The Argosy — page 300: what you’re looking at

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

The Missing Rubies. 281 The true patriots have no gold to give, and it is only with gold that such aid as yours can be bought. If we spared you to-night, you would betray us to-morrow. But we will not spare you. You shall die!” She shrank away from his threatening hands, crouching against the wall, and breaking out into a shrill wail of agonised fear. He glanced suddenly over his shoulder, and said a few rapid words to Wouriski. There was a bottle on the table, and a large silk handker- chief, Chloroform? As Wouriski’s hand moved towards the bottle, she divined his purpose, and, with a last shriek, flung herself head- long on the ground. The shriek was answered by heavy blows upon the door. The two men paused and looked at each other. ‘Open, open!” cried a well-known voice. ‘It is J—Casimir.” “The game is up,” said Wouriski, in a tone of resignation. And he went to the door and unbolted it without another word. Almost stupefied with horror and despair as she was, Madame Valerot caught the words, and lifted her head from the floor. Vordenberg—pale, noble, composed as ever—had entered the room, and had shut the door behind him. Pauline knew that she was saved; knew it even before his calm voice broke the silence. Some faint recollection of his face began to stir inher mind, but she could not tell who he was. She only knew that he had an influence over these wild men, and that his coming had saved her. ‘What was that cry?” he asked, looking from one to the other. ** Who is this woman P” He spoke the last words as his glance fell on Pauline’s prostrate figure. She raised herself, and stretched out her hand to him in passionate appeal. “Oh,” she said, ‘‘ you are just in time. In another moment they would have killed me. Ihave been entrapped and brought here by a vile scheme. ‘Take me out of this house—take me away at once !” And then, making a supreme effort, she rose to her feet and tottered up to him, clasping his arm, and clinging to him for support. “Ts it true?” he demanded sternly of his friends. ‘‘ Did you in- deed mean to take the life of a defenceless woman ? ” ‘Casimir, do you not know that she is Paulina Lorenski?” Stavieski drew near them with a look that made Madame Valerot shudder, and hide her eyes again. ‘‘Do you not know that God has delivered her into our hands? Ah, my friend, how long will you be deaf to those messages from Heaven that come so plainly to Wouriski and me?” “IT, too, have had a message from Heaven.” Vordenberg’s voice, mellow and musical, had something almost angelic in its sound. “It is a message of forgiveness, and love, and peace. Until I heard it there was no rest for me, day or night ; my heart was like the troubled cComnmicloooKks (SO an