Adventure Magazine Cover — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

690 effort at advancement met with her in- stant disapproval and speedy check. Gis- del was to be always under her thumb, the tool of her will, the child forced to obey her desires, however cruel, vain and mean- ingless. : As he passed lonely hours of contempla- tion, he looked deeply into his heart, ex- amining the weak spots in his nature, marking without pity each lamentable error from early childhood to the present hour. He wondered if he would ever have a chance as a man, and not as a prince or reigning monarch, to redeem those years. Mademoiselle de L’Isle, in that moment of brutal assault upon the Queen, had taught him an unforgettable lesson. He saw still in his dreams the woman he had loved stri- king that deadly blow which had changed his blind infatuation to cold horror. A feverish desire for freedom possessed the restless prisoner. Though he was per- mitted the comforts due his rank, the very idea of incarceration maddened him. If only he could get away and forever shake the dust of Lambasa from his feet! When night fell he grew still more depress- ed and, hearing a strange booming sound, asked nervously what it might mean. “Those are the salutes being let off in honor of his Majesty, King Maldio,” re- plied the servant who waited upon Prince Gisdel at dinner. ‘The city is en féte.” The prisoner made no remark; he felt he could not bear to hear of the nation’s rejoicing at his fall and Maldio’s return. Leaving his food untasted, Gisdel moved to a sofa and, flinging himself down, closed the eyes that ached from sleepless nights and fruitless vigils. Just as he vaguely wondered whether by any painless process he could put an end to this weary existence, he heard the tramp- ing of feet outside on the polished floor of the wide passage. He sprang up suddenly, paralyzed with fear. Possibly the soldiers were coming to remove him from these passably comfortable quarters to some prison cell. Perhaps the country had de- manded his death and he was to be led out and shot under cover of the night. A thousand dread alarms seized his brain and, like a child afraid of the dark, he cowered away in the far corner of the room, covering his face with his hands. Adventure The sentry outside moved away to en- able the new-comers to unbolt the door. A flash of light from the brilliantly illumi- nated passage streamed in. Gisdel, pulling himself together with a sudden sense of shame at his own cow- ardice, stepped forward unsteadily. As he did so, the door closed again and he found himself face to face and alone with the brother who had been lowered before his very eyes into the Cathedral vault—the brother Queen Horatia sought to destroy that Gisdel might reign. Just for a moment the trembling prisoner turned cold with superstitious dread. He asked himself whether Maldio were really there, or whether this were merely a trick of his over-excited and troubled mind. The tall, youthful figure in its handsome uniform, advanced and took Gisdel by the hand. The firm, friendly clasp suddenly fired the ex-king’s frozen blood. With a gasp of wonder he stammered a halting question: ‘‘Maldio, is it really you?” No mistaking the warm human touch! There was nothing ghostly in Maldio’s smile, so sweetly forgiving and full of un- spoken encouragement. ““My poor Gisdel!” he said, drawing his stepbrother nearer. The kindly tone and conciliatory man- ner affected Gisdel more deeply than all the harshness he had recently endured. Falling forward into Maldio’s arms, his vitality ebbed away in the throes of an emotional faint. Maldio picked up the puny form and laid it on the sofa. “T will not summon help,” he said. ‘Gisdel is despised enough already.” He tried to master his sense of con- temptuous scorn, telling himself that the son Horatia loved was as much her victim as was the stepson she hated. At last Gisdel opened his eyes. ‘Let me abdicate,” he murmured; “‘it is all I ask! In pity give me my freedom— say that I may go to some land of peace. I require no princely state, no hampering title. I never wanted to be king; now I do not even want to be a prince!’’ Maldio raised the limp figure. “Before either,” he said a trifle sternly, “you must learn to be a man!” TO BE CONCLUDED COMMICLOOC|KKS. GO S|