Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 48: what you’re looking at

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

198 sighs of relief, the while the latter regarded his master with unconcealed admiration and he marveled that any person could so dis- guise his voice as he had done. It was with swiftly beating hearts that the two conspirators finally left the cabin and closed the door behind them and, barely had they reached the deck of their own ves- sel when the mooring lines were loosed and the vessels gradually drew apart. André looked questioningly at his master as the space between the two ships widened, and D’Albret nodded his head as he read the mute question in the other’s eye—Bourde- lais was still aboard the galleon, undcubted- ly searching through the bowels of the ves- sel for the supposititious cabin of the mal- treated Rodriguez. When the two ships were about twenty fathoms apart there arose a sudden shout from the galleon and the Swiss appeared upon the vessel’s deck, gesticulating fran- tically to the startled Captain Paradis. The Soliel, her sails bellying to the wind as she swung again upon her original course, was hove-to once more and a small boat was quickly lowered and rowed to the gal- leon. When Bourdelais was aboard, the ship was again turned toward the north, and soon the huge mass of La Santisima Trinidad was miles astern. It was evident that Bourdelais had no suspicion that D’Albret was aware of his perfidy—if such it was. The Swiss paid no attention to the Gascon as he strode furious- ly past him toward. his cabin, and D’Albret smiled significantly as he beckoned to the eager Rossignol and walked aft. Hours later, had any one been looking at the distant horizon where La Santisima Trinidad lay, a small, triangular speck, it might have been observed that the galleon suddenly turned about and that from her side billowed a tiny white puff of smoke. No one noticed the maneuver, and the almost inaudible boom of the distant cannon must have been ascribed to summer thun- der. With the setting of the sun the speedy Frenchman had so increased the distance between herself and the lumbering Spaniard that no sign of the galleon could be seen against the reflected giow upon the eastern sky. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. And in his cabin, Antoine d’Albret knit his brows over the mysterious chart which lay spread out upon the table before him. Seated beside his master, Rossignol scowled perplexedly at the missive and he scratched his ugly head. with a gnarled forefinger as he looked into D’Albret’s face. ‘““'What dost thou make of it, André?” asked D’Albret in disgust as he plowed his fingers through the mass of his curls and glared resentfully at the puzzling enigma. ““'Yon’s a deer,” said André, placing his finger upon the pictured head of the animal, “and the other is an arrow.” D’Alvret smiled. “Thou art most flattering to my skill as an artist, my friend,” he said grimly. ‘ That is supposed to be the head of a deer —on the original it is drawn with rare skill —and that arrow is undoubtedly a direction sign, as witness the letter at its tip, and it points away from the only other intelligi- ble mark on the map—if map it be. Canst make aught of the lettering?” Rossignol smiled apologetically. ““I never learned my letters, m’sieu’. Can you not read what they say?” D’Albret shook his head. “* Toabaletaucmylecodia ’ — it’s gibber- ish, André—gibberish! My head aches from trying to solve the riddle—mayhap my mind will be clearer another day.” He arose and carefully secreted the paper in a small secret pocket on the shoulder strap of his sword belt and then, yawning, he bade André remove his boots and clean them thoroughly. With great care he ar- ranged his hair so that it fell in graceful curls about the frilled ruff of his collar. Finally he permitted the man to assist him in donning a pair of silver buckled slippers. With a last survey of his spotless person he left the cabin and went on deck. All day long the Soliel had threaded her way between countless low, sandy islands and, on the morrow, it was expected that the ship would reach her destination. Through- out the sunlit hours the deck of the vessel had been a scene of animation as the ten score souls aboard her prepared to leave the ship which had been their home for more than two months and, with the fall COMmMicloo @ SS (C@) nn