Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 140: what you’re looking at

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

296 exclamation of fear and leaped to the side— straight into the point of Clovelly’s weapon! “A swerve at the last instant saved him from a death stroke, but the leaping steel pierced his left forearm between the elbow and the wrist and brought out a quick flow of blood. A fresh shout came from the watchers. And now a richly dressed man ran into view. It was that hidden watcher with the vaguely familiar voice. It was the Duke of Ipswich. “His grace,” said Clovelly, “ has come to see you die. Now, Lascelle,” he added ironically, “for the glory of France. And remembering that narrow, dark street in Orleans where you murdered Darnac—” “ Devil!” groaned Lascelle, and drove in for the finish. He came half blindly. The narrow sword of Clovelly danced, then the flicker of the steel went out, and the point was deep in the Frenchman’s body. He fell without a groan. The rapier, still clutched in his hand, was drawn across his breast. “Clovelly,” he gasped. man.” ““T hope not,” said Clovelly. “I hope not, Lascelle. A villain I have no doubt you have proved yourself this night; but I pray that death will not rob the world of so fine a fencer! Come here—in the name of God, some one with a skill in wounds, come to look to poor Lascelle—” The four came running. Ipswich himself was hurrying forward when Lascelle mut- tered: “Tt is too late, my friend. I feel the darkness in my brain. I felt the sting of death when your point entered me. Well, I have given it to enough! I have given it to enough! Lean closer to me, monsieur. I have done a foul thing to-night in this battle. I shall repay you with a confes- sion.”’ “Of one thing only, Lascelle. Confess to me that when you destroyed Darnac in Orleans it was not through fair battle—”’ “JT am a dead ‘** Lean closer—lean closer! I am weak, Clovelly. I have no strength to speak loudly.” Clovelly, holding back the others as they ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ran up with a gesture, leaned above the dying man. ““ Monsieur,” said Lascelle, “ all who say that they saw me kill Darnac lie. The street was empty. What happened was this: I had fallen by tripping on a damned loosened stone. As Darnac stood above me, I cried out for mercy. He accepted my surrender like a gallant and generous man, and as he leaned to lift me from the ground, I stabbed him thus!” He had been moving his sword as he spoke, until the point was addressed to his target. Now he thrust suddenly at Clovel- ly’s breast. The latter was no better than a dead man, for no movement of his own could have saved him from the sudden and treacherous thrust, but one of Las- celle’s own companions, who had been watching his face intently, jerked Clovelly sharply to the side, so that the point of the fallen man’s sword pricked through his shirt only. ‘““A thousand curses!” groaned Lascelle. “You, De Graumont, I shall return from the grave to haunt you!” De Graumont shrugged his shoulders. ““T saw the devil come into his eyes,” he said quietly, ‘‘ and I knew by that that there was trouble coming. God be thanked that I acted in time or this murderer would have taken another victim with him to hell.” ‘Lascelle,” said Ipswich, speaking with a voice full of horror and yet with something of compassion as well, “ you are fast dying. There is only one thing that can be done for you. Whatever gifts you have to friends or family—whatever messages you wish to send, give them to me. They shall be de- livered, I promise.”’ “Friends?” echoed the dying man thick- ly. “ Family?” He broke into a stifled laugh which choked away to nothingness. His arms and legs twisted convulsively together. Then he lay still, looking up to the broad white face of the moon with dull eyes. He was dead! “A plague has been removed from the world,” said his grace of Ipswich, kneeling by the motionless body. “I call you all to witness that I have never yet read, or seen, or heard of such malice, Vet. argny: On