The Argosy — page 295: what you’re looking at

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

276 The Missing Rubtes. You can see it to-morrow, if you choose, with your own eyes. How is it that I know these things? Well, I will tell you that, and a great deal more besides, if you will dine with me at six to-night? We will go to Blanchard’s, and take a table in the quiet upper room there. What do you say? Will you accept my help in this affair P” ‘““T should be utterly mad and ungrateful if I did not accept it,” rejoined Godwin, still hopelessly puzzled, but remembering Beatrice’s strong belief in the man beside him. In years that are yet to come, Godwin Earle will never enter that upper room in Blanchard’s restaurant, without recalling one of the most momentous evenings in his life. There were a good many people dropping in to dine at the tables; pretty women, whose cloaks were obsequiously taken from them by attentive waiters ; well-dressed men who studied the menu with languid interest. ‘The two men, sitting at a table near the window at the top of the room, gave little heed to the other diners. But if an artist had been near them he might have found much to study in their faces. Vordenberg, always noble of aspect, had something exalted in his look as he talked in low tones to his companion. ‘There was fire as well as triumph in his glance; but it was a triumph of the highest kind. And Godwin, listening intently, gradually began to reflect the light that shone upon him from the other’s eyes. Through that mask of impassiveness which a well-bred man always wears in the world’s presence, there came at last a gleam of such joy as is sel- dom seen on any face. The heavy cloud was rolling away from his life. It was a quarter past eight when they left the restaurant, and went out into Regent Street. A calm evening sky was overhead ; stars had begun to twinkle above the house-tops; a soft breath of night came stealing along the stately street ; and to both these weary hearts it seemed like a whisper of peace. “We part here,” said Vordenberg, pausing, and holding out his hand. ‘I am going to see my poor old Polish friends. And you, I know, will not sleep until you have been to the Miltons’ house.” Godwin answered him with a smile, and a few broken words of gratitude. And then each went his way. As Vordenberg turned his steps in the direction of Wardour Street, he was conscious of a new delight in life. Never, even in the days of his happy love, had he looked as handsome as he did when he entered that dim street. <A light was in his face. He had the self-forgetful look of one who has passed beyond the temptations of selfish passion, and has found, on some high region, a place of eternal rest. Forgetting that this was Sunday, and that the door of Gregg’s shop would probably be locked, he laid his hand on the latch. It yielded ; and he went into the house. COMIC OOOKS. GO