The Argosy — page 326: what you’re looking at

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

310 Within their Gates. better. I thought you loved me well enough to entrust yourself to me ; to be my companion in exile—my own dear wife.” His voice softened, his face melted as he spoke, and the gir!’s heart leaped with a mighty thrill. For an instant she wavered : her heart did; not her judgment or her rectitude. Opening his arms he drew her face to his. “You must decide af once, Mary. I have not a minute to lose. Already I have thrown away an hour of the precious time that ought to have been given to making good my escape, in waiting here for you. My love, will you not go with me ?—will you not trust all to me? Believe me, I will never fail you. Surely you will not send Mme away alone!” ‘ ‘“‘T cannot go, Francis,” she sobbed, amidst her raining tears. “I cannot, will not leave my father and my home clandestinely: and, as I say and you must know, from him there is no hope. Oh, it seems that I would rather have died than had to bear this cruel pain!” “Then we must part!” “Yes, we must part. And, oh Francis, my best beloved—I dare to call you so in this closing hour—let us part now; this moment; do not delay longer. Your liberty ——” “Perhaps in future, Mary,” he interrupted, looking straight into her eyes, ‘if matters turn out well, we may yet meet again. And your father A cry escaped her. Some movement on the opposite heights had caught her eye, and she knew that his pursuers were close upon him. Instinctively she drew him back into the thick trees, and they were both concealed by their shade. “‘ They are there,” she whispered. “Yes. No time to lose, indeed. I don’t think they saw me.” But how was he to escape? If they came down into the glen, all was over. Two or three men were there, Mr. Hale one of them. “Fortunate that they don’t see my valise,” wonpered | Mr. Stanley. “T lodged it just within the shed yonder.” “If they would only go away !” breathed Mary, in an agony; “go off on any of the roads—you might escape yet. There’s one of them looking down !” _¢ They hardly dared to breathe. They stood there, holding one another, as if for safety: at least, he held Mary. . At that moment there occurred a tremendous crashing and crushing on this side, just above them: somebody was tearing down straight-foremost, without taking the trouble to seek the path. “ Farewell, my best and dearest,” he whispered, his lips clinging to hers ; “they shall never take me with life.” But the intruder was not a Bow Street runner, if the appellation may be used yet, but only Tom Owen. Tom Owen, being: light) and lithe comicbooks.com