The Argosy for May — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

208 was mistaken, by ill light and other ob- structions, for a friend of Robespierre’s. Next, I had been able to rescue Elise from the convent, simply because my name was Braith. Now, I had been saved from nocturnal death, because, ap- parently, my name was vot Braith. Was ever mortal man in such another snarl? Was there any head or tail to the absurd, impossible situation? i had, at first, thought Robespierre mistook me for one of his friends. ‘The same supposition would account for his enemies’ assault on me to-night. But the name “ Braith ”’? Why should it secure me the privileges’ of the con- vent-prison, and why should the state- ment that it was not my cognomen snatch me from death at the hands of the Mont- martre Club? Why? Oh, it was all beyond me. To dwell on it longer, I felt, was like to drive me mad. But one thing, at least, my Montmartre adventure had accomplished. It had lifted me out of my despondent rage against fate and circumstances in gen- eral, and De Périer in particular. I saw that situation now at a better perspec- tive and with saner eyes. I had played the fool that morning. Instead of insisting on going over the whole misunderstanding quietly and log- ically with Elise and her father—driving with De Périer, if necessary, to the con- vent itself, for confirmation of my story —what had I done? I had blazed out like any drunken soldier, seeking, by frantic assertion, to batter down a gate of disbelief that only common sense could unbar. I had bellowed where I should have argued. | As a result, I had crushed Elise’s dawning faith in my innocence, and I had subjected myself to a blow from a man too old to give satisfaction. Well, what was done might even yet be un- done. I put my pride and anger behind me— or, rather, both were overwhelmed by my greater love—and decided then and there to humiliate myself, by seeking out Elise and making one more appeal to her. Not for belief this time, but for a fair chance to prove myself guiltless. If she would grant me such chance, I was prepared to seize this baffling THE ARGOSY. mystery by the throat, and—at cost of life, if need be—unveil it. I reached the hotel, full of my new resolve. Passing the door of the De Périer suite, on my way to my own room, I saw a line of light below the thresh- old, and heard voices within. Now that I had fought down my pride, [ was minded not to let a night pass before putting my new resolution to the touch. I rapped lightly—for the hour was late—at the drawing-room door of the suite. Then I pulled myself to- gether, determined not to let any rebuff of De Périer’s turn me from my pur- pose or ruffle my wretched temper. No reply came to my soft knock, the voices within the apartment drowning it. So I rapped again; this time harder. The door, though I had not noted the fact, was on the latch. The impact of my hand*swung it wide. It was ill-hung and its sill warped, or so light a pres- sure would scarce have opened it.. The hotel and its equipment were old, and not in best repair. As it was, I found myself standing on the threshold, looking into the bril- liantly lighted room, whose occupants— grouped at the opposite side, and talking —had not heard even my second and louder knock. Dazzled by the sudden glare of light, after the dark, I stood blinking on the threshold, trying to adjust my eyes to the light, and with my lips parted to ‘apologize for having seemingly flung open the door unbidden. But, though my mouth remained open, no words came. I stood, like the spec- tator at a stage-play, gazing speechless upon a scene being enacted at the far end of the long room. ‘ CHAPTER IX. MY CROWNING ACT OF FOLLY. A TABLE was spread, whereon lay the remnants of a light supper. At one end of it sat M. de Périer, leaning back with a complacent smile on his withered old lips. His pale eyes were fixed affec- tionately on two people who had appar- ently just risen from the board. . One of these was Elise, still pale, but with a happy light in her glorious gray (E@) OO nn) S (C@