed Dena, with childish glee, “just see those lovely necklaces, with the cutest little lockets to them. Aren’t they sweet? Please buy me one!”

“Me, too,” chimed in Lena, with animation.

“That reminds me, Robert,” remarked the countess, “that I had intended to procure for each of the girls, a necklace with a locket attached containing our pictures, and should have forgotten it but for this reminder. These appear to be just what I want, only they seem a trifle too large for such small children, yet the girls will grow to them ere long. Let us enter and purchase them/'

“All right, Lucretia,” he replied, well pleased with the idea, as they entered the store, the children dancing around them with delight. In a short time the girls were wearing two of the most beautiful necklaces and lockets, from the jeweler’s stock, with tiny pictures of their father and mother inserted in each of the lockets, and the children’s names engraved on the back covers. The lockets were diamond encrusted, of the most tasteful shape and exquisite workmanship. The mother snapped them around the necks of her darlings, with a kiss, and with the injunction that they must keep them all their lives; but she little thought that those trinkets were destined to play an important part in her life. They then proceeded to their hotel, where the evening was pleasantly passed in the seclusion of their elegant apartments. It was a delightful evening for them, for, on the morrow they were to part for a time. In their felicity, they had no premonition of the fearful shadow so soon to lower over their pathway.

At an early hour, the following morning, the count gallantly and lovingly handed his wife and children into their carriage, where he kissed them good-bye, then shook hands with his faithful coachman, bowed adieu to the waiting maid and watched them move away, while the little girls leaned out of the windows to throw him a parting kiss.

About the middle of the afternoon, having traveled rapidly along a smooth road, on the bank of the Elbe, through enchanting scenery, their course diverged from the river and entered the mountains. Long and tortuous ascents were succeeded by equally arduous and dilatory descents; anon winding around the mountain’s craggy brow, or cautiously moving along the rim of a dizzy precipice, until the travelers entered a dark, yawning and narrow defile known as Red Pass.

“I declare, Mary Schultz,” exclaimed the countess, shuddering, “this is the gloomiest place I ever saw; and 1 never go through it without dismal trepidation, and whenever I enter its gloomy shadows I am oppressed with dire forebodings of lurking danger.”

The girl was about to reply, when the occupants of the carriage were fairly frozen with horror, by hearing a stentorian voice in front of them peremptorily issue out this command to the coachman :

“Halt! Drop them lines and hold up your hands!”

This portentious mandate was enforced by the death-dealing muzzles of several large revolvers which were staring the startled coachman in the face. The latter obeyed the order with alacrity. The carriage came to a sudden stop, while one of Gus Monk’s bandits seized the bits of the horses and another compelled the coachman to alight. Others formed around the carriage. They were all large, active men, with bronzed faces, covered with heavy beards, which gave them a fierce aspect. Their mountaineer dress added greatly to the effect; and it was no wonder that they frightened the coachman, who as soon as he reached the ground, stammered :

“If m — money’s w — what you w — want, you c — can ha — have all I — I’ve g — got!”

“Then hand it out here and be quick about it,” replied one of the men, as he pocketed the purse which the coachman produced, adding: “but money’s not the main object of this here expedition.”

Then the coachman was quickly bound and laid upon the ground, and, presently, chloroform was applied to his nostrils, and he knew no more of the exciting scenes transpiring around him.

They next proceeded to treat the women and children to the same kind of doses, and, speedily, all of them were in a deep, unconscious sleep.

The two little girls were borne swiftly away in the arms of two of the swarthy outlaws, who took a path which led toward the Haunted Ruins.

Monk now entered the carriage and the driver was put inside with him, while Burk and the other outlaws took the driver’s seat, and the rig was driven rapidly away.

The route to the Giant’s Cave was an unfrequented road which ran through a heavy forest. The ground was uneven, and, to avoid arousing the prisoners, by the continual jolting which occurred, Monk frequently applied his saturated handkerchief to their nostrils, which kept them quiet for the remainder of the trip, and longer.

At length the cave was reached, the team hitched to a tree and the unconscious prisoners carried inside and deposited in recumbent positions at the further side ; and, returning to near the entrance, they brought from a niche in the rocky wall, some liquor and provisions. After imbibing freely of the liquor they proceeded to devour the victuals.

Directly, they were joined by one of the bandits who had carried off the children. They had been talking in guarded tones about the nefarious work in which they were enngaged, when Monk turned to the returned outlaw and asked :

“How about the kids, Bill? Did you deliver them all right?”

“We did,” the latter answered, furtively glancing at the motionless figures of the captives. “They gave us no trouble, and we reached the Haunted Ruins just as the immigrants had got the last of their chattels aboard the house-boat. They stripped the kids of all their finery, and packed it away in a box; then they togged them out in rough, common garments and wooden shoes; after which they cropped off their ringlets, stained their faces, necks and hands with some brown liquid which made them look swarthy. The way they look now, their own mother wouldn’t know them. Blamed if I didn’t think they were other than the ones we took there, when I seed them in their disguise. The immigrants don’t know whose kids they are, and don’t seem to care. They pulled out into the current before I left. They ought to be safely on the outward-bound steamer sometime next week, and you bet, Tom will see that they are. You’ll never hear from them again, alive, after Tom leaves them on that steamer.”

The outlaws had by this time concluded their meal and went back to look after the prisoners. The latter had recovered consciousness, and manifested some alarm as the men approached them. The coachman stammered worse than before, as he pleaded for his release. The men smiled, grimly, in amused scorn. The waiting maid flew into a hysterical fit, when she found herself surrounded by these fierce-looking men, who smiled at her state of excitement. The countess acted more rational than her maid, although but little less agitated. With copious tears coursing down her face, she exclaimed:

“Oh, sir, whoever you are, tell me why you have seized and brought us to this dismal place ! What have you done with my darling little children? They are not here. In Heaven’s name, what have you done with them? Tell me, I implore you !”

Chapter IV. The Broken Home

Monk stood and looked at the beautiful woman, stolidly, with his arms folded across his breast; while his demeanor toward her gave her no idea of what was passing in his mind.

He was really thinking about the probability that, if everything went as they planned, this woman would, sooner or later, become the wife of his partner, Volrath; and he could not avoid shuddering for the lovely,' sorrowing lady who would so soon be rendered a widow, and childless, through his own agency. However, these better thoughts lasted but a minute, and then he felt like congratulating Volrath upon his prospect of securing such a lovely wife. Yet, his tones were very suave, as he answered the countess, bowing obsequiously to her, as he said :

“I am sorry to be obliged to inform you, that we have taken you and your servants prisoners, for reasons of our own, which we do not care to explain to you. We have given your children to a party of roving Gpysies, because we could not use them in our plans at present; but, I can assure you, the children will be cared for. They will not be injured, unless you attempt to rescue them, in which case the Gypsies would kill them.

By this time the children are so well disguised that you would not know them. I would advise you to quietly give them up and make up your mind to a permanent separation ; for, in all probability, you will never see them again whether you seek them or not. This is all the information I can give you.”

“Merciful Heavens!” exclaimed the countess, “how can you be so cruel? If you will only restore my children to me I will see that you are handsomely rewarded, and will bless you all the rest of my life !”