The Argosy, Vol. 61, No. 4 — page 116: what you’re looking at

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

674 red roses from the fallen vase carpeting the space between us. But between us also had risen, all at once,a barrier higher than the Appalachians themselves. I felt like one suddenly shut out of para- dise after setting foot on its threshold. A little gasping sob from the girl broke the spell. She pressed her white fingers to her eyes in an oddly childish gesture and ran from the room, taking - with her, somehow, all that was beauti- ful in life. With a start, I came to myself. ‘The din in the theater had increased and was drawing closer. I snatched up that wretched periwig, shook the water-drops from it, and clapped it back on my head. Then, with the languid step and mask- like face of utter boredom, I sauntered forth to the noisy auditorium. The commotion surged about one rap- idly swelling group of cavaliers, whose center was a bald-headed, red-faced man, clad in the gray suit of a Quaker. He was talking wildly, with many gesticula- tions. I had already recognized the voice. Now I knew the face for Sir Harvey Digby’s, and the hastily donned garments for my own Quaker suit. Yes, even to the coat whose skirts contained my precious plans and statistics. “T tell you I am zo¢ drunk!” Digby was shrieking. “Scrape me raw if | have tasted wine or spirits this two hours. "Tis as I’ve twice told you. That mur- d’rous Yankee spy—Ralph Dale, the blockhead watch captain named him— came upon me unawares and struck me down. He pilfered my court suit, leav- -ing these monstrous shabby rags in their place. I had to put these on, perforce. for covering’s sake, till I can get to my rooms and change. But first of all I came here direct to warn Sir Henry and General Howe that the fellow’s at large, and to have him laid by the heels forth- with.” ‘Sir Henry is at his headquarters, ill,” said André soothingly, “and General Howe has gone to the barracks with a report from Tarleton. Best let me call a chair and have you sent to your rooms. ‘Turning our little revels into a Bedlam, as you are doing, will scarce avail to catch the spy. Come away, I beg. The ladies—”’ THE ARGOSY. “As you will,” “but I—zounds! ered waistcoat! ”’ He had caught sight of me standing against the wall of the auditorium near the stage, and lurched toward me with clawlike fingers outspread. I kept quiet by vast effort of will-power, and even forced to my drawn face a smile of faint amusement. “Where got ye that waistcoat?” roared Digby. ‘‘ ‘Tell me that! And— by the magic sword of St. George, the precious villain hath my whole suit as well! Oh, monstrous! ’Tis the spy himself! Here, under our very noses! Watch, ho! <A spy/ Seize him, gentle- men, I pray ye! I apprehend him red- handed. A Yankee spy—and a most egregious thief, as well! ”’ I wonder if you think I boited? If so, you have a sadly distorted idea of us who live by our wits, and who daily hold starvation and death itself at arm’s length by sheer power of brain. I looked the maddened accuser over from head to foot through my quizzing grumbled Digby, If yon is not my flow- - glass, as I might have eyed a curious wild beast. ‘Then, with a shrug, and edg- ing nearer the stage, as though to avoid the clutch of his straining fingers, I daint- ily flicked with my lace handkerchief the sleeve of my coat where his clawing hand had touched, and glanced across at André. “Captain,” I drawled, “is this some unannounced feature of your Mischianza revels? If so, I commend it as a merry novelty. But I regret that I, a compara- tive stranger here, should have been chosen as its butt.” ‘“T offer ten thousand pardons, my dear Dacre,” apologized André, stepping be- tween me and the sputtering, infuriated Digby. ‘ Believe me, ’tis not my fault that Sir Harvey should have chosen this as the scene for his delirium tremens, or that he should pick out a Dacre as his victim. Pray overlook it, for the sake of good-fellowship.” | It did me good to see the doubtful faces of the bystanders grow clear of sus- picion at André’s words and.at the men- tion of the name. “ Dacre.” To most of them I was a total stranger, and Digby was well known. But with André vouching for me, the tables turned COMICLOO (©