Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

WITHOUT FEAR. the happiest of men!” He turned his head and insolently addressed De Sauvole. “ You will see that all arrangements are made for the ceremony, monsieur,”’ he commanded. ‘‘T myself will see the priest.” “ Father Douay is gone on a mission among the savages,’’ replied the governor. “TI know not when he will return. Come, monsieur—” “ And I would not marry you even were you to force me to my knees,” declared Felice spiritedly, despite her father’s ad- monitions to be silent. “ My love belongs to a man a thousandfold more worthy than you—monster!”’ “We will see about that at some later date,’ was Bourdelais’s sullen response as he angrily shook off De Sauvole’s detaining grip. “As for your Gascon lover—he will nevermore trouble you with his attentions! ”’ Felice straightened in her seat and her eyes opened in sudden terror at the exultant look on Bourdelais’s face. She had been vaguely alarmed at D’Albret’s prolonged absence even before she had sat down at the table—now a great fear oppressed her and her cheeks paled as she asked the question. “What do you mean, monsteur?” she gasped. Bourdelais shrugged his shoulders in a deprecatory manner. “The fellow attempted to robe me in my cabin this morning,” he replied, “and I was forced, in self-defense, to fell him to the floor. Unfortunately, my man Picard, had left open the trap-door leading to the hold through the floor of my cabin, into which he was in the habit of sweeping the dust from the room, and down this opening the Gascon fell, breaking his neck against the bottom of the ship.” Captain Paradis leaped astounded to his feet and Felice clung weakly to him. “Tt cannot be true!” she moaned, her eyes distraught and staring. ‘“ Oh, tell me, monsieur, that you jest!” Bourdelais shook his head regretfully. ‘“ Alas, I cannot! My servant, Picard, will tell you that I speak the truth,” he said. ‘ Picard—”’ “ Picard is dead!” Every eye was turned toward the door 205 from which came this astonishing interrup- tion and Bourdelais uttered an exclamation of terror as his drunkenness suddenly left him and he recognized the dapper figure of Antoine d’Albret! CHAPTER VIII. DISILLUSIONED. ITH a glad little cry Felice darted from her father’s side and threw herself into the arms of the smiling D’Albret, who patted her gently upon the shoulder ere he tenderly led her to her seat and faced the now suddenly sober Bour- delais. “ Your man, Picard, met with a most un- fortunate accident,” he said. ‘‘ He was leaning over the open trap in your room, Bourdelais with the evident intention of practising his marksmanship with a musket he carried, but when my faithful Rossignol realized that I, his master, was in danger of being wounded by an accidental shot from the man’s weapon, he remonstrated with Picard in a most pointed manner— and—er—Picard toppled over and expired —with regrettable haste. We tossed the body overboard, after André had lowered a rope to me and pulled me up from the filthy bilge in which I had been lying.” Bourdelais stared in dismayed incredulity into the Gascon’s amused countenance. “You—you were not dead!” he ejacu- lated. D’Albret chuckled as he patted his body for the other’s edification. “My whiskered friend,” he answered, “do I look dead? Tell me, do you think that a dead man could pull your ear as hard as that?” His hand darted to the other’s head and he wrenched at the ear with such violence as to cause the other to utter a sharp cry of pain. ‘““ Nay, Bourdelais,” retorted D’Albret, “ T am not dead—although the treacherous clout that your man Picard gave me this morning well-nigh broke my sconce. But tell me, my good fellow, did I not hear you insinuate that I entered your cabin for the purpose of robbing you?” COnnicoool. CO