The Argosy — page 258: what you’re looking at

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

Lady Postlethwarte’s Will. 239 “ DEAR LaDy POSTLETHWAITE,—I will be with you without fail early to-morrow, as you desire.” I threw the pen down in a sort of panic. My mind was going; I felt convinced of it. I sent for Mellor, who looked graver than before. ‘You must have further advice. I may have overdone that sleep- ing draught, and it is taking its revenge. I can’t be sure. Here is the address of a first-rate man—a specialist. Go and talk to him.” I promised I would. The great man ordered me away without loss of time. He also gave me another variety of sleeping-stuff. I took it with the most singular result. It seemed to deprive me at once of all volition, while leaving my senses us acute as ever. Harris bade me ‘‘ Good-night,” and left me, believing me to be sound asleep ; but though I had been unable to reply to him bya word or the lifting of an eyelid, I could hear every movement he made, and follow the sounds by which I knew the house was being closed for the night. I lay so for more than an hour, and then in the same strange, mes- merised condition I got up and dressed, let myself quietly out, and, I hardly know how, found myself on my way to Lincoln’s Inn. _ [ had the keys of the office with me, though I had no recollection of bringing them, and let myself in. I next remember opening the tin box with Sir J. Postlethwaite’s name still outside, and searching amongst the papers there. I found, as I knew I should, a duplicate copy which my father had had made of the will, but not of the codicil. I brought it away, and also the sealed envelope containing the book-case key. I left all safe, made my way home, and sank into a long, dreamless, refreshing sleep, that lasted till Harris woke me. The copy of the will lay on my dressing table and the key beside it. I sat and looked at them in a sort of panic. Then a sudden determination seized me. I would go at once to Lady Posthethwaite and see if, once brought into contact with the realities, my visions might not of themselves depart. There was no harm trying. I made a rapid despatch of the day’s business and drove down—late as it was—to the Deodaras. The little maid-servant had disappeared, and a hulking man ina smart livery opened the door. He stared at me, for all reply to my enquiry. I repeated it—‘‘ Is Lady Postlethwaite at home ?” “ Lady Postlethwaite St.George is not at home,” was the astounding answer I received. I stood in surprised consternation. The door was closing in my face, when a young lady, who was crossing the hall, turned and looked at me, and with a glad cry ran forward and caught me by the hand. It was Miss Dorrian. She drew me in without another word, past the staring servant, into the room where we had first met COMA @ LNOOKS.EO mn