The Argosy — page 116: what you’re looking at

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

The White Witch. cg out, sir, and Mr. Cattermole was walking towards them with a limp in his gait.” Godfrey felt boiling over with rage. They must have planned to meet him—and come out for the purpose! What could he do against this underhand conspiracy? Was Mrs. Mayne in league with the man to sacrifice her daughter? As soon as he got indoors, he sat down to write a hurried letter to Ernest. Mrs. Mayne was keeping her room again; and gave never a hint to her unsuspicious husband that she had been down stairs. “ DreAR ERNEST,—I hope you won’t think I am taking a great liberty in interfering in your affairs. I remember we scowled at each other like stage-villains on Thursday night, but it was before I knew she cared about you ; now I know she does, nobody will congratulate you more sincerely. I will prove you this. I have found out by accident the danger she is in ; she tells me that you know more than I do ; I therefore conclude you are gone to town to make preparations to save her fromit. But I know more of it than she is aware of, and I want to tell you that it is drawing very near, so that there is no time to lose, and the sooner you get her away from this place, the better. If it is any question of funds—the most lucky of us are short at times—lI can help you, for I chance to have a few hundred pounds of my own lying idle at Coutts’s, and I know, old friend, you will not scruple to make use of them in this emergency. One line from you, and you shall receive my cheque by return. I have not heard anything of your plans and hers, but I suppose you will be married by special licence upon her arrival in town, and then go off to some place of safety. It would save time if I brought her up to you, while you make your preparations and get the licence ready. I swear that she should come to you safe from her enemies, if I had to cut my way through a troop of dragoons. You need not be jealous of me, for I don’t think she would say ‘ Thank you’ to me if I jumped into the sea for her, unless it were to pull you out.— Yours very sincerely, ** GODFREY MAyYNE,” The writing of this letter caused Godfrey to be late at the luncheon table. Mary enquired what he had been doing. “Writing to Ernest Underwood,” he said ; and he saw her cheeks flush at the answer. Mr. Mayne always attended church in the afternoon: Godfrey but rarely ; for at the afternoon service Mary always sat at the other end of the church among the school-children, whose former prejudice against her had totally, as already mentioned, given way; not so much under the influence of her personal character, as of toffee and a nasty but popular black sweetmeat made of liquorice and other things and sold in sticks. But on this afternoon Godfrey resolved to go. He saw her go up to her room to dress, and he went through the refectory into the garden and gathered her a sprig of Gomichboo (E(©) m