Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 7, 1928 — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

o4 serves Santo Domingo bound ships,” he said. ‘ We have luck, young sir, and my indisposition being past, I’d take a second dancing lesson of your skill.”’ “Gladly,” responded Trelawney. “But in this cabin, sir. Wet decks remind me of another night which I am loath to recall.” “ Sacré bleu!” quoth the baron con- temptuously. “‘ Your stomach turns at thoughts of gore? You'll need to harden it before you meet King Chris- tophe. ““T mind me, that he has a slide lead- ing down. from his audience chamber, into which are thrown those he con- siders unnecessary to the welfare of his empire. I’ve heard their dying shrieks many times as we sat feasting. One of them was his white wife who had found another lover. But you are young to hear such tales.” “Too young by far,” answered Tre- lawney, ‘“‘ to understand why a woman should turn from men like you and Christophe.” The baron turned sidewise to sur- vey himself in the mirror. “He has many wives,” “and I am yet a bachelor.” “Then ’tis by choice, Pll warrant; or because you’re too proud to give up liberty to maids of Santo Domingo.” “There are some, I'll admit,” the baron coughed, flourishing a kerchief of scarlet silk, “‘ I might have wed, only ’twould grieve those I left, and grieve a wife when I sail away, as now.” “ Of acertainty,” agreed Trelawney. “There was expected to arrive at the island, a marquise of France by name of De Tourraine, when I left. Christophe’s men overran an estate at Grand Pré and took letters and other trinkets, and some I read, which told of her coming. With the letters was a miniature on ivory. “ Christophe gave it to me and hint- ed that if I brought the guns he want- ed, I might ask the favor of the hand of this French lily flower.” he sighed, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “De Tourraine!” Basil’s blood seemed to freeze in his veins. There could be only one maid by that name sailing for Santo Domingo. “Violette de Tourraine, a pretty name, a pretty maid by her likeness. But she sails in troublous times. TI hope we may reach port before some other claimant to his favor moves Em- peror Christophe. Not that fair maids are scarce.” “Of acertainty.”’ Basil’s voice was toneless. He saw, by the light of memory, a maid of France standing in the cloistered seclusion of a garden at Rouen, tall lilies banked in ferns about her skirts, and on her face the bloom of innocence, sweet-flushed with consciousness of love that dawns in the springtime of life. He saw again the trembling of her lips and the quick breath lifting her bosom. The touch of her fingers on his hand had been butterfly light. He seemed to see her facing this leering Baron de Banana, fear in her eyes, a shadow like death at her heart, and it was all he could do to retain his composure. Yet he dared not be- tray his secret. “Suppose, instead of dancing les- sons, we throw dice and name as a wager, the hand of this maid you speak about and whom you have not yet seen. I take your word for her beau- ty, and trust to your honor to pay the debt should you lose. “ Against that stake, I lay my life. Time drags on this cruise, and if I lose, your men will have the joy of seeing me dance a last measure. I'll promise to make it lively.” “You jest,” declared De Banana. “You always jest, it seems.’ “ Better a laugh than a sigh, as torted Trelawney. ‘ Gefondo, fetch dice for us, and watch while I win my- self a wife from the baron.” Gefondo brought cubes of ivory ina box of gold, heavily chased, and placed it on the table. “°Tis the dice our captain always Gomichbooks (E@)