The Argosy — page 298: what you’re looking at

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

280 A Great Mystery. see, right among it,”—pointing to the Queen of Hearts. ‘I don’t hike the look of it. And there’s money mixed up in the sorrow " A low, shuddering cry. I happened to be looking from the window at the moment, and turned to see Janet Carey with hands uplifted and a face of imploring terror. The cry came from her. “Oh don’t, don’t ! don’t tell any more!” she implored. ‘‘ I—was— not—guilty.” Down went her voice by little and little, down fel] her hands ; and down dropped she on the chair behind her. The next moment she was crying and sobbing. We stood round like so many helpless simpletons, quite put down by this unexpected interlude. Old Dame Ness stared, slowly shuffling the cards from hand to hand, and could not make it out. ‘¢ Here, I'll have my fortune told next, Mother Ness,” said Bill Whit- ney, really out of good nature to the girl, that she might be left unob- served to recover herself. ‘ Mind you promise me a good one.” ‘“ And so I will then, young gentleman, if the cards ’ll let me,” was the hearty answer. ‘‘ Please then to shuffle ’em well, sir, and then cut ‘em into three.” Bill was shuffling with all his might when we heard the front door open, and Cattledon’s voice in the hall. ‘“‘ Oh, by George, I say, what's. to be done?” cried he. . “She'll be fit to choke us. That old parson can’t have given them a sermon.” Fortunately she stayed on the door-mat to take off her clogs. Dame Ness was scuffled down the kitchen stairs, and Bill hid the cards away in his pocket. And until then it had not occurred to us that it might not be quite the nght thing to go in for fortune-telling on Good Friday. On Easter Tuesday William Whitney and Tod went off to Whitney Hall for a few days: Sir John wrote for them. In the afternoon Miss Deveen took Helen in the carriage to make calls; and the rest of us went to the Colosseum, in the Regent’s Park. Cattledon rather fought against the expedition, but Miss Deveen did not listen to her. None of us—except herself—had seen it before: and I know that J, for one, was delighted with it. The last performance was over: if I remember aright, at this distance of time, it was the representation of the falling of an avalanche ona Swiss village, to bury it for ever in the snow; and we saw the little lighted church to which the terrified inhabitants were flying for succour, and heard the tinkling of its alarm bell. As we pushed out with the crowd, a policeman appeared in our way, facing us, a tall, big fierce-looking man; not to impede the advance, but to direct its movements. Janet Carey seized hold of my arm, and I turned to look at her. She stood something like a block of stone ; her-face.whitée with ECORNICLOOO SS (C(O) in —_)