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PRINCE -Ek
TIMOTEO
Coi'yriQht . ISOS , try the International Literary and Netcs Service
CHAPTER I.
MY name is Timothy Law
reix|e, I am'in the eafly thir
ties! and I was six months'
youpger than I am now
when I passed 1 through the experience
which lam about to relate. I was ed
ucated for the practice of medicine,
but I never practiced. I was rich and
didn't have to.
Every one has his own. peculiar am
bition, or. what is the same thing, his
hobby, for what is any ambition but a
more or less exalted hobbyhorse? The
one ambition ©f my life has been the
climbing of thountains, and I have
made many flue ascents.
Last May I was at the village of
Tr.. ohiiO, a place about fifteen miles
to the north of the city of Florence, in
Italy. I was stopping at the Inn of one
Gugllelmo Zucchi. at 1 there were pres
ent that night at table, besides myself,
Count Tagiiupictra and several other
titled gentlemen, whose landed estates,
some of tbeui of an ai'ea. of at least
five acres, lay! in tbp immediate vicini
ty. The talk happening tu run upon the
subject of mountain climbing. I narrat
ed to them shine of my exploits and
ended by giving them my experience
upon the top jof the Mesa Eucanlada.
near the In '2:i village ©f Actinia..'ln
New ,Mexico.. This enchanted table
land Is a lii-t’k of sanil*tcute, a mile
long and <UHi Jfcet high, rising perjien
dicular front*the arid New Mexican
plain and I..oiling for all the world like
a section of a!huge cheese set upon its
edge.
"M.y dour Lorenzo." exclaimed the
count. *'tlie rock or mountain which
you speak of is certainly un interesting
matter, but it is not so wonderful as
something ofjtbe game kind which we
havein this very neighborhood. Some
twenty or tpenty-tf vg jiffies t r >| tV
northwest oil tins place. ikmcaq tite
Apennines, ttjere rises an isolated block
of mountain! of tbe identical shape
•which you mention, it is. however,
much larger find more mysterious, be
ing fully tivn miles in length, two or
three in thickness and 1.200 or 1.800
feet In height. This enchanted mesa
of ours, which is called II Mondmento
on account of its resemblance to a huge
sarcophagus, stands not upon the plain,
but in the midst of one of the pellucid
lakes of the Apennines. Its top seems
fairly level, is fringed with forest and
should contain several thousands of
lucres, but whether inhabited or not no
man will ever know, as it is absolutely
impossible to reach its summit.”
Thought 1 to myself, “Tlife noble
count is trying to go me one better.”
And. coming to this conclusion, I of
fered to bet him C.OjXiline that within
one week I would climb'to the top of
his mysterious mountain. He imme
diately accepted my bet, and I saw
that he was positive of having what
is called a “sure thing.”
My arrangements were soon made.
It was only necessary to have certain
articles which were necessary to my
undertaking, and this was easily done
in Florence.
Early upon the morning of Thursday
I set out on foot from Pratolino with
my guide. For several miles the roads
were good, but after passing over the
Seflario we took a nigged path, which
led us to the west and north of Vaglia
and up into the very heart of the Apen
nines. When we reached the shores of
the lake, wlijch we did at about 5
o’clock in the afternoon, it seemed as
if we had passed entirely beyond the
limits of human habitation and come
into a region totally unexplored and
desolate.
The lake was a very pretty body of
water, and, though eight or nine miles
in length, it seemed a small pool as it
lay there deep down among the gigan
tic backs of the mountains. A half
mile, or, it may be, a mile, from tbe
shore rose froft tbe glasslike surface
of tbe water the mysterious and cube
like block of stone, the island of rock
which I had come to scale. I calculat
ed that it must be five or six miles in
length, though the surroundings made
it seem much less. It had a dark red
dish look, as of sandstone, and it went
up straight and sheer from the water
to a height of 1,200 feet and more.
Along its whole crest was a black line
of forest, and the whole shape of it and
the deathlike stillness of the great am
phitheater about me made peem most
apt the name II Monumento which had
been given to it
We camped upon the shore that night,
and on Friday morning at 8 o’clock,
my guide procuring me a small boat
from some secret hiding place, I left
him upon tbe shore and paddled my
self across the water toward this Mesa
Eneantada. The nearer I approached
the more precipitous and unscalable
appeared its sides. Yet I would pot at
that moment have accepted 1,000 lire
and called it quits with the count As
1 neared the island I found, to my sat
isfaction, that at one point its side was
-not so steep as I had supposed and
that the rock sloped upward from the
water at an angle of about 45 degrees
to a height of something like 500 feet.
Here was the place for me to land. I
fastened my boat securely to the rocks
and at once began to climb and in
about half an hour found myself at
the top of this incline at a perilous
theight above the surface of the water.
(I had brought with me, of course, the
paraphernalia bad been made
for me by the blacksmith of Floreuce,
but I scorned as yet to> put the things
to use, as I had by no means exhaust
ed the resources of my own strength
and agility. There was a fissure here
and there, a slight jutting ledge now
and then, in the sandstone above me,
and I went to work and pulled myself
up from one pqint to another with
great care and prodigious exertion, the
result beigg that in an hour or so I had
risen 200 feet farther and was at an el
evation of 700 feet above the lake.
It was now high lime that I should
put into play the apparatus fashioned
for me by the Florentine artisan. I
took from a leather pouch, which was
slung at my side, a hammer and a five
eight hs ibjbb octagon rock drill of
about ten inches in length, and, reach
ing up about six feet from the ledge
where I stood, I drilled a hole some
three inches deep and with a down
ward slant of perhaps 30 degrees into
the rock. I then took from, the same
receptacle a stout steel book, having
a round shank five-eighths of an inch
iu diameter and three inches long, to
which hook were attached two straps,
one two and the other three feet in
length, each having at its end a good
sized steel stirrup. Placing the shank
of the hook into the hole which I had
made, with both hands 1 hung my
weight upon it, and, putting my left
foot into the long stirrup, I drew my
self up and put my right foot into the
short stirrup. The hook was now on a
level with my waist To my belt w r as
fastened a large harness snap. I im
mediately snapped thismpon ihe hook,
and my arms and hands were now free
to recommence operations with anoth
er set of hook and stirrups, which I
still had in my bag. The shape and
jngllnation of[ the book itself as well gs :
•the jiva.t niy weight bung upon it- pre- <
vented it from having a disposition to
work out of its socket, while the down
ward bend of it next to the shank kept
it from turning around. With this
same contrivance I had ascended the
Mesa Encantada of New Mexico. The
porous red sandstone with which I
now had to do was much easier to
work than the granite of the mesa,
and I had no doubt of the success of
my enterprise. I had 500 feet to climb,
each operation using up about five
minutes and advancing me about four
feet. It would therefore take me ten
hours to get to the top of the rock.
Avery agreeable surprise awaited
me. however. I had been hard at work
for about a quarter of an hour and whs
busily engaged in picking away at my
fourth hoik when, suddenly and with
out warning, I felt soipe objeqt
me on the back of the bead. I natural
ly desisted from my work and looked
about me and was not a little surprised
to find an inch rope of good Italian
hemp, with a noose at the end of it.
dangling just before my nose, which
rope hung down from the top of the
cliff, rising 500 feet above my head.
I saw that the poQse was being low
ered slowly past me. and I caught hold
of it and gave it a good stout pull. At
once it came to a standstill, and pres
ently I felt an answering tug from
above. The noose was now about on
a level with my knees. I placed one
foot within it and bore with most of
my weight upon the rope. In a mo
ment I was conscious of being lifted.
I detached my apparatus from the
rocks and gave myself up, with all the
confidence in the world tct the delight
ful assistance which had so opportune-
ly come to me.
In five minutes I had gone up fully
300 feet and was consequently a thou
sand feet above the surface of the lake.
I was not bothered with any apprehen
sion that my friends above might let
me drop, for the reason that I never
allow my thoughts to dweil upon any
thing disagreeable. I was about to win
jny bet with the count I had made
the interesting discovery that the top
of the mesa was inhibited, and as I
was upon the point of crowning and
surpassing all my previous achieve
ments In the way of climbing I was
supremely triumphant and happy.
When I had still about 150 feet to go,
1 passed a eavelike hole in the face
of the rock, a hole about two and a
half feet in diameter and running in
ward to such a depth that I could not
see the end of it. It seemed of small
importance to me at the time, but aft
erward I bad good reason to remember
it.
Very soon I could hear a creaking as
of a windlass upon which the cable
Was being wound, and I could now see
that the latter ran upon a pulley,
which was mortised into the end of a
stout timber projecting some three feet
over the edge of the cliff. When I was
within fifteen feet of the top, the wind
lass suddenly stopped working, and I
remained stationary. The face of an
old man, a broad and Jovial face, with
watery gray eyes, a Roman nose and a
white, stubby beard, looked down on
me over the parapet, and 1 heard my
self thus accosted:
“Marry, fair sir, but are thon Tim
othy?”
The question was put with a reason
ably good Tuscan idiom and accent,
which gave me some satisfaction, for
the reason that I knew myself thor
oughly at home in that language. I
was not surprised at the mention of
iuy name. It was merely a' coinci
dence, than which I had known of
many much more wonderful.
•“Certainly I am,” said I.
The old fellow went back to the
windlass, and I (descended six or seven
feet farther and then again crime io a
stop.; lie looked oven - the precipice
again and once more addressed me:
“Now. perdio, sayst thou sooth4-art
thou really the prince?”
Some people would have been Idiotic
enough to answer no. I was not of
their number. I was still walking
iqion air, and I felt that policy was
better than honesty as long as I jvus
dangling above 1.200 feet of ether.;
“Old gentleman,” said I, “I am'the
prince gnd none pttyer. Isut hasten
nvith VF hoisting, ap' my jiositioji is
Ibecotniqg somewhat fatiguing.”
He seemed satisfied with my rdply.
Once more the windlass began to t>irn,
and in a moment more I had gained
the top of the mesa.
I now found that I stood upon a stone
wall *pme four feet in height, which
stretched along the edge of the preci
pice as far as I could seel I leaped
down upon the ground within this wall
and stood beside the old man. He
gazed at me with a look of surprise)and
wonddr, and I did the like by him.
The knickerbockers of my climbing
suit seemed to have much novelty for
him, and I in my turn was struck |vith
“A rt thou realty the princev\
the quaint and ancient cut of his habil
iments. which resembled the garb of an
Italian menial of the .fifteenth century.
He was a man of fifty years, his shoul
ders were bent with toil, and he bad
the air of a trusted servant. He re
garded me with an eager and deferen
tial air.
“And who are you?” I asked.
“Go to, Timoteo!” he exclaimed.
“Dost thou not know Gian Jacopo, the
lifelong servant of thy honored house,
the friend who watched over thy child
hood and was the companion of thy
adolescence? A murrain on thee for
thy ingratitude!”
“Ha! Now indeed I know thee, faith
ful Jacopo,” answered I, “but methinks
thou art much changed since I saw
thlee last.”
“Santiddio! Well indeed I may be,
most excellent young master, for it is
twenty years this day since thy revered
father and I let thee down, a callow
stripling of sixteen, "with this same
rope into the lower world of thieves
and heretics. Why we did so thou well
knowest. Thou wert the sole surviving
hope of thy race. The enemies of thy
house had sworn to murder thee that
thou mightst never succeed to the posi
tion which is thy right. Each year,
upon this same day and hour, accord
ing arrangement, we have let
down the rope. Wherefore hast thou
delayed thy coming so long?”
The matter was beginning to interest
me inordinately, and I determined to
keep up the mystification a little while
longer that I might learn more.
“It is a long story,” said I. “Let it
suffice that this is the first opportunity
pf coming up which I have had. But
how has the world used thee, trusty
Jacopo?”
“Hardly, ecceleutissima, most hard
ly. We have pretended for ail these
years, according to the plan which thou
wottest of, that thou wert an invalid
confined to thy chamber, and in this
manner have kept the knowledge of
thy flight from the authorities. The
care and worry about the matter, to
gether with the heartsickness of hope
deferred and latterly the grievous sick
ness of the august signor, thy father,
have been sore afflictions.”
“Ha!” I exclaimed. “My honored
sire is ill! Tell me at once the nature
of his malady.”
“It could not be much worse, and
greatly I fear me that it will be his
last. Old age and a broken spirit are
his chief ailments. Let us hasten to
him lest he happen to depart this world
before seeing thee. I have here a tri
fling task to perform and I will be with
thee.”
CHAPTER 11.
WHILE we were talking Gian
Jacopo had been hauling
the rope from the windlass
and paying it out over the
cliff. When it was about a third out.
it began to run very quickly of itself
until the whole 1.2 u feet had gone
down ami the windlass stepped with a
jerk. I did not think to remark about
the matter while lie was busy at it. tint
now. when i saw him pull a long knif't
from his girdle and draw it twice n
thrice swiftly ; :• >-s the -cpe. ' real
ized his intent; m and sp;.. g U .vurd
him that I might thwart it. But I was
too hue. Even as 1 seized him he gave
one more vicious cut. The rope parted,
and l saw the end of it whiz over the
parapet.
“Villain!” I shouted. “What have
you done? How is it possible for me
now to descend?”
“Descend?” he queried, with much
stupefaction. "Hast thou forgotten
that the penalty prescribed by our
laws for leaving the cotmtry is death
and that the same penalty awaits the
stranger who intrudes himself upon
us? During the last 400 years I know
of no one besides thyself who has
made the descent alive, and well I wot
that thou art the only one who ever
came up. Have I not, then, done well
thus to destroy the evidences of thy
crime?”
My amazement was great ns I lis
tened to the old man. Here was a
pretty situation. I could see no imme
diate way of getting down without
killing myself, and I would he killed
by these hospitable people if I stayed
where I was. It was a fine nest that
I had climbed into. But my resolution
was immediately formed. I had been
taken by this old driveler for Prince
Timoteo. and. come what might. Prince
Timoteo I must remain.
“But these enemies of my house!” 1
objected. “P trad venture they have
still, the same kind intentions toward
mo which they had formerly. By my
halidom, 1 fear them not. But would
it r *: have been well to keep this
mea..., e ' "ape as a last resort?”
“Nay. 1 .hs. s i. The present ruler of
Firenzalino, the Duke Castrucelo degli
Albizzi. is an and at dotard, who is
tottering to his fail, IJe ha*3iost the
martial instincts of his ancestors, his
time is spent in.tournaments, in danc
ing festivals and drinking bouts. Per
dio, put thyself at the head of thy true
adherents and win back the princely
throne which was wrested fSsrn thy
race three .generations back by the
Albizzi. All that thou hast to fear
when thy presence becomes known is
a chance stab or' two in the back from
thy opponents; for the which I rec
ommend that thou shouldst straight
way invest thyself in a suit of mail
or plate, either of which in good as
sortment thou wilt find in the ward
robe of thy noble father. And that re
mindeth me that we must hasten to
his bedside, for, as I have informed
thee, he is veritably in extremis. God
forgive me for babbling at such a
time.”
Of necessity I followed the old man,
though, as may he supposed, I had lit
tle wish >et the illustrious sire of
the runaway Timothy. The place where
I found myself was a garden or pleas
ure ground of about an acre in extent
and inclosed on all sides by high stone
walls. A small house, surrounded by.
a veranda and built of whitewashed
brick, stood at one end of the close,
and the grounds were laid out in green
sward, gravel walks and flower beds
and were shaded with olive, lemon and
orange trees. A fountain played re
freshingly in the midst, from which
I argued that this island or country
of Little Florence, or, as Jacopo called
it, Firenzalino, was not flat and even,
as I had before supposed, but that it
abounded in hills and valleys and run
ning streams. Without these there
would have been no fountains.
Following my guide, I now came to
the house and, passing through a cor
ridor, entered With fear and trembling
the chamber of the princely patriarch.
Upon a bed lay the emaciated yet noble
figure of a man of seventy years. His
long and snow white beard flowed down
upon the coverlet, his aristocratic and
hawklike features were waxen pale,
and his eyes were closed. Gian Jacopo
hastened to his side and seized his
wrist and bowed down and listened for
his breathing. Then suddenly crying
out, “Holy Virgin, he is dead!” he drop
ped upon his knees and buried his face
in his hands. Then presently he arose
and, turning to me sadly, said:
“We are too late! We are too late!
Look upon him, Timoteo; look upon the
last of thy father, the noble Arnolfo
de' Pazzi. Eccelentissma,” he contin
ued, “we must eftsoons seek out and
inform Father Sylvester, the old and
worthy priest who for many years has
been the confessor of thy good sire,
that he may arrange for tonight’s
watch over the corpse. Fortunately
his grace was shriven and absolved by
him yesterday, so that his passage
hence must have been straight and
easy. After I have found Father Syl
vester I will put into thy possession
the prince’s strong box, that thou may
est examine its contents and reckon
thy inheritance.”
“Where is the strong box of which
thou speakest?” I asked.
“Marry, it is here, my master, upon
the floor, under the prince’s bed, con
cealed by yon valance of embossed
leather, and the key will doubtless be
found under his pjllow.”
The old servant dragged the box from
its hiding place and lifted It with some
difficulty upon a heavy oaken table iu
the center of the apartment. While he
was feeling under the pillows for the
key I was examining the box itself.
It was not much over a foot in length
and something less than a foot in
width, being wrought out of iron, and
at the same time was of great strength
and worked so curiously and beautiful
ly as to be a fortune in itself. Never
had I supposed it possible to file and
hammer tout of iron such leaves and
flower Sand tiny human figures as ap
peared in high relief upon all its sides
and upon tbe lid.
“Jacopo,” I demanded, “floes the
workman live who fashioned this
box?”
“No, perdio, illustrious signor, nor
has he lived these 400 years. The
trinket was made for one of thy an
cestors by a young artisan of ancient
Florence. Thou canst read the maker’s
name within the medallion upon the
lid.”
I looked, and my surprise and won
CASTORIA
The'Kind You Have Always Bought, and which has been
in use tor over 30 years, has borne the signature of—
and has been made under his per
{ , sonal supervision since its infancy.
Allow no one to deceive you in this.
Ali Counterfeits, Imitations and “ Just-as-good” are but
Experiments that trifle with and endanger the health of
Infants and Children—Experience against Experiment.
What is CASTORIA
Castoria is a harmless substitute for Castor Oil, Pare
goric, Drops and Soothing Syrups. It is Pleasant. It
contains neither Opium, Morphine nor other Narcotic
substance. Its age is its guarantee. It destroys Worms
and allays Feverishness. It cures Diarrhoea and Wind
Colic. It relieves Teething Troubles, cures Constipation
and Flatulency. It assimilates the Food, regulates the
Stomach aud Bowels, giving healthy and natural sleep.
The Children’s Pauacear-The Mother’s Friend.
*„mfit * • 1 4
GENUINE CASTORIA ALWAYS
The Kind You Have Always Bought
In Use For Over 30 Years.
THE CENTAUR COMPANY, TT MURRAY STREET. NEW VORK CITY.
der wene greit when I beheld tea name
and 1 date, iieofeardo qa Vinci, 1477.
“Talk of your vellini Vases and your
Falissy pottery,” thought I. “Here is a
treasure which surpasses all of them
together.”
Jacopo had now found the key, and
we opened the casket without diffi
culty. *lt contained a large number of
precious stones of one kind and an
other and a very goodly quantity of
golden florins. Most of tbe latter bore
the face of Cosmo de’ Medici and dates
ranging from 1440 to 1400. They were
all rather light in weight, which bore
out the theory I had always had of old
Cosmo and his system of banking. I
determined to touch none of this money
for my own use, but I gave over to
Gian Jacopo a handful, with orders to
lay it out in wliat'might be rieces’sarj'
to give to the old gentleman a sendoff
proportionate to his rank.
The trusty old domestic; having de
parted upon hfs errand and left me
with the remains of my distinguished
forbear. I set myself to musing upon
the almost miraculous experiences
which I had that day encountered.
The explanation of the puzzle was
nearer at hand than I imagined. Upon
a marble writing, leggio which stood
near the head of the bed lay a very
voluminous manuscript engrossed in a
small but distinct handwriting. Pos
sessing myself of it, I found that it
was entitled “The Ciyonicles of Firen
zalino, Frpm the Year 1492 Until the
Present Time, Set Down and Com
mented Upon Briefly by Signor Arnol
fo de’ Pazzi.” If I was anxious for
anything, it was to know something
about the strange land into which I
had so strangely been introduced, and
in this manuscript I beheld the author
ity which best would enlighten me. I
therefore sat down and perused it with
avidity and ip an hour or thereabout
had mastered its contents. I do not
say that I read more than a tenth part
of the whole matter which it contained.
To do so would have been impossible
in so short a time, but by reading the
heads of chapters and glancing hur
riedly over the less important details I
managed to make myself reasonably
conversant with the history' and ap
pearance of the country and with the
customs, peculiarities aud occupations
of its people.
Upon the arrival of Father Sylvester
I withdrew with Gian Jacopo into the
garden, taking the casket with me, and
there, under the shade of a gigantic
olive tree, I put to the trusty hench
man such questions as might enlighten
me further upon the subject of this
mysterious mountain and this ancient
and valiant race of men, taking care
at the same time to clothe my inquiries
in such garb as to awaken no suspicion
in his mind that I was not the real
simon pure Timoteo.
I will here set down as plainly and
as briefly as possible the results of my
examination of the chronicles and of
my conference with Gian Jacopo, the
same being the story of Firenzalino
and its people, or as much of it as it is
necessary for you to know.
From the middle of the thirteenth to
the end of the fifteenth century many
people were exiled from the great
and glorious city of Florence—some for
crimes and the most of them for dif
ferent political reasons. Among these
were the great family of Pazzi, exiled
for complicity in the murder of Giuli
ano de’ Medici, and another great fam
ily, the Albizzi, exiled by their enemy
Cosmo when he got the upper hand of
them.
W ell. in time, perhaps along toward
the middle of the fifteenth century, a
great number of \hese exiles and' de
scendants of exiles, after wandering
about Italy for many years and trying
without avail to get back into their
beloved city, took up their abode upon
-a barfen islanjd in the mjdst of a kike,
| wjilcq lay some thirty or forty miles to
tlie north of Florence in’the very heartf
of the Apennines. Upon this wild and
desolate spot, which nevertheless was
almost within sight of their native
We opened the casket.
land, they fortified themselves, and
they sent for their possessions, culti
vated the island and worked at their
several handicrafts. Eventually they
prospered and increased in numbers;
and made something of a place of it
And it was in the summer of the
memorable year of 1492, the year of
the discovery of America by Columbus,
of the death of Lorenzo de’ Medici, of
the fall of Grenada and of the expul
sion of the Jews from Spain, when
there came up one night a great storm,
followed by a dire earthquake, which
so shook the island that all tbe exiles
rocked back and forth in their beds as
though they had been in so many
boats on a rough sea. and when they
got up and went out in the morning
and took a look around, lo and behold,
their island had shot up with the earth
quake 1.200 or 1,300 feet out of the
lake, and they beheld themselves high
and dry upon the top of a mountain
whose sides were so precipitous aud
smooth that he who should attempt to
descend them would faee certain death.
They were, in fact, as completely sep
arated from the rest of the earth as
though they had been suddenly trans
planted to another planet. They had a
small world completely and incontesta
fTCt V.V COVTTMnCD.I
ONE^
MINUTE
One Minute Cure does not pass immedi
ately Into the stomach, but lingers in the throat, chesl
and lungs, producing the following results:
(1) Relieves the cough.
(2) Makes the breathing easy.
(3) Cuts out the phlegm.
(4) Draws out the inflammation.
(5) Kills the germs (microbes) of disease.
(6) Strengthens the mucous membranes.
(7) Clears the head.
(8) Relieves the feverish conditions.
(9) Removes every cause of the cough and t~*
itrain on the lungs.
(10) Enables the hings to contribute pure If®*
giving and life-sustaining oxygen to the blood. Cures
Croup and all Cough, Lung and Bronchial Affections.
GOUGH CURE
Prepared by E. O. DoWITT * 00.. CHICAGO-