The Argosy — page 336: what you’re looking at

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

_ In the Mist. 319 Hastily signing to Tremaine to place himself so that Winnie’ S figure was hidden, I advanced towards the intruders, who seemed not a little astonished at my presence. “What does this mean?” I enquired, looking from one to the other. “Tt means, Mr. Glynn, that these men have a warrant for the arrest of Noel Tremaine,” young Borlace answered. ‘‘ We tracked him here, and ——” “May I ask of what I am accused?” Noel interrupted, with a coolness which seemed to take them all by surprise. Before the other could reply, Michael Carlyon stepped forward. He was a tall, stately old man, with silver hair, and a handsome weather-beaten face, pale and haggard just now. “Noel,” he began, in an agitated voice, ‘‘ they tell me that—that you killed my darling in a fit of jealousy—” (there was a smothered exclamation from the background, which passed unnoticed)—“ but now I look you in the faceI can’t believe it. It was an accident ; you did not—you could not have intended to ——” ‘“ Heaven knows I did not, Mr. Carlyon,” the young man answered earnestly ; ‘‘ but I don’t ask you to take my word for it. Here isa witness who will speak for me.’ He stepped back, and ‘showed—Winnifred, who rose hastily to her feet, and quickly sought the shelter of her grandfather’s arms. I shall not attempt to describe the scene which followed; old Carlyon’s joy, Walter Borlace’s amazement, and the bewilderment of the two police-constables, who suddenly found themselves de trop. When the first excitement had subsided, Winnie, after describing how the accident occurred, repeated what has already been told— often interrupted by the questions and exclamations of her hearers. When she had concluded, she turned to Walter Borlace. ‘Was it you, Walter, who first suggested that monstrous accusa: tion ?” she asked, in a tone which brought the blood to his cheek. He hung his head, muttering something inaudible. After a moment’s struggle with himself, however, he turned to his rival. ‘Tremaine, I don’t know whether you can ever forgive me,” he began, awkwardly enough, but with evident sincerity. ‘‘ I feel heartily ashamed of my unjust suspicion, and ——” | “Let us shake hands and say no more about it,” Noel interrupted, suiting the action to the word. “Even if I were disposed to resent it, my heart is too full of thankfulness just now to have room for any other feeling.” ‘Well spoken,” said the old shipowner heartily; ‘‘ you can afford to be generous, my boy. And now,” he added, “‘the sooner we get home the better for this young lady, who is looking like a little ghost.” “You must please to consider the Vicarage your home, for to-night at least,” I put in. GOnlGaooks (CO)