Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 2 — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

THE TORCH. go before I was seen with you—told me never to come back.” “Why did you come back?” Mary spoke with face averted. “ Asif you didn’t know why! Because I never could put you out of my mind one in- stant. Because I loved you and was bound to have you—oh, I know now I did wrong! Don’t blame me, I knew no better then. I am bitterly ashamed—’”’ “T do not blame you.” Still Mary did not turn her face toward him. ‘‘ But now, when I realize who you are, what you are— Do you understand that I would take you as my wife? Do you know I would give you a name men respect; that I'll bring you the whole world to play with, Mary? ‘Are you heartless? Are you made of stone—I say I love you. If you'll come away with me from this mad place—Mary, if you could pity me! Ii—” Now Mary looked at him. Her eyes were so kind, her regard so gentle that Fortune impulsively drew closer. She checked him with a little gesture almost unconscious. “You deserve an honest answer,” she said in a tone so low Fortune could scarcely hear. ‘‘I realize that you are at least sin- cere. And, my friend, oh, my dear—I— I’m sorry!” “ Sorry!” ‘““T am not stone, Fortune. «I do feel—” “You do, you say you—”’ ‘No, I do not love you. I can’t love you—or any man. Listen to me! I have my work to do—yes, it, is my work and it means more than my life to me—more than happiness. I could not be happy with you. Until that work is done, until that cause is served to which I have given myself ever since I was old enough to know right from wrong, I will love no man. I will feel for. no man nor even think of any man except to turn him to the service of Our Lady of the Torch. Fortune, I want you to under- stand me—you deserve that much. Il would not have you die, I would not have you lost to me forever thinking hardly of me.” Mary rose, and Fortune rose and stood close to her. She regarded him with a grave kindliness. ‘‘ We must say good-by,” she ~. 247 whispered sadly. “I think it will be for- ever. But I am glad that you spoke again —I am proud you think of me as you do. Just as I am glad—and proud—to serve— to serve—” “ Mary! Mary—?’_ ‘““Good- by.” Impulsively her hand reached out and the fingers rested a sec- ond, very lightly, on his cheek. She turned and walked away swiftly. The dignity of her good-by denied him all thought of fol- lowing—of argument. Toward evening, as he lounged at the stone parapet that formed the base of the ruined statue, staring into the lazy blue dis- tance without coherent thought, Fortune saw that Zorn stood beside him. The black-robed recluse observed him sternly. “The time has ended, captain,” said | Zorn. night.” “Yes,” Fortune nodded. If only he knew of Kinst’s answer for him—or if Kinst had an answer! “Well,” Zorn insisted, cided?” ‘“T have decided.” Zorn frowned. ‘‘ You evade me,” he complained. with us.” Now Fortune saw that he must have every possible advantage to carry out his plan—if the opportunity of that plan was offered. He would not give his word— even to Zorn. But an indirect lie—after all, Zorn was not Mary, he could regard Zorn as an enemy—a man who stood in his way. “I think, then,” he smiled, “ that my answer will greatly surprise you. Very greatly.” “Good!” Zorn exclaimed with a sigh of relief. ‘‘ Then you are with us?” “TI would prefer to explain myself to all the Comrades—”’ ‘‘ Certainly, certainly! Captain, I con- gratulate you—and the cause, too. I ap- preciate what we have gained.” “Thank you,” Fortune smiled. ‘‘ And I was worried because I thought you’d have to die.” Zorn laughed. “So Mary has won you? The girl is wonder- ful!” ‘ “You will give us your answer to- “you have de- Gomichbook “T do. not think you are . (C@