The Argosy — page 323: what you’re looking at

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

298 By the Vulture’s Nest. honoured guest, and aimed at the one beside him. I much fear that my shot did not take effect, for I confess to you that I am some- what out of sorts. Do you know that a vague feeling of anxiety has come over me, and my thoughts have for some time back been with our young Frenchman. There is a terrible presentiment of evil upon me. _ I have felt it once before in my life, and then it was only too sadly fulfilled. I hardly know why, but I have actually been regretting that I allowed him to go to the Vulture’s Nest! Yet you yourself saw how pressing he was; it would really have seemed inhospitable and ungracious on my part to oppose him. However, though it is still early,” he added, as he drew out and looked at his watch, ‘‘let us set off at once for our appointed place of meeting. Some of the party are almost sure to be already there, and from them we may possibly hear also about the others.” It was,a pleasant saunter that the two gentlemen had now before them, and they further enlivened it by many a stirring tale of hunting life. Graham thought he had never enjoyed a cigar so fully as during the good hour’s walk which brought them to the trysting tree. The Count and Graham emerged from the forest on to a beauti- ful green meadow; not unlike the one upon which stood Louise’s chalet. In the midst of it rose a group of old pines, and under them were assembled several of the Count’s guests, a few of the foresters, and some also of the peasants who had taken part in the drive. ‘They were all pressing round some object in their centre, and all eyes were directed to a spot hidden from the view of Graham and his host. Suddenly someone remarked the Count’s approach, and told the others of it. One of the gentlemen thereupon left the group, and walked towards the new comers. But the expression of his coun- tenance foretold some sad tale, and his lips only too soon con- firmed it. ‘Tt is the Chevalier,” he said, ‘‘and we fear he is quite dead. No one knows how the accident happened, for he was alone upon his post. But a young girl who lives in a chalet upon the hill must have watched him, for it was she who gave the first tidings of his fall. She heard his rifle shot, she tells us, and saw some chamois flying past on the opposite side of the mountain, but when she looked over the edge of the precipice, the Chevalier had disappeared.” ‘Good heavens, how dreadful! Let us hope it is not so bad as you suppose,” exclaimed the Count, as he and Graham hastened up to the assembled group. The Count murmured some further in- audible words as he approached nearer, and then knelt down by the young, and, alas, shattered corpse. And Graham! He was deeply shocked on hearing the melancholy tidings, and the very next moment felt as though it was his own death that was being announced to the Count; as though the accident had not happened to the Chevalier but to himself. What Eomichooks: co > J i ae —