The Argosy — page 113: what you’re looking at

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

96 The White Witch. : house at midnight was all in the legitimate way of his business, and justify it!” Godfrey Mayne returned to the Abbey, fuming with rage at the detective-officer’s audacity. ‘To imagine Mary Dixon, of refined nature and delicate instincts, in companionable contact with such a man was revolting. He might have been born and bred a gentle- man, but he was anything but that now. Godfrey had not yet obtained a distinct, observant view of his face, but he felt that his feelings were as destitute of honour and chivalry as his general manners were of polish ; that he was corrupt, or might be made so; and that if Mary had stood accused of all the crimes under the sun, this man’s touch on her hand would be profanation. So decided Godfrey ; and that Mary must be saved from him. He himself could not save her, but Ernest Underwood might. Judging of the young man’s feelings by his own, Godfrey supposed that he had but to whisper a word to him of Mary’s danger, not stating its nature, to induce him to make her his wife with all speed, and carry her away out of reach of the clutches of wicked and self- interested police-officers. Perhaps Ernest had not yet left the Abbey, and he could speak to him now. He dashed through the refectory, and into the drawing-room. Ernest was just gone. He was rushing out again, when Mary stepped forward and stopped him. ‘‘ Where are you going, Mr. Godfrey ?” ‘‘T want to speak to Ernest. Don’t keep me”—entreatingly. Even the clasp of her slender fingers on his sleeve could not keep him now; her safety might depend upon minutes. But she followed him into the hall, and clung to his arm. ‘Mary, let me go! I pray you to let me go. You don't know what depends on it.” He was shaking her off again, gently, but surely and resolutely. She seized his right hand with both hers, and held it against her. Her soft, beseeching eyes were shining into his in the lamplight. “Godfrey, stay with me! Say that you won't leave me!” He felt all on fire; but what could he do? ‘‘ Very well, I say it,” he answered in despairing resignation. But the words had scarcely left his lips before she dropped his hand, and stood apart from him. Godfrey would have taken her hand again. ‘‘T)on’t touch me, don’t touch me,” she whispered imploringly. “ You—you do not understand. And—I do not want you to speak to Ernest. Remember, you said you would not leave me.” “JT remember,” he replied, in a voice that sounded cold and proud. And he went to the hall door and flung it open, and stood there. He would not look at her. ‘Then he heard a fall, and, turning, saw her lying on the floor. She had fainted—no doubt Gomicbooks.com