The Argosy — page 122: what you’re looking at

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

110 The Master of Greylands, ‘You cannot help me at all, then ?” “ Not at all; in this.” It seemed rather hard to the young man, as he rose from his seat to depart. All he wanted was fair play, open dealing; and he could not get it. ‘‘My Uncle Peter, with whom I have just been, said a thing that I did not like,” he stayed to remark ; “it rather startled me. I presume —TI should think—that he is a man of strict veracity ?” “Mr. Peter Castlemaine? Undoubtedly.” ‘Well, sir, what he said was this. That were I to spend my best years and energies in the search after information, I should be no wiser at the end than I am now.” ‘That I believe to be extremely probable,” cordially assented the lawyer. “But do you see the position in which it would leave me? Years and years !—and I am not to be satisfied one way or the other? ” The attorney froze again. “Ah; yes; true.” “ Well, sir, I will say good-day to you. And I can only say I wish you had been at liberty to advise me.” They parted ; and the young man found himselt in the street again. It had been one of the brightest of days; but during this short interview at the lawyer's, the weather seemed to have changed. The skies, as Anthony Castlemaine looked up, were now dull and threaten- ing. He buttoned his warm coat about him, and began his walk back to Greylands. “Je crois que nous aurons de la neige,” he said, in the familiar language to which he was most accustomed ; “ et je n’at pas de para- pluie. N’importe ; je marcherai vite.” Walk fast! And to Greylands! Could poor Anthony Castlemaine have foreseen the black pall of Fate, already closing upon him like a shadow, he had turned his steps away from Greylands for ever. (Zo be continued.) ECORNICLOOO SS (C(O) in —_)