The Argosy — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

136 Secret as the Grave. might induce her to meet his declaration with a warmth enkindled by a sense of esteem or gratitude, rather than any deeper feeling. And yet, catching at stray words, the straws perhaps of despair, a gleam of hope had passed into a belief that she cared for him more than for any other. He was soon disappointed; and in this way. For some weeks he had observed amongst his congregation a young man, apparently serious and attentive, seated next to Hannah, the maid at the Court Lodge. At this he was glad, for he knew him as James Coveney, or Coney, a wild youth from an adjoining parish, whose manner of life was questionable, and whose fierce passion had made many to fear him. In strength and stature as of Anak, with handsome features, and eyes quelling and searching, his speech was soft and persuasive, as if at variance with his stern nature. Alas! it was the tongue that drew the unwary into his net. One day he stopped Edward. ‘* Master B ,” said he, ‘‘ we want to be put up in the church.” “Exactly,” replied Edward, smiling, ‘“‘to be married. I expected as much, my friend, by seeing you both together so often. Let me see, I think your sweetheart’s name 1s Hannah ——” “No! she is my half-sister ; I don’t want her.” “Well, then, who may it be?” exclaimed Edward, amused at the mistake. “IT don’t know the name, leastways not all of it.” ‘“* Does she live in the parish ?” “Yes; you know ¢hat.” ‘What is she called 2?” 6¢ Lena.” ‘ For a moment Edward B——- felt giddy, and his breath laboured, and then a sudden chill fell on his heart, like the chilliness of the grave. Recovering his self possession, although his face was white and his hand shook, he made a note of the banns, and then hurried home. ffome / the place had changed. The carved oak griffin at the front door, the cognizance of his family, thrust out its forked tongue; and the proud peacock on the garden wall hissed defiance; and the sound of his brothers’ innocent mirth in the old rooms seem to mock him. Why was he born? Why had he lived? Surely the life beyond was less bitter; the long sleep in the darkness more sweet. And then a gentler feeling came to the rescue, freed by a torrent of tears. After all, who was to blame? She had never really shown her love! He had not betrayed his own. She was free to choose ; but had she chosen well? Ah! could he save her from harm? No! it must not be thought of. One course alone remained for him as his father’s son. He must suffer and be silent. And thus he braced himself for the dull routine of daily duty. The wound was concealed, and none suspected it. It bled inwardly, and therefore was the more dangerous. He assumed his wonted CORNICE OOO KS (E(@)