The Argosy — page 203: what you’re looking at

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

The Master of Greylands. 187 For the fiftieth time, at least, the lfndlord recounted the history. It was listened to with breathless interest, even by those who had done nothing but listen to it for many previous hours. ‘‘And do you expect sensible people to believe this, John Bent?” were the first answering words of the Master of Greylands. ‘It’s true, whether they believe it or not,” said John. ‘It was your- self, sir, was it not, that we saw pass into the chapel ruins?” “1!” scornfully repeated Mr. Castlemaine. ‘‘ What do you suppose should take me to such a place as that at midnight? If all your points are as Correct as that, Mr. Bent, your story will not hold much water.” “T said it was not likely to be Mr. Castlemaine,” spoke up the super- intendent of the coastguard. ‘I told Mr. Bent so at the time.” ‘JT put it to you all generally whether it was likely,” pursued Mr. Castlemaine, glancing defiantly about him. “All I can say is this,” said John: “that if it was not Mr. Castle- maine, my eyes must have strangely deceived me, and young Mr. Anthony’s must have deceived him. The night was as light as day!” *‘ Eyes do deceive sometimes,” remarked Mr. Castlemaine. ‘‘ Mine have on occasion deceived me at night, good though their sight is. And ofall deceptive light, the moon’s light is the worst.” “Sir, if it was not you it must have been your wraith,” said John Bent, evidently not inclined to give in. ‘‘ You passed close by us side- ways, coming out of the Chapel Lane, and crossed the road in front of us. Had you just turned your head sharp to the nght, you must have seen us under the hedge.” “Was it the Grey Friar, think you?” asked Mr. Castlemaine. And John Bent did not like the banter or the suppressed laugh that went around. - ‘That some one crossed from the Chapel Lane, may be true: for I do not see how you could purely imagine it,” conceded Mr. Castlemaine. ‘But it was not I. Neither can I understand or conceive what any- body should want in the chapel ruins at that time of mght. We are most of us rather given to shun the place.” ‘True, true,” murmured the room. “And the locked gate,” proceeded Mr. Castlemaine, “how do you account for that? Where did the key come from to lock it? According to what you say, John Bent, it would appear that Mr. Anthony Castle- maine must have locked it ; since you maintain that no one went in or came out subsequent to himself. If he locked it, he must have un- locked it—at least, that is the inference naturally to be drawn.” “I say that the gate never was locked,” put in Mr. Nettleby. ‘The latch might have caught at the minute, and caused Mr. Bent to fancy it was locked.” ‘You may as well tell me I don’t know when'a place is ‘open and when it’s shut,” retorted John Bent. COMIC OOOKS. EO