The Argosy — page 189: what you’re looking at

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

L72 The Mystery of Allan Grale. As Allan wished her good-bye, and left the cottage by the front door, she whisked out at the back one. By standing on a bench in a nook of the garden, she commanded full view of the road and of Allan. ‘He is not going home,” she muttered to herself. ‘‘He is going the other way. He has something in that basket, and I wonder what it is. Not cuttings for somebody else, or he’d have said so. Now what is it that he’s after? Id hke to know. But well—there —young gentlemen will be young gentlemen, and he was my own darling nursling. Bless him!” As Allan was pursuing his way towards Dering Court, he saw Edgar Vivian hastening on, far ahead of him. Edgar was on his return from despatching the telegram to George, recalling him to the Court. He hurried after him as fast as possible, and gained on him at last, especially when Edgar paused at the Lodge to inquire if anything had been seen of young Mr. Grale. Edgar had not gone many yards up the avenue before he heard the clang of the gate, and turning, saw that the eagerly expected visitor had arrived. He stood still; Allan came on swiftly; and they turned aside from the path, where their interview might be interrupted, and halted together among the trees. “So you have come yourself, Grale,” said Edgar, ‘and oh! you can’t think how glad I am to see you!) My uncle has had some sort of fit while he was out riding, and is lying unconscious.” ‘“T am very sorry. Have just heard of it as I came along.” ‘“‘ Look here, Grale, I can never be too thankful that I had not been bothering him about my affairs.” ‘“‘T won't linger here to hinder you at such a time, old frend. See, I have managed your little business,” added Allan, as he took from his pocket a sealed envelope. ‘‘I could not have delivered that to anybody but yourself, Edgar. ‘There’s a fifty-pound note inside. I thought you might like that better than a cheque.” “How good of you!” exclaimed Edgar Vivian, gratefully. ‘‘ But Pll not begin to thank you now. Without this help what should I have done? ‘There would have been no hope anywhere.” ‘“And this is the box you promised to keep for me,” continued Allan, opening the basket, and waving off thanks by his own matter- of-fact manner. “I thought Td better bring that up myself too. It is such an awkward thing to carry that I put it into this basket, which has the advantage of a handle.” Edgar took it into his hands—an Oriental box, coloured black, with straggling -yellow devices over it. There was a faint perfume about it. Often in after days, when mystery and trouble had set in, did Edgar Vivian seem to catch a waft of that soft, indefinite odour. ‘““T won’t detain you one moment longer,” said Allan, who indeed seemed in nervous haste. ‘‘ You will not find it very troublesome to just stow that away in some safe place at once, will you?” he inquired, with some solicitude. GOMIGIOOKS (E(@) m