The Argosy — page 125: what you’re looking at

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

ILO A Mystery. no time. It slackened speed slightly as it drew close to the hedge on that side, to give us room to pass. In a moment we saw it was St. George’s gig, St. George driving. ‘“Halloa !” called out Tod as we shot by, and his shout was loud enough to frighten the ghost at the gap, which lively spot we were fast approaching, ‘“‘there’s William Brook! Father, pull up: there’s William Brook !” Brook was sitting with St. George. His coat was well buttoned up, | a white woollen comforter folded round his neck and chin, and a low- crowned, wide-brimmed hat pulled down over his brows. I confess that but for Tod’s shout I should not have recognised him—muffled up like that. Anxious to get home, out of the storm, the Squire paid no heed to Tod’s injunction of pulling up. He just turned his head for a moment towards the gig, but drove on at the same speed as before. All we could do was to call out every welcome we could think of to William Brook as we looked back, and to pull off our hats.and wave them frantically. William Brook pulled off his, and waved it to us in return. JZ saz him do tt. He called out something also, no doubt a greeting. At least, I thought he did; but the wind swept by with a gust at the moment, and it might have been St. George’s voice and not his. ‘Johnny, lad, it’s better than nuts,” cried Tod to me, all excite- ment for once, as he fixed his hat on his head again. ‘‘ How glad I am !—for Nelly’s sake. But what on earth brings the pair of them— he and St. George—in Dip Lane?” Another minute or so, and we reached the gap in the hedge. I turned my eyes to it and to the pond beyond it in a kind of fascination ; I was sure to do so whenever I went by, but that was seldom ; and the conversation at the dessert-table had opened the wretched details afresh. Almost immediately afterwards, the gig wheels behind us, which I could hear above the noise of the wind, seemed to me to come to a sudden standstill. ‘St. George has stopped,” I exclaimed to Tod. ‘Not a bit of it,” answered he; “we can no longer hear him.” Nearly close upon that, we passed the turning which led out of the lane towards Evesham. Not heeding anything of all this, as indeed why should he, the Squire dashed straight onwards, and in time we gained our homestead, Crabb Cot. The first thing the Squire did, when we were all gathered round the welcome fire, blazing and crackling with wood and coal, and the stormy blasts beat on the window panes but no longer upon us, was to attack us for making that noise in Dip Lane, and for shouting out that it was Brook. ‘‘T+t was Brook, father,” said Tod. ‘St. George was driving him.” ‘¢ Nonsense, Joe,” reprimanded the Squire. ‘‘ William Brook has not landed from the high seas yet. And, if he had landed, what should bring him in Dip Lane—or St. George either ?” -, - - = ; a tae @ — ee ao es - = : pe CONNIE NCO KS