The Argosy — page 157: what you’re looking at

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

142 Roy’s Good Samantan. ‘‘Wait one moment, Miss Bevan. Perhaps this will convince you I am speaking truth.” He took a letter-case from his pocket, and found among the con- tents an envelope, bearing his own eagle-crest, addressed to Miss Bevan. Geoffrey felt very full of pity for the girl as she took the note and read its brief contents. ‘Then she raised her head, and looked steadily at Major Pierrepoint as he stood opposite only in haste to have it over and be gone. ‘‘ You know the contents of this letter ?” “Yes.” (Having dictated it himself, there was no room for denial.) ‘‘T am satisfied,” proudly, coldly. ‘‘ You may tell Lady Lucy her son is free ; and for himself —— ” She paused. Geoff was reassured by her calmness. ‘‘Have you any message? My cousin talks of leaving England shortly.” A bitter smile curled her well-cut lips. ‘“‘ The precaution is un- necessary. But, as you are such a willing go-between, there is this ring —— ” She took a scrap of paper from a Davenport near, drew from her finger the ruby-studded ring which was its only ornament, and, with hands that never trembled, made of it a little packet which she gave to Major Pierrepoint. ‘‘ Zhat,” she said, ‘‘ will speak for itself.” He bowed in silence, and turned away. ‘There was no more to be said. A moment later, he had closed the door upon the calm, emotionless, beautiful face he should, in all likelihood, never see again, congratulating himself that it could be so calm still. After all, the blow was a blow to ambition, to pride; for, possibly, even a librarian’s daughter might have her pride as well as a peer’s; but the fresh young heart at least was undaunted. ‘This was Geoff’s crumb of comfort. He had been worldly-wise, but not cruel. The small maid-of-all-work was not forthcoming to show the visitor out. He had to grope for his umbrella in the dim hall, and his un- accustomed fingers fumbled a minute or two with the intricacies of the latch. When the door was at last open, he suddenly remembered that he had left his letter-case behind him. He shut it again with a bang that shook the house, and, going back to the library, pushed open the unfastened door with an apology on his lips which was arrested in the utterance. In the shabby leather chair, near the table, sat Una Bevan, her arms resting upon it, her head bowed down between them in an agony of grief. Her whole frame was quivering with convulsive, noiseless sobs, as Geoffrey Pierrepoint stood irresolute, while his accusing conscience said, with stern upbraidings : Behold your work! His pocket-book lay on the table, within reach of his hand; but he had forgotten his errand—forgotten everything but the unhappy victim of Pierrepoint pride cowering before him in the intolerable misery of this rude awakening from her brief dream of happiness. GOmicdooks m