Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 216: what you’re looking at

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

AN AFRICAN SECRET. ' “They regret your long absence. Many of them believe that you are dead.” “Let them believe it!” exclaimed the old man, with a startling access of energy. “Irene never would believe it,” said Bradshaw, quietly. “Ah! Irene!” and the harsh. voice was again subdued; “ what of her? Is she well?” ‘She was when I left America, months ago. She longs to see her father.” The tropical darkness had gathered so quickly that now it was almost im- possible for the men to sce each other’s faces clearly. Murdock no longer made an effort to do so. He looked toward the ground, and often his voice suggested that of a man mumbling in his sleep. “She is a woman grown by now,” said he; “she gave promise of great beauty.” “Trene is most beautiful,” respond- ed Bradshaw, with an effort to speak calmly that would have been only too plain to an ordinary observer. Murdock apparently failed to ob- serve his emotion, for he went on al- most mechanically : “Has she married? ”’ Bradshaw drew a deep breath and held it with lips hard pressed for a mo- ment before he replied. “ She has not, Mr. Murdock. Irene is too anxious about the fate of her father. She longs to have his consent and blessing.” “To her marriage? ” “Yes.” “Why is she not content with her mother’s assent? Does her mother oppose her? ” “Mr. Murdock, your wife died four years ago.” The old mgn continued to gaze at the ground. Not the slightest movement indicated that the information aroused emotion of any kind. “She died,” Bradshaw continued, 207 after a pause, “ with your name on her lips. For a long time she had been failing. Nothing was the matter, so far as medical science could say. She simply faded gradually, and when she had passed on, the physicians agreed with the general opinion that her heart was broken by your disappearance from her life.” still Murdock stood motionless and another pause ensued. “It is better so,” he muttered at last. “Irene is young. She is there- fore happy, or will be so.”’ “Trene will be most happy if you come home with me,” said Bradshaw. ‘Why is she so insistent? I do not understand ” “Why should a daughter long to see her father?” interrupted Bradshaw, with some vehemence; “think .of it, Mr. Murdock! She is alone in the world. She loved you as a child, she loves you now that she is a woman. Would it not be strange if she didn’t want to see you?” ‘““T did not mean that,” Murdock re- plied rather hastily ; “ all this comes on me so suddenly and unexpectedly that perhaps I am confused. How comes it that she has not believed the reports of my death? I suppose such reports have been current. And how comes it that she sends you on the almost hope- less search for me here in Africa? ” “IT am anxious to tell you that. I love your daughter, Mr. Murdock. 1 have been in love with her ever since I can remember.” Bradshaw hesitated from the embar- rassment that all honest men feel in discussing the deepest secrets of their hearts, but Murdock gave neither word nor sign to assist him. So, after a mo- ment, he went on: ‘“T think there never has been any more question about Irene’s affection than about mine. I asked her to be my wife a long time ago. She made me the happiest man in America by con- senting, but there was no thought on either part of a speedy martiage. Ff CO