Adventure Magazine Cover, August 18, 1921 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

6 ask questions; besides, he had more knowl- edge of the young man’s secrets than Geof- frey of his. He laughed outright, half- mockingly, with an undertone of tenderness. “When I was young,” he gibed, “‘I could be made to do just three things: hunt, hawk and fight. You have never lifted a sword save in exercise; you hunt only with Big Blaise and me. Yet you have business that forbids you to hawk with me on the bravest morning of the year.” Geoffrey looked uncomfortable, but of- fered no explanation. “How can I fight?” he countered in boy- ish evasion. ‘There is no war.” “Why, you can not. But if there is no war to take you from me, there is—love, perhaps?” The soft brown eyes, gentle as a woman’s for all the ugly soul behind them, rested af- fectionately on Geoffrey. The boy turned crimson. When he spoke, his voice was almost curt— “And if there is?”’ “Then I shall be very glad. I am get- ting old and would pass over the cares of Monrepaire to stouter shoulders. You re- member your father’s conditions?” “YT remember,” Geoffrey answered care- lessly. Then after a pause— “They are hard conditions.” His voice grew louder and more tense: “It is not so ill a thing to marry, if a man find one he can love; but to kill—why must T kill a man to be thought a man myself? Has not enough blood been shed since Stephen became king?” He broke off, stammering with excite- ment. Sir Richard let the question pass. “Then you have found one you can love?” he asked. His features were aglow with benevo- lence. Breathless as a boy is with a secret he longs to share, Geoffrey opened his lips for full confession, but shyness overcame him. He blushed again and nodded. “That is good,” his uncle praised him. ‘“‘And her name? Is it, perchance, one of Delahay’s girls or the lovely widow of Whitton?” Geoffrey shook his head. “Margaret de Gislac,” he replied, glow- ing with pride in his love. But Sir Richard went white to the lips. Master of his emotions as he was, the sheer Adventure madness of the thing broke down his guard. ‘““‘What—what?” he stammered. “Not Giles’s daughter?” Even as he spoke, he fought for self-con- trol, at last achieving a smile; but it was not his best. “Why not?” Geoffrey asked. His tone was stubborn. The Rotten Reiver knew that tone: the Saxon blood was stirring in the lad’s veins. “Because you are a Monrepaire,”’ he re- plied, ‘“‘the son of William, the grandson of Fulk. Because, since the first of our race laid the stones of that strong tower, there has been hatred between us and the blood of Gislac. Because you are of a stock too proud, too great, to have traffic with broken folk. “Think, lad! Your marriage must bring our house new strength, more wealth, wider influence, richer lands. Giles de Gislac barely holds the roof over his head. Nobly born though he be, the king distrusts him, the nobles despise him. Why, Umfraville and de Born have waited, these three years for a chance to cut his throat. “And you—you may marry an earl’s daughter. There are not ten families in England who have called themselves by the name of their estates or held the same castle for the king for eighty years, as we have done. You, to marry de Gislac’s daughter! Fulk would come red-hot from hell to haunt you!” GEOFFREY’S lips were clamped together in a thin line. He no longer blushed; his face was set and resolute. “Tf my grandfather is in hell,” he an- swered stiffly, ‘‘he has his own wickedness to thank for it. I am beginning to learn how the serfs curse our house and what good cause they have. My grandsire won his wealth by murder and pillage; my father was as bloody a man as ever lifted sword. At least de Gislac is honest, merci- ful and just. I should be proud to marry his daughter.” Sir Richard bit back the hot words he wished to say. Argument was useless; he was wise enough to be gentle. “Forgive me,” he said softly. “You must see how your words surprized me. I have been de Gislac’s enemy all my life. Let me think upon this matter.” In spite of himself Geoffrey was a little ashamed. COmiclbook CO