Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 16, 1921 — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

WHITE HEATHER WEATHER. turned him to marble, the second must set the poor statue in motion. Pygmalion’s - role reversed, I say! Then take whatever course you must, Kate. I leave it to your own wit.” “Thanks,” said the girl carelessly. think I’ll come close to the truth with him.” “My dear child!” cried her mother. “‘ Where are your wits?” “Out. gathering ideas,’ said Kate. “Why not tell him—without the names? He’s a gentleman. Besides, we'll never see him after we reach London. If you please, go bring him, James. We should be on the road now. The horses have rested a little, and if my father guesses what way we’ve come, he and my Lord Harchester will be hard at our heels.” “T think you have it,” nodded the coach- man. “ And tell him the name of Harches- ter. That fellow has a nationwide fame as a roué and swordsman since he ran poor Vickers through. Just the reputation to make old Puritan blood boil. Adieu, my lady.’”’* ; And he left the room and came to the impatient Samson singing the same French ballad with which he had left him. “Jt needed some persuading,” he ex- plained as he led the way back toward the room. ‘‘ Rather an unusual request, but the necessity is urgent, and my lady has consented.” He opened the door and stood stiffly at | one side. “Mr. Samson Integrity Northam!” he answered in a loud voice, and closed the door as Samson Integrity stepped inside. He had seen her last by chilly moonlight, and then she had seemed pale as death; but now the ruddy firelight played softly over her. It glinted on the white cap, seeded with pearls, and gave to that pale gold hair a ruddy tint of richness; so that it seemed, when she first turned ther head toward him, that her face was framed by fire. Tenderly and surely the hand of the Maker had molded that face, and left it, certainly, with the reluctance of the artist who turns at length from ‘his masterpiece. And the glance of Samson Integrity moved down to the white triangle of the throat and bosom which showed soft and pure against the 3 A ee 33 rich blue of the gown, and over the tight sleeves which ended in tapering triangles of cloth reaching down almost to the knuckles of the hands. Most marvelous hands they were to Samson Integrity, deli- cately wrought, and those knuckles were shown by slight, dimpling depressions; and the fingers which drooped over the arm of the chair, surely they were not meant to do aught save idle over silken surface; aye, but he sensed a strength in them—such strength as could take hold on his heart and wring it to agony. | He saw all these things as he stood at the door with his broad hat crushed under his arm and his other hand resting on the hilt of his sword; for her eyes were cast down for a moment toward the fire—but when they lifted and met his glance, he lost sight of all else. It was like a shock which made him stand straighter; it was like a current of force which shot tingling through his blood; and if he had seen her body before he felt suddenly that now he was looking into her soul. She glanced up—she smiled—she rose and stood by her chair, and Samson Integ- rity na not move hand or muscle, save to _ tighten his grip on the hilt of his sword. Then her voice broke the spell, a voice low-pitched, as music should be when it enters on a theme of surpassing loveliness. It melted the ice in Samson Integrity’s soul and loosed the muscles of his knees. ‘Tf you are Samson Integrity Northam,” she said, ‘“‘ you are he who has offered to do me a great service.” ‘““T am Samson Integrity Northam,” he answered, ‘“‘ and I shall serve you as far as I can.” “You have been told what must be done?” ‘“T must drive you to London.” ‘“ But you must know that there may be dangers.” “T must keep you from dangers,” he told her and wished that he could take his eyes from her face. He was no longer sure of himself, and his breath fluttered like the wings of a stridken hawk. “If there is any question you wish to ask me about why I am flying toward Lon- don, it is your right to be answered.” COmicloool< (C@