Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

HIS SERVICE TO FOLLY. laughter told Basil that the hunchback knew, and a moment later he stepped into the path. ‘ Thanks for fastening that rope, Gefondo.” “You made use of it, young mas- ter?” “She is with Father Mathieu at Limonade. Now I must return for the marquis.” “At Limonade. You trust me bet- ter than this afternoon, fool.” “ Gefondo, when a man’s heart lies in a woman’s hands, he trusts only him- self. Now, J ask that you tell me a way to return.” “If you knew Christophe and his court as I know it, you would go back the way you came. ‘They'll drink all night and sleep all day. But why re- turn? Why put your head in the lion’s jaws a second time?” “The marquis is an old man and innocent. ‘They’d kill him perhaps.” “When Christophe is sober, he’ll torture him. Well, go back. ’Tis proof that thy bells and fool’s cap are deserved. But I shall not return. I go to Sans Souci to free that great giant, Jack Butts, who is reserved for Voodoo fires.” “ Gefondo, an hour ago J watched your fire, and saw—” “ Young master, whisper not a word, or you may feel instead of see those fires. Go quickly now. Dawn is not far away.” He went with Basil, so quickly that it was all he could do to follow, until they came to the rope dangling down the cliff sides “When you have done with it, cut it loose. Christophe’s men never visit this place for fear of ghosts. But the Jungle Brethren take care of the dead who fall from an emperor’s grace. You saw the cremation of the emperor’s physician to-night.” Already the sky was lighter gray be- tween the stars, and Basil caught the dangling rope and began that long as- cent, crawling like a fly against the wall, hand over hand, legs gripping the 229 fabric between his knees until he en- tered the opening in the stone, and could rest at times, body braced across _the hole. After a time his hands gripped the upper ledge and he drew his body across it; he lay and listened, and heard no sound from the emperor’s bedroom. Drawing his feet slowly up, he tested them on the floor, moved behind the hangings until he came to the end of a panel and peered out. On the magnificent bed, Christophe was sprawled, a limp giant in pink silk nightgown, deep in drink sodden sleep, his black toes standing upright. Ona couch lay his valet, as deeply asleep. Basil waited breathlessly, then tried the edge of his knife on the dangling rope by which he had left and returned to the Citadel. Soundlessly he severed it and let it drop. ‘There was a scrap- ing as of mice as it fell. He carefully unknotted the free end still twisted about the bolt and dropped it also. But to don the jester’s cape with its bells and not awaken the em- peror was a more formidable task. For some time he remained behind the curtain, uncertain whether to dare ven- ture into that room and sit beside the bed as if he had sung Christophe to sleep as on the preceding night, or to leave his cape and work his way behind the curtains, then make a dash for the door. He was saved a decision by a peal of soft-voiced merry laughter which star- tled him. A woman’s voice rippled a sarabande of mirth, then moaned softly. Peering out he saw a white-robed figure with a death mask face staring pallidly horrible from the folds of white cloth. And it moaned again and whirled slowly, then darted to the bed and laid a slender hand on the face of Christophe. The black eyes of the emperor opened, dilated with horror, then his shriek roused the sleeping valet. = “Sans Souci—take him away. Get EOPMIE MOO KS (E@)