The Argosy — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

— a The Night Boat from Boulogne. AI with dark hair like that; but what was familiar about him? Evidently she was an Englishman. No—yes—Janet, in looking at him, for a moment forgot her trouble. He was talking in French to an official, -and she heard him say something about a “ Bureau de Renseigne- ment.” What was that? Janet’s French was not very first-rate as to accent, though she spoke fluently. The solution came suddenly into her mind. Enquiry Office, ef course ; but what was that peculiar scar on which the gaslight played? A scar; a curiously-shaped scar—she had seen it before. But where? It was—it was—yes, the young man who had been so civil about the rug! Of course! ‘That was certainly the same mark. But then that man had—yes, /fazr curling hair, and this one—she glanced quickly again, her heart seemed to leap into her mouth—this one had dark, very dark hair; and yet it was the same mark. If so, it was—it was—yes, undoubtedly this man was disguised. And why? She started from her seat as if struck by lightning ; but already the stranger had walked rapidly away ; and Janet, trembling with strange confused thoughts and excitement, sank down into her seat again. Only for a moment however. Why should she not follow him? Suppose—wild supposition—that this disguised man should be the thief ? And now she came to think of it, that dark hair was something like—or might be—the colour of the hair of the man in the railway- carriage, only there was no beard and no whiskers. If so Janet pinched herself in order to make herself think consecutive thoughts ; her brain seemed on fire ; why was she wasting time? She must follow him and accuse him ‘‘ How stupid I am,” said poor Janet to herself, suddenly becoming calm. “If Frank were only here he would know what to do. Where is the Enquiry Office? Anyhow, I can follow him and then see.” She asked the question of a stout official and he jerked his head ‘towards a corridor in a dark corner of the big salle. By this time Janet had somewhat collected her thoughts and her prudence, and though still terribly excited she settled that it were wise to see and not be seen. She had a large black veil in her pocket which she had brought for the wind ; this she now hastily tied round her hat and felt sure she could not be recognised. Also she had no travelling ulster -on, and must look like quite another person. As she reached the door of the Bureau and pushed it open, the Englishman came out, and she heard the last words of the clerk ‘within : ‘The train goes in a quarter of an hour, monsieur, so you have no time to lose.” ‘And you say there is a night service from Boulogne? ” ‘I have already told you so,” said the irate official. Janet stood on one side, but this time she determined not to let the man out of her sight. Neither would she venture into the Bureau ; she had heard enough, her mind was made up. The night CoOnnicloookKks (S©) im