The Argosy — page 299: what you’re looking at

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

276 The Story of Charles Strange. “My dear young lady, let me be your friend,” he said in his grave concern. ‘Tell me the whole truth. I know you have nat done so yet. Let it be what it will, I promise to—if possible— shield you from harm,” | ‘Those men are saying in the kitchen that it was I who attacked Lord Level; I overheard them,” she shuddered, the words coming from her brokenly in her agitation. ‘‘Make a friend of me; you shall never have a truer,” he con- tinued, for really he knew not what else to urge, and he could not work in the dark. ‘ Tell me all from beginning to end.” But she only shivered in silence. ‘* Blanche !—did—you—do—it ?” “No,” she answered, with a low burst of heartrending sobs. “ But I saw it done.” (To be continued, ) Sra SPES. ‘‘ WHEN we meet,” she said. We never . Met again—the world is wide: Leagues of sea, then death, did sever Me from my betrothed bride. When we parted, long ago— Long it seems in sorrow musing— Fair she stood, with face aglow, In my heart a hope infusing. Now I linger at the grave, While the winds of winter rave. “When we meet!” The words are ringing Clear, as when they left her lips, Clear, as when her faith upspringing Fronted life, and life’s eclipse. Rest, dear heart, dear hands, dear feet ; Rest! In spite of Death’s endeavour, Thou art mine, we soon shall meet— Ocean, Death, be passed for ever. Thus I linger by the grave, Cherishing the hope she gave. JOHN JERVIS BERESFORD, M.A, CORMNICLIOO KS. COnn