The Argosy — page 201: what you’re looking at

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

The Master of Greylands. 185 off without telling him. Still he accepted it; and he and the officer quitted the Keep, and turned their steps homeward. ‘Did you get upon the trail of any smugglers at Beeton?” asked John Bent. ‘‘No,” said Mr. Nettleby, rather savagely, for he had had his night’s work for nothing. ‘‘ Couldn’t see any traces of them. I do suspect that Beeton, though. I believe it contains a nest of the lawless wretches !” He turned in at his own gate as he spoke, and the landlord. was speedily at home again. Anthony Castlemaine had not come in. Before eight o’clock in the morning, John Bent, feeling doubtful and uneasy, went up to Greylands’ Rest. He noticed that all the blinds were down, and some of the shutters closed. Miles, the servant man, was outside the back-entrance door, shaking mats. “T thought pone of you could be up yet,” began the landlord. ‘ I’m sure the house looks as though somebody had died in 1t.” ‘“‘And somebody has died, more’s the pity ; though not in the house,” replied Miles, turning his face, full of grave concern, on the speaker. ‘A messenger was here soon after six this morning to fetch the master to Stlborough. Mr. Peter Castlemaine died suddenly last night.” The landlord was shocked. He could hardly believe it. ‘“ Mr. Peter Castlemaine dead!” he exclaimed. “It can’t be true, Miles.” It’s too true,” returned Miles. ‘“‘ But he was so strong and healthy! He had nota trace of illness about him !” ‘‘Ay. But they say it was the heart.” “Well, it’s sad news, any way, and I’m sorry for him,” said John Bent. “Is young Mr. Castlemaine here ?” ‘Not just now. He'll be home sometime this afternoon. He went off to Newerton yesterday on business.” *‘T don’t mean him—Mr. Harry. I mean Mr. Anthony Castlemaine.” ‘What should bring that young man here?” retorted Miles, who made a point of sharing in all the prejudices of his master. John Bent told his tale. It was listened to with disbelieving and resentful ears. ‘“‘My master in at that there blessed scared place, the Friar’s Keep, at twelve o’clock at night! Well, I wonder what next you'll say, Mr. Bent ?” ‘“ But I saw him go in,” returned John Bent. ‘Tt couldn’t have been him. It’s not likely. What should he want there? When us servants went to bed at ten, the master was in the Red Parlour. As to the young man you speak of, that he has not been anigh the house, / can answer for.” John Bent felt as if he were in the midst of a fog, through which no light could be seer? ‘‘ You say Mr. Castlemaine is,at Stilborough; ‘Miles ?” ‘He went off there soon after six. And wasn’t he cut up when he COMICcO©oks.con