The Argosy, March 27, 1920 — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

se 1 210 ‘THE ARGOSY. Thomas had risen and with dignity pro- ceeded toward the door. “Stay!” Sansito’s cry was an impera- tive order. * What I want,” Arthur announced sim- ply, “ concerns myself intimately, so may I be permitted to make my request to you in private?” “T have no secrets from my old friend, Sir Thomas Merton,” Sansito said ingeni- ously. Arthur wasted no more words, but asked abruptly: ‘‘ You are a Spaniard?” “Yes. And may one ask how you, an Englishman, come to speak, so easily, my mother tongue?” “T learned at sea. I sailed for years on Spanish and Portuguese ships.” “But you are an Englishman?” Yes? “ How comes it that you, after so many years at sea, are still but a seaman?” “T came upon this trip at the last mo- ment; glad of any chance to work my way across to Spain.” Arthur was unaware that the interview was turning into a close examination of himself. “And what are you to do. in Spain?” Sansito inquired. “Tt is of that I wish to speak. I am— could you tell me anything concerning one —Seseca?” Arthur came close to his man and looked into his eyes. The Spaniard did not flinch, but he at- tempted to bury his bandaged hand still more deeply beneath his cloak. “““ Seseca,’”’ the count repeated, “ ‘ Sese- ca,’ Is that Spanish? It sounds—” He broke off, and, turning upon Sir Thomas, inquired: “ Did you ever hear the name Seseca? Perhaps you know Seseca?”’ The old diplomat was caught. “No,” he lied. “I do not.” The Spaniard indolently inquired of Arthur: “What do you want with this Seseca?”’ “T must find him!” the young sailor cried vehemently. ““ What for?” ‘““T_but, since you cannot aid me, you will pardon me for withholding my con- fidences.” / Arthur bowed low, and, in the following silence, hastened to depart. As the door closed, Sansito whispered admiringly: ‘‘Such a manner! His old grandfather could not have bettered it! He must be put out of the way—he might—”’ Sir Thomas started forward. “Tf you harm him—” he began. Sansito smiled hypocritically. ‘“ You have m3 promise!” And so Sir Thomas was obliged to let the matter rest. But he thought a great deal about it during the following days. The weather was overcast and penetrat- ingly cold, but the wind was favorable and the ship made good headway. The old nobleman remained most of the time in the cabin close beside Mistress Judith, who was still too ill to rise, He feared that she was suffering more from the absence of Arthur than from the rough- ness of the sea. He had not told her that her lover was aboard. Indeed, Tanner, acting under his instructions, had answered her questions with the information that Arthur was not on the ship! Sir Thomas, who had feared this love- match when he believed Arthur too lowly, now feared it infinitely more because the youth was so far above them. He wished there was something he could do for the young sailor; but, as yet he saw no safe course. He must get to the king with all speed on his own account and, as far as possible, keep Judith out of every- thing. This was as much as he could plan. The tenth day out was decidedly squally, and the little ship was buffeted by wind and waves, but the next morning all was calm. Judith seemed better, and declared that on the following day she intended to go on deck. But that night a terrible storm came upon them, Judith awoke suddenly, and called to her father. Sir Thomas lit a candle and almost at once was beside her. The boat was tossing blindly, and Judith, on her shifting pallet, trembled to hear the confusion of the storm and the constant running to and fro on the deck below. a Comicbookxs.cCom .