The Argosy — page 201: what you’re looking at

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

184 Lady Valeria. may not be reckoned against me; they were unworthy of a professing Christian. Such a slip as may give the enemy occasion to blas- pheme.” Magrath looked horribly puzzled, but stroked his moustache in silence, making a deprecatory motion with his hand as if nothing were farther from /zs intention. ‘Go now; I can trust myself no longer. Go. You shall have your rights.” “Eventually. Of that Iam assured. I candidly confess I should like the handling of a note or two by way of earnest. Don’t incon- venience yourself. Notes, or cheque, or gold.” His eyes flamed as he watched Meynell open his writing-table drawer and take out a cheque-book. He stood looking over his shoulder till he saw the amount filled in, when his hand went up again to his mouth to conceal a smile of complacency. He caught Eustace’s eyes fixed meaningly on him. He advanced to the table with a flourish, and taking up a sheet of letter-paper made a neat, workmanlike parcel of the letter, watch and chain, miniature and nng; Meynell handed him string and wax, and he secured them carefully, with an occasional glance of high content at the tempting slip of paper in the banker’s hand. The work done, he turned solemnly to Eustace. ‘Take this. In your hands now rests the honour of the de Cressys. On the day when my brother’s last obligation is discharged they are his, to deal with as he shall see fit. ‘Till then you will hold them in trust for both of us.” Eustace accepted the obligation gravely, and wrote a carefully worded receipt which he handed to Magrath, who was occupied in writing another for Meynell in a neat, clerkly hand. He made a pause at the signature, and a hot flush mounted to the banker’s pale cheeks as he took the paper and quickly put it out of sight. In another minute Magrath had picked up his curly-brimmed hat, bidden a graceful adieu to both, and with a jocund step and smile departed. ‘To meet again !” he said, as the door closed on him. Meynell cast himself into a chair all spent and trembling. “Don’t leave me just yet,” he pleaded. Eustace had rung the bell, and meeting the butler at the door gave him an order. *T don’t mean to go for some time,” he answered. “I have a great deal to say to you, and when you have had a glass of wine and can listen quietly you shall hear it.” “fe is a scoundrel,” said Eustace, presently. ‘‘ No, that is too black a word—A rogue in grain. He knows that we both disbelieve him utterly, but as he has got you ina cleft stick he doesn’t care even to take much trouble to play his part thoroughly. I think he anticipated a harder fight, though.” ‘* My hands are tied,” groaned Meynell. ‘‘ He knows what I hoped even to conceal from you.” CORMICMOOOKS. ©