The Argosy — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

Tn ee | rhe M tller's Revenge. 135 at him as he sat on a low stool opposite to her, waiting patiently for her recovery. He sat without speaking, waiting till her senses should be thoroughly restored. By that dim light the millers face looked as hard, as cruel, and as utterly relentless as though it were the face of an Eastern idol in some temple'by the ‘sacred river.’ “At last he rose and stretched himself. ‘You will do now for my purpose,’ he said. * * Mercy !’ murmured the woman, for the third time. “Tf that’s all you have to say, you may as well save your breath,’ sneered Lebrun. Then, without another word, he took her up under his arm, as though she were a truss of straw’; and opening the door,. carried her into the little croft outside, and laid her on the grass. Then he went back into the mill and fetched ‘another long piece of cord. The autumn morning, clear and chilly, was just breaking. The eastern sky was streaked with pencils of saffron light. Night’s dark skirts still lingered in the west. The incoming tide was breaking in great showers ‘of spray on the rocky teeth outside the bay, and beating, white-fringed and passionate, against the restraining sands, as though it were a prisoner beating its heart out against its prison bars. ‘‘The huge wheel by which the machinery of the mill was set in motion worked in a deep stone trough, hollowed out of the ground, into which, after performing its office of turning the wheel, the water fell from above, and was carried away by some underground channel. The wheel itself was made of timber, strongly bolted and bound with iron. ‘“‘Lebrun’s next action was to fetch the short ladder, by means of which Mére Babet had gained access to the mill. This he put down into the trough, so that its lower end rested on the broad tire of the mill-wheel. Then picking up Mére Babet, and holding the loose cord in his teeth, he cautiously descended the ladder, step by step, till he and his burden were safe at the bottom, standing inside the wheel on the green and slippery wood-work. With quick and nimble fingers, the miller next proceeded to tie the helpless woman to one of the huge spokes of the wheel. It was done quickly and well, and Lebrun nodded his head, and grinned sardonically at the excellence of his own handi- work. A low moan for mercy—always the same word—burst from Mére Babet’s lips now and again. Otherwise she was silent. As soon as Lebrun had satisfied himself that it was impossible for his prisoner to escape, he deliberately remounted the ladder and drew it up after him. Then he paused and spoke. ‘ You thought to rob Pierre Lebrun, and not suffer for it! Vile thief! You will never rob again. Long before this morning’s sun 1s half-way up the sky, the devil, to whom you belong, will have claimed his own again. Adieu, ma mre! Present to his highness the assurance of my distinguished consideration, and tell him that if he ever ventures this way, I will serve him as I am serving you. Adieu! ad‘eu!’ comicaooks GO)