Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

WITHOUT FEAR. of night, care was cast to the winds and all hands celebrated the safe completion of their journey in a banquet. In the captain’s cabin the wine flowed freely and, in the absence of the master of the vessel, who remained on deck owing to the difficulties of navigation in those shal- low waters, his sergeant, Barré, occupied his chair and vied, with the supercargo, Duval, in plying the rest of the company with wine. “Drink heartily, mademoiselle et mes- sieurs,’ encouraged Barré for the hundredth time as he held a brimming flagon aloft and looked about for an empty goblet to fill. ‘‘ Mile. Felice, you have taken but a few mouthfuls this evening—we must cele- brate our last night aboard ship in fitting manner!” He reached forward and filled the girl’s glass, but she smiled regretfully as she pushed the goblet away from her to the center of the table. “T have had sufficient, monsieur,” she replied, and her eyes sparkled as she inter- cepted a look of approval in those of her lover who sat opposite her. Raoul Bourdelais, well in his cups, was still capable of remarking this little byplay and his already flushed face reddened fur- ther with drunken anger. He turned to Felice, who sat beside him. “Just one little drink, m’a’mselle,”’ he cajoled. ‘‘ One drink to the success of my mission in Louisiana!” Felice shook her head. ‘“‘T never take more than two glasses of wine at the most, monsieur,’”’ she replied. ‘“‘ My father does not approve of my taking more.” ‘“ But he is not here,”’ persisted the Swiss, pushing the glass toward her. ‘‘ Come, Felice, one little drink to our future happi- ness!” D’Albret, who had been regarding this little scene with evergrowing anger, stiffened when he heard: Bourdelais address the maiden by her name. “‘ Mademoiselle is well advised to abide by her father’s counsel, monszeur,” he said regarding the Swiss with steely gaze, but Bourdelais was either too drunk to no- tice the threat in the other’s eyes or else his 199 courage had been bolstered by the wine he had consumed. ‘IT was not aware that you had been ap- pointed her guardian, D’Albret,” retorted Bourdelais thickly. “ Felice is old enough to know her own mind.” “And I have decided that I do not wish more wine,” replied the girl. ‘ Further- more, monsteur, you will be pleased to re- frain from any further undue familiarity. I am not ‘ Felice’ to you.” Barré tried, with forced gayety, to avert the quarrel of which he had been the un- witting author, but Bourdelais paid him not the slightest attention. Disregarding the looks of disapproval which were directed his way, he seized the girl’s goblet and forced it to her lips. “As mine affianced bride, Felice,” he muttered savagely, ‘‘ you will do as I bid thee. In Louisiana I am omnipotent and there is no one to say me nay when I com- mand. Drink of this wine, Felice—we will get drunk together!” Felice struggled in the man’s embrace, and the liquor spilled down over her dress as she violently resisted his best efforts to force her to quaff of it—then suddenly his arms were torn from her and she looked down in terror at the man’s sprawling form upon the floor of the cabin, over which D’Albret was standing, nursing bruised knuckles. Bourdelais lay where he had fallen for a moment and he stupidly raised a wine- drenched hand to his rapidly swelling jaw. He looked up at his assailant in dazed be- wilderment for a moment and then he rolled over on his side and slowly staggered to his feet. ‘You shall pay for that cowardly blow, monsieur !”’ he threatened furiously, his fea- tures contorted with rage. ‘“‘ You have signed your death warrant in laying hands upon my person!” He swayed uncertainly upon his feet, and then he cringed in sudden terror as D’Albret advanced upon him. The Gascon seized the drunken wretch by the collar of his coat and propelled him toward the door. ‘“T shall call upon you in the morning,” he retorted as he thrust the protesting Swiss GOMIGIOO S (©