The Argosy — page 170: what you’re looking at

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

The Last Elm of the Avenue. 155 “There, by that stone, on that night, stood Fergus MacLeish. I saw him as clearly as I see you now. He held out his hand, and said, ‘Welcome! we are waiting for you, Caolchairn.’ His face was clear in the moonlight. It was the face of a dead man.” “T don’t believe a word of it,” I said energetically, to assure myself I was not frightened. “Do as you please,” said MacLeish coldly. “Tt was evident,” I reasoned, taking counsel with myself, “ that poor MaclLeish’s brain had become diseased ; living all his life ina bogie-ridden Highland stronghold, in an atmosphere of Gaelic super- stition. He would be better without Alistor hovering about him and ministering to his fancies, and I must do my best drag him into society. He certainly hates the sight of his fellow-creatures as much as any man I know.” Accordingly, next day, instead of our usual secluded seat on the shingle, by a deserted Martello tower, I sug- gested that we should take our books to the Parade, studying in public being a Cinghaven fashion. “‘'Where’s the Parade? I’ve never seen it yet,” he vbchdeledlt I marched him eastwards forthwith. It was half-past twelve on a bright autumn morning, the sun was shining, the sea dancing, bevies of pretty children frolicking on the shingle, and three of the prettiest girls in Cinghaven taking a brisk turn after bathing. The very prettiest bowed to me, and looked as if we mzght come and talk to her if we liked; but all that MacLeish said was: ‘‘It wasa bad place for working, and that he wanted to go to the town and buy some red ink!” “This way,” I said. ‘‘ You don’t mean to say you’ve not been down the Lady’s Avenue ?” We turned through a gate into the cool shade of some pollard elms that made a bowery walk across some low-lying meadows to the town. ‘Some dead-and-gone county lady—bless her considerate soul— planted this grove and bequeathed it to the town. It’s the prettiest thing in Cinghaven.” “The town doesn’t seem to appreciate it,” said MacLeish. “It has been let go to the bad. ‘These trees want thinning and some young ones planting in those gaps ———” “The Mayor and Corporation ave awaking to asense of their duties, I see,” I said presently. ‘‘ They are actually breaking up the ground and getting fresh earth in. I suppose it’s twenty years since it was last done—and it will be twenty more before it’s done again.” MacLeish did not answer ; he seized my arm suddenly and pointed with outstretched finger to the last elm of the avenue. “There!” he gasped; ‘‘ he is there agaznz /” I saw nothing but two wheelbarrows, a plank, and two spades sticking upright in the newly-broken earth. “Hold up!” Isaid. ‘‘ Don’t faint Zeve, for Heaven’s sake!” and COMMICOOOKS.c©