Adventure Magazine Cover, March 20, 1925 — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

30 antlered head pointed fairly in his direction. Surprize and excitement brought his crossbow to his shoulder. He pressed the trigger when the stag moved—the eager- ness of the hunter strong upon him. The shaft sped and the deer vanished, not bounding away, but sinking, as it seemed to him, into the ground. “Many a one for him make mane, But none sal! ken where he is gane; O’er his white bones, when they are bare, The wind sall blaw for evermair.” . The voice stopped on an unfinished note and there fell the familiar silence with its monotone of the gale overhead. Thorne ran forward, and sought eagerly in the ferns for the prey. that he thought he had slain. He found nothing, neither deer nor shaft. Nor, indeed, any sign of the singer, though he hunted through the broken ground until he came out on the shore and saw the line cf surf an angry white under the leaden gray of the mists. “Are you friend or foe?” he called and, after waiting a moment, “I’ll harm you not.” But. the only response was the impatient and mocking calling cf the birds. Taking his way home, his eye fell on a shaft half buried in the ground, and he took it up believing it was the bolt he had shct. It proved, however, to be an arrow, such as he had never seen before. It was a small shaft, feathered with black crows’ feathers and bearing two small iron heads. After inspecting it, he thrust it into his belt and charged his crossbow anew. For a while he quested alcng the ridges, until, the mist thickening, he knew his search vain and turned to the Wardhouse. When he told Peter all that had taken place on the shore, the boatswain nodded indifferently. “Aye, it were a pixie or a wood troll, or mayhap a Robin Goodfellow. Faint and clear it sung, say ye? Why, it were an- hungered. Ye should have left it a bit of a sup.” “But I saw naught, Peter.” “And why should ye, Master Ralph? Tis sartain and sure that pixies dwell in cromlechs, which is to say hcllcw mounds, beneath the sod. Where rocks stand, like a circle, with linden trees, keep your weather eye out for trolls and such-like.” Thorne was far from satisfied with this. Had a ship come to the island? If so, Adventure where was it anchored? Were there natives, pagan folk, about the Wardhouse, and were they invisible? He could have sworn there were no deer on the island, which was too. small for a herd; yet he had seen one. CHAPTER XI THE SEA MAIDEN TOUCH on his arm awakened him from the deep sleep of early morning. The hall was visible in the half light that never quite left the island. Somewhere he heard Peter snoring comfortably. The woman who stood by his couch, whose hand had touched his arm, held her firger on her lips. She was no taller than one of the great bales of gcods beside her, and she was swathed from head to foot in a> heavy sea cloak. .Only two braids of hair of the brightest red gold were visible. “You may not abide in this-place,” she said softly. here.” Her eyes, he noticed, were dark and they. glowed with excitement. Her age he could not guess, but manner and voice were youthful, and the voice was that of the singer of the day before. “Why?” he asked briefly, watching her face. It was characteristic of the armiger that he showed no surprize at her presence. She was here, and in due time he would know all about that. 3 “The Easterlings are angered, lad. They will not endure you mcre.”’ ‘““Why are they angry?” “You shot a shaft at one; beaides: you hold the Wardhouse and they would have it for my comfort. What seek you here?” Thorne rose to his feet, and she stepped back as if to ward him off. “Nay, sir, touch me not, for that would be your death.” “Here are threats and warnings,” quoth the armiger impatiently. “But no sense. Mistress, I have loosed me no shaft at any pagan, nor have I a mind to harm you. Come, we will build the fire anew and you shall rede me this riddle.” He turned to call Peter to go for more wood, but again the girl in the sea cloak checked him in his purpose. “Nay, let the lout sleep. The Easter-: lings have no love for him and they would COnNICLO© “You must get you gone from S (©