The Argosy — page 239: what you’re looking at

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

2.22 Among Untrodden Ways. use, for at length with a gesture of impatience she turned from it, and her eyes fell upon me. There could be no reason in it, but I felt like a criminal. What right had I to be watching her so without her knowledge? She had held me spell-bound ; she also released me. For, with a cry of terror, much like some animal might give who has seen his comrade struck down by a gun and knows it is pointed at him, she flung her white arms into the air, and fell violently forward. I rushed through the stream, when she had thus restored my power of motion, and was instantly at her side raising her, and chafing the little hands, which I now saw were tanned and freckled, but of ex- quisite form and mould. But the face! Had ever wood-nymph such a face? Who and what could she be? ‘The proud upper-lip spoke of a long and noble line of ancestors? ‘The lines of her face, the poise of her head upon those graceful shoulders, all spoke her of noble descent. Yet this strange garb, what could could it mean ? The eyes remained closed. I ran to the stream and filled my hat with water, with which I sprinkled her face. She had sung in French ; I now addressed her in that language. She first smiled, and then opened her eyes. Oh, those eyes, to be thus looked into at so small a distance and in such a lonely spot— soft, velvety, melting brown. But as the sweet eyes revealed them- selves, the smile died, and a look of proud enquiry took its place, and she asked me how I came to be there, as a princess might rebuke an unbidden intruder on the royal presence. I explained, as well as I could, that I was wandering about the country on my bicycle, leading a gipsy life for the sake of variety, nearing the towns or villages only when my provisions failed, and I had come quite by chance upon this lovely valley. She raised herself and leaned upon the bank, looking at me criti- cally. Then her ripe lips smiled and a sunny ripple overspread her features, and she spoke. ‘‘ Are you a prince?” she said in French. ‘‘In my book princes come so to find their princesses. I feared mine would never come. You must be my prince, and are come to marry me— isn’t it so ?” I had but one sense alive as this exquisite creature spoke: it was silent admiration. She waited for no reply; but, pointing to my bicycle, said: “‘ Is that magic?” And then leaning forward to look at me more closely, her rich smile inundating me with a wild joy I had never known till then, she added: “‘ But, mon prince, you must not take me to the great world till my father shall return, ani, alas, he is very long.” ‘What need of going to the great world at all, my princess?” I cried, taking one of the little hands, and feeling my pulses beat in a wild transport at this new contact. She looked at her hand, held within both mine, and then lifting her eyes to mine, in sweet childish confidence, said: “But in my book CORNICDOOKS. CO)