Argosy, Vol. 1 (December 9, 1882) — page 253: what you’re looking at

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

nary motives in seizing and carrying off Marie de Villiers, hope had not feft him of her ultimate escape ; but now that he realized the appalling situation, all hope died, and 1n its place crept despair. CHAPTER XIX .—CoTrTrRELL BECOMES A FuLL FLEDGED BRIGAND. THE most demoralizing thing that can happen to a strong nature is to lose hope. Cottrell, with the instinct of an animal at bay, resolved on one last throw that would mean life or death to him, and freedom or slavery to the girl he loved. ° While Cavara had been dictating to him the insolent message he was to carry to his supposed master, Cottrell listened as though in a dream, the words sounding in his ears like the distant murmur of a brook, the one phrase only stamped on his brain—“ J intend to marry the countess!” His Yankee ingenuity was hard at work planning the details of a new scheme, that must either succeed or be his last. Cavara, who in his own mind had made an end of the business as far as Cottrell was concerned, began once more his moody pacing to and fro, while the American stood with bent head, staring at a spot on the stone floor, his throbbing brain searching out from the wild chaos of ideas and contending emotions a coherent plan of action that was to be his final coup. suddenly the Spaniard’s harsh voice broke in upon his thoughts. “What! Not gone yet, Master Messenger? Now make haste and deliver my answer to-Lieutenant Rignault, or I shall have to get a couple of my men to teach you speed with a fcw lashes! ” Not only were the words brutal, but the tone was more than self respect could stand. No wonder that the American drew himself up, his fists clenched, his eyes flashing defiance; and thus for a full minute these two fearless men stood facing each other, the one trying to choke down the outburst of passion that must ruin his plans, the other watching narrowly his adversary with a thrill of conscious domination, though he knew not at what moment he might be grappling with a powerful antagonist. The battle was ended. Cottrell had won a victory over himself. Slowly the color died out of his face; his hands dropped nervelessly by his side. But all this not before Cavara had learned the true character of the man before him. “So!” he said with a dry smile, “ you have a spirit of your own!” “Tam not accustomed to being talked to in that way,” replied Cottrell in a iow voice. “Then Count Rignault must be more considerate of his servants than | should have believed,” was the tast rejoinder. ‘“ T think, sefior, that he rather respects my temper!” said Cottrell with a prim smile. This statement was at least true. ‘“ Come, I’ll propose a bargain. I'll send one of my men as messenger, while you shall remain to enter my service. You please me. You are a man of spirit, and that is the sort of man I want about me. The more temper there is in a fellow, the more pleasure in er ” COLT A) AOO UN ceo