All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

LOVE GOES BLINDLY. As she neared her goal a_ horse neighed and a cloaked figure stepped forth to meet her. It was he! The boyar was booted and wore a little round Astrakhan cap that fitted close to his hefd and became him well. His clothes were of bright blue broad- cloth and the fine linen frill of his shirt-bosom fluttered in the morning breeze. The girl noticed that he carried a little riding-crop in his hand, but failed to see the angry scowl that vanished as she put out her hands to him. “You are foolishly late,” said he abruptly, making an effort to soften the harshness that crept into his voice. ‘Come, we must hurry. They may awaken and miss you at any moment now.” Vera leaned, panting, against his shoulder. She was palpitant from the strain of her long run. “Wait!” she gasped. tired!” Nikolai Iaroslaf grasped her arm and urged her lagging feet toward where his equipage was to be seen through the trees. *T cannot afford to wait,” he insist- ed. ‘Do you-want them to come out and catch us? We must hurry, [ tell you!” “One minute—I’'m afraid,” pleaded the girl, trying to twist loose from the hard pressure of his fingers. “ You— you frighten me when you say things to me in that tone, Nikolai.” The nobleman gritted his teeth to withhold the oath that sprang to his lips. He glanced back over his shoul- der in the direction of the house. “Don’t be foolish,’ he snarled. “This is no time for silliness of that kind. You have gone too far to re- treat now, my girl.” Not the words, but their intonation struck Vera as ominous. Her heart quailed, and the vague hesitation of the last hour formulated into definite fear. She wrenched her arm violently free of him. Her doubts showed plain- ly in her eyes. *“T—I am so 839 ‘JT distrust you when you speak like that,” she said. ‘I do not believe that you mean honestly by me. I am mind- -ed not to go.” “Are you stark mad?” ejaculated the nobleman, beating his clenched: hands together. ‘ You must go with me! That bumpkin, your betrothed, would not take you back now. “ Anyway, why are you afraid of me? Have I not said that I love you? Told about all of the luxuries with which I shall surround you when we get away from this abominable place? Were your protestations of reciprocal passion mere words that died stillborn as soon as uttered here last night? Am I nothing to you, Vera?” The pupils of the girl’s eyes widened perceptibly. Her nostrils fluttered. She began to breathe fast again. ‘“ Yes—you are much to me—you are everything, Nikolai Iaroslaf, but you were so harsh just then. I love you, though dreading I know not what. What proof have I that this feeling of yours for me is not more than a pass- ing fancy?” For an instant the man_ hesitated, staring at her. Then suddenly he thrust one hand into the bosom of his coat and drew forth a dull gold neck- lace to which was attached an old- fashioned locket. He pressed it into her unwilling hands. “Open the locket,” said he. “ See! that is a miniature of my mother, the countess. Feodor Vlaseiovitch, mas- ter portraitcur to his imperial highness, painted it.” Then, before the girl could protést or deter him, the nobleman slipped the chain over her head and shoved the locket down into the bosom of her dress. ‘Wear the most precious thing I possess,” cried he. “ That locket was my mother’s deathbed gift to me. It is yours in proof that I love you truly. Now are you convinced, shy heart? ” The girl wavered before the hot ap- peal in his eyes, and then gave herself impulsively into his arms. comicloooks.com /