Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 299: what you’re looking at

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

290 “We have been here long enough for her to have exchanged.” I acknowledged the better wisdom of his plan. We now heard the sounds that Pedro Gapo had heard, and it was much like the return of a drunken mob. In fact Pence had discovered some native li- quor and had drunk deeply of it. The swaggering, roaring company came into the street before the temple where we stood waiting. The drunken gaze of Pence lighted upon us. His face lit up with vulgar admiration when he saw the two girls. | ‘Ho! Two more beauties to become our companions. Ho! What! Here is the one for me. I'll take the bést!” he cried coarsely. THE ARGOSY. He made a stride toward Elna, but I placed myself beside her. “Hands off, you scoundrel!” I cried. “ I’ll throttle you like a dog.” He looked—he recognized me, and his face grew purple. “You! Obhver Keyburn! God, is this a place for spirits? ” “ It is a good place for vengeance! ” I said, my rage getting the better of my judgment. I sprang at his throat to strangle him, but before my fingers could clasp his windpipe | felt a blow on the head and fell backward to the ground. I heard Elna and Lottie scream, and the voice of Huskway saying: ‘Two can play at that game. We'll make good the job this time, or know the reason why.” Great (To be continued.) BROTHER DUNSTAN AND THE CRABS. BY CAROLINE WILDER PARADISE. The strange duty that fell to the lot of the “* flower of sanctity,’? and-the remarkable obstacles encountered in the discharge of a seemingly simple task. HE, summer evening was beauti- ful, with the full moon shining on the hedgerows, but the hour was so late that all honest and God fearing folk were abed. Cottage doors were locked, and the inhabitants snored lustily. The village was as silent as the churchyard, and the only sounds to be heard by intent listening ears were the katydids in the trees, and the stealthy footsteps of Brother Dunstan, as he came down from the monastery on the full and, passing over the fields, entered the vil- lage like a ghost. What Brother Dunstan could be do- ing at this hour of the night it was dif- ficult to imagine. His frock was kilted up about him in unseemly fashion, and his head was bare, and he carried a large basket; and altogether he presented an uncom- monly worldly appearance for one who was regarded among his brethren as the very flower of sanctity. No one among them all could make so many spiritual exercises daily and nightly as he; and I doubt 1f ever before in his life he had been outside the monastery walls after sunset. Brother Dunstan had an _ honest, pure, and abstracted young face. Flis eyes were as winning as a child’s, and he had fair hair, with whose wavy locks the summer breeze took profane lib- erties as he strode along in the moon- light. His basket seemed heavy. and he shifted it from arm to arm. Once he lifted the cover cautiously and peeped in, standing discreetly in a corner of the hedge. | What could be his errand? Could one so pious be intent on adventure or GOH GOOO S CO