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

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

The Ghost of ** Ours.” 315 account of “our ghost,” and went back to reassure the lady. She thanked me gravely and seemed lost in meditation. When we arrived at her carriage, which was waiting at the barrack gates, she suddenly stopped and looking full at me with her beautiful erave eyes, said, “I have been wondering whether I should ask you to do me a great service. I know no one here who can help me, and I want very much to hear the whole story of your ghost from beginning to end, for a special reason which I cannot explain.” Tl] tell you all I know and find out all I can for you,” I replied with joyful readiness, wondering at my own good luck. ‘‘ But when?” “Will you come and see me some day? I am Miss Dacre, of Penderell Court, and Harry Ormsby. was my dearest friend.” I devoted myself enthusiastically to the mission and watched her drive away feeling—well—that after all there was something to be said for Vandeleur. ‘Think of a man making away with himself, while there was a creature like that in the world to live for!” I remarked to nobody in particular, and to lose no moment in fulfilling her behest, returned at once to the Smylies. Hearing through the door, how- ever, Smylie’s voice thundering forth a sort of Commination Service, including laundresses, ghosts and barrack gossip in its clauses, with piteous responses from Lally at intervals, “‘ How would I know it was she? Sure, I'll go ask her pardon to-morrow, poor creature,” I thought it discreet to withdraw. _ Had Loxdale any more to tell, I wondered. I went to him and told him frankly of my meeting with and promise to Miss Dacre. He looked at me in blank amazement. “Miss Dacre! Calling on the Smylies! Wanting to rake up all the old scandal again! I'll be shot if I can understand it.” However, he searched for and gave me a shabby little note. ‘She may have /¢haé, if she likes. It was found on his table when his servant gave the alarm, addressed to me, and another to his uncle.” I glanced over it. It was a pitiful little appeal to his only friend left to try and clear his memory when he was dead and gone. Life was too hard for him now. He was going to find a short way out of all his troubles, but he did not know how he should rest in his grave leaving a disgraced name behind him. * Don’t you think it was his use of that expression that set the whole story afloat,” I asked ; “‘and then some chance resemblance completed the mystification—some one in the town getting a rise out of you all?” “Not possible,” said Loxdale, decidedly. ‘‘ Ormsby was a singular- looking boy, with wild, light eyes and hair that he wou/d wear longer than he should have done, and Vandeleur was a man who never forgot a face. It was a strange gift he possessed. When he got his company he knew the name and number of every man in it in three days, and once sat at the barrack gate for a wager, and told the name and number of every man who went in and out in the course Gomichoo <S (E() m