The Argosy — page 301: what you’re looking at

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

276 MICHAEL’S MISTAKE. By THE AUTHOR oF ‘ Aponals, Q.C.,” *‘ YVONNE,” ETc. INTRODUCTORY. A SHOP in one of the busiest thoroughfares of London; an old, time-honoured shop. Look at its muddy windows—one, two, three; glance up at the weather-beaten sign. ‘Then bring your eyes down to the windows again; this time not to look at them, but through them. What do you see? Bags, whips, dressing-cases, bridles and snaffles—is it not so? Over here the wooden effigy of a horse, harness complete; over there again straps and cleaning cloths by the score. Now bend your head low down; and hard by, a little to the right, what do you see? Lying side by side there—+hree great, sturdy portmanteaus. Come away from the window, and stand beside the door, in this niche where no one will notice you. Stand here, as if in a dream, letting all the whirling hansoms, the rickety four-wheelers, the rambling drays, the pitter patter of all the busy and the idle feet go by. Just stand here, and watch. You have a vision of an old, tall, stooping man in clerical dress, grey-haired, and with a proud, meek face—if one may use such an apparent contradiction. You see the girl on his right, dark and brilliant, and upright as an arrow, having his face with all its pride and none of its meekness; and on his left you see a pale, golden- haired, sweet-featured maiden. Let them pass and open the door. Squeeze in after them—and listen. The old man speaks; you notice that his voice is clear and bell- like. ‘‘T want a portmanteau,” he says ; “‘something small, and portable, and “ Oh, grandpapa He looks from one girl to the other. ‘Ts that not it?” “No, no! A large, strong, useful portmanteau.” “And an uncommon; different from anyone else’s, if possible,” the fair girl adds softly. The shopman makes a dive into the window, and brings out one of the three portmanteaus that you were looking at. “This here ought to suit,” he says. ‘‘ Look at the brass bands on the ends, and look at the lock—which is a patent. You might travel all over the world with this, and never meet with the like of it.” Well, it ends in the buying of the portmanteau, and the disappear- ance of the old man and his granddaughters out into the surging 1” Gomicbooks (E(©)