Adventure Magazine Cover — page 186: what you’re looking at

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

180 “Here’sh jolly good lul-luck t’girl who lovesh a shail’r—”’ He broke off suddenly. “Ever hear zhat shong, Mary, eh? Goo’ lil shong, eh?” She laughed shrilly. “You bait I hear zat song! Ver’ often!” Mr. Westcott waved his hand to the man watching them. “Ev’nin’, amtgo! Buenos noches, senor! Comment allez-vous? Bon, eh? Zha’s wrong language, ain’ it? French, not Spanish!” The man muttered something and saun- tered back to where the other man was waiting. Mr. Westcott and the woman con- tinued on their way down the hill, still singing and chattering. They reached a bend in the road and the gateway was hidden from view. “Good!” said the woman. ‘‘Good! You played up fine. I’d never have got past them by myself.” He could feel that she was shivering though the night was still hot. “‘They’d have got me!” “Well,” he said, ‘‘that’s over, anyway.” She looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. “It’s not over,” she said. properly begun.” Presently she said: ‘‘You’ve done me a kindness T’ll never forget. My husband will never forget, either.” Then she halted and withdrew her arm from his and held out her hand. “Listen, it wouldn’t be fair on you for me to ask you to come any farther! You’ve done enough.” “Lady, it wouldn’t be fair on you if I dropped out now. I promised to help. I will help. I don’t have to be aboard my ship till morning. That’s to say, nobody’ll ever knowif ’m not. Ten to one the night watchman is probably fast asleep!” “You’re a sailor, are your” ‘Third engineer of the Lockborough Inlet. If there’s any other way I can help you, beside seeing you to your husband, you must let me know.” She moved on again with a little nod of her head. “Thank you. I’ve had rather a bad time. And it’s some distance to go yet. And I’m frightened. A little—not much, of course— my capacity for fear isn’t—isn’t as great as it was once!” For some time they walked in silence. Then when they came to the head of a wide “Tt’s not W. Townend flight of stone steps on the right of the road she touched his arm and said: “We turn down here. It’s quicker.” They descended between small villas, perched high up on the steep hill slopes, one overlooking the other. Few people were about; few lights were visible in the houses. Occasionally they would pass a small wine shop from which came the sound of voices, singing perhaps, and laughing. Or music. Once they saw at a corner three dark-skinned men dis- puting with another who stood with his back to the wall. The three men were angry; the man with his back to the wall shrugged his shoulders and laughed. One of the men hit him on the face; he spat and drew a sheath knife. “Don’t stop!’ said the woman. I beg of you!” “Y’d no intention,” said Mr. Westcott. “I’m a peaceful kind of man by nature, lady.” Later he said— “You know your way.” “Unfortunately, yes.” He pondered on what she had meant. Why, unfortunately? She sighed. “Tired: “Horribly! So tired I can hardly keep moving. ButI’vegot to. WhenI think of my poor husband I feel—I feel faint almost. He’s been by himself for twenty-four hours. He won’t know whether I’m dead or alive!” She shrugged her shoulders very much after the style of the man who had stood with his back to the wall, knife in hand. “We can’t walk too quickly, either—it’d look suspicious, though there’s not much danger now. At least, I don’t think so.” They made their way more slowly, through a region of mean streets, lanes and alleys and tenements And then it seemed to Mr. Westcott that he could hear steady footsteps pursuing them. Twice he glanced back over his shoulder. “What is it?” said the woman. “Nothing!’’ ‘What do you hear?” He halted and listened. No sound came to him in the silence but the croaking of frogs and the beat of the surf on the shore. “Nothing,” he said. They moved on once more across the flat country, vegetable and market gardens, “Don’t COmiclbooks.c©