Argosy, Vol. 1 (December 9, 1882) — page 135: what you’re looking at

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

128 THE ARGOSY, consent. That aspect of the affair had been blotted out in their intense and complex emotions, and never occurred to them at all. To stifle his thoughts, Daunt drew the paper toward him, took a fountain pen from his pocket, and scrawled a big unsteady “ Mordaunt Ramsey, Jr.” over the page. Then he pushed it over to Chris, who folded it and cast it on the coals. A light flame flickered up and died away, and then Daunt spoke. “I will go then,” he said, rising, “ since what I came for is done. I am glad you saw my point of view.” He moved toward the door. Chris followed and laid his hand on the knob. Then Chris put out his hand. “TI have injured you,” he said hoarsely; “ how much I never realized, but I am going to pay up. Tomorrow, when I am dead, you will remember? And won’t you shake hands? ”* “TI cannot,” said Daunt, in his immovable voice. “ Good by!” He opened the door and went out, closing it behind him. Alone, Chris regained his ne.ve and went on very calmly with his prepara- tions. His resolution was taken and his mind made up. The torture of his late awakened remorse, falling an the new wound of his grief, was more ‘han he could live under. He had prided himself on being an unemotional man, cynical and passionless ; now a new set of thoughts, vig- orous, poignant, unbearable, ruled his mind. An active despair laid hold of him, a despair that was like physical agony, a mental neuralgia, and he longed for death so as to be rid of it. Alter writing a letter, he unlocked an inner drawer of his desk and took his revolver from it. He examined the cartridges carefully and polished the barrel with his handkerchief. _ As he did so, a new thought struck him. When he was found dead the next morning what might not happen to Daunt, who had been the last to leave the house, who had such well known reasons for hating him? He got pen and ink, and after some thought wrote this sentence in his - firm handwriting: “ I hereby state that I have taken my own life,” and signed it. He put the piece of paper ina conspicuous place, then taking up the pis- tol, looked long around the room. It was very cheerful and comfortable. His eyes lingered over the many objects—photographs, hers among them, books, the dull, red fire, the laden mantelpiece. Gradually, as he looked, he whitened to the lips. “It’s harder than I thought,” he murmured, “ to leave all this, to go——” he pulled himself together. “I won’t do it here,” he said aloud defiantly. ‘“ They shan’t find me on that hearth rung—no—in my bedroon,, it’s dark and quiet there.” The door of his room was especially fitted, heavy and air tight. He opened it, and taking his revolver stepped out into the hall. a x x * * * * When Daunt Ramsey heard that heavy library door shut after him his mind was in such a tangle of excited thoughts that he half staggered down the staircase. ‘There was stich a tense strain in his brain that he hardly knew where he was going. GOH GoOOO ‘SS COLNT