Argosy, Vol. 1 (December 9, 1882) — page 251: what you’re looking at

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

For the time being all his finer instincts were smothered and not one of this reckless crew of daredevils had less of pity in his soul. The men about him glanced occasionally at Cottrell with idle curiosity, but apparently they took no special interest in his sudden appearance. Presently the guard returned, and dismissing the others, told Cottrell to follow him. He stopped before a large doorway, and pulling to one side the curtain that obstructed it, bade him enter, dropping the curtain behind him. In striking contrast to all the other barren apartments by which Cottrell had come, the one m which he now found himself was garnished with. all the luxuriousness of a modern Spanish palace, whence its furnishings had most likely been taken by force during one of Cavara’s raids. The stone walls were hung with great tapestries and further adorned with spears and ancient coats of mail and innumerable trophies, including some fine paintings. Even the altars and shrines of the churches had felt the dese- crating hand of these redoubtable brigands, and been made to furnish their quota of rich treasure, to swell the coffers and adorn the castle of Don Cavara. In a massive armchair before the huge fireplace sat a man so engrossed in his own thoughts that he evidently had not marked the entrance of the new- comer. Cottrell knew that this must be the chief himself, the comparative splendor of the vast room, the exquisite appearance and dress of the man, all pointed to this conclusion. | Presently he leaned forward, as though come to some sudden resolution, and striking both arms of the chair with his clenched fists, he cried aloud: “ I will, I will!” and with that he sprang up and faced about. He stopped short as he perceived his visitor, and immediately all signs of emotion vanished from his face, leaving it as impenetrable as a mask. Only the cruel set of his thin lips and a disagreeable squint of his restless black eyes betrayed the nature of the man. Cottrell gave a slight start, as he recognized in his ws @ vis the impudent messenger who had delivered to him Lieutenant Rignault’s challenge. “You come from Count Rignault,” said Cavara, in his overbearing way. “Give me his message! ” and he held out an impatient hand. “ The message is verbal,” replied Cottrell, trying to speak in a servile tone. The Spaniard’s black eyebrows came down. “ There was to have been a signed document—the fulfilment of a promise, ” he said harshly. “ Just so,” replied Cottrell quickly ; “ you mean the matter of the hundred thousand francs? ”’ The brigand chief looked sharply at his companion. “The count evidently makes a confidant of his servants! Yes, you are right. It is the matter of the hundred thousand francs I allude to. What do you know about it?” “The count made me to say to you, sefior,” replied Cottrell, in a measured voice, “ that he did not dare trust to any written message, for fear of it falling into wrong hands, for the compromising nature of the communication would surely bring ruin upon him. He therefore begs of you that you will meet him GONG OOO UN ceo