The Argosy — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

The Night Boat from Boulogne. 49 Suddenly she remembered she had Frank’s keys and her own in her pocket. Their luggage was still at Paris, having never been claimed. With trembling hands, she drew the bunch of keys from her pocket and tried them. At first uselessly ; then one slipped in, and she turned it. No, it only turned. She tried again and again ; in vain; she must give it up. All at once, as if by magic, the key turned the lock and the bag flew open. A mist of intense dread and hope came before her eyes; she could not see anything but some linen, some socks and other odds and ends. She must look thoroughly, now she had done the deed. She lifted the linen; the lost packets were so small in reality that they could be put into any corner. There was nothing—nothing. At last, almost mad with disappointment, she threw everything on the floor; she would empty the bag; she would look at everything. Now all the contents were scattered, and not one package was unopened. All she had done, all she had gone through, was utterly useless ! If the man had disguised himself, then it had nothing to do with the loss of her husband’s diamonds, and all the plots she had fancied she had unravelled were only a mare’s nest. Hot tears of bitter disappointment fell from her eyes. She heard the clock strike four; the dawn had not yet pierced the night’s curtain ; there was nothing to be heard but the faint sound of a distant market-cart. Evidently Boulogne folk rose early. Had the night boat gone without that passenger as it had certainly gone without his luggage? Or, worse thought—had he waited for it ? One by one she put back the things as neatly and carefully as she wwould have done for Frank; she felt so penitent for having accused that poor, unknown man of robbery. She mentally asked his pardon very humbly now. He should anyhow find everything in order in his bag if not exactly in the same order as before. The dress-coat should not be crushed, a pair of socks squeezed into that corner should prevent his best shirt-front from being crumpled. But how was this? ‘This pair of socks would not be squeezed as socks are meant to be. ‘They were hard—they were not rolled properly. Janet unrolled them. Out fell—yes, upon the floor, a packet, a small box. On the box, half broken off, was the seal always used by the firm of Milsom and Harris. Janet stifled a cry of joy. Wildly she again turned out the bag, undid the other socks, and found several more boxes. After all, she was right ; right ;—and she had found the diamonds. She had saved Frank’s future ; she had Poor little woman ! tired, excited and wet through, Janet hid her face in her hands and this time wept for joy. Before the quay was as lively as usual, a little figure might have been seen walking quietly down to the landing-place, followed by a blue bloused man, carrying a Gladstone bag. WoL. XLIX. E COnniclooolkks am