The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 178: what you’re looking at

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

168 “It vill do you good to suffer a leetle,” said he, and Saville was left to make his next move. He drew his hands from underneath him with infinite caution, though it cost him agony. His shoulders felt as though red hot irons were being thrust through - them. He had no knife to cut the cords which bound his legs, nor was the sharp stone loose, otherwise he might have made shift to use it. He tried to unfasten the knots, but his fingers, raw and stiff as they were, found it an impossible task. Besides he feared that Foularde would suspect something if he fidgeted about too much. The sound of deep, regular breathing came from the chair in which Foularde now sat. Was he asleep? It would seem that he was, at least, dozing. Saville took fresh heart. He knew that a few yards behind him and to the left, was the switch which governed the electric light. Slowly, using his hands as levers, he dragged himself toward the sleeping man. The position of the revolver on the table was clearly visualized in Saville’s brain, and his fingers, quivering like the antennz of an insect, touched the cold barrel almost immediately. The breath- . ing was deep and. regular enough now, but it was in absolute silence that Saville slid back to the wall. To raise himself to an erect position without breaking that silence was not so easy, but he managed it at last, though Foularde stirred uneasily once. Saville’s left hand reached out through the dark- ness, and the light blazed forth. Foularde leaped up with a startled oath. “Up with your hands,” cried Saville, and there was a savage determination in his steelly tone, which cowed Foularde even more than the menacing barrel into which he found himself staring. “ Throw a knife on the floor—there at my feet,” commanded Saville. “T have no knife, monsieur,’ replied Foularde, his voice shaking. Saville hesitated a moment, then stooping slightly, he discharged the re- THE ARGOSY. volver. The bonds fell away and his legs were free. He staggered momen- tarily. The circulation returning in his numbed limbs was causing him agony. The revolver drooped in his nerveless hand. | Swift as a panther, Foularde saw his chance and, diving forward, snatched the weapon from Saville, who no less quickly reached out and switched off the light, stooping low at the same time. The last movement saved his life. Foularde fired and Saville heard the bullet strike the wall behind him. He was rapidly recovering the use of his legs and he stepped noiselessly a few paces to the right. His hand came in contact with something on the table. It was the candlestick. He tossed it across the chamber. It fell with a clatter close to Foularde, who uttered a sudden cry of alarm and fired again, wildly, in the di- rection of the sound. Then Saville, exerting all his strength, raised the table and hurled it directly at Foularde, whose position the mauve flash had revealed. There was a crash, a louder shriek of terror, then a sound which made Saville’s blood run cold. The opening to the lower cave had been left uncovered and Foularde had stepped over into the gulf. CHAPTER XXIV. _ FATE’S DECREE. AVILLE and Ellen Lisle were on the ledge together. The Benmore lay at anchor on the other side of the island and they were as much alone as though in the midst of a desert. Foularde had met his death instan- taneously, and Saville, shaken and all but exhausted had gone out to meet speedy rescue. He now reclined on the ledge as of old and sweet companionship made his paradise complete. “And so you met the old Benmore only five days out,” said he. ‘‘ That was luck indeed.” COPMICGLOOOKS (C@)