The Argosy — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

26 Monsicur Silvain's Secret. drifting with the stream along the Boulevards. Infected by the universal gaiety, they had put aside for a time all doubts of the future, giving themselves up to the happiness of the present. To- morrow they would be parted again—who could say for how long? But to-day was theirs, and they would enjoy its sweetness to the utmost. Daylight was waning when at last they turned their faces home- wards. Half way across the Pont-Neuf, Renée paused, with a regretful exclamation : “‘T quite forgot Pére Joyeux ! ” ‘Who is he?” her companion demanded. ‘**An old pensioner of mine; a crippled fiddler who always plays on the bridge. There he is, on the other side. Let us cross over.” “Never mind now, Renée; it is getting dark, and beginning to snow again. Give him something to-morrow.” “But this is New Years Day, and it seems unkind to neglect him when I am so happy. Look, he has seen me—he is looking so wistfully! Stay here, I shall not be a moment.” ‘““Wait—wait till this railway-van has gone past!” he exclaimed ; but she had already darted from his side. The road was slippery with fresh-fallen snow, and when half- way across, the girl’s foot slipped. She made a vain effort to recover herself, and fell just in the track of the heavy vehicle, which came thundering along, drawn by two powerful horses. The driver, on his high perch, did not perceive what had happened till the by- standers uttered a warning shout, which was echoed by a cry of alarm from Maurice, as he hurried to her assistance. Quick as he was, however, someone else had anticipated him. Pére Joyeux, who had been watching her movements, flung his violin aside, and before Maurice could reach the spot, he had snatched her literally from under the horses’ hoofs. The startled animals shied and reared, backing the van against the parapet, and there was a moment of wild confusion and alarm before the driver succeeded in quieting them. Renée, bruised and giddy, leaned half-fainting on the arm of her lover, whose face was scarcely less white than hers. ‘What an escape!” he gasped. “ Are you hurt, Renée?” “No, no; but where is Pére Joyeux who has saved my life?” she asked, anxiously looking round. ‘I heard a cry—oh, what has hap- pened ?” she broke off, noticing that an excited crowd had gathered on the pavement. The compassionate faces of the group answered her beforé she made her way through them and saw the figure of her old friend stretched insensible upon the asphalte. There was no sign of external injury, but his face looked white and pinched, and there was a bluish shadow under his closed eyes. With an inarticulate exclamation of pity, Renée knelt at his side and raised his head on to her knee. comicbooks.com