The Argosy, April 1912 — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

22 Sweeping off my hat with my very best bow, I advanced upon the father and daugh- ter. They had not seen me until I was close to them. Then the look that sprang into the eyes of each could hardly be con- strued as one of warm welcome. I halted, irresolute, before that double gaze of utterly horrified contempt. ‘Then, manlike, I rushed to my destruction. “No doubt you have forgotten me?” I commenced, hoping that I had misread the look that I could not at all account for. “We met once before. I am Gordon Clyde—” I paused. Mark Errol, quivering with rage and supporting himself upon his staff, had risen to his feet. “You cur!” he panted, thrusting his face toward mine. “You man-selling, contempt- ible cur!” Now, no living man of mine own age and strength could have lived to boast that he had spoken such words to me. But from an old and sick one I could not exact pay- ment. Moreover, Errol’s odd speech struck me dumb. I had risked life and liberty for him. I had saved him from the headsman’s block. And now— “Were you not content,” he raved on, “to play the blackguard and help in my arrest, but now you must pollute with your pres- ence the air we breather” Still wholly in the dark, I, nevertheless, choked back my choler and said: “Will you kindly explain, sir?” “Explain?” he rasped.. “Explain to you, perchance, that you aided the minions of the law to make an unjust arrest? ‘That you curried favor with the king by seizing me and thrusting me into the very arms of the city watch? That you dragged my weeping daughter from my embrace and delivered me over to the law? Explain? Faugh!” I well recalled the scene he had described. But that—in the light of what I had done directly afterward—he could so grossly misunderstand my actions «vas more than I could believe. “Pray, sir,” I insisted, “since you have so accurately depicted my actions in that room where we met, go on and describe what befell after I had pushed you out into the dark passageway.” “Ah!” he cried, with a smile of ‘sour triumph. “’Twas then that Providence mercifully overruled your evil intent. As THE ARGOSY. you well may not know that I escaped your clutches, I will tell you, in order that you may see how miserably you failed.” ““Yes,”’ I assented drearily enough, “I have failed. And miserably. Go _ on, I beg.” “In the darkness there,” pursued Errol, “of a sudden all was turmoil and confu- sion. I know not clearly what happened, for all passed so swiftly. But I opine that my captors quarreled among themselves. There was a scuffle. In it I lost my cloak and my beaver hat, and I was thrust by chance into a corner, while the fight raged on past me. The next moment the city watch had left the house. By a miracle I was saved.” “Accept my warm congratulations,’ I dryly. “But,” he raged, his anger kindled afresh, “your own vile share in the arrest is none the less black. And for that I would I were a younger man that I might punish you as-you merit.” “Mistress Errol,” I cried, turning to Dorcas, “on my honor I am quite guiltless of this foul offense wherewith your father charges me. Will you believe? Will you let me explain my part in this affair of your father’s arrest?” But as I moved toward her the girl shrank back from me in horror as from some loathed reptile. That gesture of hers, and the look that accompanied it, went to my heart like the thrust of cold steel. I had not thought mor- tal person could so hurt me. Ere I could speak again old Errol was between us. “Every word to my daughter from so low a beast as yourself,” he mouthed, “is an affront. Be silent. Back to your kennel, dog!” | As he spoke he whirled his staff aloft and struck me full across the face with it. The force of the blow and his own enfeebled grip sent the stout oaken cudgel clattering from his hand to the deck. I snatched it up. Dorcas gave a little cry and made as though to throw herself protectingly in front of the raging old man. I looked Mark Errol in the eye for a full half-minute. And under my emotion- less gaze, I saw his face change from fury to senile fear. Then I broke the thick oak staff between my two hands as though it had been a pine wand, and let the pieces fall clattering at my feet. ’ said Ccomicloool. CO