Adventure Magazine Cover — page 118: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

682 the Queen’s corpse to the sullen, glowering eyes of her guests. She knew only too well the fury in their hearts, the fierce hatred they bore the dead woman, and the pitiless scorn in which they held her worthless son. “‘One thing at a time,”’ replied Mademoi- selle de L’Isle in her wonderful voice, which vibrated now with passionate emotion. “Remove this vile woman who insulted me! Hurl her body into the courtyard! It shall not contaminate these walls!”’ She pointed to a distant window opening toa balcony. The men, advancing upon the King, were quick to obey her command. In a moment they crowded round Horatia, roughly rais- ing the body and bearing it away down the long room, followed by a throng of women who moved unsteadily. Crowding to the window, they pressed forward to see this further outrage to the dead Queen. “Your chance!’ whispered Caroline, edg- ing Gisdel to a small side door hung with heavy strings of beads. “Hide in the hall cupboard behind the coats—you know where I mean! Quick!—they are mad for blood!”’ Gisdel knew the door well; it was papered over and flush with the wall. He took one wild, terrified glance at the backs of his enemies, hearing Horatia fall with a thud upon the stone path below. Then, sick and half stunned, he flew for his life, creeping behind a long sable cloak of Caroline’s in the far corner of the dark recess. Shaking with fear he sank to the ground in a huddled heap, giving himself up for lost. He could hear his would-be assassins, now maddened by drink and the lust of blood, rushing from room to room to find the missing King. Caroline, unable to control this first out- break of revolution roused into action by her deed, gave ready permission for the house to be searched, sure in her heart they would not discover King Gisdel’s hiding- place. Afraid to thwart their wild desires, she joined in the man-hunt, pretending to lend her aid. ‘““He must be near!”’ she declared hotly. “The hall door is bolted, so he can not have really escaped. He slipped away when you were obeying my commands. He probably ran up-stairs. I was looking at the balcony —I should have guarded him better.”’ It was clear the intoxicated crew intended searching every nook and corner. They peered into recesses, opened cupboards, Adventure crept beneath sofas and behind curtains. As each effort proved unavailing they grew exasperated. Some ransacked the salon, shaking out the delicate draperies lest they conceal the shivering King. Others mount- ed to the rose-colored bedchambers, dress- closets and bathrooms. Even the box- room was fully investigated, and the large trunks opened. At last the disappointed seekers turned on Caroline in sudden sus- picion. “You are untrue to the cause!” cried the accusing voice of the operatic Hercules. “You have enabled your lover to escape! You intentionally withheld from us the honor of killing a traitor, who sought to ruin the country Maldio loved! Gisdel, like his mother, plotted for the crown. Alive or dead, Maldio was their victim!” Caroline shook her head. ‘Have I not with my own hand stabbed the Queen to the heart?” she answered reproachfully. “I—and I alone claim to be the savior of Lambasa! This night I have stamped out the cruelest life which ever darkened a so-called civilized nation. Yet you say, ‘Caroline is untrue!’ See,”— stretching out her stained fingers—‘‘I am red to the wrist in Horatia’s blood! I have dragged the name of Gisdel through the mire! You think I love him; take these— and these—and these!”’ She tore from neck, breast and arms the jewels the King had given her, hurling them dramatically at the feet of her accusers. A shade of shame passed over the face of the singer who had voiced the general opin- ion. ‘Pardon, great Caroline,” he pleaded. “But, since you are so mighty, can not your wit rise to discover where the King hides?”’ She pressed her fists to her brow, then, as if seized by a sudden thought, answered uickly: “The cellars, of course! I had forgotten the cellars. He has taken refuge there. Go search below, and I will keep watch at the head of the stairs and call instantly should I hear him move above.”’ The whole company appeared dominated by Caroline’s will. She insisted they should all descend to the vault-like cellars, where she knew they would grope about in semi- darkness, seeing the King in every shadow. As the last obeyed her wish and vanished underground, she turned with light step and flew to the secret door in the wall of the COMMICLOOCKKS. ECO