The Argosy — page 100: what you’re looking at

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

In the Dead of Night. 85 shameful death eating the life out of meinch by inch. Oh, think of all and pity me!” ‘“‘T have thought of it all, day and night, night and day, for months. You know that I pity you from the bottom of my soul.” ‘‘ Had it not been for you, and Edith, and Bristow—God bless him! I should have shot myself long ago.” “Don’t talk in that way, Dick—don’t talk in that way !” ‘¢ Unless—unless I had taught myself to live for the sake of retribu- tion,” went on the other as if he had not heard his uncle’s words. ‘“‘ And retribution is not vengeance; it is simple sane Lape 8 res ts justice.” He paused like one deep in thought. “Do you know, uncle,” he resumed with a startling change of tone, ‘do you know that a night hardly ever passes without my being visited by Percy Osmond. His cold hand touches mine and I awake to see him standing close beside me. He never speaks, he only looks at me. But oh! that look—so pleading, so reproachful, so soul-imploring ! Awake and asleep it haunts me ever. It is a look that says, ‘ How much longer shall I lie in my blood-stained shroud, and justice not be done upon my murderer?’ It is a look that says, ‘ Another day gone by and nothing done—nothing discovered.’ Then he fades gradually, and Isee no more of him till next night; but my hand remains numb and cold for more than an hour after he has left me.” The General was staring at Richard as if he could hardly believe the evidence of his ears. ‘‘Come,” he said very gently, “‘let us take a turn in the garden. The air of this room is oppressive. Give me your arm, boy. This English winter finds out the weak places in an old man’s joints.” As they paced the garden arm in arm, Richard (or Lionel—for Lionel it was, as the reader will long ago have surmised) went back to the topic he had last been talking about. ‘“ Were I to tell toa phy- sician what I have just told you,” he said, “he would simply put me down as the victim of a mental hallucination; he would tell me that I was suffering from a by no means uncommon form of cerebral excite- ment. So beit. I suppose I am the victim of a mental hallucination: but call it by what name you will, to me it is a most serious and terrible reality—a visitation that no medicines, no society, no change of scene, can alter or rid me of; that one thing alone can rid me of. When I have accomplished the bitter task thatis appointed me to do, then, and then only, will this burden be lifted off my soul: then, and not till then, will Percy Osmond cease to visit me.” Again he sighed deeply. The General pressed the arm that held his a little more tightly but did not speak. The case was beyond his simple skill. He was powerless to comfort or console the bruised spirit by his side. In silence they finished their walk. | But comfort and consolation were not altogether denied to Lionel COMMICMHOOKS.EO©