The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 301: what you’re looking at

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

@ THE COIL OF CIRCUMSTANCE. “The Duke de Soria is—or was, I should say—the rightful ruler of this ‘little kingdom; he is in truth Prince de Montebiancia. Unfortunately, how- ever, his cousin Georges occupies the throne, and has done so, in defiance of law and right, for his lifetime. “The Duke de Soria has schemed for years to come into his own. Up to the present time there seemed to be some likelihood of his attaining to this ambition; Georges, I hear on authority, 1s dying—but now the rightful occupant of the throne is dead! “TI think I may say that the duque did not seek the throne for selfish reasons alone, senor, although the principality is a rich one. The duque has a very beautiful daughter for whose sake he wishes to regain his rights, that she may rule the principality on his death. A most beautiful woman, indeed, Anita ‘ Anita!” He looked at me with some surprise. “Yes, senor, that is the name.” “You have seen her, then? ” ‘“‘ Many times, senor, in Madrid, where the duque resided.” He courteously ignored my astonish- ment, which, I fear, I allowed to be- come all too obvious. The miniature, then, was that of his own daughter! Was it not more than passing strange that the two girls, one a resident of Spain, one an American, should be so much alike? What wonder that I gasped. ‘“‘ Naturally, then, senor,” continued Lestrade, “the duque has many enc- mies, not the least of whom you may count Georges. But why he should have come to America, why he should have shown such emotion on learning of the death of the Senor Morrison, why, in short, he should have been attacked here, and assassinated—it is more than I can guess. “Georges would hardly go to the length of sending his hired murderers across the ocean to put his rival out of the way.” “ But why should they have abducted my wife, senor?” I interrupted. “That [ cannot tell you ”—he smiled gravely. “But you have spoken of a certain satchel, a valise, upon which > Pd 297 the duque set great store. Have you examined that?’ Perhaps there you might find the clue which would put you on the track.” “T was about to do so when you rang,” I replied. “It is, however, my misfortune to be unacquainted with the Spanish language, and all the papers are worse than Greek to me _ there- fore.” ‘““It would be a happiness to me to assist you,” he suggested. “ You’d make me more than happy if you did,” said I. “Tam at your service, senor.” He rose, bowing. I led the way to the dining-room, where I had left the satchel and its contents—led the way, and stopped at the door, fortunately, al- lowing him to precede me into the room. I thought there was the bare sugves- tion of an eager light in his eyes when they fell upon the documents spread out on the table. CHAPTER XIII. IN WHICH THE DEAD WALK. THe Senor Lestrade drew up a chair and seated himself. I offered him a smoke, but he declined, preferring, he averred, a cigarctte. For my part, I lt another cigar, thinking that the smoke would tend to soothe my nervousness. I seemed pos- sessed of a presentiment that this man would help me find my wife. Those papers contained a_ secret which only he could discover—and he was willing to do so. In another hour, if all went well, I might be on the road to her whose heart was mine, for whose lips and love I hungered and thirsted mightily. By this time, I think, most of my de- sire to clear up the mystery of the double murder was at an end; the mat- ter no longer obsessed my brain as he- fore. The thought that possessed me to the exclusion of all else was that mv wife, my Anita, was in the hands of men unscrupulous, the hired thugs of a conscienceless princeling whose one thought was to retain his throne for himself and his heirs. ECOMMIC OO CO