The Argosy — page 294: what you’re looking at

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

The Amethyst Seal. 275 question arose as to the best and safest mode of forwarding the docu- ment to its destination so that no suspicion that it had been tampered with should be aroused in the mind of its recipient. He lit a cigar and lay back in his chair, with his eyes fixed on one corner of the ceiling. By the time his smoke was finished he had made up his mind as to the safest course to pursue. He would replace the manu- script in its original envelope ; it would never do to put it into a fresh one and address it in his own writing ; and would carefully seal it up again. Only, and here was the rub, he would have to make use of a seal of his own wherewith to impress the wax, which, as a matter of course, would be altogether different from the one used by Sir George. He could not see that the difference would matter. How was Mr. Symes to know that the seal was other than his client’s ? Going into his dressing-room he unlocked an old-fashioned bureau which stood there, and took out of one of the drawers a certain ame- thyst seal, set in gold, which once upon a time had belonged to his father. It was one of those ponderous seals which gentlemen used to wear attached to their watches, some forty or fifty years ago. How it had come into his father’s possession, Harold had never heard. It was beautifully cut. On the upper side were two hands clasped as if in friendship ; underneath the hands was a dagger, point downwards ; and below that the one word Désormazs. No one knew that he had such a seal in his possession ; what could be safer than to make use of it in an emergency such as the present ? Accordingly the envelope was reclosed, and the hot wax stamped with the impress of the amethyst seal. Then fresh postage stamps were affixed over the place where the original ones had been, and then there was nothing more to do save to drop the packet into the nearest pillar box. He waited till dusk before doing this. Then with a sigh of relief that his dangerous task was safely over, he turned and walked slowly in the direction of his club. Tif, THE “ Robbery of the Stilwater Mail,” as it was called, was a regular godsend to the newspapers, big and little, happening, as it did, at that dead season of the year which comes just before Christmas. Buta mystery it was at the beginning, and a mystery it seemed likely to remain to the end of the chapter. Captain Wenlock had no difficulty in proving an alibi. Indeed, all who knew him ridiculed the idea of his being mixed up in any way in such an affair. He had plenty of witnesses to vouch that he had never left home on the evening in question. Still, the affair annoyed both him and Sir George considerably. — On the second day after the discovery, Sir George said to his son : ‘*You had better telegraph to Symes and ask him whether he has received the draft of the will all right.” So the Captain rode into CoOnniclooolkks (CO)