The Argosy — page 336: what you’re looking at

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

322 A Secret of the Sea. good Wardour-street imitations of the genuine article: On one side of the hearth, however, stood a capacious, modern easy-chair, for the special delectation of Mr. Peter Byrne, while in neighbourly proximity to it was the long-stemmed pipe with the china bowl. On the opposite side of the hearth stood another article, that seemed more out of keeping with the rest of the room even than the easy-chair. It was a couch or lounge of the most modern fashion, and upholstered witha gay flowery chintz. There could be no doubt as to the person for whose behoof this gay piece of furniture was intended. Stretched on the floor in front of it, and doing duty as a rug, was a magnificent tiger-skin. On this stood an embroidered footstool. At the back of the couch was a screen painted with Chinese figures and landscapes. Near it hung a itar. Gerald advanced slowly into the room, and for a moment or two he totally failed to recognize the man who rose out of the easy-chair to greet him. It was Byrne: and yet it was not Byrne. “It must be his father, or an older brother,” said Gerald to himself. Even when the man held out his hand and whispered: “Is there anybody outside the door?” he was still in doubt. “There is no one outside the door,” said Gerald. ‘I came up the stairs alone.” “That’s all right, then, and I’m very glad to see you, Mr. Warbur- ton,” said Byrne’s familiar voice, after which there could no longer be any doubt. ‘‘ Not a bad make-up, eh?” he added, with a chuckle, as he noted Gerald’s puzzled look. ‘“‘T certainly did not know you at first,” replied the latter. ‘In fact, I took you for your own father.” ‘You could not pay me a higher compliment, sir,” said Byrne, with a gleeful rubbing of the hands. “It is part of the scheme I have in view, that Van Duren should take me to be an old man, very feeble, very infirm, and nearly, if not quite, on my last legs.” ‘¢-You look at the very least twenty years older than when I last saw you,” remarked Gerald. “And yet the transformation is a very simple matter,” said Byme. ‘Tt would not do to tell everybody how it’s done, but from you I can have no secrets of that kind. In the first place, I had my own hair cropped as closely as it was possible for scissors to doit. Then I had this venerable wig made with its straggling silvery locks, and this black velvet skull-cap. Two-thirds of my teeth being artificial ones, I have dispensed with that portion of them for the time being, and that of itself is sufficient to entirely alter the character of the lower part of my ' face. Then this dress—this gaberdine-like coat down to my knees, my collar of an antique fashion, my white, unstarched neck-cloth, fastened with a little pearl brooch, this slight stoop between my shoulders, my enfeebled walk, and the stick that I am now obliged to use to help me COMIC MOOOlKS.,.CO