The Argosy, Vol. 61, No. 4 — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

684 ther was on the point of telling me who youare. I have asked nothing—not even your name. But—I am mortal curious! ”’ For one brief instant I was sore tempt- ed to tell her all—to confess that I was a spy, and that in rescuing me she had un- knowingly struck a blow at the England she loved. But how could I? I was not my own master. My life was my country’s—not my own. My secrets were not mine for the telling. She would, moreover, learn everything soon enough. The story had spread like wildfire. The first friend she met would tell it to her; even as that fat captain we had so abruptly left had started to do. And, for once, duty and inclination were of one mind. How could I bear the shame and hor- ror in this loyal English girl’s face when she should hear that she had succored a foe of her country? I could not tell her. Yet—in spite of duty and inclination —something within me craved to turn to this wondrous maiden for sympathy ; to tell her of my miserable, repressed childhood, my years of poverty and wan- dering, my soldierly career, and my patriotic reasons for becoming a spy. It was a maudlin impulse, unworthy of a grown man. But, before you sneer at me, remem- ber that I was half starved, that my nerves were raw, and—most of all—that it was glorious Miriam Dacre who had asked me for my confidence, whose eyes were even now beseeching me. ‘““T will tell you what little I can,” I made shift to reply, ‘‘ but the chief ques- tion I cannot answer—both because I dare not and because I have not the right. If it will be any consolation, I can assure you that you will hear all about me from a dozen tongues before the day is out— and in far more eloquent, elaborate, ex- citing language than I* could master. You wish to know who I am? I can answer that—in part.” Her eyes, which had clouded with dis- appointment, cleared, and she smiled an invitation to me to speak. “T am called Ralph Dale,” I began, then paused as I saw her lips silently framing the “ Ralph Dale” over and over, as though to determine whether or not it pleased her. THE ARGOSY. She smiled again, and for some absurd reason I was happy in the knowledge that she liked my poor name. ‘I am a Jerseyman,’’ I went on. come from Pompton, and—’” “Pompton?” she repeated, puzzled. ‘“T know of no such place on the Isle of Jersey. Is it—” ‘I am speaking of the Colony of New Jersey,” I corrected, “ where I was born. You see, I[—” ‘You are American, then? I should have thought from your voice and man- ner—” ‘““My-voice and manner,” I answered, ‘are neither of America nor of England, but of stageland.” ‘“T don’t understand.” se | ‘“T mean,” I went on, “I am an actor.” ‘“An actor?” she exclaimed, incredu- lous. “ You are—” “Yes,” I laughed ebitterly, “a profes- sional vagabond; a cheap play-actor; a disreputable mouther of wiser men’s words; a fellow who mimics great deeds he has not the wit nor the manhood to perform—such a one as would seek to play the gentleman in order to bask in your smiles for one short hour at the Mischianza, and then would enact the whining suppliant to cajole you into smuggling him from a city whence most likely he is wanted by the police for no nobler crime than non-payment of his board-bill. That is I—Ralph Dale!” “Why will you hurt me by speaking so brutally?” she pleaded. ‘It is cruel, unjust. [—’” ‘I but echoed the popular idea con- cerning us stage folk,’ I answered. “And what am I, to claim exception to the rule? Look! Even now I am re- paying your mercy by sneers. Would a gentleman do that? Forgive me! My heart is sore with the role I have had to enact before you, and it finds vent for its pain in savageness. For I would rather appear well in your eyes than in those of all the world. I am insane to talk like this. I came to say farewell. Let it be said while I have the strength to remem- ber that I am at least a man, and that you are—an angel of pity. Good-by, and, oh, God bless you—God bless you al- ways!” The first level ray of the rising sun COMICLOO CO