The American Marquis by Nick Carter — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

i eo THE AMERICAN MARQUIS. ' <<’'There’s a picture in the north gallery of a phACONSae man, who looks like the artist, and a woman in a mask, dressed exactly as I was that night.” ~ €* Well, what of 1t?” ‘What of it? Suppose he should have painted it?” ‘‘Tf he’s dead, how could he? Do be sensible, Grace.” But if he’s not dead ?” ‘He is dead, I tell you; but, even if he were not, it} needn’t make any difference to you, as long as he doesn’t find you out.” | ~ pe eat* What!” Grace drew herself up proudly. ‘¢ Much as I love Honore, sure as I] am it would kill me _to leave him, if I thought Clinton ee was alive, I would confess everything.” Grace buried her face in her hands, and rocked to and — fro, sobbing piteously. | Alphonse was alarmed. Not at the disgrace which hung over his sister, but at the danger which threatened himself. : The danger of his having his six thousand a year with- drawn. 7 “You surely would do no such silly thing, Grace? f ‘‘ Alphonse,” she sobbed, ‘if Clinton Hastings were alive, Honore would not be my husband. Oh, my brother, help — me! } 99 : ‘What can I do? Don’t I tell you the artist 1 is dead? He was killed that very night.” ‘‘ But who else could paint the picture? Who else could have known the details?” _ ‘A mere coincidence. But Pll tell you what I'll do, Grace. I'll go see the directors, and pretend I want to buy | the picture. In that way I can see the artist.” “« Do, Alphonse. Go now. Right away, that's a good brother.” | Not because he was a good brother, but because he was 2 so intensely selfish, Alphonse set cut, determined to bring. back such a report as would satisfy Grace, and turn her from her project of confessing to D’Iberri that she had al- ready been married. : He first went to the Academy and looked at the Rica is could not avoid a start of fear.: Comicbooks.co m