The Argosy — page 379: what you’re looking at

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

360 Verena Fontaine's Rebellion. now that both Ferrar and Saxby were mistaken ; that it was somebody else they saw, who bore, one must imagine, some general resemblance to her.” ‘Well, I think you might have known better,” cried the Squire. “Ves, I suppose I ought to. But, before the inquest had termi- nated, I chanced to be alone with Verena; and her manner —nay, her words, two or three she said—-seemed to imply her guilt, and also a consciousness that I must be aware of it. I had no doubt at all from that hour.” ‘And is it for that reason, consideration for her, that you have partially allowed suspicion to rest upon yourself ?” pursued the Squire, hotly. ‘Of course. How could I be the means of throwing it upon a defenceless girl ?” ‘‘ Well, John Tanerton, you are a chivalrous goose!” <‘ Verena must have known the truth all along.” ‘¢ That’s not probable,” contended the Squire. ‘‘ And Chandler ‘wants to know what is to be done.” ‘‘ Nothing at all, that Ican see,” answered Jack. ‘‘Sir Dace is not in a condition to have trouble thrown upon him.” Good Jack! generous Jack! There are not many such self denying spirits in the world. And what would have been done is beyond guessing, had Sir Dace not solved the difficulty himself. Solved it by dying. But I must first tell of a little matter that happened. Although we had heard what we had, one could not treat the man cavalierly, and the Squire—just as good at heart as Jack—went up to make enquiries at Oxlip Grange, as usual. One day he and Colonel Letsom strolled up together, and were asked to walk in. Sir Dace wished to see them. ‘‘ Tf ever you saw a living skeleton, it’s what he is,’ cried the Squire to us when he came home. ‘‘It is in the nature of the disease, I believe, that he should be. Dress him up in his shroud, and you'd take him for nothing but bones.” Sir Dace was in the easy-chair by his bed-room fire, Coralie sitting with him. By his side stood a round table with papers and letters upon It. ‘“T am glad you have chanced to call,” he said to them, as he sent Coralie away. ‘‘I wanted my signature witnessed by someone in influential authority. You are both county magistrates.” ‘The signature to your will,” cried the Squire, falling to that con- clusion. “Not my will,” answered Sir Dace. ‘‘ That is settled.” He turned to the table, his long, emaciated, trembling fingers singling out a document that lay upon it. ‘This is a declaration,” he said, ‘‘ which I have written out myself, being of sound mind, you perceive, and which I wish to sign in your presence. I testify that COMIC OOO KS sey ag)