The Argosy — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

Court Netherlegh. 103° ‘Not in the same way, sir; not as to /zmself,” returned the man in agitation. ‘‘ Mr. Oscar, how could you think it ?” ‘Nay, Reuben, / think it! Your words alone led to the thought.” ‘T meant as to his money, sir. He has fallen into a bad gambling set, just as Mr. Claude fell. One of them is the very same man: Colonel Haughton. He ruined Mr. Claude, and he ts ruining Mr. Robert. He was Captain Haughton then; he is a colonel now, but he has sold out of the army long ago. He lives by gambling. I have told Mr. Robert so, but he does not believe me.” ‘‘'That’s where he is gone to-night.” “Where he goes every night, Mr. Oscar. Haughton and those men have lured him into their toils, and he can’t escape them. He has not the moral courage; and he has the mania for play upon him. He comes home towards morning, flushed and haggard, sometimes in drink—yes, sir; drinking and gaming mostly go together. He ap- peared laughing and careless before you, but it was all put on.” ‘ Have you warned him—or tried to stop him P? ” Ves, sir, once or twice; but it does no good. I don’t like to say too much: he might not take it from me. ‘Those harpies won’t let him rest ; they come hunting after him, just as they hunted his uncle a score, or more, years-ago. Nobody ever had a better heart than Mr. Robert; but he is pliable, and gets led away.” Oscar frowned. He thought Robert had no business to be “led away,” and he felt little tolerance for him. Reuben had told all he knew, and Oscar wished him good night and departed, full of pain- ful thought touching Robert. The night passed. In the morning Oscar went to South Audley Street to breakfast. Robert was looking ill and anxious. Been making a night of it?” said Oscar, lightly. ‘‘ You look as though you had.” “Yes, I was late. Pour out the coffee, will you, Oscar? ” His own hands were shaking. Oscar saw it as Robert opened his letters. One of them bore the Netherleigh post mark, and was from Farmer Lee. Oscar hardly knew how to open the ball, or what to say for the best. ‘‘1’m sure something is disturbing you, Robert. You have had no sleep ; that’s easy to be seen. What pursuit can you have, that it should keep you up all night ?” ‘One is never at a loss to kill time in London.” ‘¢T suppose not, if it has to be killed. But I did not know it was necessary to kill that which ought to be spent in sleep. One would think you passed your nights at the gaming-table, Robert.” The words startled him, and a flush rose to his pallid features. Oscar was gazing at him steadily. *‘ Robert, you look conscious. Have you learnt to gamble ?” ‘Oh, it’s nothing,” said Robert, confusedly. ‘‘I may play a little now and then.” COMICOOO© SS} (CO)