The Argosy, Vol. XXV, No. 3 — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

460 , THE ARGOSY, ‘“What is your name?’’ he asked, forgetting that he had already uttered it. ‘“My name is Noel anaes: ’? I said ; and added, ‘‘ Shall we write it down?”’ 3 He shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say, ‘‘ A fool’s jest.’’ ‘“ You have come here from London, Captain Falconer ?’’ ‘From London, prince.”’ ‘‘Then you shall tell me your story.’’ He threw himself, with the air of one greatly fatigued, upon a wicker sofa and motioned me to sit beside him. I could see that he was watching me keenly and waiting for my words. ‘‘ My story is a short one,’’ I said simply. ‘‘I am a man without money or friends. All I know of life has been learned with the English army. Three months ago I resigned my commission in the Tenth Hussars. Today I come to Spain, believing that a new commission will be offered to me.’’ ‘“VYou believe that. What makes you believe it ?’’ ‘“The things I see around me; the things I saw in the hills last night. i ‘““You came through the hills, Pe 2 ‘ Certainly.’’ For a moment he appeared to debate upon it; then he turned the subject. ‘“You can drill a division of cavalry, captain? ”’ ‘“TIt would be strange if I could not.’’ ‘‘ And were the finest swordsman in your regiment ?’’ ‘« They said so.’’ ‘“You have knowledge of tactics—you have studied the science of war?”’ ‘“ That is the one thing I have studied.’’ ‘“You know something of artillery ?’’ It was my time to hesitate. ‘“As much as a cavalry officer ever knows.”’ ‘* You are honest, at least.’’ : ‘‘ Honesty is the riches of a poor man, prince."’ | ‘“And this honest man comes here to help me; he knows something of the service, then ?’’ ‘He knows nothing, prince.”’ ‘‘ But he has the wish to learn ?”’ ‘“ He has the wish to quit a life which is a curse to him; he has the wish to own a horse again—the wish to forget that his name is a byword in England.’’ He nodded his head at the words as though they pleased him. ‘Then, very rudely, he rose from his seat to go and look over the shoulder of the lad Ximeno. Five minutes must have passed before he spoke to me again. ‘‘Come,’’ he said, folding his arms and posing in one of those dramatic attitudes which were as ridiculous as they were frequent, ‘‘ who sent you to this place ?”’ It was the question I had dreaded all along. I remembered Madame de Gavarnie’s warnings. Yet what tale could J tell him. Eomicbooks (<(@)