Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 140: what you’re looking at

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

646 - had been some new and interesting type of religious fanatic. Then, concluding no doubt that tact would win more than force, and that there was more in this situation than met the eye, he said quietly: “Trooper Bunyan, ye will best serve your own ends, and the ends of all con- cerned mayhap, if ye exercise patience, even as I do, though I warn ye not to push mine too far. Let the maid speak. Ye will be given fair opportunity anon.” cc But—”’ “ Enough, I say!” And Cromwell’s fist came down on the table with a crash. Bunyan condescended to take a hint and subsided for the time being. Ruth Prynne then began her story. There was nothing new in it to me, where I had hoped I might learn something of those matters which were still more or less wrapped in mystery. I did observe, however, that as she spoke she glanced nervously in the direction of Jonas Slythey. Plainly she was more afraid of this man than she was of the great Noll; and Master Slythey kept eye- ing her in a manner which was less fearing than subtly threatening, I thought. Ruth merely stated that, of her certain knowledge, I had not aided the king in his escape; that, on the contrary, I had suffered the wound to my head in a rash attempt to capture the king single-handed. “ How say ye, lass?” Cromwell asked sharply, while the two colonels exchanged glances of amazement. “ Tried to capture the king single-handed?”’ ‘‘ Even so,” said Ruth simply, and she proceeded to describe the manner of it. ‘ And where, prithee,” asked Cromwell when she had done; “ where happened all this?”’ Ruth ened pale and stared in dumb misery at Cromwell. “ Sir—” the “ great instrument ” began again. “ Silence! !’? Cromwell roared, this time in a mighty fury. His eyes flashed back to ‘Ruth Prynne and he said, half to himself: ‘Now we come to the marrow of this bone. Where, maid, did these things hap- pen? In what house—place?”’ Digitize 1» Google — ce oo 7 Oe ae ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Sfill she did not answer, and her eyes fell away from Cromwell’s intent gaze to the floor. In that moment, while Cromwell seemed to be turning over in his mind a possible reason for her refusal to answer—that she was sheltering the principal, perhaps, even as I was—I saw Slythey in the act of whis- pering in Ruth’s ear. Where I stood, with only the maid’s head between my ear and Slythey’s lips, I heard what he whispered quite clearly, although Cromwell himself was too preoccupied with his tHoughts to observe the passage. ‘““ Hast cleaned the mud from thy shoes and thy mistress’s?” the turncoat whis- pered. It was a moment or two before that breath of speech carried any significance to me; then the meaning flashed, a sudden, great illumination. Slythey had overseen the burial of old Henry Falconer—in the manor garden, no doubt, and by these two women. A strange task for fair hands; yet I could see how they had not dared summon outside help if they hoped to con- ceal the rest of the manor’s secret. I could understand now why Ruth feared Slythey in this hour. Whatever she knew about him—for probably she understood why he had persecuted her mistress—he, in turn, held a card against her in the play. _ It was characteristic of Cromwell that, gaining no direct answer to his direct ques- tion, he threatened no force but presently motioned the maid to stand aside. Then he looked at Jolm Bunyan and said: “ Now, ye wind-bag! Lest ye burst, let scape some of thy matter.” So saying, he sat back in his chair like one resigned to the inevitable, but clearly with the intention of gleaning what grain he might from the mass of chaff. To my surprise, John, once he had the floor to himself, was not a bit garrulous. On the other hand, I was not surprised that he told the whole story, as he knew it, without regard for anybody’s safety —ex- cept mine. He seemed to have but two ideas in his honest head: first, that I must be saved from the gallows at any cost; second, that oO DOO