The Argosy — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

THE PHANTOM ARMY. 249 greeting passed. But that instant of time chained me to her in a bond which nothing but her death or mine may sever. Next morning at ten o’clock old Benjamin and I left Victoria for Madrid. We were at the Casa de Arifio, the best hotel in the Spanish town of Zara- goza, at sunrise on the second day after. ——_—__—. CHAPTER IV.—THE WHITE HuSssARS OF THE MOUNTAINS. I OFTEN used to say that if I had told my man Benjamin to be ready to cut off his master’s head (by request) on the following morning at eight o'clock, he would have answered, ‘‘ Very good, sir.’’ ‘T'wice in his life, per- haps, has he expressed by a look, and a sigh heavy beyond the ordinary, his surprise at that which I had done or was about to do. ‘“ Benjamin, we go to Spain tomorrow.”’ ‘“Very good, sir.”’ You will take first class tickets and berths in the wagons lits.”’ ‘“Very good, sir.’’ ‘‘ To any one who asks you will say that we shall be back in a month’s time—but for your own information, Benjamin, I would have you to know that we may never come back at all.’’ ‘“ Very—good—-sir.”’ But oh! what a sigh upon that. From Paris to Madrid, I do not think that this man of men addressed a word tc me. I heard him, by here and there, cursing in good Middlesex, the various thieves who sought to honor the caballero Ingles. But when we arrived at the picturesque, if dirty town of Zaragoza, surprise at it all became too much for him and we had not been five minutes in the hotel before he blurted out a question. ‘‘ Any orders for tomorrow, sir?’’ ‘‘ Sleep, Benjamin—that is the order. Do you not see it is four o’clock of the morning ?’’ ‘I see many things I don’t understand; sir, beside the clocks.”’ I looked at him. His cunning old eyes were watching me curiously. ‘‘ Your master is in the same position, Benjamin,’’ said I at last. ‘‘ He does not know why he is in this hotel at all; he does not understand how money came into his pockets; he does not know, any more than the dead, where his next bed will be laid. You are astonished—well, so is he. Get him a whisky and soda, Benjamin, or any substitute for it which this stinking city can provide. You like Spain—you like the sevontas, they are better than the housemaid at 92, Benjamin?” He chuckled nervously ; and then became very serious. ‘You will pardon me, sir—that I should name it—well, to be sure, you do not think there is any risk, sir?”’ ‘‘ Benjamin,’’ said I decisively, ‘‘ as for the risk, I am like the converted Jew, I don’t care a curse either way. Where we are going to, or what is to become of us, God only knows. But if our throats must be cut next Satur- Eomichook con