The Argosy — page 317: what you’re looking at

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

292 By the Vulture’s Nest. Graham laughed at the girl’s earnestness. ‘‘Iam glad you told me all this,” he said, ‘‘ but I shall take better care of myself, you may be sure. The spot is not dangerous in itself; it was only that poor youth’s imprudence that madeitso. Besides, your dream has already come to pass—so now, all danger is over.” ‘‘No, no,” vehemently cried the girl—‘‘I have not told you all. Last night I was visited by the same dream again, and the hunter who disappeared in the precipice was not a peasant this time. Now that I see you, I could almost imagine it was yourself.” At this moment a mountain cry was heard in the distance, and shortly after the guide reappeared, emerging from the forest, but without M. le Chevalier. He explained that the Frenchman had declared he would return home by another road, and had sent him back to the chalet, in case Douglas Graham should wish to visit the spot of his intended exploits on the morrow. Before Graham could answer the guide’s question another man appeared upon the scene, and was warmly welcomed by the girl— Jockl, of whom she had twice spoken to Graham. She took his arm, and drew him aside, and whispered a few words to him, to which he replied by as many nods. He was a fine young fellow, a head taller than the girl who was clinging to him, and Graham could not look at him without a momentary pang, as of jealousy—foolish as he knew the feeling to be. The sun was slowly setting, as Graham, with his two companions, commenced their homeward walk. For a while they walked on in silence, and Graham enjoyed the perfume of the delicious air on those heights, and watched the varying light on the mountain- chains that rose all around between the valley and the bright evening sky. Suddenly Jockl cleared his throat, and said, ‘‘ Louise, I sup- pose, has been telling you a good deal about dreams and supersti- tions, and such things. She was very wrong to do so, but she was right in advising you not to accept the post by the Vulture’s Nest.” Graham looked at the young peasant with a cold glance. Jockl understood the glance, and said : ‘“T know exactly how much you can do. I can see that at once, when I look at your legs and arms, and mark your resolute eye. But have you ever hunted the chamois before ?” ** No, never.” ‘Does the Count know that ?” ‘‘T am not sure that he does.” ‘Depend upon it, then, he does not,” said Jockl, “for he would never send you to the Vulture’s Nest if he did. But once the game appears, if you have never seen a chamois before, your very senses will leave you. ‘Twenty chances to one you will make a step forward, and, if so, inevitably fall into the precipice. When you have shot a dozen chamois you may go to the place and try it; but not till then.’ Gomicbooks €o ~—