Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

i phn = ~Te cause of the six gods looking down upon them. As she stepped down those stairs, she looked at McCorkle with scathing con- tempt. She was flushed, hot with pride and anger. She spoke to Cameron in a trembling whisper. “They shall not harm you!” “They shall not harm you!” he re- peated. ‘“ Be brave. I can fight!” “You are stronger than they—than any man. They can not stand up against you.” “No! Have courage. Once I can lay my hand upon a weapon—” “There shall be time. I myself can see to that. There shall be time—and to spare.” “Or if—” he went on dropping to a scarcibly audible whisper and without turn- ing to _— if they themselves were with- out arms—” “Yes, then you paid prevail with case—” He was whispering just as he led her to the floor: “ For your sake—” They stood before McCorkle. With the vivid illusion that he was a courtier enacting a splendid and graceful ceremony, the hulking and steaming Mc- Corkle bowed. Retaining this position—a difficult one because of his mountainous bel- ly, he thrust out his hand with a gesture that was not without a certain reptilian grace. Fat men, it is generally admitted, perform with a brevity of movement, of ex- ertion. McCorkle was static, but when he moved a limb—one was reminded of an ele- phant’s trunk. He had reached out to take the girl’s hand. The old chatelaine saw this. She had arisen from her chair and stood grasping it _ —now finding herself tossed about in a hur- ricane of fears and emotions. How simple it had been to keep her equanimity when she faced her enemies alone! How differ- ent it was now that she was a spectator and her daughter was facing the same pack of beasts! Jacqueline was facing a different sort of crisis. Would she meet it—the chatelaine asked herself—as became her blood? Had those Raiglons of old passed down their heritage from one generation to the other in vain? Was there yet a strain of that im- ~ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. maculate courage in the blood of a Raiglon woman? Just how much of the wiles, the cunning, the wisdom of those old pirate brides had been bequeathed to this Jac- queline who had ever been kept from any touch of sin? The wrinkled grandam watched. There was only one course open now. No force was left. Subterfuges, evasions, finesse and trickery of a beautiful girl—that was the only course of salvation! the | Jacqueline put out her hand laying the tips of her fingers upon the tattooed fist Mc- Corkle had thrust before her. That ges- ture had been taught her well. Perhaps she did it now through an instinctive fear, as one might avoid recoiling from a dan- gerous looking dog who is licking one’s hand. McCorkle, of course, steaming like a tre- mendous side of pork, mocked the pre- scribed gesture of a courtier and kissed her fingers. Instead of withdrawing her hand, the girl — said sweetly: “ Monsieur is so gentil!” “Tm what?” Parson, who was part Cajan, inter- preted: “The mademoiselle is shinin’ up to you, captain.” One side of McCorkle’s mouth grinned. “ Be yourself, gal! Be yourself! over here—and set down. We'll have a drink together. Ay—no? Still clinging to that sea-cook? Clutchin’ his sleeve agin— ay? Don’t do that. Don’t be a barnacle Come — to a sinkin’ ship. You see this here candle?” - She saw his thumb with its thick nail, like a turtle-shell. “ When that candle burns down to here your gentleman-friend will sink!” McCorkle flopped into his chair, “Don’t be a barnacle! Cast off there!” The girl came alone to the table. “Set down here next to me!” She obeyed. McCorkle turned to Cam- eron with an expression of grim amusement. “Now then, skipper, we'll leave you watch the proceedings. I want you over there abaft them candles with the light on your face—so’s you can see ’em burn!” He called to the impatient Wing: “ Here you droolin’ lubber fasten this gentleman’s arms to that there stanchion.” He pointed to one of the posts of. the 2rand staircase.