The Argosy — page 256: what you’re looking at

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

Letters from Majorca. 235 vellous as they were visible. But you have not forgotten the little episode in the old man’s boat : how he passed up a keg of Anisette that was worth a guinea a drop; how it fell into H. C.’s hands; and how when it reached mine, the keg, like Mother Hubbard’s Cup- board—to quote that lady once more—was dry and empty. I have not forgotten it. I shall never forget it. I reach the door at last and let myself in. Night after night the ordeal grows a little more formidable. Continual dropping will wear away astone. ‘The silence and solemnity of the great rooms become more and more appalling. The solitude is more insupportable. I think of the days when A. and I were here together, enjoying each other’s companionship; when, if our voices did not exactly ‘‘make music” in our ears, at least they sounded very much like it. I find my way to the oval room, our old dining-room, and light my lamp. The shadows it casts grow a little longer every night ; more weird, mysterious, portentous. I am evidently growing nervous. This nightly weight of solitude is taking effect. I have never been deficient in moral courage (it is useless to be always modest), but I have never had to go through this nightly ordeal. Can you imagine the silence and solitude of a deserted palace? ‘The ghosts of past recollections with which it is peopled? I wonder how long I shall hold out ? Was it for this that I came out from England ; came out with nerves already unstrung and vitality at its lowest ebb P The day following the doctor’s summons for more help, came a message from England. “Your request attended to. Nurse Little leaves on Friday evening. Telegraph Interpreter at Barcelona to meet train at Portbou.” We looked at each other. Vurse Little. Could this be possible ? or was it a joke on the part of the telegraph officials ? or a misprint P For it frequently happens that a message as it is delivered here, bears not the faintest resemblance to the message that left England. Or was it simply one of those coincidences that happen in life over and Over again ; proving every day of our lives that truth is stranger than fiction P “Why,” exclaimed the doctor, ‘the long and the short of it is— no, I don’t mean it for a play upon the words—but the long and the short of it is, that we shall get into hopeless confusion.” “It is certainly a strange coincidence,” I said. | ‘“‘ It must be a misprint,” decided the doctor. ‘I, for one, never come across these coincidences in real life.” “Depend upon it, you will find it here for once.” I replied. “Somehow it looks genuine. And as things generally go by con- trary, and as Nurse Long is very short, you may take it for granted that Nurse Little will be extremely tall.” It was the doctor’s turn to laugh. “I think you are a bit of a pessimist,” he cried. ‘' Confess it.” Q* cCcomicooolkks (CO) mn