Adventure, June 1911 — page 132: what you’re looking at

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

218 said Stanley, whose eyes had been busy. “Look now, isn’t it so? Here is the leather table supported by lions; on it the galleon and the twelve leering mugs; above it the ‘seven Deadly Sins to give light; and round it the twelve chairs like Elizabethan dan- dies with frills and slashes. They have even the rings that I spoke of on their fore- fingers. By George; notice their eyes—they look alive! Can you make out which is the one that smiles?” He went from one chair to another trying to discover minute differences in their seeming sameness. Suddenly Miss Selward said faintly: “‘Open—the window—please!”’ While he struggled with the rusty catch he heard a slight thud and turned in time to see her sway and fall into the chair at the head of the table. For a moment he was paralyzed, not at the sight of her fair head drooping sideways over the leather arm, but at the expression of the painted. chair-back that looked and leered above her shoulder. There could be no doubt which chair it was that smiled! “For God’s sake,” he cried to the house- keeper, as he rushed toward the two women, “get her out of that!” But Mrs. Green stood like a wooden image, and Miss Selward straightened her- self with an effort to speak naturally: ‘I’m all right; I was only a little faint. Do you know, this ring looks as if it were set with real rubies? And it’s loose—I believe it would come o 2 She got no further, for Stanley was bend- ing over her, white as chalk. Before she could exclaim, he had caught her by the arms and dragged her from her place so violently that they both nearly fell over. To save them, he clutched at the table and set all the tankards rattling. The nearest one rolled to the floor. From one of the dragons above something was jarred loose and fell with a snap on the table, but no- body looked at it. Both women stared at the stranger, who was wiping his forehead, with his eyes shut. “By George!” said he. “That was a near go!” Miss Selward was the first to recover her composure. “Now,” she said, “will you kindly explain? ”’ Stanley opened his eyes with a slight start: “It’s all right—only don’t sit down again. That was the Queen’s chair. You mustn’t sit in the Queen’s chair.” “What queen?” said she. Adventure “Elizabeth. That’s the chair that smiled. No mistake about it. I saw it plain as day.”’ Miss Selward looked back at it. “It isn’t smiling now,” she said gravely. “You must have imagined. In fact, I’m not sure now which of these twoI satin. But I can soon tell; it was the one on which the ring was loose.” She turned to see, but Stanley caught her arm without ceremony: ‘Don’t! Wait till I tell you something.”’ Her attention was diverted by a clatter of hoofs in the court below the open window. “That will be my father,’ she said, and then: ‘‘ Green, will you go down and ask Sir Charles to step up here at once? And not a word to the servants, please.”’ The wooden image came to life with a gasp of relief and waited for no second telling. ‘““Now,’”’ said Miss Selward. ‘Perhaps you did not notice,” said Stan- ley, “that my Christian name is Ramon?” She nodded. “Spanish,” she said. “I wondered a little.”’ ni “T am of Spanish descent,” said he, and in that moment she saw his race in the quality of his bearing. ‘‘But my people. have been settled in America for genera- tions. You have no idea how this furniture came to be here? No? Well, I have the story of it in a small tin box full of parch- ments—three hundred years old and more. The family didn’t know what was in them— we've always been country gentlemen, not scholars; but when I went home from Johns Hopkiris I stumbled upon the box in my father’s safe and tried to figure out the contents. ‘They were written partly in Spanish and partly in Latin, but I couldn’t make much of ’em, so I got the bright idea of bringing ’em over to an expert at the British Museum. Now I have neat copies in duplicate, one of which I shall be happy to lend your father some day—if he is interested. Among the papers was a plan of this house as built by the first Sir Charles, and an inventory of the contents of this room. Hence my visit to-day.” “But how in the world——?”’ “It’s easy when you know. Your an- cestor happened to be an ardent admirer of Queen Elizabeth; mine, the first Raymond Stanley—he was an Irishman in the service of King Philip of Spain—happened to be one of the countless victims of Mary Stuart.” “Tt sounds like a fairy-tale!” she breathed with parted lips. Go dO) ANG SoCO