The Argosy — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

The Master of Greylands. 5 A trying silence: Thomas Hill’s face was full of pain and dread. “T have a little money of my own, sir: some of it I’ve saved, some came to me when my brother died,” he said. ‘It is six thousand pounds, and I have neither chick norchild. Every shilling of it shall be yours, sir; as soon as I can withdraw it from where it is invested.” His master grasped his Hands. “ Faithful friend!” he cried, the tears of emotion dimming his brown eyes. ‘‘Do you think I would accept the sacrifice and bring you to ruin as I have brought myself ? Never that, Hill.” “The money shall be yours, sir,” repeated the clerk firmly. “Hush, hush!” cried Mr. Peter Castlemaine. ‘*‘ Though I were dying of shame and hunger, I would not take it. And, do you not see, my frend, that it would be a useless sacrifice? Six thousand pounds would be but as a drop of water to the ocean.” It was so. Thomas Hill saw it. They sat down together and went into the books: the banker showing him amounts and involve- ments that he had never suspected before. The ruin seemed to be close at hand; there seemed to be no possible way out of it. Common ruin Thomas Hill might have got over in time; but this ruin would have turned his hair white in a night, had time not already turned it. And crimes were more heavily punished then than they are now. At a quarter to six o’clock, Mr. Peter Castlemaine was in his dining- room, dressed for dinner. He often had friends to dine with him on market-days, and was expecting some that night: a small social party of half a dozen, himself included. He stood with his back to the fire his brow smoothed, his aspect that of complete ease, for he could hear his butler coming up the stairs to show in the first guest. All the dwelling-rooms were on the first floor, the ground floor being en- tirely appropriated to business. ‘Mr. Castlemaine.” The two brothers shook hands. Mr. Castlemaine was the elder by two years, but he did not look so, and there was a great likeness between them. Fine, upright, handsome men, both, with clear, well-cut features, and keen, flashing, dark eyes. Pleasant men to talk to; but silent as to their own affairs. Mr. Castlemaine had just come in from his residence, Greylands’ Rest. It was in contradistinction to him that the banker was invariably called Mr. Peter Castlemaine. ** All well at home, James?” “ Quite so, thank you.” “You were not in at market to-day.” “No. Are you expecting a large party this evening?” “Qnly six of us. Here comes another.” The butler’s step was again heard. But this time he came mot to announce a guest but to bring a note. Mr. Peter Castlemaine’s me Q) hand shook slightly as he opened it. He dreaded etleias 19