The Argosy — page 120: what you’re looking at

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

The Mystery of Allan Grale. 105 ‘Certainly. Encompassed with uncertainty though it be, Mr. Grale ought to hear it.” They both went out, into the rich golden light of the calm summer evening. As they walked, with the peaceful beauty of field and wood- land stretching far away around them—here and there a soft, white cloud of smoke rising from a cottage chimney to tell of the rest and comfort of harmless homes, it seemed a world apart from sin and SOrTOW. And at no point was the scene more peaceful or more fair than when they drew near Moorland House; its long, low, old walls gleaming white amid its solemn cedars and umbrageous elms. ‘The rooks were cawing noisy vespers, amid which the remote monotonous note of the eve-jar, struck the ear but faintly. “What was that ?” asked the Doctor suddenly, with a start. ‘“ T heard nothing but the birds,” answered Charles. ‘‘“T am sure it was a human voice,” said the Doctor. At that moment they turned into the short, broad path leading to the Moor- land porch. In front of it stood a carriage—a neat little brougham, which Dr. Palmer knew well. He had occasionally hired it himself in Carstow. “ Dear me!” he exclaimed, ‘there are visitors! It will be diff- cult to get at Mr. Grale alone, without exciting observation. But at that instant somebody came out of Moorland House, running hastily past the brougham. It was Susan, the parlour-maid. In her absorbed haste she almost ran against them. She pulled herself up breathlessly, exclaiming : “Oh, Dr. Palmer, I was coming for you, sir. ‘The mistress has heard some bad news, and she just gave one scream and fell down in a dead faint.” “Ah, I thought I heard a cry!” responded Dr. Palmer, hurrying forward. Susan ran by his side, Charles following. ‘Tt was all the cook’s fault,” narrated Susan. ‘‘She’d been down in the village, and she’d heard something about poor Mr. Allan. If she had taken a minute to think, she’d have had more sense; but the mistress was the first person she met, just crossing the hall, and she told her what she heard—and Mrs. Grale cried out and fell.” They were on the threshold now. ‘Who is the visitor, Susan ?” asked Dr. Palmer, in a hurried whisper, as he pointed to the brougham. “‘Lady Laura Bond, sir.” (To be continued ). CONnnicloolkks (CO)