The Argosy — page 317: what you’re looking at

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

Featherston’s Story. 303 door—which was near the head of the stairs ; Lavinia’s door being nearly at the end of the passage. Unmistakable sounds, now a shriek, now a wail, came from Lavinia’s chamber. Nancy flew into it, her fair hair falling on her shoulders. ‘‘ What is it, Lavinia?—Oh, Edwin, Edwin, come here! ” called Mrs. Fennel, beside herself with terror. Lavinia was rolling about the bed, as she had the previous day rolled on the salon floor; her face was distorted with pain, her moans and cries were agonising. Captain Fennel stayed to put on his coat, came to Lavinia’s door, and put his head inside it. ‘‘Is it the pain again Pp” he asked. “Yes; itis the pain again,” gasped Lavinia, in answer. “I am dying. Iam surely dying.” That put the finishing touch to timorous Nancy. ‘“ Edwin, run, run for M. Dupuis,” she implored. ‘Oh, what shall we do? What shall we do?” Captain Fennel descended the stairs. When Nancy thought he must have been gone out at least a minute or two, he appeared again with a wine-glass of hot brandy and water, which he had stayed to mix. “Try and get her to take this,” he said. ‘It can’t do harm; it may do good. And if you could put hot flannels to her, Nancy, it might be well: they eased the pain yesterday. I'll bring Dupuis here as soon as I can.” Lavinia could not take the brandy and water, and it was left upon the grey marble top of the chest of drawers. Her paroxysms in- creased ; Nancy had never seen or imagined such pain, for this attack was worse than the other, and she almost lost her wits with terror. Could she see Lavinia die before her eyes ?—no helping hand near to strive to save her? Just as Nancy had done before, she did again now. Flying down the stairs and out of the house, across the yard and through the dark entry, she seized the bell-handle of Madame Veuve Sauvage’s door and pulled it frantically. The household had all retired for the night. Presently a window above opened, and M. Gustave—Nancy knew his voice—looked out. ** Who’s there ?” he asked in French. ‘* What’s the matter ?” ‘‘Oh, M. Gustave, come in for the love of Heaven !” responded poor Nancy, looking up. ‘She has another attack, worse than the first ; she’s dying, and there’s no one in the house but me.” ‘‘ Directly, madame ; I am with you on the instant,” he kindly answered. ‘I but wait to put on my effects.” He was at the little Maison Rouge almost as soon as she; his brother Emile followed him in, and Mariette, whom they had called, came shortly. Miss Preen lay in dreadful paroxysms; it did appear to them that she must die. Nancy and Mariette busied themselves in the kitchen, heating flannels. CORNICE LOOKS (GO) i