The Argosy — page 119: what you’re looking at

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

104 The Mystery of Allan Grale. he understood was meant to enjoin instant silence. Instinctively he glanced round. ‘They were passing the back wall of the station. In this back wall there was set one little window, consisting of two dusky panes, sufficient to allow the officials to reconnoitre the country on that side. | Sufficient also, it now appeared, to allow the public to reconnoitre the interior ! For there, on the narrow foot-path, bending a little to one side, so that the light from within should not strike upon her face, and in- tently watching, stood the yellow-cloaked woman. Charles, as he softly passed behind her, contrived to throw a glance inside, curiously eager to find out what she could be looking at. He saw the station- master turning over his time-tables ; and he saw George Vivian stand- ing at the ink-splashed wooden desk, filling in a telegram form. ‘What on earth can that woman expect or want to see ?” whispered Charles, after they had passed. ‘Who knows?” returned the Doctor. ‘‘ Perhaps she may be only trying to see the station-master’s clock ! But there 1s something queer about her. She’s not unlike a detective. Others have thought so, as well as I,” he added, recalling what had been said to him by Edgar Vivian. ‘‘If she is not that, she’s watching somebody or something for purposes of her own.” ‘But she works as a sempstress,” exclaimed Charles. ‘Yes, that may be all a part of her plan. But now, Charles, we must return to what immediately concerns us: did Acland say whether this man, whom he saw, looked at all travel-stained ?” They had come to the bend of the road, which would hide the station from their view, and Charles turned to look back at it. George Vivian, having apparently transacted his business, had quitted the office, and was coming leisurely along. ‘The yellow woman was no- where to be seen. The first news to greet Dr. Palmer, when they entered his house, was the sad event of that afternoon at Dering: namely, the discovery of Allan Grale’s walking-stick by the Black Pool. The Doctor’s daughters stood shivering by, as he touched it and examined it. This stick belonged to Allan; there was no question of that. Whether the other stick, coarse and common, found in the chemist’s shop, had also belonged to him, no one could say. It was very strange that both the sticks should have been heard of, so to say, on the same day. ‘‘ As matters have come to this pass, the Grales must now be spoken with,” observed the Doctor, slowly. ‘‘I must be the one to do it, I suppose. Come along, Charles. Mr. Grale may wish to hear you say yourself what you have to say, rather than listen to it second hand.” “Do you mean, sir, that I ought to tell him what Mark Acland said ?” CONNICOOLKS (E©) m