Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 19, 1924 — page 142: what you’re looking at

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

612 lash of every laudatory word the woman had spoken. Now he winced spiritually at this revelation of the world to which he be- longed. It was not a pretty thing to see. Sy ee And may the good God send to them fools that travel my way a man to _ Show what. manhood can be!” cried Grim- shaw’s quavering voice. ‘I only hope they recognize him when he comes! He came to me! It’s Corvan I’m speakin’ of. He came to me that day... .” And Corvan felt bitterly the futility of battle as Grimshaw told of a day when he had looked at the grinning face of death through a hell of raging water, and of a strong man who had staked his life to drag him back. ‘“ He gave up his life, but it wasn’t taken. He saved me, and God knows I wasn’t worth it!” Grimshaw sat down abruptly. The third Mrs. Humphrey took up the thread where the old man dropped it. She spoke in an even, gentle voice that contrast- ed sharply with the harsh quaver that had just ceased. She spoke of a hundred thoughtful things that Corvan had done—of the deed to which the Spately sisters could bear witness—and Corvan winced at the re- membrance of what that deed had cost him: of his quick assistance to a child with a lacerated foot; of his courtesy, and that kindness which could only spring from love. “That’s what it is! Love of human kind!”’ she cried. ‘And only love could make him understand one thing he did which none of us can really know the mean- ing of. That thing which made Lionel Humphrey young again—which made a soul sick mother happy and a sound man out of a father who looked on life as a failure. That thing he did when he gave Harold Trench back his mind!”’ She stopped short and clapped her hand suddenly to her lips. It was as though she had said too much; but her eyes were fixed on the doorway. Corvan’s eyes had been fixed as intently upon Wade. The man’s granite face that had stared so resolutely into the eyes of Grimshaw had been bent, while the woman spoke, impassively toward the cloth before him. His eyes were lowered inscrutably. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Corvan could divine nothing of what was in Wade’s mind, and yet he felt a sudden, unreasonable pity for the man. Wade had the strength and the power to crush him; and from here Wade would go forth a free man, while he must go out to his ruin. Yet Wade could never know the clear happiness which was Corvan’s even while he writhed under the hurt of his unworthi- ness; that happiness which prevailed against the certain knowledge of his fate; the hap- piness which was flashed to him as though by some occult current from the eyes and faces of all who shared this board. He saw them there, beaming with a profundity of affection that could not be cast in doubt. He caught a glimpse of Queritt’s twin- kling eyes, and thought he detected there a certain understanding that congratulated him. He suddenly felt, rather than heard, the voice of the woman come to a full stop. He gazed at her and saw her eyes intent upon the doorway. It was as though she saw visions. He followed her gaze, and noticed that Wade turned to follow it as well. Within the doorway, having just entered the room, were Albert Trench and his wife. With them were old Humphrey and Mar- garet Fiske; and beside the girl, with her hand upon his shoulder and his young eyes bright with pleasure, stood the boy, Harold. A murmur filled the room. There was the scraping of many chairs upon the floor as men and women arose. Mrs. Fiske arose, sprang forward a pace with a little cry, and stood, transfixed. All the people of the village had known the idiot boy, a pathetic and yet a loath- some figure—and now he stood before them transformed. He stood in the doorway, smiling upon them with a shy, glad smile. And there was not one in the room who did not feel as Corvan had felt when first he had looked upon this new Harold Trench; that a higher spirit walked among them. For where there had been the dull eyes of idiocy, the light of a soul now shone; and it was a soul that had never known the disillusionments of earth. ‘The fine sapphire eyes were radiant with the trust‘and belief of childhood; yet they were the eyes of a man. Eomichbooks:co