The Argosy — page 244: what you’re looking at

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

Among Untrodden Ways. 227 way with difficulty towards the cottage. Jacobin was howling dis- mally. Amie was standing at the open door, the wind and rain beating mercilessly upon her. She was starting to come to me, she said, to beg me to take shelter. JI entered, drenched to the skin, and breathless from the heavy gusts of wind. Even asI entered, the wind tore up the valley more furiously than ever, and wrenching one of the shutters from its catch, banged it backwards and forwards on its hinges till it broke away, and the storm burst relentlessly into the little sitting-room. It was for that reason that we passed into Amie’s little chamber. Her lamp was lit, and we sat hand in hand, silent, as the hurricane raged. The uproar caused by the raging wind and furious rain and clashing torrent made it almost impossible to hear each other speak. It also covered the entrance of a stranger. There, without warning, framed in the doorway stood a man of about fifty; his eyes resembled the dog’s, but they were even more terrible. He wore a beard, and his mouth was hidden by a heavy moustache. From the broad-brimmed hat he wore, the water streamed upon his shoulders, and his long coat had been torn apart in the storm. His eyes and mine were fixed on one another ; nevertheless I saw his hand, so boney and hairy, clutching at the handle of something that projected from his pocket. Could it be steel? It was. With a cool precision he balanced that terrible weapon and steadily advanced upon me. He sought no explanation. He gave none. The storm raged even more fiercely; the cottage shook violently. The lamp upon the table shuddered and fell. The flames began to rise. The beloved book was the first to catch fire. Nobody spoke, or the storm rendered the voices inaudible. Amie clung to me with a grip her frail form seemed incapable of. The dog howled omin- ously. There was a loud crash close upon us, and the rain and wind poured into the room. ‘The shutter had gone lie its fellow. All was darkness but for the liquid flame falling from the wooden table to the ground. I took a sudden resolution. Amie was clinging to my neck. Madly I leaped through the aperture the shutter had left, carrying her with me. I fled through the storm like part of itself, my lovely burden flung across my shoulder. As I fled, glancing behind, I beheld in the lightning’s gleam my pursuer. I rushed through the stream that was now wild and turbid, and sped upward between the trees. The ground flew beneath my feet. I gained the moorland above. Which direction should I now take? All were equally open to the gaze of my pursuer. Could I, burdened as I was, hope to outstrip him ? Was I using up the strength which would presently be needed ? I had not to decide the question. <A perfect hurricane of wind swerved round, from what direction I could not tell, but it uprooted trees, and they fell crashing down the valley. It threw me violently to the ground. ‘Oh, my Amie, we are lost,” I cried. She spoke no COM ) nOO|kKS.CO