The Argosy — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

14 The sfystery of Allan Grate. “You remember that note which we found on Allan’s dressing- table,” began Mrs. Grale. ‘It was from Edgar Vivian, you said, but you did not show it to me. I might have opened it for myself before, but I did not. Was it not to make an appointment for Allan to meet young Vivian at the Black Pool ?” ‘“'Ves—to fish. How did you get to know it ?” ‘‘ Mary Anne said so yesterday. She had heard it from somebody or other. Well, I think then, we may be at liberty to conjecture that when Alny hastened out that evening after his dinner, it was to keep that appointment. Do you think so?” ‘“T can’t say. It might have been.” ‘‘ Well now, Richard,” continued poor Mrs. Grale, trembling slightly, ‘this is what I want you not to be angry with me for—what I’m going to say now. That night; that very same night, you understand; I had a dreadful dream about the Black Pool. I was in frightful distress over somebody that was drowning in it. I seemed to feel the water upon my face; I did indeed, Richard; and my poor sister Marget was following me about everywhere. I have never had so bad a dream as that.” “ You had been eating too many good things at Lady Laura Bond’s, Mary.” “That dream of mine was not all,” continued Mrs. Grale, paying no heed to the common-place suggestion in her distress. “In that letter which I had from Marget, about the box waiting at Corra- buin, she tells me she had just the same sort of dream on the same night—and she had it also, or something like it, on other nights after- wards. I'll read you what she says; I have the letter here.” Rapidly taking the letter from her pocket, Mrs. Grale read aloud the part relating to her sister’s dream. ‘<The dreams began on a Tuesday night—it was the Twentieth of October. I seemed to be in a wild, dreary place, where there was a dreadful looking pool surrounded by dark trees, and I felt as if I were tossing up and down in icy-cold water, and I could hear you sobbing and crying. I woke up once, and I can tell you, Polly, my fright was that bad I shook the bed; after a bit, I fell asleep again and the dream came back.’ Now, Richard,” Mrs. Grale went on, after a moment’s pause, “‘ despite your unbelief in such things, you must see it’s odd that I and Marget Gibson should have had that horrible dream the same night, she up in Scotland and I here.” ‘Nothing has come of it, to you, or to her,” said Mr. Grale, com- passionately, suppressing his ndicule. Mrs. Grale was folding the letter to return it to her pocket. “There were other things mixed up in her dreams, that it’s no use writing about, Marget says. But, Richard—lI’ve been thinking—since I heard Alny went out to go to the Black Pool that same night, whether —whether ‘ COMIC OOlKS.CO