the law and the lady-第63节

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always　has　a　friendin　a　woman　or　a　dog。

I　sat　down　again　at　my　desk；　and　made　another　attempt　to　write　to
Mr。　Playmore。

Recalling；　for　the　purpose　of　my　letter；　all　that　Miserrimus
Dexter　had　said　to　me；　my　memory　dwelt　with　special　interest　on
the　strange　outbreak　of　feeling　which　had　led　him　to　betray　the
secret　of　his　infatuation　for　Eustace's　first　wife。　I　saw　again
the　ghastly　scene　in　the　death…chamberthe　deformed　creature
crying　over　the　corpse　in　the　stillness　of　the　first　dark　hours
of　the　new　day。　The　horrible　picture　took　a　strange　hold　on　my
mind。　I　arose；　and　walked　up　and　down；　and　tried　to　turn　my
thoughts　some　other　way。　It　was　not　to　be　done：　the　scene　was　too
familiar　to　me　to　be　easily　dismissed。　I　had　myself　visited　the
room　and　looked　at　the　bed。　I　had　myself　walked　in　the　corridor
which　Dexter　had　crossed　on　his　way　to　take　his　last　leave　of
her。

The　corridor？　I　stopped。　My　thoughts　suddenly　took　a　new
direction；　uninfluenced　by　any　effort　of　my　will。

What　other　association　besides　the　association　with　Dexter　did　I
connect　with　the　corridor？　Was　it　something　I　had　seen　during　my
visit　to　Gleninch？　No。　Was　it　something　I　had　read？　I　snatched　up
the　Report　of　the　Trial　to　see。　It　opened　at　a　page　which
contained　the　nurse's　evidence。　I　read　the　evidence　through
again；　without　recovering　the　lost　remembrance　until　I　came　to
these　lines　close　at　the　end：

　〃Before　bed…time　I　went　upstairs　to　prepare　the　remains　of　the
deceased　lady　for　the　coffin。　The　room　in　which　she　lay　was
locked；　the　door　leading　into　Mr。　Macallan's　room　being　secured；
as　well　as　the　door　leading　into　the　corridor。　The　keys　had　been
taken　away　by　Mr。　Gale。　Two　of　the　men…servants　were　posted
outside　the　bedroom　to　keep　watch。　They　were　to　be　relieved　at
four　in　the　morningthat　was　all　they　could　tell　me。〃

　There　was　my　lost　association　with　the　corridor！　There　was　what
I　ought　to　have　remembered　when　Miserrimus　Dexter　was　telling　me
of　his　visit　to　the　dead！

How　had　he　got　into　the　bedroomthe　doors　being　locked；　and　the
keys　being　taken　away　by　Mr。　Gale？　There　was　but　one　of　the
locked　doors　of　which　Mr。　Gale　had　not　got　the　keythe　door　of
communication　between　the　study　and　the　bedroom。　The　key　was
missing　from　this。　Had　it　been　stolen？　And　was　Dexter　the　thief？
He　might　have　passed　by　the　men　on　the　watch　while　they　were
asleep；　or　he　might　have　crossed　the　corridor　in　an　unguarded
interval　while　the　men　were　being　relieved。　But　how　could　he　have
got　into　the　bedchamber　except　by　way　of　the　locked　study　door？
He　_must_　have　had　the　key！　And　he　_must_　have　secreted　it　weeks
before　Mrs。　Eustace　Macallan's　death！　When　the　nurse　first
arrived　at　Gleninch；　on　the　seventh　of　the　month；　her　evidence
declared　the　key　of　the　door　of　communication　to　be　then　missing。

To　what　conclusion　did　these　considerations　and　discoveries
point？　Had　Miserrimus　Dexter；　in　a　moment　of　ungovernable
agitation；　unconsciously　placed　the　clew　in　my　hands？　Was　the
pivot　on　which　turned　the　whole　mystery　of　the　poisoning　at
Gleninch　the　missing　key？

I　went　back　for　the　third　time　to　my　desk。　The　one　person　who
might　be　trusted　to　find　the　answer　to　those　questions　was　Mr。
Playmore。　I　wrote　him　a　full　and　careful　account　of　all　that　had
happened；　I　begged　him　to　forgive　and　forget　my　ungracious
reception　of　the　advice　which　he　had　so　kindly　offered　to　me；　and
I　promised　beforehand　to　do　nothing　without　first　consulting　his
opinion　in　the　new　emergency　which　now　confronted　me。

The　day　was　fine　for　the　time　of　year；　and　by　way　of　getting　a
little　wholesome　exercise　after　the　surprises　and　occupations　of
the　morning；　I　took　my　letter　to　Mr。　Playmore　to　the　post。

Returning　to　the　villa；　I　was　informed　that　another　visitor　was
waiting　to　see　me：　a　civilized　visitor　this　time；　who　had　given
her　name。　My　mother…in…lawMrs。　Macallan。



CHAPTER　XXXVII。

AT　THE　BEDSIDE。

　BEFORE　she　had　uttered　a　word；　I　saw　in　my　mother…in…law's　face
that　she　brought　bad　news。

〃Eustace？〃　I　said。

She　answered　me　by　a　look。

〃Let　me　he　ar　it　at　once！〃　I　cried。　〃I　can　bear　anything　but
suspense。〃

Mrs。　Macallan　lifted　her　hand；　and　showed　me　a　telegraphic
dispatch　which　she　had　hitherto　kept　concealed　in　the　folds　of
her　dress。

〃I　can　trust　your　courage；〃　she　said。　〃There　is　no　need；　my
child；　to　prevaricate　with　you。　Read　that。〃

I　read　the　telegram。　It　was　sent　by　the　chief　surgeon　of　a
field…hospital；　and　it　was　dated　from　a　village　in　the　north　of
Spain。

〃Mr。　Eustace　severely　wounded　in　a　skirmish　by　a　stray　shot。　Not
in　danger；　so　far。　Every　care　taken　of　him。　Wait　for　another
telegram。〃

I　turned　away　my　face；　and　bore　as　best　I　might　the　pang　that
wrung　me　when　I　read　those　words。　I　thought　I　knew　how　dearly　I
loved　him：　I　had　never　known　it　till　that　moment。

My　mother…in…law　put　her　arm　round　me；　and　held　me　to　her
tenderly。　She　knew　me　well　enough　not　to　speak　to　me　at　that
moment。

I　rallied　my　courage；　and　pointed　to　the　last　sentence　in　the
telegram。

〃Do　you　mean　to　wait？〃　I　asked。

〃Not　a　day！〃　she　answered。　〃I　am　going　to　the　Foreign　Office
about　my　passportI　have　some　interest　there：　they　can　give　me
letters；　they　can　advise　and　assist　me。　I　leave　to…night　by　the
mail　train　to　Calais。〃

〃_You_　leave？〃　I　said。　〃Do　you　suppose　I　will　let　you　go　without
me？　Get　my　passport　when　you　get　yours。　At　seven　this　evening　I
will　be　at　your　house。〃

She　attempted　to　remonstrate；　she　spoke　of　the　perils　of　the
journey。　At　the　first　words　I　stopped　her。　〃Don't　you　know　yet；
mother；　how　obstinate　I　am？　They　may　keep　you　waiting　at　the
Foreign　Office。　Why　do　you　waste　the　precious　hours　here？〃

She　yielded　with　a　gentleness　that　was　not　in　her　everyday
character。　〃Will　my　poor　Eustace　ever　know　what　a　wife　he　has
got？〃　That　was　all　she　said。　She　kissed　me；　and　went　away　in　her
carriage。

　My　remembrances　of　our　journey　are　strangely　vague　and
imperfect。

As　I　try　to　recall　them；　the　memory　of　those　more　recent　and　more
interesting　events　which　occurred　after　my　return　to　England　gets
between　me　and　my　adventures　in　Spain；　and　seems　to　force　these
last　into　a　shadowy　background；　until　they　look　like　adventures
that　happened　many　years　since。　I　confusedly　recollect　delays　and
alarms　that　tried　our　patience　and　our　courage。　I　remember　our
finding　friends　（thanks　to　our　letters　of　recommendation）　in　a
Secretary　to　the　Embassy　and　in　a　Queen's　Messenger；　who　assisted
and　protected　us　at　a　critical　point　in　the　journey。　I　recall　to
mind　a　long　succession　of　men　in　our　employment　as　travelers；　all
equally　remarkable　for　their　dirty　cloaks　and　their　clean　linen；
for　their　highly　civilized　courtesy　to　women　and　their　utterly
barbarous　cruelty　to　horses。　Last；　and　most　important　of　all；　I
see　again；　more　clearly　than　I　can　see　anything　else；　the　one
wretched　bedroom　of　a　squalid　village　inn　in　which　we　found　our
poor　darling；　prostrate　between　life　and　death；　insensible　to
everything　that　passed　in　the　narrow　little　world　that　lay　around
his　bedside。

There　was　nothing　romantic　or　interesting　in　the　accident　which
had　put　my　husband's　life　in　peril。

He　had　ventured　too　near　the　scene　of　the　conflict　（a　miserable
affair）　to　rescue　a　poor　lad　who　lay　wounded　on　the
fieldmortally　wounded；　as　the　event　proved。　A　rifle…bullet　had
struck　him　in　the　body。　His　brethren　of　the　field…hospital　had
carried　him　back　to　their　quarters　at　the　risk　of　their　lives。　He
was　a　great　favorite　with　all　of　them；　patient　and　gentle　and
brave；　only　wanting　a　little　more　judgment　to　be　the　most
valuable　recruit　who　had　joined　the　brotherhood。

In　telling　me　this；　the　surgeon　kindly　and　delicately　added　a
word　of　warning　as　well。

The　fever　caused　by　the　wound　had　brought　with　it　delirium；　as
usual。　My　poor　husband's　mind；　in　so　far　as　his　wandering　words
might　interpret　it；　was　filled　by　the　one　image　of　his　wife。　The
medical　attendant　had　heard　enough　in　the　course　of　his
ministrations　at　the　bedside；　to　satisfy　him　that　any　sudden
recognition　of　me　by　Eustace　（if　he　recovered）　might　be　attended
by　the　most　lamentable　results。　As　things　were　at　that　sad　time；
I　might　take　my　turn　at　nursing　him；　without　the　slightest　chance
of　his　discovering　me；　perhaps　for　weeks　and　weeks　to　come。　But
on　the　day　when　he　was　declared　out　of　dangerif　that　happy　day
ever　arrivedI　must　resign　my　place　at　his　bedside；　and　must
wait　to　show　myself　until　the　surgeon　gave　me　leave。

My　mother…in…law　and　I　relieved　each　other　regularly；　day　and
night；　in　the　sick…room。

In　the　hours　of　his　deliriumhours　that　recurred　with　a　pitiless
regularitymy　name　was　always　on　my　poor　darling's　fevered　lips。
The　ruling　idea　in　him　was　the　fine　dreadful　idea　which　I　had
vainly　combated　at　our　last　interview。　In　the　face　of　the　verdict
pronounced　at　the　Trial；　it　was　impossible　even　for　his　wife　to
be　really　and　truly　persuaded　that　he　was　an　innocent　man。　All
the　wild　pictures　which　his　distempered　imagination　drew　were
equally　inspired　by　that　one　obstinate　conviction。　He　fancied
himself　to　be　still　living　with　me　under　those　dreaded
conditions。　Do　what　he　might；