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Pulp Fiction, 1907 · page 136 of 228

The Argosy, March 1907 — page 136: what you’re looking at

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The Argosy, March 1907 — page 136: Pulp Fiction, 1907

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wt Be) WS oak a eee aby he 4 ce ee eA So ~~ a3 708 vt as ~A7 >? ’ fi wet 4a “What dc yer stammered the king, k's «loodless cheeks turning’a greenish hue, and his eyes biaking nerv- ously. ‘““T mean, your majes.*, “f you are ‘your majesty, that -here are grave doubts in Nordinia as to whether you are really the king. here ar those who say that you are nothing more than an impostor.” “Your highness:°’ cried the aged premier in dismay. “Who says tnat? It’s a lie!” stam- mered the king. ‘There are “any who make the charge and deciaz~ that they can _ pro- duce proofs,” went on the pi.uics.s, noting that the king’s eyes could aot meet hers. ‘‘ There are men in America who know the real Carl Richard Felix, and who will swear that you and he are two very different persons af “Your highness! Your highness!” cried the premier aghast. ‘“ What are you saying? Oh, take care what you are saying!” ‘IT am saying what is the truth,” cried the princess excitedly. “ Before, I only suspected that this fellow was an im- postor, but I am sure of it now. Look at his face, baron. Look at his face! See how his eyes avoid mine. Let him look me in the eyes and swear that he is Carl Richard Felix, the rightful King of Nordinia.”’ The muscles of the _ king’s face twitched convulsively. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but the words would not come. : ‘Let him look me in the eyes and swear that he is the real King of Nor- repeated the Princess Cornelia, ““Be=can t-do- at. He dinia,”’ triumphantly. can’t do it.” The wretched man pointed a shaking finger toward the aged Baron Zagart. ‘“ Ask him,” he gasped. “ He knows. I gave him proofs.” “You gave him manufactured proofs,” said the princess scornfully. “ You im- postor! Your looks betray you. You are not the king. I know it now. I am sure of it.” The denounced man, still avoiding the eyes of the princess, pointed a trembling finger to his right shoulder. ““T bear the mark here which proves THE ARGOSY. me the rightful king,” he gasped. ‘f The Baron Zagart knows it.” “Yes, your majesty,” fied premier. ‘‘ Pardon the princess for what she says. lier highness is not her- self. She does not mean what she says. She is unnerved by the terrible death of Baron Duval.” As he uttered the name, the king uttered a loud cry. * Duval! Duval!” he shrieked in an- guish. ‘‘ Why did you leave me? Oh, why did you leave me here alone? I can’t go on with this thing now. I can’t keep it up. I thought I could, but I can’t. I haven’t got the courage.” He fell from his chair to the floor and groveled at the feet of the princess, a terrible spectacle. “Have mercy!” he moaned. ‘TI will confess everything. I am not the king.” ‘Who are you, then?” asked the prin- cess, her voice full of scorn. “ Forgive me. I am Anton Gaspard —the son of Carl Gaspard,” replied the wretched man. “Anton Gaspard!” cried the aged baron in horror. ‘‘ Good Heaven! the son of my discharged valet! The son of a lackey I dismissed for theft!” CHAPTER XXITI. CONFESSION. For a full minute a tense silence pre- vailed. Even the princess was too much surprised to be able to utter a word. She glanced at the premier. Tears of mortification stood in the old man’s eyes © and his hands trembled. Finally the princess found her voice. ‘“Shali [ summon the guard and have him arrested?” she asked, turning to Baron Zagart. ‘‘ Have ‘mercy! ” pleaded the wretched impostor, still groveling on the floor. The princess took a step toward the bell-cord. “ Stop!” cried the premier. “ Be careful, your highness. Do not do any- thing rash, or the consequences may be terrible. If this awful scandal leaks out there will be a revolution. The son of a valet—the son of a thief—on the throne of Nordinia! Oh, great Heavens, { 7? how horrible! EOPMICLOOO cried the horri- <SiiGO mM