Adventure Magazine Cover, March 20, 1925 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

IO horse was coming up swiftly through the mist, and he had no wish to be stripped and perhaps knocked on the head by thieves. Seeing that the newcomer was a Spanish gentleman, mounted on a fine Arab, he was about to take up his reins again, when the stranger spurred his beast so close that Thorne’s horse tossed its head and edged back, while the other shied. “Now out upon thee for a mannerless lout!” D’Alaber exclaimed. ‘To block the road against thy betters!’’ Thorne glanced at him swiftly, seeing under a plumed velvet hat a face small and white with intent eyes. “Nay, Sir Stranger,” he laughed, “the shoe is upon the other foot. For a man who can not manage such a mettled beast as that of yours is mannerless, indeed.” The other smiled indifferently. “A pox on thy clownish merriment. Here’s to requite thee for thy wit, my wit- less jester!”’ So saying he drew the long rapier at his hip and, bending forward suddenly, ran the blade through the falcon that, blinded by its hood, perched on the young squire’s wrist. The hawk screamed and fell the length of its chain, its wings threshing. Thorne stared down at his stricken pet, and the blood drained from his face. “Tf you were Renard himself,” he cried, “vou should suffer for this.” Whipping out his rapier, he shortened his rein and kneed his horse toward the other, who awaited his coming with the same indifferent smile. This smile stirred Thorne to recklessness; sheer anger made the tears come into his eyes and he attacked incautiously. A thrust of the long rapier through the cloak on his left arm brought him to his senses in time to parry the point that might other- wise have passed into his side. aati D’ALABER was a man of moods. | His retainers at the highway gate - could have disposed of the trouble- some armiger without risk to himself, but he wished it otherwise. He might have shot Thorne with one of the pistols at his belt, yet he chose to rouse the boy and then to spit him with a certain trick of the sword that he fancied. The mist hid them from observers, and he could not dally because other riders might come up. Adventure So he engaged Thorne’s blade, parried a lunge at his throat and whirled his point. But when his arm went out, the armiger had caught his blade and turned it aside. “A pretty conceit,” muttered the squire, “‘clumsily executed.” He warded a second ripost, and reined his horse nearer. ‘“‘You should—blindfold me, as well as the hawk.”’ Now D’Alber prided himself on _ his swordsmanship which was more than good and the gibe rankled. It was Thorne’s trick to talk when steel was out or lead was flying and the Spaniard’s pride was touched. He had the better horse and determined to- end matters at once. He saw his chance when Thorne’s beast shied. The dying hawk had fluttered into the road and startled the horses, but D’Alaber’s was under control at once. He plunged in his spurs and leaned forward. The two rapiers flashed and sang together, and the Arab swerved away. D’Alaber dropped his weapon and clutched the mane of his horse. ‘““Por Dios!” he cried faintly. Thorne dismounted swiftly and came to his side, helping him to the ground, where the Spaniard lay moaning, one fist pressed under his heart. His breath came Jerkily and his eyes stared up into Thorne’s. By an effort of will he opened his lips. | “Tell Master Durforth,”’ he whispered, “on the road a league toward Harwich— tell him D’Alaber is down. The Fox must know. Will you do this?” Thorne was silent a moment. “Aye, that I will.” The Spaniard continued to stare at him, and even after the dark eyes held no life in them they seemed to smolder with vin- dictive rage. Thorne drew the body to one side of the road and tied the Arab’s reins to a branch. This done he mounted again and rode on with furrowed forehead. “It likes me not,”’ he mused. ‘The don was a fellow of Renard’s and ’tis ill meddling with such. He set upon me with full in- tent, and there were none to see it. If I am charged with his taking off——”’ He was riding on the king’s business and did not mean to be delayed. But a pledge to a dying man must be kept, and he wanted a glance at this Master Durforth. “My lord of Stratford did say that the Spaniards wished us evil, and here is one full of it already, and requited therefor, poor GOMIGIoOO (©