All this time Mr. Clarkson was quietly seated in the breakfast-room, taking light repast after his long journey. That the persons he sought were in the hotel he felt confident; but there were so many gentlemen with their wives real or pretended, from all parts, that he was puzzled to conjecture which of the names in the register was that assumed by the Count. At length he resolved to take the boy into his confidence; and, handing him a gold piece, he began to question him concerning the guests now quartered in the hotel. When he had described the pair he wanted, the boy said: “W’y these ere must be the pair wat’s just gone to the Toronto boat!” Clarkson said not a word; but, handing a card to the cashier, rushed out of the hotel, and, jumping into a cab, bade the driver to go with all speed to the Upper Canada boat. Had he thought for a moment he would have recollected that the boat leaves the wharf early in the morning, and proceeding slowly through the canal, stops to take on passengers at the head of the Lachine Rapids. In his blind haste, however, he had forgotten this; and lost so much time in going to the wharf that, when he eventually learnt the truth and got to the depot, the train was just leaving the platform.
There was nothing for it now but to wait for the train for the west, and to get on board the steamer at Kingston. He had at least the satisfaction of knowing that they were on the boat like rats in a trap, and that, except the delay in confronting the villain Von Alba and his wretched companion, he was as successful as possible in his pursuit of the fugitives. Returning to the city, he procured the assistance of a detective, who undertook to accompany him to Kingston, and assist him in apprehending and arresting the fugitives.
By this time the steamship “Hungarian,” on which the wretched pair had embarked, was ploughing the waters of Lake St. Louis. After a time they passed through the Beauharnois and Cornwall canals, and entered the labyrinth of beautiful patches known as the “Thousands Islands.” As they emerged from this lovely spot the saloon became suddenly filled with smoke, and in a few minutes cries of “Fire! Fire!” were heard on every hand. A rush was made for life preservers, while the crew of five or six men vainly endeavored to extinguish the flames. The captain ordered boats to be lowered, but, the men being excited, and badly drilled at best, the boats were successively swamped, leaving the poor terrified creatures only a choice of two fearful deaths.
One of the sailors handed Mrs. Clarkson a life preserver, which she requested Von Alba to fasten round her waist, but the cowardly fellow snatched it from her, and, hastily securing it round his own waist, swung himself overboard, leaving her to perish in the flames! He was not to escape so easily, however; with a bitter yell of mingled rage and despair the wretched woman mounted the taffrail, and plunging straight for the spot where he rose to the surface dragged him under again and again with fearful maledictions. The passengers who still remained on deck could do nothing to separate them, and although the life preserver would have sustained both of them easily in the water, so great was the woman’s bate on the discovery of Von Alba’s cowardly treachery, that she did not even give a thought to her own escape, so intent was she on dragging him to the bottom. The expression of her face, lit up as it was by the blaze of the burning; steamer, was terrible to behold: the veins in her head and neck were swollen almost to bursting, and she died cursing with bitter malediction the man for whom she had sacrificed not only herself, but her husband and her children.
The steamer burned to the water’s edge, only a few of those who had jumped overboard escaping. The bodies of the guilty pair were discovered at some distance from the wreck, Mrs. Clarkson’s hand being tightly clutched round her companion’s throat, while his tongue and eyes protruded fearfully.
With sad and heavy heart Clarkson returned to Detroit, and, having gathered together what remained of his former property, prepared to return to Canada. He took with him the children of his late wife, placing them both as boarders at the College at Lennoiville till they were old enough to be apprenticed to some trade or profession. He never quite recovered from the shock received on hearing of the manner of Mrs. Clarkson’s death and that of her paramour, but became prematurely aged when he realized that, instead of the sweet angelic creature whom he thought he had married, he found that he had wedded a regular disciple of Satan.
CHAPTER VII. — The Frail Shop Girl.
The many fine ladies who patronize the fashionable emporiums of Montreal little think (as they sit comfortably at the counter, leisurely examining dozens of articles they never intend to purchase) of the sufferings undergone by those who minister to their wants, and, it may be, their caprices. Dozens of these poor creatures stand day after day, from morn till night, without a moment’s rest except at meal-times; even then the short period allowed them barely suffices to permit of a hasty meal, when they have to hurry back again to undergo another term of misery.