The Argosy — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

The Master of Greylanas. 27 no question, I should think, that the rightful heir was the eldest son, Basll.’ ‘‘ And it was known, too, that Basil was his father’s favourite; and that the old man during his last years was always looking and longing for him to come back,” spoke John Bent, warming with the subject. **Qn the other hand, sir, James was close at hand, and the old man could leave it to him if he pleased.” “One glance at the will would set all doubt at rest.” “‘Ay. But it was not known, sir, whether there was a will.” * Not known ?” “No, sir. Some said the will left all to Mr. James; others said there was no will at all, but that old Anthony Castlemaine made him a deed of gift of Greylands’ Rest. And a great many said, and still say, that old Mr. Castlemaine only gave him over the estate 77 érus¢ for Mr. Basil—or for any sons Mr. Basil might leave after him.” The stranger sat in silence. On his little finger shone a diamond ring, evidently of value ; he twirled it about unconsciously. “ What is your opinion, Mr. Bent?” he suddenly asked. “Mine, sir? Well, I can’t help thinking that the whole was left in trust for Mr. Basil, and that if he’s alive the place is no more Mr. James’s than it is mine. I think it particularly for this reason—that if it was given to Mr. James, whether by will or by deed of gift, he would have taken care to show abroad the will, or the deed, that gave it him, and so set the rumours at rest for good. So that ” ‘Now then, John Bent! It’s about time you began to lay the cloth and see to the silver.” No need to say from whom the interruption came. Mrs. Bent, her face flushed to the colour of the cherry ribbons, whisked in and whisked out again. John followed ; and set about his cloth-laying. The stranger sat where he was, in a reverie, until] called to dinner. John Bent waited on his guest, who dined to his complete satisfac- tion. He was about to leave the wine on the table after dinner, but the guest motioned it away. ‘‘No, no more; I do not drink after dinner. It is not our custom in France.” ‘Oh, very well, sir. Il cork it up for to-morrow. I—I beg your pardon,” resumed the landlord, as he drew the cloth from the table, ‘‘ what name shall I put down to you, sir?” The stranger rose and stood on the hearth-rug, speaking distinctly when he gave his name. Nevertheless John Bent seemed not to hear it, for he stared like one in a dream. “What?” he gasped, in a startled tone of terror, as he staggered back against the side-board. ‘“ What name did you.say, sin?” * Anthony Castlemaine.” ( Zo be continued.) ECOMicoOOKS.CoOm