The Argosy — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

Christobel. 65 assert itself was alarm, for the door was flung open to admit Sir Edward Meredyth, who advanced hurriedly, looking pale and scared. He was a nervous, excitable man by nature, and was too thoroughly overwrought at this moment to keep back his bad news. “ Vandyken,” he gasped. ‘‘ At what hour did he come here to-day ? Whom did he see ?” “He saw me,” exclaimed Geraldine. ‘He stayed only a few moments, and then left to take a long walk, as he said, on the moors.” ‘‘And he went as far as the Quarry, and there he met Miss Fane,” promptly interposed Mrs. Chisholm. At this, everybody turned and looked at Christobel, who was sitting like a statue, with a frozen look of horror, and of something deeper also than mere horror, in her bloodless face. She neither stirred nor spoke in answer to Mrs. Chisholm’s remark, and Sir Edward, so excited as to be unable to dwell long on any aspect of the question, went on hurriedly: ‘The most extraordinary circum- stance is that if there has been foul play, its object was not clearly robbery, for my poor friend’s watch and rings are all untouched, although his purse is missing. Even the diamond pin in his necktie 1s still there.” “Good heavens!” exclaimed Mr. Hillyer. ‘‘ Do you mean then to say that Vandyken is—is hurt ?”’ “Hurt? He is dead!” replied Sir Edward, every moment more distraught. ‘‘I tell you he was found at the bottom of the old Quarry, lying on his face, and so disfigured by the fall as to be unrecognisable but for his clothes and his beard.” ‘Oh, hush!” cried Mr. Hillyer, as Geraldine and Mrs. Chisholm screamed aloud. ‘‘ You never told me until this moment,” he added, angrily. ‘‘ How could I guess at anything so horrible ? ” Sir Edward was now striding up and down the room, wiping his brow repeatedly with his handkerchief, and talking half to himself, half to others, but still too excited to consider anything but his own feelings. “To think of such an end to his visit,” he exclaimed. ‘Such an appalling death. Poor fellow! Poor Vandyken ! [——” ‘“Oh, cease,” cried Christobel, suddenly springing to her feet, and pointing wildly towards the door. But even as she spoke her cry was drowned ina shriek of horror, and everybody turning, saw what she had already seen: Miss Millicent standing in the open doorway, her face ashen-pale and haggard with woe, one shaking hand outstretched, the other convulsively clutching the stick on which her enfeebled frame leaned for support. “What has happened ? Who is dead ?” She asked the question in a strained, unnaturai voice, and fixed dilating eyes of anguish on Sir Edward. | ‘Nobody of the family, Miss Hillyer,’ he began, soothingly. WO, Xi. COIN eboe SaCO am