Avon Fantasy Reader No. 8 — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

86 | ALGERNON BLACKWOOD simply loved his grandfather. He hoped—for a moment—he would be lifted up and kissed. “I’m awfully gtad I brought it,” he faltered—“that you ve got it again.” as The other turned his kind grey eyes upon him; the smile on his face was full of gratitude as he looked down. “Thank you, my boy. I am truly and deeply indebted to you. You courted _ danger for my sake. Others have tried before, but the Nightmare Passage— ef ” He broke off. He tapped the. stick firmly on the stone flooring, as though to test it. Bending a trifle, he put his weight upon it. “Ah!” he ex- | claimed with a short sigh of relief, “I can now * Fis voice again grew indistinct; Tim did not catch the words. “Yes?” he asked again, aware for the first time that a touch of awe was in his heart. “get about again,” the other continued very low. “Without my cane,” he added, the voice failing with each word the old lips uttered, “I could not +. possibly . . . allow myself... to be seen. It was indeed .. . deplorable *...unpardonable of me .. . to forget in such a way. Zounds, sires J) 11 2” His voice sank away suddenly into a sound of wind. He straightened up, tapping the iron ferrule of his cane on the stones in a series of loud knocks. Tim felt a strange sensation creep into his legs. The queer words frightened him a little. , | 7 : : The old man took a step towards him. He still smiled, but there was a hew meaning in the smile. A sudden earnestness had replaced thé courtly, leisurely manner. The next words seemed to blow down upon the boy from above, as though a cold wind brought them from the sky outside. Yet the words, he knew, were kindly meant, and very sensible. It was only the abrupt change that startled him. Grandfather, after all, was but a man! The distant sound recalled something in him to that outside world from which the cold wind blew. “My eternal thanks to you,” he heard, while the voice and face and figure seemed to withdraw deeper and deeper into’the heart of the mighty chamber. “T shall not forget your kindness and your courage. It is a debt I can, fortu- nately, one day repay... . But now you had best return and with dispatch. For your head and arm lie heavily on the table, the documents are scattered, there is a cushion fallen . . . and my son is in the house. . . . Farewell! You had best leave me quickly. See! She stands behind you, waiting. Go with her! Go now...!” The entire scene had vanished even before the final words were uttered. Tim felt empty space about him. A vast, shadowy Figure bore him through it as with mighty wings. He flew, he rushed, he remembered nothing mere— until he heard another voice and felt a heavy hand upon his shoulder. “Tim, you rascal! What are you doing in my study? And in the dark) like this!” i