The Argosy — page 284: what you’re looking at

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

The Mysteries of fleron Dyke. 265 watchings there had not ceased—before quitting the Hall for the night. The incident of the afternoon had disturbed him greatly, while Miss Winter felt thoroughly upset. His thoughts were bent upon it as he passed silently through the passages: of Katherine Keen this night he never once thought. Perambulating the still and deserted corridors, his mind utterly preoccupied, he came last of all to the gallery. He knew every nook and corner of the wing by this time, and could find his way about it in the dark almost as readily as by daylight. In one corner of the gallery was an old oak chair, and on this he now sat down, almost without being aware of what he did. Meath’s news was working in his brain, bringing him disquiet and perplexity. , He might have sat for five minutes or for twenty, he could not tell which afterwards, when the deathlike silence that brooded over the place was suddenly broken. All at once a low, sweet, wailing voice spoke through the darkness—a woman’s voice, with tears in it: “Oh! why don’t you come to me? How much longer must I walt P” ' Only those few words, and then utter silence again. Conroy started to his feet with an exclamation of surprise. He had been so immersed in his sombre meditations, he was so utterly taken unawares, that he was altogether at a loss to know from which direction the voice had come, whether from the right hand or the left, whether from above or below. He stood without moving for what seemed to him a number of minutes, hoping to hear the voice again, or the sound of footsteps, or some other token of a living presence ; but in vain he listened. He heard a far-away door clash faintly in another wing of the house, but nothing more. He was alone with the silence and the darkness. By-and-by, when convinced that his remaining there longer would be useless, he went slowly down the dark, shallow stairs which led below. It would never do to tell Ella in what manner he had been disturbed. She had enough of other troubles to occupy her thoughts at present. None the less was Edward Conroy determined to fathom the mystery of the north wing ; if it were possible for man to fathom it. (Zo be continued.) CcoOmnmicoooKks (©) an