The Argosy — page 345: what you’re looking at

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

The Master of Greylands. 325 re-placed it within the fender and come back to her, her pretty face was on the pillow again, her eyes were closing. Madame Guise—as we must continue to call her—went to bed: but not to sleep. The wind raged, the child by her side was restless, her own mind was in a chaos of horror and trouble. The words of the Prophet Isaiah in Holy Wnt might indeed have been applied to her: The whole head was sick and the whole heart faint. Towards morning she dropped into a disturbed sleep, during which a dream visited her. She thought she was alone in a strange, dark garden: gloomy trees clustered about her, ugly looking mountains rose above. She seemed to be searching for something, but she did not know for what; a great dread, or terror, lay upon her, and but for being impelled she would not have put one foot before the other in the - dark path. Suddenly, as she was pushing through the impeding trees, her husband stood before ler. She put out her hand to greet him; he did not respond to it, but remained where he had halted, a few paces off, gazing at her fixedly. It was not the husband who had parted from her in the sunny South ; a happy man full of glad anticipations, with a bright, fresh face and joyous words on his lips : but her husband with asad, stern countenance, pale, cold, and still. Her heart seemed to sink within her, and before she could ask him what was amiss she saw that he was holding his waistcoat and clothes aside with his left hand, to display a shot in the region of the heart. A most dreadful sensation of terror, far more dreadful than any she could ever know in this life, seized upon her at the sight ; she screamed aloud, and awoke. Awoke with the drops of moisture on her face, and trembling in every limb. Now, as will be clear to every practical mind, this dream must have been only the result of her own imaginative thoughts, of the fears and doubts she had been indulging before going to sleep. But she, poor distressed, lonely lady, looked upon it as a revelation. From that mo- ment she never doubted that her husband had been shot as described ; shot in the heart and killed: and that the hand that did it was Mr. Castlemaine’s. ‘I knew his spirit might be hovering about me,” she murmured, trying to still her trembling. “He has been permitted to appear to me to show me the truth—to enjoin on me the task of bringing the deed to light. By Heaven’s help I will doit. I will never quit this spot, this Greylands, until I have accomplished it. Yes, Anthony !—can you hear me, my husband ?—I vow to devote myself to the discovery; I will bring this dark wickedness into the broad glare of noonday. Country, kindred, home, friends !—I will forget them all, Anthony, in my search for you. ‘“‘ Where have they hidden him?” she resumed after a pause. ‘‘ Had Mr. Castlemaine an accomplice ?—or did he Act alone’ ‘Oh,,alone ; ECoOMmicloooks (C(O) mn y