The Argosy — page 167: what you’re looking at

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

By the Sad Sea Waves. 155 contents, a mist gathers before my sight, ‘and I turn sick and faint. Is it right to be glad at a fellow-creature’s death? I know not. “ What is the matter, Deborah ?” “News. It concerns you.” “ Concerns me?” “Yes. Someone is dead.” She gazes at me with parted lips. ‘Not ——” she begins, and stops. “Yes, he is dead. Your husband has died in prison.” I don’t quite remember how we get through the day, except that we hardly exchange two words. What Ottalie feels I know not. am thankful. ; “Why, there’s a stranger!” I exclaim in wonder, as I discern some tall man marching down the rugged pathway at evening. A gentle- man, too. We had not seen anything of the kind in the place before. Ottalie raises her eyes languidly, and looks out. Ske knows him in spite of the twilight, and she stands up and locks her fingers one within the other in her emotion. He comes in: Jasper Daine. His form fills up the doorway. Open- ing his arms, Ottalie falls into them. And I and he do what we can, both, to still her hysterical sobbing. ‘You see, Miss Peyre,” he says to me, “ Fate has been kinder to us than ——” ‘Than you deserve,” I put in. “Quite so. But, as my wife, I will endeavour to shield her in future from life’s troubles and storms. You shall enjoy peace and rest if I can give them to you, my darling Ottalie.” And the sad sea waves did not sound to me that night so sadly as they had done. Poor weary Ottalie! The dark past was over for her ; hope was dawning ; she might be light-hearted once more, even in this world. M. M. W. comicbooks.com.