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

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

The Amethyst Seal. 273 buckled to the iron-work of his seat. Tulip, unconscious that any- thing out of the ordinary was happening behind her, jogged quietly on her way. Nothing happened to mar Harold Dare’s scheme. ‘They met one or two vehicles returning from Barrowcliff, and three or four belated pedestrians, but the sight of two people instead of one on the box of the mail-cart was not so unusual as to call for particular notice. Here and there they passed a farm-house, but the lights were all extinguished, and the inmates in bed long ago. And so, after what seemed to Harold a greater number of hours than they were minutes in reality, the mail cart reached the waste plot of ground on which stood the two unfinished houses. Here Harold contrived to get possession of the reins, although not without a little difficulty. John’s fingers seemed to grip them instinctively, sound asleep though he was, and even after they had been taken from him his hand still kept its shape and position as before. An admonitory tug brought Tulip to a stand. Harold listened with all his might for the sound of anything that might be approach- ing either from one direction or the other; but all was silence, the most profound. Then he turned the mare’s head towards the waste ground, and leaping down, led her round a gable of the empty houses, and so to the back of them, where noihing could be seen from the high road. ‘This done, he climbed into the cart again and turned on the light of his bull’s-eye. The mail bags were contained in a receptacle at the back of the cart, the lid of which was simply fastened with a hasp. The first bag that Harold drew out was the very one he wanted. It bore a brass label with the word “ London” on it, and its mouth was tied round with string, sealed with coarse red wax. MHarold’s sharp penknife quickly cut through the string, and then the bag was open to his hand. The correspondence between Stilwater and the outer world was, as a mile, not very voluminous, and the bag was only about one third full. Harold’s eager fingers had little difficulty in finding the par- ticular packet they were in search of, seeming to close on it instinc- tively the moment they touched it. Satisfying himself by a single glance that he had not made a mistake, he thrust the packet into his breast-pocket, blew out his lantern, hurriedly tied up the mouth of the bag, put it back amongst the other bags, shut down the lid, and leaped lightly to the ground. Then entering the empty house, Dare quickly found his own bag in the comer where he had left 1. It was a work of very little time to divest himself of his wig, moustache, opera-hat, and white muffler. Then taking his bag in one hand, he went back to the mail-cart, and leading Tulip by the head, they were all presently on the solitary high road again. The mare’s head was turned in the direction of Stilwater, the reins were replaced in John’s unconscious fingers, and VOL. XL. T ECONMCOOOKS.CO