The Argosy — page 254: what you’re looking at

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

The Missing Rubtes. 237 cheeks. The artist had chosen no new subject—there was a leaden sky, a waste of snow, and a band of Polish exiles on their way to Siberia—but he had told the bitter story well. And surely, in all the world’s great chronicle of crimes there is no darker page than the tale of Russia’s dealings with Poland. It was a page that Beatrice, in her lonely country home, had studied intently, with all the passionate indignation of a warm-hearted woman. And here was a scene, which her fancy had often pictured, presented at last to her bodily sight. Turning round suddenly to speak to Mrs. Milton, she found that a stranger had taken her friend’s place and was standing close by her side. A tall, thin man, with an indescribable stateliness of look and bearing, was gazing earnestly at the picture, taking in every detail as if he were printing the whole upon his memory, and yet never moving a muscle of his grand, calm face. It was a face that might itself have served admirably for a painter’s study : so clearly and finely moulded, so marble-white, so proud in its melancholy beauty. The silvery hair formed a striking contrast to the dark eyes which still shone with the fre of youth; the eyebrows were dark too, and the full beard was only slightly grey. Beatrice, fascinated, and almost startled, could not help looking at him, and noting that absorbed gaze of his. At that moment a hand touched her lightly on the arm. ‘‘Come, my dear,” said Mrs. Milton’s voice on the other side of her. She followed her chaperon at once, and in another second or two they had moved away from the spot. Not until several groups were between them and the bearded man, did Mrs. Milton venture to speak without restraint, and even then she cast a timid glance behind her. “Oh, Beatrice,” she began, “show you were staring at Mr. Vordenberg! I don’t think he noticed you, and I am sure I hope not. What could have possessed you, child ?” “Was that Mr. Vordenberg? It was very wrong of me to stare at nim, Harriet,” replied Beatrice, quite penitently. ‘‘ But I could not help it; his face fascinated me; he is so sad and splendid.” ‘Sad and splendid! Yes; those two words describe him exactly. But I do hope, Beatrice, you will get used to the sadness and splen- dour, and not look at him when you meet him on the stairs. I daresay you will often see him; his rooms are under yours, you know.” “T’ll shut my eyes when I hear him coming. [ll do anything rather than misbehave myself; and yet, Harriet, I must get another view of him somehow. I never saw anybody look so romantic in all my life.” | “Well, you haven’t seen much in all your life. However, he is remarkable, I admit. But Richard and I are quite sure that he does not want to attract notice; it is evident that he likes to lead the quietest of lives.” ‘‘ He is a man with a history ; I am certain of it,” said Beatrice. (A) “ COM nOO|kKS.CO