The Argosy — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

16 In the Dead of Night. He hada very good-natured smile, which showed off to advantage a very white and even set of teeth. His hands and feet were small, and he was rather inclined to be proud of them. His dress, while studiously plain in appearance, was made of the best materials, and owed its origin to one of the most famous of London tailors. “ Dering,” sad Tom suddenly—they had been sitting for full five minutes without a word—“ it is five weeks to-day since you saved my life.” «‘ What a memory you have !” “Seeing that one’s life is not saved every day, I may be excused for remembering the fact, unimportant though it may seem to others. Itis five weeks to-day since I was brought to Gatehouse Farm, and during all. that time you have never asked me a question about myself or my ante- cedents. You don’t even know whether you have been entertaining a soldier, a sailor, a tinker, a tailor, a what’s-his-name, or a thief.” “T didn’t wait to ask myself any question of that kind when I went down the ch in search of you, and I don’t see why I need trouble myself now.’ ‘Asa matter of simple justice both to yourself and me, thé mys- terious stranger will now throw off his mystery, and appear in the commonplace garb of real life.” “JT wouldn’t bother if I were you,” said Lionel. ‘Your object just now is to get thoroughly well. Never mind anything else.” ‘‘There’s no time like the time present. I’m ashamed of myself for not having spoken to you before.” ‘If that’s the matter with you, I know you must have your say. Proceed, worthy young man, with your narrative, and get it over as quickly as possible.” “JT was born at alittle town in the midland counties,” began Tom. ‘‘ My father was chief medical practitioner in the place, and attended all the swells of the neighbourhood. His intention from the first was to bring me up to the law; so, as soon as I was old enough, he had me articled to old Finabeysa his bosom friend, and the chief solicitor in the little town. I didn’t like the law—1in fact, I hated it; but there seemed no better prospect for me at that time, so I submitted to my fate without a murmur. My father died when I was seventeen, leaving me > a fortune of six thousand pounds. I stayed quietly on with Hoskyns till I was twenty-one. ‘The day I was of age, the old gentleman called me into his private room, congratulated me on having attained my majority, and asked me in what way I intended to invest my six thou- sand pounds. ‘I am not going to invest it: I am going to speculate with it,’ was my answer. The old lawyer looked at me as if I were a madman. ‘Going to speculate in what?’ he asked faintly. ‘ Going to speculate on the Stock Exchange,’ was my reply. Well, the old gentleman raved and stormed, and talked to me as though I were Eomicbooks.co m