The Fatal House..................................................................................................................................................1

Hugh Conway..........................................................................................................................................1

Once in a moment of confidence, I made a friend acquainted with some curious circumstances connected

with one period of my life. I believe I asked him to hold his tongue about themhe says not. Any way, he

told another friend, with embellishments, I suspect; this friend told another, and so on and on. What the tale

grew to at last I shall probably never learn; but since I was weak enough to trust my private affairs to another

I have been looked upon by my neighbors as a man with a historyone who has a romance hidden away

For myself I should not trouble about this. I should laugh at the garbled versions of my story set floating

about by my own indiscretion. It would matter little to me that one good friend has an idea that I was once a

Communist and a member of the inner circle of a secret societythat another has heard that I have been tried

on a capital chargethat another knows I was at one time a Roman Catholic, on whose behalf a special

miracle was performed. If I were alone in the world and young, I dare say I should take no steps to still these

idle rumors. Indeed, very young men feel flattered by being made objects of curiosity and speculation.

But I am not very young, nor am I alone. There is one who is dearer to me than life itself. One from whose

heart, I am glad to say, every shadow left by the past is rapidly fadingone who only wishes to live her true

sweet life without mystery or concealmentwishes to be thought neither better nor worse than she really is.

It is she who shrinks from the strange and absurd reports which are flying about as to our antecedents she

who is vexed by those leading questions sometimes asked by inquisitive friends; and it is for her sake that I

look up old journals, call back old memories of joy and grief, and tell every one, who cares to read, all he can

possibly wish to know, and, it may be, more than he has a right to know, of our lives. This done, my lips are

sealed forever on the subject. My tale is herelet the inquisitive take his answer from it, not from me.

Perhaps, after all, I write this for my own sake as well. I also hate mysteries. One mystery which I have never

been able to determine may have given me a dislike to every thing which will not admit of an easy

To begin, I must go back more years than I care to enumerate; although I could, if necessary, fix the day and

the year. I was young, just past twentyfive. I was rich, having when I came of age succeeded to an income

of about two thousand a year; an income which, being drawn from the funds, I was able to enjoy with out

responsibility or anxiety as to its stability and endurance. Although since my twentyfirst birthday I had been

my own master, I no extravagant follies to weigh me down, no debts to hamper me. I was without bodily ache

or pain; yet I turned again and again on my pillow and said that my life for the future was a curse to me.

Had Death just robbed me of one who was dear to me? No; the only ones I had ever loved, my father and

mother, had died years ago. Were my ravings those peculiar to an unhappy lover? No; my eyes had not yet

looked with passion into a woman's eyesand now would never do so. Neither Death nor Love made my lot

I was young, rich, free as the wind to follow my own devices. I could leave England tomorrow and visit the

most beautiful places on the earth: those places I had longed and determined to see. Now, I knew I should

My limbs were strong. I could bear fatigue and exposure. I could hold my own with the best walkers and the

swiftest runners. The chase, the sport, the trial of endurance had never been too long or too arduous for

meI passed my left hand over my right arm and felt the muscles firm as of old. Yet I was as helpless as

Blind! Who but the victim can even faintly comprehend the significance of that word? Who can read this and

gauge the depth of my anguish as I turned and turned on my pillow and thought of the fifty years of darkness

which might be minea thought which, made me wish that when I fell asleep it might be to wake no more?

Blind! After hovering around me for years the demon of darkness had at last laid his hand upon me. After

letting me, for a while, almost cheat myself into security, he had swept down upon me, folded me in his sable

wings and blighted my life. Fair forms, sweet sights, bright colors, gay scenes mine no more! He claimed

them all, leaving darkness, darkness, ever darkness! Far better to die, and, it may be, wake in a new world of

light"Better," I cried in my despair, "better even the dull red glare of Hades than the darkness of the

This last gloomy thought of mine shows the state of mind to which I was reduced.

The truth is that, in spite of hope held out to me, I had resolved to be hopeless. For years I had felt that my

foe was lying in wait for me. Often when gazing on some beautiful object, some fair scene, the right to enjoy

which made one fully appreciate the gift of sight, a whisper seemed to reach my ear"Some day I will strike

again, then it will be all over." I tried to laugh at my fears, but could never quite get rid of the presentiment of

Well I can remember his first appearancehis first attack. I remember a lighthearted schoolboy so

engrossed in sport and study that he scarcely noticed how strangely dim the sight of one eye was getting, or

the curious change which was taking place in its appearance. I remember the boy's father taking him to

London, to a large dulllooking house in a quiet dull street I remember our waiting in a room in which were

several other people; most of whom had shades or bandages over their eyes. Such a doleful gathering it was

that I felt much relieved when we were conducted to another room in which sat a kind, pleasantspoken man,

called by my father Mr. Jay. This eminent man, after applying something which I know now was belladonna

to my eyes, and which had the effect for a short time of wonderfully improving my sight, peered into my eyes

by the aid of strong lenses and mirrorsI remember at the time wishing some of those lenses were

minewhat splendid burning glasses they would make! Then he placed me with my back to the window and

held a lighted candle before my face. All these proceedings seemed so funny that I was half inclined to laugh.

My father's grave, anxious face alone restrained me from so doing. As soon as Mr. Jay had finished his

"Hold the candle as I held it. Let it shine into the right eye first. Now, Mr. Vaughan, what do you see? How

"This is called the catoptric test, an oldfashioned but infallible test, now almost superseded. The boy is

This terribly sounding name took away all my wish to laugh. I glanced at my father and was surprised to

"Certainly; but in my judgment it is not well to meddle, so long as the other eye remains unaffected."

"There is always danger of the disease appearing in the sound eye; but, of course, it may not happen. Come to

The great specialist bowed us out, and I returned to my school life, troubling little about the matter, as it

caused me no pain, and, although in less than a twelvemonth the sight of one eye was completely obscured,

But I remembered every word of that diagnosis, although it was years before I recognized the importance of

it. It was only when compelled by an accident to wear for some days a bandage over my sound eye that I

realized the danger in which I stood, and from that moment felt that a merciless foe was ever waiting his

And now the time had come. In the first flush of my manhood, with all that one could wish for at my

He came upon me swiftlyfar more swiftly than is his custom in such cases; yet it was long before I would

believe the worstlong before I would confess to myself that my failing sight and the increasing fogginess

of everything I looked at were due to more than a temporary weakness. I was hundreds of miles from home,

in a country where travelling is slow. A friend being with me, I had no wish to make myself a nuisance by

cutting our expedition short. So I said nothing for weeks, although at the end of each week my heart sank at

the fresh and fearful advances made by the foe. At last, being unable to bear it, or in fact conceal it longer, I

made known my condition to my comrade. We turned our faces homeward, and by the time London was

reached and the long journey at an end, everything to me was blurred, dim, and obscured. I could just see,

I flew to the eminent oculist's. He was out of town. Had been ill, even at the point of death. He would not be

back for two months, nor would he see any patient until his health was quite restored.

I had pinned my faith upon this man. No doubt there were as skilful oculists in London, Paris, or other

capitals; but it was my fancy that, if I were to be saved, I could only be saved by Mr. Jay. Dying men are

allowed their whims: even the felon about to be hanged can choose his own breakfast, so I had an undoubted

right to choose my own surgeon. I resolved to wait in darkness until Mr. Jay returned to his duties. I was

foolish. I had better have trusted myself in other clever hands. Before a month was over I had lost all hope,

and at the end of six weeks I was almost distracted. Blind, blind, blind! I should be blind forever! So entirely

had I lost heart that I began to think I would not have the operation performed at all. Why fly against fate?

For the rest of my life I was doomed to darkness. The subtlest skill, the most delicate hand, the most modern

appliances would never restore the light I have lost. For me the world was at an end.

Now that you know the cause, can you not imagine me, after weeks of darkness, broken in spirit, and, as I lay

sleepless that night, almost wishing that the alternative refused by Jobto curse God and diewere mine?

If you are unable to realize my condition, read the above to any one who has lost his sight. He will tell you

what his feelings were when the calamity first came upon him. He will understand the depths of I was not left

entirely alone in my trouble. Like Job, I had comforters: but, unlike Eliphaz and Company, they were

goodhearted fellows who spoke with cheerful conviction as to the certainty of my recovery. I was not so

grateful for these visits as I should have been. I hated the thought of any one seeing me in my helpless

condition. Day by day my frame of mind grew more and more desponding and morbid.

My best friend of all was a humble one: Priscilla Drew, an old and trusted servant of my mother's. She had

known me from earliest childhood. When I returned to England I could not bear the thought of trusting my

helpless self entirely to a stranger's care, so I wrote to her and begged her to come to me. I could at least

groan and lament before her without feeling shame. She came, wept over me for a while, and then, like a

sensible woman, bestirred herself to do all she could to mitigate the hardships of my lot. She found

comfortable lodgings, installed her troublesome charge therein, and day and night was ever at his beck and

call. Even now, as I lay awake and tossing in mental anguish, she was sleeping on an extemporized bed just

It was a stifling night in August. The sluggish air which crept in through the open window made little

perceptible difference in the temperature of my room Everything seemed still, hot, and dark. The only sound I

could hear was the regular breathing of the sleeper behind the door, which she had left an inch or two ajar in

order that she might catch my faintest call. I had gone early to bed. What had I to wait up for now? It was

sleep and sleep alone which brought forgetfulness, but tonight sleep refused to come to me. I struck my

repeater. I had bought one in order that I might at least know the time. The little bell told me it was just past

Presently a sudden fierce longing to be out of doors came over me. It was nightvery few people would be

about. There was a broad pavement in front of the row of houses in one of which I lodged. Up and down this

I might walk in perfect safety. Even if I only sat on the doorstep it would be better than lying in this close hot

The desire took such full possession of me that I was on the point of calling old Priscilla and making her

aware of it; but knowing she was sleeping soundly, I hesitated. I had been unusually restless, cross, and

exacting during the day, and my old nurseheaven reward her!was serving me for love, not for money.

Why should I disturb her? Let me begin to learn to help myself like others in my wretched plight. I had

already acquired this much, to dress without assistance. If I could now do this and leave the room unheard, I

could, I felt sure, grope my way to the front door, let myself out, and, whenever I chose, return by the aid of

the latchkey. The thought of even a temporary independence was attractive, and my spirits rose as I resolved

I crept softly from my bed and slowly, but easily dressed myself, hearing all the while the sleeper's regular

breathing. Then, cautious as a thief, I stole to the door which led from my bedroom to the landing. I opened

it without noise and stood on the thick carpet outside, smiling as I thought of the sleeper's dismay if she

awoke and discovered my absence. I closed the door, then, guiding myself by the balustrade, passed lightly

There were other lodgers in the house, among them young men who came in at all hours, so, the door being

always left on the latch, I had no bolts to contend with. In a moment I was on the doorstep, with the door

I stood for a short lime irresolute, almost trembling at my temerity. This was the first time I had ventured

beyond the house without a guiding hand to trust to. Yet I knew there was nothing to fear. The streeta quiet

onewas deserted. The pavement was broad, I could walk up and down without let or hindrance, guiding

myself, after the manner of other blind persons, by tapping my stick against the curbstone or the railings Still

I must take a few precautions to enable me to ascertain my latitude and longitude at will.

I came down the four steps which led from the front door, turned myself to the right, and, by aid of the line of

railings, set my face toward the end of the street. Then I began to walk and to count my steps, sixtytwo of

which brought my right foot on to a road, which told me I had reached my limit. I turned, counted back the

sixtytwo paces, and then sixtyfive more in the same direction before I found myself again off the

pavement. My calculations were verified by my knowing that my house was very nearly in the centre of the

row. I was now quite at my ease; I had determined the length of my tether; I could walk up and down the

deserted street, yet, at any time I wished to do so, could, by counting from either end, arrest my steps in front

So, mightily proud of my success, for a while I went up and downup and down. I heard one or two cabs

pass me, and also one or two persons afoot. As these latter seemed to pay no attention to me, I felt glad to

think that my appearance and gait were not such as to attract notice. Most men like to conceal their

This night excursion did me a great deal of good. Perhaps it was finding that I was not altogether so helpless

and dependent that changed in a few minutes my whole frame of mind. The mental rebound took place. I

went from despondency to hopeextravagant hopeeven to certainty. Like a revelation it came to me that

my malady was curable; that, in spite of my presentiment, what friends had been assuring me would prove to

be the truth. So elated I grew that I threw my head back and walked with a firm quick step, almost forgetting

that I was sightless. I began to think of many things, and my thoughts were happier ones than I had known for

months. I gave up counting my paces, I walked on and on, planning what I should do; where I should go

when my darkness was removed. I do not know whether I may have at times guided myself by the wall or

pavement edge; but if so I did it mechanically and instinctively, without noticing the action or remembering it

I cannot say whether it may be possible for a blind man, who can divest himself of the fear of encountering

unseen obstacles, to walk as straightly and accurately as one who can see. I only know that, in my

preoccupied and elevated state of mind, I must have done so. Intoxicated and carried away by the return of

hope, I may have walked as a somnambulist or as one in a trance. Any way, forgetful of all save my brighter

thoughts, I went on and on, heedless of the missing sense, until coming full against a person walking in the

opposite direction recalled me from my visions and brought me back to my misery I felt the man I had

encountered shake himself free; I heard him mutter "stupid fool!" and go swiftly on his way, leaving me

motionless on the spot where the collision had occurred, wondering where I was and what I should do.

It was no use attempting to find my way back unaided. Not having brought my repeater with me I could not

even say how long I had been walking. It might have been ten minutes, it might have been an hour since I

gave up counting my steps. Judging by the number of things I had thought of since that rapturous exaltation

of mind commenced it seemed more likely to be the latter. Now that I had come back to the earth I must be

content to remain on this particular spot of it until I heard the step of a policeman or some one else who might

happen to be abroad at this unusual hourunusual, at least in this quiet part of London. I leaned my back

I soon heard an approaching step; but such a staggering, uncertain, lurching kind of step, that from the sound

of the feet alone I was able to determine the condition of their owner, and was obliged to decide that he was

not the man I wanted. I must let him pass and wait for another. But the feet staggered up to me and stopped

"'Nother feller worsh than me! Can't get on at all eh, old chap? Comfort t' think some one's head 'll ache

"Can you tell me the way to Walpole Street?" I asked, standing erect to show him I was sober.

"If you are going that way would you lead me to the corner of it. Unhappily I am blind and have lost my

"Blind, poor beggarnot screwed then. Guess I'm in nice state to lead any one. Blind leading blindboth

tumble into ditch. I shay, though," he added with drunken gravity, "make a bargainI lend you eyes, you

"No, thank you. Please put my hand on the railing of the corner house. I shall be all right then."

"Wish I were all right. Wish I could borrow your legs to take me home," said my bibulous conductor. "Good

I was not quite certain as to which end of Walpole Street I was starting from; that mattered little. Either

sixtytwo or sixtyfive paces would leave me in front of my door. I counted sixtytwo, and then felt for the

entrance between the railings; not finding it, I went on a step or two until I came to it. I was glad to have

reached home without accident, and, to tell the truth, was beginning to feel a little ashamed of my escapade. I

hoped that Priscilla had not discovered my absence and alarmed the house, and I trusted I should be able to

regain my room as quietly as I had quitted it. With all my elaborate calculations, I was not quite sure that I

had hit upon the right house; but if they were incorrect I could only be a door or two away from it, and the

key in my hand would be a certain test. I went up the doorstepswas it four or five I had counted as I came

out? I fumbled for the keyhole and inserted the latchkey. It turned easily, and the door opened. I had not made

a mistake. I felt an inward glow of satisfaction at having hit upon the house at the first attempt. "It must have

been a blind man who first discovered that Necessity is the mother of Invention," I said, as I softly closed the

door behind me and prepared to creep up to my own room. I wondered what the time was. All I knew was

that it must be still night, for I was able to distinguish light from darkness. As I had found myself so close to

Walpole Street I could not have walked for any length of time in my ecstatic state, so I fancied it must be

Even more anxious than when I started to make no noise which might awaken people, I found the bottom of

Somehow, blind as I was, the place seemed unfamiliar to me. The balustrade I was touching did not seem the

same. The very texture of the carpet under my feet seemed different. Could it be possible that I had entered

the wrong house? There are plenty of instances on record of a key having opened a strange lock. Could I,

through such a circumstance, have strayed into a neighbor's house? I paused; the perspiration rising on my

brow as I thought of the awkward situation in which I should be placed if it were so. For a moment I resolved

to retrace my steps and try the next house; but I could not be quite sure I was wrong. Then I remembered that

in my own house a bracket, with a plaster figure upon it, hung near the top of the stairs. I knew the exact

place, having been cautioned many times to keep my head by going on and feeling for this landmark; so on I

I ran my fingers softly along the wall, but no bracket could I find. My hand touched the lintel of a door

instead. Then I knew, for certain, I was in the wrong house. The only thing to be done was to creep out as

quietly as I had entered and try my luck next door. As I turned to grope my way back I heard the murmur of

voiceslate as it was, there were people talking in the room, the door of which my fingers had so lightly

I could not distinguish words, but I was sure the voices were those of men. I stood irresolute. Would it not be

better to knock at the door and throw myself upon the mercy of the inmates of the room? I could apologize

and explain. My blindness would account for the mistake. Some one would, no doubt, be kind enough to put

me on my right road home. Yes, this was the best thing to do. I could not go on creeping into strange houses

like a midnight thief. Perhaps each house in the row had an equally common lock and my key might open all.

If so, the end would be that some alarmed householder would put a bullet into me before I had time to assert

Just as I raised my fingers to tap at the door I heard another voicea woman's voice. It seemed to come from

the back room and was singing to an accompaniment played softly on a piano. I paused and listened

I have been so occupied with complaining of the hardship of my lot I have not told you I had one solace to

my misery; that merciful gift, so often bestowed on the blind, music. Had it not been for this I believe those

weeks of darkness and uncertainty would have driven me mad. Had it not been that I could pass many weary

hours away playing to myself, that I could be taken to concerts and hear others play and sing, my days would

have been unbearable, and I shudder to think of what aid I might have called in to render them less

I waited and listened to the song. It was taken from an opera recently produced on the Continent, an opera not

yet popularly known in England, and the song was one that few amateurs would dare to attempt. The singer,

whoever she might be, sang it softly and under her voice, as though fearing to throw it out with full force.

The lateness of the hour might well account for this restraint. Nevertheless, any one capable of judging must

have known he was listening to no ordinary singer. It was easy to recognize the trained skill and dormant

power, and imagine what, under favorable circumstances, that voice might accomplish. I was enchanted. My

idea was that I had stumbled into a nest of professionalspeople whose duties ended so late, that to enjoy an

evening at all, night must be greatly encroached upon. All the better for me! Bohemians themselves, my

The singer had now commenced the second verse. I placed my ear close to the door to catch every note. I was

curious to hear what she would make of the effective but trying finale, whenoh horrible contrast to the soft

sweet liquid notes and subdued words of passionate love!I heard a gasp, a spasmodic, fearful gasp, that

could convey but one meaning. I heard it succeeded by a long deep groan, which terminated in a gurgling

sound which froze my blood. I heard the music stop suddenly, and the cry, the piercing cry of a woman ring

out like a frightful change from melody to discord, and then I heard a dull heavy thud on the floor!

I waited to hear no more. I knew that some dreadful deed had been perpetrated within a few feet of where I

stood. My heart beat wildly and fiercely. In the excitement of the moment I forgot that I was not like

othersforgot that strength and courage could avail me nothingforgot everything save a desire to prevent

the accomplishment of crimethe wish to do a man's duty in saving life and succoring the ones in peril. I

threw open the door and rushed headlong into the room. Then, as I became aware of the presence of strong

light, but light which revealed nothing to me, the folly and rashness of my proceedings came fully home to

me, and like a flash it crossed my mind that unarmed, blind and helpless, I had rushed into that room to meet

I heard an oathan exclamation of surprise. In the distance I heard the cry of the woman, but it sounded

muffled and faint; it seemed to me that a struggle was going on in that part of the room. Powerless though I

was to aid, I turned impulsively and took a couple of steps in the direction whence the cry came; my foot

caught in something and I fell prostrate on the body of a man. Even in the midst of the horror that awaited me

I shuddered as I felt my hand, lying on the fallen man, grow wet with some warm fluid which slowly trickled

Before I could rise strong muscular living hands were upon my throat, holding me down, whilst a short

distance off I heard the sharp click of a pistol lock. Oh, for a light for a second! If only to see those who were

about to take my life, if onlystrange fancyto know in what part of me to expect the fatal bullet And I,

who some hour or two ago lay and dared to wish for death, felt at this moment that life, even my darkened

life, was as dear to me as to any creature under the sun. So, I cried aloud, and my voice sounded to me like

The hands pinning me down did not for an instant relax their grasp; yet they might safely have done so.

Situated as I was I felt that my only chance of life was to lie still and convince, if I could, the persons in that

room of the truth of my assertion. Nothing could be gained, but everything would be lost by resistance. I was

strong, but, even if all the senses had been mine, I doubted if I could compete successfully with the man who

held me down. I could feel the nervous power of his hands and arms. Certainly, now that I was blind and

helpless, the struggle would be a short one. Besides he had companions, how many I knew not, ready, to help

him. The first movement I made would be the end of everything so far as I was concerned.

I made no further attempt to rise, but lay as still and unresisting as the prostrate form across which had fallen.

Think of my situation. A blind man in a strange room in a strange househeld down on the body of a man

whose last groan he had just heardheld down and at the mercy of those who it was certain had just taken

part in a black and cowardly crime! Unable to look into the faces of the murderers around him and learn

whether their looks meant life or death to him! Expecting every moment to feel the sharp stab of a knife or

the fiery sting of a bullet! Seeing nothing and feeling nothing save the hands upon his throat and the dead

body beneath him! Even hearing nothing save that stifled moaning in the distance! Can the wildest flights of

Since that night I have quite disbelieved in the possibility of people's hair turning suddenly gray. If such a

I can only say that even now, as, after the lapse of years, I write this; even as I see everything around me safe,

still, and at peace; even though I know the ones I love are close at hand, my pen trembles, my, blood feels

chilled, and a faintness steals over me as the recollection of the most terrible moments in my life comes to me

with a vividness I cannot describe. It was well for me that I could keep still and cry again and again "I am

blindlook and see!" My quiescence, the tone of my voice, may have turned the balance on which my life

hungmay have carried conviction to my hearers. Presently the strong light of a lamp was perceptible to my

obscured vision; a lamp placed so close to me that I could feel its hot glow upon my face; and I was aware

that some one was stooping or kneeling down and peering into my eyes His breath struck against my cheek: a

short, quick, excited breathhow could it be otherwise after the deed in which he had just taken part!

At last he rose; a moment afterward the restraining hands moved from me, and then, for the first time, I began

As yet none of those around me had spoken. Now I heard voices, but whispering so softly that even my

sharpened ears could not catch the purport of a single word, although I could gather that three persons at least

All the while, like a dreary and fitting accompaniment, I could hear that stifled moaninga woman's

moaning I would have given all I possessedall save lifein exchange for a minute's sight, that I might

Still the whispers continued. They came thick and fast, running into and interrupting each other, as from men

in hot but guarded discussion. It needed little intelligence to guess the subject of that debate! Presently they

died away altogether, and, for a time, the only sound I heard was that terrible, muffled moanthat continued

A foot touched me. "You may stand up," I heard some one say. When I burst so recklessly into the room I

fancied the exclamation with which I was greeted came from foreign lips, but the man who now addressed

me spoke in pure English. By this time I was beginning to recover selfpossession and was able to make a

Thankful at being allowed to quit my ghastly couch, I rose. As I could think of nothing better to do I stood

"Walk this waystraight onfour paces," said the voice. I obeyed. The third step brought me in collision

with the wall. No doubt this was an extra test as to the truth of my statement. A hand was placed upon my

shoulder and I was guided to a chair. "Now, sir," said the speaker who had before addressed me, "tell us, in as

few words as possible, who you arehow and why you came here. Be quick, we have no time to spare."

I well knew they had no time to spare. They had much to domuch to hide. Oh, for the gift of sight for one

Shortly and simply as I could, I told them what had brought me into such straits. The only thing I concealed

was my true name. Why should these assassins know it? If I revealed it they might set a watch upon me and

at any moment their safety demanded it I might share the fate of him who lay within a few feet of my chair.

All the while I was speaking I heard that distressing sound at the other end of the room. It drove me nearly

mad. I believe could I have made sure of reaching through my darkness and catching one of those men by the

throat, with the certainty of crushing life out of him, I should have done so, even had such an act sealed my

When my explanation was over another whispered consultation took place. Then the spokesman demanded

the key which had so nearly cost me my life I suppose they tried it and found it acted as I said it was not

"Fortunately for you we have decided to believe your tale. Stand up." I did so and was led to another part of

the room and again placed in a chair. As, after the manner of the blind, I stretched out my hands, I found I

"If you move or look around," said the voice, "our belief in your blindness will vanish."

It was impossible to misunderstand the grim threat conveyed by the last words. I could only sit quiet and

Yes, they had much to do. They moved about busily and rapidly. I heard cupboards and drawers opened I

detected the sound of papers being torn and the smell of papers burning. I heard them raise some dead weight

from the floorheard a sound as of rent cloth and linenheard the jingle of money, even the tick of a watch

as it was drawn forth from somewhere and laid on the table near me. Then I felt a breath of air and knew that

the door had been opened. I heard heavy footsteps on the stairsthe steps of men bearing a weighty burden,

Before the last task was completed the woman's moan had ceased. For some time it had been growing fainter

and only sounding at recurring intervals. Now I heard it no longer. This cessation was a great relief to my

overwrought nerves, but my heart grew sick as I thought it may be there were two victims instead of one.

Although at least two men must have borne that weight away, I knew I was not left alone. I heard some one

throw himself into a chair with a half weary sigh and guessed he had been left to guard me. I was longing to

make my escapelonging to wake and find I had been dreaming. The suspense or the nightmare was

I heard the man move in his chair, but he made no answer. "May I not go?" I pleaded. "I have seen nothing.

Byandby the absent men returned to their companion. I heard the door close after them. Then came more

whispers, and I heard the drawing of a cork and the jingle of glasses. They were refreshing themselves after

Presently a curious odorthat of some drug was perceptible. A hand was laid on my shoulder and a glass

I heard a short harsh laugh and felt a cold metallic ring laid against my forehead.

"It is not poison; it is an opiate and will do you no harm. But this," and as be spoke I felt the pressure of of

I drained the glass and was glad to feel the pistol moved from my head. "Now," said the spokesman, taking

the empty glass from my hand, "if you are a wise man, when you awake tomorrow you will say, 'I have

been drunk or dreaming.' You have heard us but not seen us, but remember we know you."

He left me and in a short time, do what I would to struggle against it, heavy drowsiness came over me.

Thoughts grew incoherent and reason seemed leaving me. My head fell first on one side, then on the other.

The last thing I can remember is a strong arm encircling me and keeping me from tumbling out of my chair.

For hours and hours it held me senseless, and when at last its power faded and my mind, struggling back to a

clouded sort of consciousness, made, after many attempts, the fact apparent to me that I was lying on a bed,

and, moreover, as I found by stretching out my arms and feeling around, my own bed, is it to be wondered at

that I said to myself, "I have dreamed the most frightful dream that ever came to a tormented mind." After

this effort of mind I sank back once more in a semiconscious state, but fully persuaded I had never quitted

Yet if my mind grew easy, I cannot say the same for the body. My head seemed preparing to split in two; my

tongue was dry and parched. These unpleasant facts became more and more noticeable as consciousness

gradually returned. J sat up in the bed and pressed my hands to my throbbing brows.

"Oh, dear heart!" I heard my old nurse say, "he is coming round at last." Then another voicea man's voice,

"Yes, your master will soon be well again. Kindly let me feel your pulse, Mr. Vaughan."

"A few hours only. There is nothing to be alarmed at. Lie down again and keep quiet for a while. Are you

"Now, nurse," I heard the doctor say, "make him some weak tea, and when he wants anything to eat let him

Doctor Deane was shown out, and old Priscilla, returning to my bedside, patted and punched the pillows to

make me more comfortable. By this time I was wide awake and the experiences of the night were coming

"Nigh upon noon, Master Gilbert." Priscilla spoke in a sorrowful, injured manner.

The old servant was weeping. I could hear her. She made no answer, so I repeated my question.

"Oh, Master Gilbert!" she sobbed, " how could you do it? When I came into the room and saw the empty bed

"How could you do it, Master Gilbert?" continued Priscilla. "To go out without a word, and wander half over

She had not yet quite aired her grievance. "If you wanted to get tipsy or to take any of them stuffs to send you

to sleep and make you insensible, you might have done it at home, Master Gilbert. I shouldn't have minded

It was not until she saw I was getting quite angry that her tongue would consent to run pretty straight and

when I heard her account of what had occurred my head was whirling. This is what she told me

It must have been about an hour after my stealthy exit that she awoke. She put her ear to the door to make

certain that I was asleep and wanting nothing. Hearing no sound of life in my room she entered it, and found

the bed untenanted and me gone. Probably she was even more frightened than she owned to being. She knew

all about my despondency and complainings of the last few days, and I have no doubt but her first fear was

that I had destroyed myself. She started in search of me, and at once recognizing the impossibility of finding

me without assistance, turned to that first and last resource of an Englishwoman in such a difficultythe

Police. Having told her tale at the nearest station, and by entreaties, and by enlarging on my infirmity, made

known the urgency of the case, and secured sympathy, telegraphic messages were sent, to other police

stations asking if any one answering to my description had been found. Priscilla waited upon thorns until

about five o'clock in the morning, when a reply came from the other end of the town. It stated that a young

man who appeared to be blind, and who was certainly drunk and incapable, had just been brought in.

Priscilla flew to the rescue. She found me lying senseless, and destined, upon my recovery, to be brought

before the magistrate. A doctor was soon procured, who testified to my innocence so far as alcohol was

concerned. The energetic Priscilla, after placing me safely in a cab, gave the officers a bit of her mind as to

the discomforts under which she a found me laboring. She then departed triumphantly with her unconscious

I am grieved to be compelled to gather from her words, that, in spite of the indignation she displayed toward

the policemen, her estimate of my condition was the same as theirs. She was particularly grateful to the

doctor, whom, I fear, she looked upon as a clever and complaisant practitioner, who had extricated a

"But I never knew a body stop insensible so long after it. Don't ee do it again, Master Gilbert," she concluded.

I did not combat her suspicions. Priscilla was scarcely the one to whom I wished to confide the adventures of

the night. By far the simplest way was to say nothing, to leave her to draw her own, and, perhaps, not

"I won't do it again," I said. "Now get me some breakfast. Tea and toastany thing."

She went to do my bidding. It was not that I was hungry. I wanted to be alone for a few minutes, to thinkor

I recalled every thing that had happened since I left the door of my house. The entranced walk, the drunken

guide, the song I had heard, and, afterward, those horrible, eloquent sounds and touches. Everything was

clear and connected up to the moment the opiate was forced upon me; after that my mind was blank.

Priscilla's tale showed me that during that blank I must have been transported several miles and deposited in

the thoroughfare where I was found by the policeman. I saw through the crafty scheme. I had been dropped,

insensible, far away from the scene of the crime at which I had been present. How wild and improbable my

Then I remembered my horror at what I felt streaming over my hand as I lay pinned down upon the fallen

"Look," I said, holding my right hand toward her, "is it cleanwas it clean when you found me?"

"All covered with mud, just as if you'd been dabbling in the gutter. The first thing I did when I got you home

was to wash your poor hands and face. I hoped it would bring you roundit generally does, you know."

"But my coat sleevemy shirt sleeve. The right hand side. See if anything is on them."

Priscilla laughed. "You haven't got ne'er a righthand sleeve left. They were cut or torn off above the elbow.

Every scrap of circumstantial evidence which would confirm my tale was vanishing away. There would be

nothing to support it except the assertion of a blind man, who left his house in the dead of night, secretly, and

who was found, several hours afterward, miles away, in such a state that the guardians of the public morals

Yet I could not remain silent with the knowledge of such a crime weighing on my mind. The next day I had

entirely recovered from the effects of the opiate, and after consideration sent for my solicitor. He was a

confidential friend, and I resolved to be guided by his advice. In a very short time I found it was hopeless to

think of carrying conviction to his mind. He listened gravely, giving vent to "Well, well!" "Bless my soul!"

"Shocking!" and other set expressions of surprise, but I knew he was only humoring me, and looked upon the

whole thing as a delusion. I have no doubt that Priscilla had been talking to him and telling him all she knew.

His incredulity annoyed me, so I told him, testily, I should say no more about the affair.

"I believe you are saying what you think is true; but if you ask me, my opinion is that you walked in your

Too cross to argue with him, I took his advice, so far as he was concerned, and said no more about it.

Afterward I tried another friend with a similar result if those who had known me from childhood would not

Everything I had to reveal was so vague and unsupported. I could not even fix upon the spot where the crime

was committed. I had ascertained that no house in Walpole Street could be opened by a key similar to mine.

There was no other street of that name anywhere near. My friend with the unsteady feet must have

I thought, at one time, of advertising and asking him to communicate with me, but I could not word a request

which should be intelligible to him, without, perchance, exciting the suspicions of those who were concerned

in the crime. Even now, if they had discovered my true name and abode, there might be some one on the

watch for any movement I might make. I had been spared once, but no mercy would be shown me a second

time. Why should I risk my life by making disclosures which would not be believedaccusations against

men who were unknown to me? What good could I do? By now the assassins must have hidden all trace of

the crime, and made good their retreat. Why should I face the ridicule which must attach to such a tale as

mine, the truth of which I could not prove? No; let the horrors of that night be as a dream. Let them fade and

Soon I have something else to think of; something that may well drive such dismal memories from my mind.

Hope has become certainty. I am almost delirious with delight. Science has triumphed! My defeated foe has

left me. I am told his return is almost beyond possibility. The world is light again! I can see.

But my cure was a long and tedious affair. Both eyes were operated upon. First one, and, when the success of

that operation was assured, the other. It was months before I was allowed to emerge altogether from darkness.

Light was doled out to me sparingly and cautiously. What did that matter so long that I knew there was light

again for me? I was patient, very patient and grateful. I followed Mr. Jay's instructions to the letter, knowing I

My case bad been treated by the simplest and safest method of operationthe one which is always chosen

when the nature of the disease and the age of the patient permitssolution or absorption it is termed. When it

was all over, and all danger of inflammation at an end; when I found that by the aid of strong convex glasses I

could see well enough for all ordinary purposes, Mr. Jay congratulated both himself and me. It promised, he

said, to be the most thoroughly successful cure he had ever taken part in. It must have been something above

the common, as I am informed that every book on the eye which has since been published cites my case as an

Not until my dying day shall I forget that time when my cure was declared a fact; when the bandages were

The joy, from what seemed never ending night, to wake and see the sun, the starsthe clouds sped by the

wind across the fair blue sky! To see green branches swaying with the breeze, and throwing trembling

shadows on my path! To mark the flower; a bud but yesterdaytoday a bloom! To watch the broad bright

sea grow splendid with the crimson of the west! To gaze on pictures, people, mountains, streamsto know

shape, color, form and tint! To see, not hear alone, the moving lips and laugh of those who grasped my hand

To me, in those first days of newborn light, the face of every woman, man, and child seemed welcome as

After this description of my ecstasy it seems pure bathos to say that the only thing which detracted from it

was my being obliged to wear those strong convex glasses. I was young, and they were horribly disfiguring.

"That," replied Mr. Jay, "is a point upon which I wish to speak to you. You will never be able to do without

glasses. Remember, I have destroyed, absorbed, dissolved the glasses in your eyes called crystalline lenses.

Their place is now supplied by the fluid humor. This has a high refracting power. Very often if you don't give

in to Nature she will give in to you. If you can take the trouble to coerce her, she will gradually meet you. If

any one should do this, it is you. You are young; you have no profession, and your bread does not depend

upon your sight. Glasses you must always wear, but if you insist that Nature shall act without such strong

aids as these, the chances are she will at last consent to do so. It is a tedious process: few have been able or

have had patience to persevere; but my experience is that in many instances it may be done."

I determined it should be done. I followed his advice. At great personal inconvenience I wore glasses which

only permitted me to say I could see at all. But my reward came. Slowly, very slowly, I found my sight

growing stronger, till, in about two years' time, I could, by the aid of glasses, the convexity of which was so

slight as to be scarcely noticeable, see as well as most of my fellowcreatures. Then I began once more to

I cannot say that, during those two years spent in perfecting my cure, I thought no more about that terrible

night; but I made no further attempt to unravel the mystery, or to persuade any one that I had not imagined

those events. I buried the history of my adventure in my heart, and never again spoke of it. In case of need, I

wrote down all the particulars, and then tried to banish all memory of what I had heard. I succeeded fairly

well except for one thing. I could not for any long period keep my thoughts from the remembrance of that

woman's moaningthat pitiable transition of the voice from sweet melody to hopeless despair. It was that

cry which troubled my dreams, if ever I dreamed of that nightit was that cry which rang in my ears as I

awoke, trembling, but thankful to find that this time, at least, I was only dreaming.

It is springthe beautiful spring of Northern Italy. My friend Kenyon and I are lounging about in the

rectangular city of Turin, as happy and idle a pair of comrades as may anywhere be met with. We have been

here a week, long enough to do all the sightseeing demanded by duty. We have seen San Giovanni and the

churches. We have toiled, or beasts of burden have toiled with us, up La Superga, where we have gazed at the

mausoleum of Savoy's princely line. We have seen enough of the cumbrous old Palazzo Madama, which

frowns at our hotel across the Piazzi Castello. We have marvelled at the plain, uninteresting looking Palazzo

Reale, and our mirth has been moved by the grotesque brickwork decoration of the Palazzo Carignano. We

have criticised the rather poor picture gallery. In fact we have done Turin thoroughly, and with contempt bred

by familiarity, are ceasing to feel like pitiful little atoms as we stand in the enormous squares and crane our

Our tasks are over. We are now simply loafing about and enjoying ourselves; revelling in the delicious

weather, and trying to make up our languid but contented minds as to when we shall leave the town and

We wander down the broad Via di Po, lingering now and then to peer into the enticing shops which lurk in its

shady arcades; we pass through the spacious Piazzi Vittorio Emanuele; we cross the bridge whose five

granite arches span the classic Po; we turn opposite the domed church and soon are walking up the wide

shaded path which leads to the Capuchin Monastery; the broad terrace in front of which is our favorite haunt.

Here we can lounge and see the river at our feet, the great town stretching from its further bank, the open

plain beyond the town, and, far, far away in the background, the glorious snowcapped Alps, with Monte

Rosa and GrandParadis towering above their brothers. No wonder we enjoy the view from this terrace more

We gaze our fill, and then retrace our steps and saunter back as lazily as we came. After lingering a few

moments at our hotel some hazy destination prompts us to cross the great square, past the frowning old castle,

leads us up the Via di Seminario, and we find ourselves for the twentieth time in front of San Giovanni. I stop

with my head in the air admiring what architectural beauties its marble front can boast, and as I am trying to

discover them am surprised to hear Kenyon announce his intention of entering the building

"But we have vowed a vow," I said, "that the interior of churches, picture galleries, and other tourist traps

"But one thing in particular. Whilst you are staring up at pinnacles and buttresses, and trying to look as if you

knew architecture as well as Ruskin, the fairest of all sights, a beautiful woman, passes right under your

"Chuck them to the beggars. Beware of miserly habits, Gilbert; they grow on one."

Knowing that Kenyon was not the man to abandon a choice Havana without a weighty reason, I did as he

No service was going on. The usual little parties of sightseers were walking about and looking much

impressed as beauties they could not comprehend were being pointed out to them. Dotted about here and

there were silent worshippers. Kenyon glanced round eagerly in quest of "the fairest of all sights," and after a

"Come this way," he said; "let us sit down and pretend to be devout Catholics. We can catch her profile here."

I placed myself next to him, and saw, a few seats from us, an old Italian woman kneeling and praying

A girl who might have belonged to almost any country. The eyebrows and castdown lashes said that her

eyes were dark, but the pure pale complexion, the delicate straight features, the thick brown hair might, under

circumstances, have been claimed by any nation, although had I met her alone I should have said she was

English. She was well but plainly dressed, and her manner told me she was no stranger to the church. She did

not look from side to side, and np and down, after the way of a sightseer. She sat without moving until her

companion had finished her prayers. So far as one could judge from her appearance she was in church for no

particular object, neither devotional nor critical. Probably she may have come to bear the old woman at her

side company. This old woman, who had the appearance of a superior kind of servant, seemed, from the

passionate appeals she was addressing to heaven, to be in want of many things. I could see her thin lips

working incessantly, and although her words were inaudible it was evident her petitions were heartspoken

But the girl by her side neither joined her in her prayers nor looked at her. Ever.motionless as a statueher

eyes ever cast downapparently wrapped in deep thought, and, I fancied, sad thought, she sat, showing us

the while no more of her face than that perfect profile. Kenyon had certainly not overpraised her. Her's was

a face which had a peculiar attractiveness for me, the utter repose of it not being the least of that charm. I was

growing very anxious to see her full face, but as I could not do so without positive rudeness, was compelled

Presently the old Italian woman appeared to think she had done her religious duty. Seeing she was preparing

to cross herself I rose and sauntered down the church toward the door. In a few minutes the girl and her

companion passed me, and I was able to see her to better advantage, as she waited whilst the old woman

dipped her fingers in the holy water. She was undoubtedly beautiful; but there was something strange in her

beauty. I made this discovery when, for a moment, her eyes met mine. Dark and glorious as those eyes were

there was a dreamy, faraway look in thema look that seemed to pass over one and see what was behind

the object gazed at. This look gave me a curious impression, but as it was only for a second that my eyes met

hers, I could scarcely say whether the impression was a pleasant or an unpleasant one.

The girl and her attendant lingered a few moments at the door, so that Kenyon and I passed out before them.

By common consent we paused outside. The action may have been a rude one, but we were both anxious to

see the departure of the girl whose appearance had so greatly interested us. As we came through the door of

the church I noticed a man standing near the stepsa middleaged man of gentlemanly appearance. He was

rather roundshouldered and wore spectacles. Had I felt any interest in determining his station in life I should

have adjudged him to one of the learned professions. There could be no mistake as to his nationality; he was

Italian to the backbone. He was evidently waiting for some one; and when the girl, followed by the old

woman, came out of San Giovanni, he stepped forward and accosted them. The old woman gave a little sharp

cry of surprise. She took his hand and kissed it. The girl stood apparently apathetic. It was evident that the

gentleman's business lay with the old servant. He spoke a few words to her; then drawing her aside the two

walked away to some distance, under the shadow of the church, and to all appearance were talking earnestly

As her companion left her she walked on a few paces, then paused and turned as though waiting for the old

woman. Now it was that we were able to see her perfect figure and erect carriage to full advantage. Being

some little way off, we could look at her without committing an act of rudeness or indiscretion.

"Yes, she isbut not so beautiful as I thought. There is something wanting, yet it is impossible to say what it

"I can see nothing wanting," I said, so enthusiastically that Kenyon laughed aloud.

"Do English gentlemen stare at their own countrywomen and appraise them in public places like this; or is it

This impudent question was asked by some one close to my side. We turned simultaneously, and saw a tall

man of about thirty standing just behind us. His features were regular, but their effect was not a pleasant one.

You felt at a glance that a sneering mouth was curtained by the heavy mustache, and that those dark eyes and

eyebrows were apt to frown with sullen anger. At present the man's expression was that of haughty

arrogancea peculiarly galling expression, especially so I find when adopted by a foreigner toward an

Englishman. That he was a foreigner it was easy to see, in spite of his perfectly accented English. A hot reply

was upon my lips, but Kenyon, who was a young man of infinite resource and well able to say and do the

right thing in the right place, was before me. He raised his hat and made a sweeping bow, so exquisitely

"Signor," he said, "an Englishman travels through your fair land to see and praise all that is beautiful in

"If we have done wrong will the Signor convey our apologies to the lady? His wife? or shall I say his

"Ah, then a friend. Let me congratulate the Signor, and also congratulate him on his proficiency in our

"Many years! I should scarcely have thought so, the Signor has not picked up that English peculiarity which

Kenyon paused and looked into the man's face so innocently and inquiringly that he fell into the trap.

"To mind one's own business," said Kenyon, shortly and sharply, turning his back to the last speaker, as if the

The tall man's face flushed with rage. I kept eye upon him, fearing he would make an assault upon my friend,

but he thought better of it. With a curse he turned on his heel, and the matter ended.

While this conversation was in progress, the old Italian woman had left her learnedlooking friend, and

having rejoined the young girl, the two went upon their way. Our illconditioned Italian, after his

discomfiture, walked across to the man who had been talking to the old servant, and taking his arm went with

Kenyon did not propose to follow the steps of the first couple, and I, even had I wished to do so, was

ashamed to suggest such a thing. Still, I am afraid that a resolution as to visiting San Giovanni again

But I saw her no more. How many times I went to that church I dare not say. Neither the fair girl nor her

attendant crossed my path again whilst in Turin. We met our impertinent friend several times in the streets,

and were honored by a dark scowl which passed unnoticed; but of that sweet girl with the pale face and

It would be absurd to say I had fallen in love with a woman I had seen only for a few minutesto whom I

had never spokenwhose name and abode were unknown to me; but I must confess that, so far as looks

went, I was more interested in this girl than in any one I had ever seen. Beautiful as she was, I could scarcely

say why I felt this attraction or fascination. I had met many, many beautiful women. Yet, for the slender

chance of seeing this one again I lingered on in Turin until Kenyonmy good tempered friend's patience

was quite exhausteduntil he declared, that unless I quitted it at once, he would go away alone. At last I

gave in. Ten days had passed by without the chance encounter I was waiting for. We folded up our tents and

From Turin we went southwardto Genoa, Florence, Rome and Naples, and other minor places; then we

went across to Sicily, and at Palermo, according to arrangement, were received on board a yacht belonging to

another friend. We had taken our journey easily, staying as long as it suited us in each town we visited, so

that by the time the yacht had finished her cruise and borne us back to England, the summer was nearly over.

Many and many a time since leaving Turin I had thought of the girl I had seen at San Giovannithought of

her so often that I laughed at myself for my folly. Until now I had never carried in my mind for so long a

period the remembrance of a woman's face. There must, for me, have been something strangely bewitching in

her style of beauty. I recalled every featureI could, had I been an artist, have painted her portrait from

memory. Laugh at my folly as I would, I could not conceal from myself that, short as time was during which

I had seen her, the impression made upon me was growing stronger each day, instead of fainter. I blamed

myself for leaving Turin before I had met her againeven if for that purpose it had been necessary to linger

there for months. My feeling was that by quitting the place I had lost a chance which comes to a man but

Kenyon and I parted in London. He was going to Scotland after grouse, I had not yet quite settled my autumn

Was it chance or was it fate? The first morning after my arrival in London, business led me to Regent Street. I

was walking slowly down the broad thoroughfare, but my thoughts were far away. I was trying to argue away

an insane longing which was in my minda longing to return at once to Turin. I was thinking of the dim

church and the fair young face I saw three months ago. Then, as in my mind's eye I saw that girl and her old

attendant in church, I looked up and here, in the heart of London, they stood before me!

Amazed as I was, no thought of being mistaken entered my head. Unless it was a dream or an illusion, there

came the one I had been thinking of so often, walking toward me, with the old woman at her side. They might

have just stepped out of San Giovanni. There was a little change in the appearance of the old woman: she was

dressed more like an English servant; but the girl was the same. Beautiful, more beautiful than ever, I thought

as my heart gave a great leap. They passed me; I turned impulsively and followed them with my eyes.

Yes, it was fate! Now I had found her in this unexpected manner I would take care not to lose sight of her

again. I attempted to disguise my feelings no longer. The emotion which had thrilled me as I stood once more

face to face with her told me the truth. I was in lovedeeply in love. Twice, only twice, I had seen her, but

that was enough to convince me that if my lot was ever linked with another's, it must be with this woman's,

There was only one thing I could now do. I must follow the two women. So, for the next hour or more

wherever they went, at a respectful distance, I followed. I waited whilst they entered one or two shops, and

when their walk was resumed discreetly dogged their steps I kept so far in the rear that my pursuit was bound

to be unnoticed and could cause no annoyance. They soon turned out of Regent Street and walked on until

they came to one of those many rows of houses in Maida Vale. I marked the house they entered, and as I

passed by it, a few minutes afterward, saw in the front window the girl arranging a few flowers in a vase. It

It was fate! I was in love and could only act as my passion impelled me. I must find out all about this

unknown, I must make her acquaintance and so obtain the right of looking into those strange but beautiful

eyes. I must hear her speak. I laughed again at the absurdity of being in love with a woman whose voice I had

never heard, whose native language was a matter of uncertainty. But then, love is full of absurdities When

I formed a bold resolve. I retraced my steps and walked up to the house. The door was opened by a

"Have you any rooms to let?" I asked; having jumped at the conclusion that the unknown was only, lodging

The servant replied in the affirmative, and upon my expressing a wish to see the vacant rooms I was shown a

Had these rooms been dungeons instead of airy, cheerful apartmentshad they been empty and bare instead

of comfortably furnishedhad the rent been fifty pounds a week instead of the moderate sum asked, I should

have engaged them. I was very easy to deal with. The landlady was summoned and the bargain struck at

once. If that good person had known state of my mind she might have reaped a golden harvest of her ground

floor apartments. As it was, the only thing she was exacting in was the matter of references. I named several,

then I paid a month's rent in advance and received her permission, as I had just returned to England and

"Bytheby," I said carelessly, as I left the house to get my luggage, "I forgot to ask if you have other

"No, sironly a lady and her servant. They are on the first floorvery quiet people."

"Thank you," I said. "I dare say I shall be very, comfortable. You may expect me about seven o'clock."

I had reengaged my old rooms in Walpole Street before the meeting with my unknown had changed my

plans. I went back there, and after packing up all I wanted, informed the people of the house that I was going

to stay at a friend's for a few weeks. The rooms were to be kept for me all the same. At seven o'clock I was at

It was the hand of fate had wrought thiswho could doubt it? This morning I was almost on my way to

Turin in search of my love. This evening I am beneath the same roof. As I sit here in my armchair and see

all kinds of beautiful visions wreathed in the smoke curling from my cigar, I can scarcely believe that she is

within a few feet of methat I shall see her tomorrowthe next dayforever and ever! Yes, I am

hopelessly in loveI go to bed thinking I shall dream of her; but, probably owing to the strange quarters, my

dreams are far less pleasant. All night long I dream of the blind man who walked into a strange house and

A week has passed by. I am more in love than ever. I am now satisfied as to the thoroughness of my passion;

certain that this sudden love of mine will endure as long as my life; that it is no transient flush to fade away

with time or absence. Whether my suit be successful or not this woman will be my first and last love. As yet I

have made little progress in the furthering of my desire. I see her every day, because I watch for her coming

and going; and every time I see her I find fresh charms in her face and graces in her figure. Yet Kenyon was

right. Her's is a peculiar style of beauty. That pale pure face, those dark dreamy faraway eyes, are out of the

common run of womanhood. It may be this accounts for the strange fascination she has for me. Her carriage

is upright and graceful; she walks always at the same pace; her face is always grave, and it seems to me she

seldom speaks to that old companion or servant who never quits her side. I am beginning to look upon her as

I have found out some few things about her. Her name is Paulinea sweet and suitable namePauline

March. She is therefore English, although I sometimes hear her saying a few words in Italian to old Teresa,

her servant. She seems to know no one, and, so far as I can learn, no one knows more about her than I doI,

at least, know she came from Turin, and that is more than my informants were aware of.

I still occupy my rooms, waiting my chance. It is tantalizing to live in the same house with the one you love

and find no opportunity of even commencing the siege. That old Teresa guards her charge like a

thoroughbred Spanish duenna. Her dark eyes glance quickly and suspiciously at me whenever I meet the

two women, and bid them the goodmorning or goodevening which a fellowlodger may venture upon. As

yet I have got no further than these cold civilities. Pauline's eyes and manner give me no encouragement. She

acknowledges my salutation gravely, distantly, and apathetically. It is clear to me that love at first sight is not

bound to be reciprocal. I comfort myself by thinking that Fate must have something in store for me, or

So all I can do is to lurk behind the thick red curtains of my window and watch my love, guarded by that old

cat Teresa, go out and come in. I am obliged now to exercise due caution in this proceeding, as the duenna

once caught sight of me, and now each time they pass I see her fierce eyes peering into my hiding place. I am

Yet if I have done little, I am in the same house, breathing the same air as Pauline, and I am a patient man and

This is how it came. One evening I heard a fall, a clatter of china and a cry of distress. I ran out of my room

and found Teresa lying on the stairs amid the ruins of the landlady's best tea set, and groaning earnestly. My

With the shameless hypocrisy of love, I ran to her aid, as eager to help her as though she had been my

mother. I endeavored, in the most tender manner, to raise her; but she sank back, wailing out something. It

was clear that Teresa's English was not her strong point; so I asked her in Italian what was the matter. I found

that she had sprained her knee so severely that she was unable to rise. I told her that I would carry her to her

Pauline was standing on the landing. Her large dark eyes were opened wide, her whole appearance that of

affright. I paused a moment and explained what had happened, then I took the old woman into the room

which she occupied and laid her on the bed. The servant of the house was sent for a doctor, and, as I retired,

Pauline thanked me quietly, but I fancied listlessly, for my kindness. Those dreamy eyes met mine, yet

scarcely seemed to know it. Yes I was oblige to confess it, my goddess was in manner apatheticbut then,

her beauty! Those refined regular features, the girlish but wellformed figurethe thick brown hair, even

those strange dark eyes. Surely there was no woman in the world to compare with her!

She gave me her hand at partinga small wellformed, soft hand I could scarcely refrain from pressing my

lips to itI could scarcely refrain from telling her then and there that for months I had thought of her and her

onlybut injudicious as such proceedings might have been at a first meeting they would have been doubly

so whilst old Teresa was lying, and, in spite of her pains, with suspicious eyes watching every movement of

mine; so I could only express a wish to be of further service to her and bow myself out discreetly.

But the ice was brokenour hands had met. Pauline and I were strangers no longer!

Old Teresa's sprain, although not such a serious affair as she fancied, kept her indoors for several days. I

hoped this would enable me to improve my acquaintance with her mistress, but the result was not

commensurate with the hope. For the first few days Pauline so far as I knew, did not leave the house. Once or

twice I met her on the stairs and, assuming a fictitious interest in the old woman, kept her in conversation for

a minute or two. It seemed to me that she was painfully shyso shy that the conversation I would fain have

prolonged, after a little while died a natural death. I was not conceited enough to attribute her shyness and

At last, one morning I saw her leave the house alone. I took my hat and followed her. She was walking up

and down the pavement in front of the house. I joined her, and, after the usual inquiry for Teresa, continued at

her side. I must make an attempt to establish matters on a better footing between us.

I saw you in the spring at Turinin church, at San Giovanni." She raised her eyes and met mine with a

She spoke as though not quite certain about itor as if it was a matter of complete indifference.

Pauline's manner was very unsatisfying. I made many attempts to learn something about her habits and tastes.

Did she play or singwas she fond of music, of pictures, of flowers, of the stage, of travelling? Had she

many relations and friends? Directly and indirectly, I asked her all these questions.

Her replies were unsatisfactory. Either she evaded the questions, as if determined I should know nothing

about her, or she did not seem to understand them. Many of them I felt sure puzzled her. At the end of our

little promenade she remained as great a mystery to me as before. The only comfort I could take was that she

displayed no wish to shun me. We passed and repassed the house several times, but she did not suggest

reentering, as she might have done had she wished to get rid of me. There was no trace of coquetry in her

mannerquiet and reserved as I found her, she was at least simple and naturaland she was very beautiful,

It was not long before I discovered that old Teresa's black eyes were watching us from behind the blind of the

drawingroom. She must have crept from her bed to see that her charge got into no mischief. I chafed at the

Before Teresa could hobble out of doors I had met Pauline more than once in the same way. She seemed, I

was glad to believe, pleased when I joined her. The difficulty I labored under was to make her talk. She

would listen to all I had to say without comment and without reply, save yes or no. If, by a rare chance, she

asked a question or spoke a longer sentence than usual the effort was never sustained. I attributed a great deal

of this to shyness and to her secluded lifefor the only person she had to speak to was that terrible old

Although every word and action of Pauline's told me she was well educated and well bred, I was certainly

surprised at her ignorance of literature. I quoted an author, mentioned a book by name, the remark passed

unnoticed; or she looked at me as if puzzled by my allusion, or distressed at her own ignorance. Although I

had now seen her several times, I was not satisfied at the progress I had made. I knew I had not as yet struck

As soon as the old servant, duenna, friend, or what she was, grew well, I heard some startling news. My

landlady asked me if I could recommend her apartments to any friend of minesuch another as myself, she

was good enough to sayMiss March was going to leave, and the landlady thought she would prefer taking

I felt certain this was a countermove of that old hag Teresa's. She had cast venomous glances at me when we

passed each other on the stairs; had responded surlily when I asked if she had quite recovered from the effects

of her accidentin a word, I knew she was my enemy; that she had discovered my feelings toward Pauline

and was doing her best to keep us apart. I had no means of knowing the extent of her power or influence over

the girl, but I had some time since ceased to regard her as anything more than a servant. The intelligence that

my fellowlodgers were about.to quit showed me that to bring my love for Pauline to a successful issue, I

That same evening, as I heard her coming down the stairs, I threw open my door and stood face to face

"Signora Teresa," I said, with highflown politeness, "will it please you to step into my room? I wish to

She gave me a quick, suspicious glance, but nevertheless complied with my request. I closed the door and

Teresa, in spite of our inimical relations, made no objection, so I filled a glass and watched her sip it

"Yes," I continued, "your vigilant, faithful eyes have seen what I have no wish to conceal. I love the

"Listen, Teresa. I say I will marry her. I am a gentleman and rich. I have 50,000 lire a year."

The amount of my income, magnificent when reduced to her native coinage, was not without its expected

effect. If her eyes, as they met mine, were as unfriendly as ever, their look of astonishment and increasing

"Now tell me why I should not marry the Signorina? Tell me who her friends are, that I may see them and ask

This was all I could get from the old woman. She would tell me nothing about Pauline's family or friends She

I had but one chance left. Teresa's eager look when I mentioned the income I possessed had impressed me. I

must condescend to the vulgar act of direct bribery; the end would justify the means.

As I was so often travelling it was my habit to carry a large sum of money on my person. I drew out my

pocketbook and counted out a hundred pounds in new crisp notes. Teresa eyed them hungrily.

"You know what these are worth?" I said. She nodded. I pushed a couple of the notes toward her. Her skinny

"Tell me who Miss March's friends are and take these two notes; all the rest shall be yours on the day we are

The old woman sat silent for a while, but I knew temptation was assailing her. Presently I heard her

murmuring, "50,000 lire! 50,000 lire a year!" The spell worked. At last she rose. "Are you going to take the

"Did I say il dottore? It was a slip. No, you must not write. I will ask him and he must decide."

"Tell me, Teresa," I said, coaxingly, "tell me if you thinkif the SignorinaPaulinecares at all for me?"

"Who knows," answered the old woman, testily; "I do not knowbut again I say to you she is not for love or

Not for love or marriage! I laughed aloud as I thought of the old woman's absurd and oftrepeated assertion.

If on the earth there was one woman more than another made for love and marriage it was my beautiful

Pauline! I wondered what Teresa could mean; then remembering the fervor with which she prayed in San

Giovanni I decided that, being an ardent Roman Catholic, she wished Pauline to take the veil. This theory

Now that I had bought Teresa I looked forward to the enjoyment of Pauline's society without espionage or

interruption. The old woman had taken my money, and no doubt would do her best to earn more. If I could

persuade the girl to let me pass several hours of each day in her company I need fear no hindrance from

Teresa. The bribe had been accepted, and, although I blushed at the expedient to which I had been compelled

I was obliged to defer any further attempt at lovemaking until the next evening, as an important piece of

business had to be attended to in the morning. It kept me away from home for several hours, and when at last

I returned to Maida Vale I was thunderstruck to hear that my fellowlodgers had left the house. The landlady

had no idea whither they had gone. Teresa, who it appears always acted as pursebearer, had paid her dues

I threw myself into my chair, cursing Italian guile; yet, as I thought of Italian cupidity, not altogether

hopeless. Perhaps Teresa would write or come to me. I had not forgotten the eager looks she cast upon my

I spent those days, for the most part, wandering about the streets in the vain hope of encountering the

fugitives. It was only after this second loss that I really knew the extent of my passion. I cannot describe the

longing I had to see that fair face once more. Yet, I feared the love was all on my side. If Pauline had felt

even a passing interest in me she could scarcely have left in this secret and mysterious manner. Her heart was

yet to be won, and I knew that unless I won it no woman's love would to me be worth having.

I should have returned to my old lodgings in Walpole Street had it not been that I feared to quit Maida Vale,

lest Teresa, if she should be faithful to her engagements, might miss me. So I lingered on there until ten days

It was written in a delicate pointed Italian style and signed Manuel Ceneri. It simply said that the writer

Nothing was hinted at as to the object of the visit, but I knew it could be connected with only one thingthe

desire of my heart. Teresa, after all, had not played me false. Pauline would be mine. I waited with feverish

A few minutes after twelve he was announced and shown into my room. I recognized him at once. He was

the middleaged man with rather round shoulders who had talked to Teresa under the shade of San Giovanni

at Turin. Doubtless he was "il dottore" spoken of by the old woman as being the arbiter of Pauline's fate.

He bowed politely as he entered, cast one quick look at me as if trying to gather what he could from my

"I make no apology for calling," he said; "you will no doubt guess why I come." His English was fluent, but

"I am Manuel Ceneri. I am a doctor by profession My sister was Miss March's mother. I have come from

"Yes, I know. You want to marry my niece. Now, Mr. Vaughan, I have many reasons for wishing my niece to

Pauline might have been a bale of cotton, so impassively did her uncle speak of her future.

"In the first place," he went on, "I am told you are well born and rich. Is that so?"

I bowed stiffly, and taking a sheet of paper wrote a line to my solicitors, asking them to give the bearer the

fullest information as to my resources. Ceneri folded up the note and placed it in his pocket. Perhaps I

"I am bound to be particular in this matter," he said, "as my niece has nothing."

"She had money oncea large fortune. It was lost long ago. You will not ask how or where?"

"Very wellI feel I have no right to refuse your offer. Although she is half Italian, her manners and habits

are English. An English husband will suit her best; You have not yet, I believe, spoken of love to her?"

"I have had no opportunity. I should no doubt have done so, but as soon as our acquaintance commenced she

"Yes, my instructions to Teresa were strict. It was only on condition she obeyed her that I allowed Pauline to

Although this man spoke as one who absolute authority over his #niece, he had not said one word which

"Yeson conditions. The man who marries Pauline March must be content to take her as she is. He must ask

no questions, seek to know nothing of her birth and family, nothing of her early days. He must be content to

know that she is a lady, that she is very beautiful, and that he loves her. Will this suffice?

The question was such a strange one that even in the height of my passion I hesitated.

"I will say this much," added Ceneri, "she is good and pureher birth is equal to your own. She is an orphan

"I am content," I cried, holding out my hand to seal the compact. "Give me Pauline, I ask no more."

Why should I not be content? What did I want to know about her family, her antecedents, or her history? So

madly did I long to call that beautiful girl mine that, I believe, had Ceneri told me she was worthless and

disgraced among women, I should have said, "give her to me and let her begin life anew as my wife." Men do

"Now, Mr. Vaughan," said the Italian, drawing his hand from mine; "my next question will astonish you. You

He paused and my heart beat at the thought. "Will your arrangements permit of an early marriagean

immediate marriage? Can I upon my return to the Continent in a few days leave her future in your hands

"We need not be so impetuous as thatbut could you arrange for, say the day after tomorrow?"

I stared at himI could scarcely believe I heard correctly. To be married to Pauline within a few hours!

There must be something in the background of such bliss! Ceneri must be a madman! Yet, even from the

"Pauline is obedient and will do as I wish. You can woo her after her marriage instead of before it."

"I believe there are such things as special licenses to be bought. You are wondering at my suggestion. I am

bound to return to Italy almost at once. Now, I put it to youcan I, under the circumstances, leave Pauline

here with only a servant to look after her? No, Mr. Vaughan, strange as it may seem, I must either see her

your wife before I leave or I must take her back with me. The latter may be unfortunate for you, as here I

have only myself to consider, while abroad there may be others to consult, and perhaps I must change my

Till now I had been sitting with my back to the window. As I faced the light I noticed the Italian doctor look

"Your face seems quite familiar to me, Mr. Vaughan, although I cannot recall where I have seen you."

I told him he must have seen me outside San Giovanni while he was talking to old Teresa. He remembered

the occurrence and appeared satisfied. Then we called a cab and drove to Pauline's new abode.

It was not so very far away. I wondered I had not encountered either Pauline or Teresa in my rambles.

"Would you mind waiting in the hall a minute?" asked Ceneri as we entered the house. "I will go and prepare

I would have waited a month in a dungeon for the reward in prospect; so I sat down on the polished

"You will pay me and blame me for nothing. But listenonce more I say itthe signorina is not for love or

Then a bell rang and Teresa left me. In a few minutes she reappeared and conducted me upstairs to a room in

which I found my beautiful Pauline and her uncle. She raised her dark dreamy eyes and looked at methe

most infatuated man could not have flattered himself that the light of love was in them.

I fully expected that Doctor Ceneri would have left us to arrange matters alone; but nohe took me by the

"Mr. Vaughan," continued Ceneri, "does us the honor of asking you to be his wife."

I could not permit all my wooing to be done by proxy, so I stepped forward and took her hand in mine.

"Pauline," I whispered, "I love yousince first I saw you I have loved youwill you be my wife?"

She did not respond to my appeal, but then she did not repulse me, neither did she strive to withdraw her

hand from mine; she remained calm and undemonstrative as ever; but I threw my arm round her, and, in spite

of Ceneri's presence, kissed her passionately. It was only when my lips touched her own that I saw the color

She disengaged herself from my embrace, glanced at her uncle, who stood impassive as if he had witnessed

"I think you had better go now," said Ceneri. "I will arrange everything with Pauline. You must do on your

"It is, but it must be soI cannot wait an hour longer. You had better leave me now and return tomorrow."

I went away with my head in a whirlI was uncertain what to do. The temptation to call Pauline my own in

so short a time was great; but I could not deceive myself by thinking that she cared for me at all, as yet. But,

as Ceneri said, I could do my wooing after marriage. Still I hesitated. The hurried proceeding was so strange.

Ardently as I desired to wed Pauline I wished I could have first won her. Would it not be better to let her

uncle take her to Italy, then to follow her and learn if she could love me? Against this prudent course came

Ceneri's vague threat, that in such an event his mind might be changedand more than all, I was desperately

in love. Although it could only be for her beauty that I loved her, I was madly in love. Fate had thrown us

together. She had escaped me twicenow the third time she was offered to me unreservedly. I was

superstitious enough to think that if I rejected or postponed accepting the gift, it would be withdrawn forever.

I saw her the next day, but never alone. Ceneri was with us all the time. Pauline was sweet, silent, shy and

languid. I had much to domuch to see to. Never was a wooing so short or so strange as mine. By the

evening all arrangements were made, and by ten o'clock the next morning Gilbert Vaughan and Pauline

March were man and wifethose two who had not in their lifetime even conversed for a time amounting,

say, to three hours, were linked together for better or worse till death should part them!

Ceneri left immediately the ceremony was over, and, to my astonishment, Teresa announced her intention of

accompanying him. She did not fail to wait on me for the promised reward, which I gave her freely and fully.

Then, with my beautiful bride, I started for the Scottish lakes, to begin the wooing which should have been

Proud and happy as I felt when seated side by side with Pauline in the railway carriage which was taking us

to the north; fortunate as I told myself I was to have won such a fair bride; great as my love was for the sweet

girl who had just vowed herself mine forever, Ceneri's extraordinary stipulation kept recurring to my

mindthe man who marries Pauline March must be content to take her as she is; to wish to know nothing of

Not for one moment did I think such a contract could be enforced. As soon as I had succeeded in making

Pauline love me, she would surely wish to tell me all her historythere would be no need to ask for itthe

confidence would then be given as a matter of course. When she had learned the secret of love, all other

My wife looked very beautiful as she sat with her head leaning against the dark cloth of the carriage. Her

clearcut; refined features showed in that position advantageously. Her face, as usual, was pale and calm; her

eyes were cast down. A woman to be indeed proud of, to worship, to cherish, andhow sweet it seemed to

Yet I suspect none would have taken us for a newly married couple. At any rate there were no nudgings and

sly glances among our fellowpassengers. The ceremony had been so hurried on that no attempt had been

made to invest Pauline with the usual bridal accessories. Her dress, although becoming and fashionable, was

the one in which I had seen her several times. Neither of us had any brand new belongings to stamp us as

being bound for a honeymoon; so the only notice we attracted was the notice which was due to my wife's

The carriage was nearly full when we started from London, and as the strangeness of our new relations

prevented our conversing in an ordinary way, by mutual consent we were all but silent; a few soft words in

At the first important station, the first place at which the train stopped for any time worth mentioning, I

exercised a little diplomatic bribery, and, changing our carriage, we were installed in a compartment the

windows of which bore the magic word "engaged." Pauline and I were alone. I took her hand in mine.

Her hand lay listless and unresisting in my own. I pressed my lips to her cheek. She shrank not from my kiss,

She repeated the words like a child learning a new lesson. My heart sank as her emotionless accents fell on

I could not blame her. Why should she love me yet? Me, whose christian name, I think, she heard yesterday

for the first time? Better, far better, indifference than simulated love. She had become my wife simply

because her uncle wished it. I could at least comfort myself by thinking the marriage had not been forced

upon her; also that, so far as I could see, she entertained no dislike to me. I did not for one moment despair. I

must now woo her humbly and reverently, as every man should woo his love. Certainly, as her husband, I did

not stand in a worse position than when I was her fellowlodger and old Teresa was following my every

I would win her, but until I could claim the rights which love would give, I resolved to take none of those

"Pauline," I said, "will you kiss me? Only once I ask it. It will make me happier; but if you would rather wait

She leaned forward and kissed my forehead. Her young lips were red and warm, but they chilled mein that

I drew my hand from hers, and, still sitting beside her, began to do my best to make myself agreeable to the

woman I loved. If I felt distressed and somewhat disappointed, I concealed it and strove to talk pleasantly and

naturallytried to ascertain what manner of woman I had marriedto get at her likes and dislikesto

study her dispositionto determine her tasteslearn her wishesread her thoughts, and eventually to make

When was it the idea first struck methe horrible idea that even the peculiarity and novelty of situation

could not altogether account for Pauline's apathy and lack of animationthat shyness alone could not be

entirely responsible for the difficulty I experienced in making her talk to me, even in inducing her to answer

my questions? I made every excuse for her. She was tired; she was upset; she could think of nothing else save

the rash and sudden step taken todaymore rash for her than for meas I, at least, knew that I loved her.

At last I, too, sank into silence, and miles and hours went by, whilst the bride and bridegroom sat side by side

without exchanging a word, much less a caress. It was a strange situationa strange journey!

And on and on the train rushed northwardon and on until the dusk began to creep over the flying country;

and I sat and looked at the listless but beautiful girl at my side, and wondered what our future life would be;

but I did not despair, although the rattle of the train as it whirred along seemed to resolve itself into a dreamy

rhythm, and reiterated without ceasing old Teresa's sullen words, " She is not for love or marriagenot for

Darker and darker it grew outside, and as the carriage light fell on the pure, white face of the girl beside me;

as I watched its never changing expression; its beautiful but never varying pallor, a strange fear came over

mea fear lest she was wrapped in an armor of ice which no love would ever thaw. Then tired, weary and

almost dispirited I sank into a kind of sleep. The last thing I could remember before my eyes closed was that,

in spite of my resolution, I took that white, wellshaped, unresisting hand in my own, and slept still holding

Sleep! Yes, it was sleep, if sleep means anything but rest and peace. Never, since the night I heard it, had that

woman's stifled moaning come back to me so clearly never had my dreams so nearly approached the reality

of the terror which the blind man had felt years ago. Right thankful I was when the haunting cry rose shriller

and shriller, and, at last, culminated by resolving itself into the shrieking whistle, which told me we were near

to Edinburgh. I loosed my wife's hand and recalled my senses. That dream must have been a vivid one, for it

Never having been to Edinburgh, and wishing to see something of the city, I had proposed staying there for

two or three days. During the journey I had suggested this to my wife. She had agreed to it as though place or

time was a matter of little moment to her. Nothing, it seemed to me, awoke her interest!

We drove to the hotel and supped together. From our manner we might, at the most, have been friends. Our

intercourse, for the time, being confined to the usual civilities shown by a gentleman toward a lady in whose

society he is thrown. Pauline thanked me for any little attention to her comfort, and that was all. The journey

"Goodnight, then," I said; "tomorrow you will feel better, and we will look at the lions of the place."

She rose, we shook hands and said goodnight. Pauline retired to her apartment while I went out for a ramble

through the gaslighted streets, and with a sad heart recalled the events of the day.

Husband and wife! The bitter mockery of the words! For in everything except the legal bond Pauline and I

were as far apart as we were on that day when first I saw her at Turin. Yet this morning we had vowed to love

and cherish each other until death did us part. Why had I been rash enough to take Ceneri at his word? Why

not have waited until I had ascertained that the girl could love me, or at least ascertained that she had the

power of loving at all? The apathy and utter indifference she displayed fell like a chill upon my heart. I had

done a foolish thinga thing that could never be undone. I must bear the consequences.Still I would

I walked about for a long time, thinking over my strange position. Then I returned to the hotel and sought my

own apartment. It was one of the suite of rooms I had engaged, and next to my wife's. I dismissed, as well as

I could, all hopes and fears until the morning came, and, tired with the day's events, at last slept.

My bride and I did not visit the Lakes as I had planned. In two days' time I had learned the whole

truthlearned all I could knowall that I might ever know about Pauline. The meaning of the old woman's

repeated phrase, "she is not for love or marriage," was manifested to me. The reason why Dr. Ceneri had

stipulated that Pauline's husband should be content to take her without inquiring into her early life was clear.

Or no knowledge of the past. Slowly at first, then with swift steps, the truth came home to me. Now I knew

how to account for that puzzled, strange look in those beautiful eyesknew the reason for the indifference,

the apathy, she displayed. The face of the woman I had married was fair as the morn; her figure was perfect

as that of a Grecian statue; her voice low and sweet; but the one thing which animates every charmthe

How shall I describer her? Madness means something quite different from her state. Imbecility still less

convey my meaning. There is no word I can find which is fitting to use. There was simply something missing

from her intellectas much missing as a limb may be from a body. Memory, except for comparatively

recent events, she seemed to have none. The power or reasoning, weighing and drawing deductions seemed

beyond her grasp. She appeared unable to recognize the importance or bearing of occurrences taking place

around her. Sorrow and delight were emotions she was incapable of feeling. Nothing appeared to move her.

Unless her attention was called to them she noticed neither persons nor places. She lived as by instinctrose,

ate, drank, and lay down to rest as one not knowing why she did so. Such questions or remarks as came

within the limited range of her capacity she replied tothose outside it passed unheeded, or else the shy

troubled eyes sought for a moment the questioner's face, and left him as mystified as I had been when first I

Yet she was not mad. A person might have met her out in company, and after spending hours in her society

might have carried away no worse impression than that she was shy and reticent. Whenever she did speak her

words were as those of a perfectly sane woman; but as a rule her voice was only heard when the ordinary

necessities of life demanded, or in reply to some simple question. Perhaps, I should not be far wrong in

comparing her mind to that of a childbut, alas! it was a child's mind in a woman's bodyand that woman

Life to her, so far as I could see, held neither mental pleasure nor pain. Considered physically, I found that

she was more influenced by heat and cold than by any other agents. The sun would tempt her out of doors, or

the cold wind would drive her in. She was by no means unhappy. She seemed quite content to sit by my side,

or to walk and drive with me for hours without speaking. Her whole existence was a negative one.

And she was sweet and docile. She followed every suggestion of mine, fell in with every plan, was ready to

go here, there, or everywhere, as I wished; but her compliance and obedience were as those of a slave to a

new master. It seemed to me that all her life she must have been accustomed to obey some one. It �vas this

habit which had so misled mehad almost made me think that Pauline loved me, or she would not have

consented to that hasty marriage. Now, I knew that her ready obedience to her uncle's command was really

due to the inability of her mind to offer resistance, and its powerlessness to comprehend the true meaning of

Such was Pauline, my wife! A woman in her beauty and grace of person; a child in her clouded and unformed

or stunted mind! And I, her husband, a strong man craving for love, might win from her, perchance, at last,

what might be compared to the affection of a child to its parents, or a dog to its master.

As the truth, the whole truth, came home to me, I am not ashamed to say that I lay down and wept in bitter

I loved her even now I knew all! I would not even have undone the marriage. She was my wifethe only

woman I had ever cared for. I would fulfill my vowwould love her and cherish her. Her life, at least should

be as happy as my care could make it. But all the same I vowed I would have a fitting reckoning with that

Him, I felt it was necessary I should see at once. From him I would wring all particulars. I would learn if

Pauline had always been the sameif there was any hope that time and patient treatment would work an

improvement. I would learn, moreover, the object of his concealment. I would, I swore, drag the truth from

him, or it should cost me dear. Until I stood face to face with Ceneri I should find no peace.

I told Pauline it was necessary we should return to London immediately. She betrayed no surprise; raised no

objections. She made her preparations at once, and was ready to accompany me when I willed it. This was

another thing about her which puzzled me. So far as things mechanically went, she was as other people. In

her toilet, even in her preparations for a journey, she needed no assistance. All her actions were those of a

perfectly sane person; it was only when the mind was called upon to show itself that the deficiency became at

It was gray morning when we reached Euston Station. We had travelled all night. I smiled bitterly as I

stepped on to the platform; smiled at the contrast between my thoughts of today and those of a few

mornings ago when I handed the wife I had so strangely won into the train, and told myself, as I followed her,

And yet how fair the girl looked as she stood by my side on that wide platform ! How strangely that air of

repose, that sweet refined calm face, that general appearance of indifference, contrasted with the busy scene

around us, as the train disgorged its contents. Oh, that I could sweep the clouds from her mind and make her

I had found some difficulty in settling what course to pursue. I decided, after ventilating various schemes,

that I would take Pauline to my own rooms in Walpole Street. I knew the people of the house well, and felt

certain she would be taken care of during my absence; for, after a few hours' repose, it was my intention to

start in search of Ceneri. I had written from Edinburgh to Walpole Street, telling the good people there to be

ready for me and whom to expect; moreover, I had again appealed to my faithful old servant, Priscilla, and

begged her to be at the house awaiting my arrival. For my sake, I knew she would show every kindness to my

All was in readiness for us. Priscilla received us with eyes full of curious wonder. I saw that her sympathies

were at once enlisted by Pauline's appearance. After a cup of tea and something to eat, I begged Priscilla to

lead my wife to her room, that she might take the rest she needed. Pauline, in her childlike, docile way, rose

"When you have seen to Mrs. Vaughan's comforts, come back to me," I said, "I want to speak to you."

Priscilla, no doubt, was only too eager to return to me. I felt she was brimming over with questions about my

unexpected marriage; but I checked her volubility. My face must have told her that I had nothing pleasant to

communicate. She sat down, and, as I desired her to do, listened without comment to my tale.

I was compelled to confide in some one. The old woman, I knew, was trustworthy and would keep my affairs

secret. So I told her all, or nearly all. I explained as well as I could Pauline's peculiar mental state. I suggested

all that my short experience brought to my mind, and I prayed Priscilla, by the love she bore me, to guard and

be kind in my absence to the wife I loved. The promise being given I threw myself upon the sofa and slept for

In the afternoon I saw Pauline again. I asked her if she knew where I could write to Ceneri. She shook her

She pressed her delicate finger tips against her brow. I had always noticed that trying to think always troubled

She turned her puzzled eyes to mine. I sighed, as I knew my questions were useless.

Still, find him I must. I would go to Geneva. If the man was a doctor, as he represented himself, he must be

known there. If I could not find any trace of him at Geneva I would try Turin. I took my wife's hand.

"I am going away for a few days, Pauline. You will stay here until I return. Every one will be kind to you.

Then, after some last instructions to Priscilla, I started on my journey. As my cab drove from the door I

glanced up at the window of the room in which I had left Pauline. She was standing there looking at me, and

a great wave of joy came over my heart, for I fancied that her eyes were looking sad, like the.eyes of one

taking leave of a dear friend. It may have been only fancy, but, as I had never before even fancied the

expression there, that look in Pauline's eyes was some comfort to carry away with me.

I travelled in hot haste, as fast as steam would bear me, to Geneva; where I at once began my inquiries as to

the whereabouts of Doctor Ceneri. I had hoped that finding him would be an easy matter. His words had

given me the impression that he practised in the town. If so, many people must know him. But he had misled

me or I had deceived myself. For several days I hunted high and low; inquired everywhere; but not a soul

could I find who knew the man. I called on every doctor in the place; one and all professed entire ignorance

of such a colleague. At last I felt certain that the name he had given me was a fictitious one, or that Geneva

was not his abode. However obscure a doctor may be, he is sure to he known by some of his professional

It was on the eve of my intended departure. I was strolling about, feeling very sad at heart, and trying to

persuade myself that I should fare better in Turin, when I noticed a man lounging along the opposite side of

the street. As his face and bearing seemed familiar to me, I crossed the road to see him to better advantage

Being clothed in the inevitable tourist suit, he presented the appearance of an ordinary British travellerso

much so that I believed I must be mistaken. But I was right, after all. In spite of his changed attire, I

recognized him the moment I drew near. He was the man with whom Kenyon had engaged in a wordy war

outside San Giovannithe man who had remonstrated with us for our expressed admiration of Paulinethe

The chance was too good a one to be lost. He would, at least, know where the doctor was to be found. I

trusted his memory for faces was not so retentive as mine; that he would not connect me with the unpleasant

passage which occurred when we last met walked up to him, and raising my hat requested him to favor me

I spoke in English. He gave me a quick, penetrating glance, then acknowledging my salutation, professed, in

"I am trying to ascertain the address of a gentleman who I believe lives here. I think you will be able to assist

He laughed. "I will if I canbut being like yourself an Englishman, and knowing very few people, I fear I

The start he gave as he heard my words; the look, almost of apprehension, he cast on me, showed me that he

I was not going to lose him like that. I quickened my pace and came up with him.

"I must beg of you to tell me where I can find him. I must see him upon an important matter. It is no use

He hesitated, then halted. "You are strangely importunate, sir. Perhaps you will tell me your reason for your

He looked at me attentively. "Yes, I remember your face now. You are one of those young men who insulted

"Please remember I said nothing. But that matters little. It is on behalf of his niece, Pauline, that I wish to see

A look of utter astonishment spread over his face. "What have you to do with his niece?" he asked roughly.

He remained thoughtful for a few seconds. "I can take you to Ceneri," he said, "but first I must know what

you want with him, and why you mention Pauline's name? The street is not the place to talk inlet us go

"Now, Mr. Vaughan," he said, "answer my question, and I may see my way to helping you. What has Pauline

He sprang to his feeta fierce Italian oath hissed from his lips. His face was white with rage.

"I told you, sir, that I am an English gentleman. Either you will apologize for your words or I will kick you

He struggled with his passion and curbed it. "I apologize," he said, "I was wrong. Does Ceneri know it?" he

His passion once more seemed upon the point of mastering him. "Traditore!" I heard him whisper fiercely to

"If so, I have nothing more to do save to congratulate you, Mr. Vaughan. Your fortune is indeed enviable.

Your wife is beautiful, and of course good. You will find her a charming companion."

I would have given much to know why the mention of my marriage should have sent him into such a storm of

rage, but I would have given more to have been able to fulfil my threat of kicking him out. The intonation of

his last words told me that Pauline's state of mind was well known to him. I could scarcely keep my hands off

the fellow; but I was compelled to restrain my anger, as without his aid I could not find Ceneri.

"Thank you," I said quietly, "now perhaps you will give me the information I want."

"You are not a very devoted bridegroom, Mr. Vaughan," said the fellow mockingly. "If Ceneri was at your

wedding it could only have occurred a few days ago. It must be important business which tears you from the

"Then I fear it must wait a few days. Ceneri is not in Geneva. But I have reason to think he may be here in

"Let me know where to find him and I will call upon him. I must speak with him."

"I imagine that will be as the doctor chooses. I can only make known your wishes to him."

He bowed and left me. I felt that even now it was doubtful whether I should succeed in obtaining the

interview with the mysterious doctor. It depended entirely whether he chose to grant it. He might come to

Geneva and go away again without my being any the wiser, unless his friend or himself sent me some

I idled away a week, and then began to fear that Ceneri had made up his mind to keep out of my way. But it

was not so. A letter came one morning. It contained a few words only. "You wish to see me. A carriage will

At eleven o'clock an ordinary hired conveyance drove up to the hotel. The driver inquired for Mr. Vaughan. I

stepped in without a word, and was driven to a small house outside the town. Upon being shown into a room

I found the doctor seated at a table covered with newspapers and letters. He rose, and shaking my hand

"I will answer all I canbut there are many I shall doubtless refuse to reply to. You remember my

"You had seen her yourself several times. Her state was the same as when she first proved so attractive to

"I had so many reasons, Mr. Vaughan. Pauline was a great responsibility on my shoulders. A great expense,

for I am a poor man. And, after all, is the matter so very bad? She is beautiful, good, and amiable. She will

"Scarcely that altogether. There are circumstancesI cannot explain themwhich made me glad to marry

"Without thinking what that man's feelings might be on finding the woman he loved little better than a child."

I felt indignant, and showed my feelings very plainly. Ceneri took little notice of my warmth. He remained

"There is another point to be considered. Pauline's case is, in my opinion, far from being hopeless. Indeed, I

have always looked upon marriage as greatly adding to the chance of her recovery. If her mind to a certain

extent is wanting, I believe that, little by little, it may be built up again. Or it may return as suddenly as it left

My heart leaped at his words of hope. Cruelly as I felt I had been treated, tool that I had been made for this

man's selfish ends, I was willing to accept the situation cheerfully if I had any hope held out to me.

"Will you give me all the particulars of my poor wife's state? I conclude she has not been always like this?"

"Certainly not. Her case is most peculiar. Some years ago she received a great shocksustained a sudden

loss. The effect was to entirely blot out the past from her mind. She rose from her bed after some weeks'

illness with her memory a complete blank. Places were forgottenfriends were strangers to her. Her mind

might, as you say, have been the mind of a child. But a child's mind grows, and, if treated properly, so will

I asked other questions, but could get no answers worth recording I should return to England not much wiser

than I left it. But there was one question to which I insisted on having a clear reply.

"What has that friend of yoursthat Englishspeaking Italian, to do with Pauline?"

"Macari! I am glad to be able to answer something fully, Mr. Vaughan. For a year or two before Pauline was

taken ill, Macari supposed himself to be in love with her. He is now furious with me for allowing her to get

"Nonot if there is a chance, even a slight chance. But I tell you, Dr. Ceneri, you have deceived and cajoled

I rose to take my leave. Then Ceneri spoke with more feeling than he had as yet displayed.

"Mr. Vaughan, do not judge me too harshly. I have wronged you, I admit. There are things you know nothing

of. I must tell you more than I intended. The temptation to place Pauline in a position of wealth and comfort

was irresistible. I am her debtor for a vast amount. At one time her fortune was about fifty thousand pounds.

"Yes. I dare to speak of it. I spent it all for freedomfor Italy. It was in my keeping as trustee. I, who would

have robbed my own father, my own son, should I hesitate to take her money for such an end? Every farthing

"Call it what you like. Money had to be found. Why should I not sacrifice my honor for my country as freely

"Yes, but I tell you to show you why I wished to gain Pauline a home. Moreover, Mr. Vaughan"here his

voice dropped to a whisper"I was anxious to provide that home at once. I am bound on a journeya

journey of which I cannot see the end, much less the returning. I doubt whether I should have decided to see

Angry as I was with the man, I could not refuse the hand he stretched out to me.

"Farewell," he said, "it may be that in some year or two I shall write to you and ask you if my predictions as

to Pauline's recovery have been fulfilled; but do not trouble to seek me or to inquire for me if I am silent."

So we parted. The carriage was waiting to take mo back to the hotel. On my way thither I passed the man

whom Ceneri had called Macari. He signalled to the driver to stop, and then entering the carriage sat beside

"Had you questioned me," he continued, "I might have told you more than Ceneri."

"I came here to ask Dr. Ceneri for all the information he could give me respecting my wife's mental state, of

which I believe you are aware. If you can say anything that may be of use to me, I will beg you to speak."

"Not here, Mr. Vaughan. The doctor and I are friends. You might fly back and assault him, and I should get

"Give me your address, and perhaps I will write; or, better still, if I feel inclined to be communicative, I will

call upon you when I am next in London, and pay my respects to Mrs. Vaughan at the same time."

So eager was I to get at the bottom of the affair that I gave him my card. He then stopped the carriage and

stepped out. He raised his hat, and there was a malicious triumph in his eyes as they met mine.

"Goodby, Mr. Vaughan. Perhaps after all you are to be congratulated upon being married to a woman whose

With this parting shafta shaft which struck deep and rankledhe left me. It was well he did so, before I

Yes, she was glad to see me back! In her uncertain, clouded way she welcomed me. My great fear, that in the

short time she would have entirely forgotten me, was groundless She knew me and welcomed me. My poor

Pauline! If I could but find the way to bring those truant senses back once more!

For months and months nothing of importance occurred. If my love's mind was, as Ceneri predicted, to be

gradually restored, the process was a tedious one. At times I thought her betterat times worse. The fact is

there was little or no change in her condition. Hour after hour she sits in her apathy and listlessness; speaking

only when spoken to; but willing to come with me any where; do anything I suggest, whenever, alas! I

The greatest doctors in England have seen her. Each says the same thing. She may recover; but each tells me

the recovery would be made more possible if the exact circumstances which brought about the calamity were

For Ceneri has made no sign, nor has Macari sent his promised information. The latter after his last malicious

words, I dread more than I wish for. Teresa, who might have thrown some light on the subject, has

disappeared. I blame myself for not having asked the doctor where she was to be found; but doubtless he

would have declined to tell me. So the days go on. All I can do is, with Priscilla's assistance, to insure that my

poor girl is made as happy as can be, and hope that time and care may at length restore her.

We are still at Walpole Street. My intention had been to buy a house and furnish it. But why? Pauline could

not look after itwould not be interested in itit would not be home. So we stay on at my old lodgings and

I care to see no friends. I am, indeed, blamed for forsaking all my old acquaintances. Some who have seen

Pauline attribute my lack of hospitality to jealousy; some to other causes; but, as yet, I believe no one knows

There are times when I feel I cannot bear my grieftimes when I wish that Kenyon had never led me inside

that church at Turin: but there are other times when I feel that in spite of all, my love for my wife, hopeless as

it is, has made me a better and even a happier man. I can sit for hours looking at her lovely face, even as I

could looking at a picture or a statue. I try to imagine that face lit up with bright intelligence, as once it must

have been. I long to know what can have drawn that dark curtain over her mind, and I pray that one day it

may fall aside and I may see her eyes responsive to my own. If I felt sure this would ever be I would wait

I have this poor consolationwhatever the effect of our marriage may hare been upon my life, it has, at least,

not made my wife's lot a sadder one. Her days I am sure must be brighter than those when she was under the

supervision of that terrible old Italian woman. Priscilla loves her and pets her like a child, whilst Iwell, I do

every thing I can which I fancy may give her such pleasure as she is capable of feeling. Sometimes, not

always, she seems to appreciate my efforts, and once or twice she has taken my hand and raised it to her lips

as if in gratitude. She is beginning to love me as a child may love its father, as some weak helpless creature

may love its protector. This is a poor recompense, but I am thankful even for this.

So, in our quiet household, the days pass by and the months glide away until the winter is over and the

laburnums and lilacs in the little plots in front of houses in the suburbs are in bud.

It is fortunate that I am fond of books. Without that taste life would indeed be colorless. I have not the heart

to leave Pauline alone and seek society on my own account. I spend my hours every day reading and

studying, whilst my wife sits in the same room silent unless I address a remark to her.

It is a matter of great grief to me that I am almost entirely debarred from hearing the sound of music. I soon

discovered that its effect upon Pauline was prejudicial. The notes which soothed me, in some way seemed to

irritate her and make her uneasy. So, unless she is out somewhere with old Priscilla and I am left alone, the

piano is unopened; the music books lie unused. Only those who love music as I love it can understand how

One morning as I sat alone I was told that a gentleman wished to see me. He gave the servant no name, but

instructed her to say that he was from Geneva. I knew it must be Macari. My first impulse was to send back

word that I would not see him. Again and again, since our last meeting, his words had come back to

methose words which hinted at something in Pauline's past which her uncle had an object in concealing.

But each time I thought of them I discovered they were only the malicious insinuation of a disappointed man,

who having failed to win the woman he loved, wished to make his favored rival suspicious and unhappy. I

feared nothing he could say against my wife, but disliking the man, I hesitated before giving instructions for

Yet Macari was the only link between Pauline and her past; Ceneri I felt sure I should never see again; this

man was the only one remaining from whom it was possible to learn anything respecting my wife. The one

person whose appearance could, by any chance, stimulate that torpid memory, and, perhaps, influence the

state of her mind by suggesting, no matter how dimly, scenes and events in which he must have played a part.

So thinking, I decided that the man should be admitted, and, moreover that he should be brought face to face

with Pauline. If he wished to do so he might speak to her of old days, even old passionanything that might

He entered my room and greeted me with what I knew to be assumed cordiality. I felt, in spite of the hearty

grasp he gave my hand, that he meant his visit to bode no good to me. What did I care why he came? I

wanted him for a purpose. With the end in view, what mattered the tool, if I could keep it from turning in my

I met him with a greeting almost as cordial as his own; I begged him to be seated, then rang for wine and

"Until I am called abroad again. Things have gone wrong with us there. I must wait until the atmosphere has

"I fancied you knew my trade," he said. "I supposed you are a conspiratorI don't use the word offensively;

"Other countries are not free. I work for them. Our poor friend Ceneri did the same, but his last day's work is

"Dead to all of us. I cannot give you particulars; but a few weeks after you left Geneva he was arrested in St.

Petersburg. He lay in prison for months awaiting his trial. It has come off, I hear."

"What always happensour poor friend is at this moment on his way to Siberia, condemned to twenty years

Although I bore no particular love toward Ceneri, I shuddered as I heard his fate.

"Naturally, or I should not be here smoking your very good cigars and sipping your capital claret."

I was disgusted at the indifference with which he spoke of his friend's misfortune. If it seemed horrible to me

to think of the man working in the Siberian mines, what should it have seemed to his fellow conspirator?"

"Now, Mr. Vaughan," said the latter, "with your permission I will enter on business matters with you. I am

"Nothing of my family? He did not tell you my true name any more than he told you his own? He did not tell

I was astonished at this announcement. In the face of the doctor's assertions that this man had been in love

with Pauline, I did not for a moment believe it: but thinking it better to hear his tale out, I simply replied,

"Very wellthen I will tell you my history as briefly as I can. I am known by many names abroad, but my

right name is Anthony March. My father and Pauline's married Dr. Ceneri's sister. He died young and left the

whole of his large property to his wife absolutely. She died some time afterward, and in turn left every thing

in my uncle's hands as sole trustee for my sister and myself. You know what became of the money, Mr.

"Dr. Ceneri told me," I said, impressed in spite of myself by the correct way in which he marshalled his facts.

"Yes, it was spent for Italy. It paid for the keep of many a red shirt, armed many a true Italian. All our fortune

was spent by the trustee. I have never blamed him. When I knew where it had gone I freely forgave him."

"I don't quite look upon it in that light. Victor Emmanuel's government is now firmly established. Italy is free

and will grow richer every year. Now, Mr. Vaughan, my idea is this: I believe, if the facts of the case were

laid before the king, something might be done. I believe, if I, and you on behalf of your wife, were to make it

known that Ceneri's appropriation of our fortunes for patriotic purposes had left us penniless, a large portion

of the money, if not all, would be freely returned to us. You must have friends in England who would assist

you in gaining the ear of King Victor. I have friends in Italy. Garibaldi for in. stance, would vouch for the

His tale was plausible, and, after all, his scheme was not altogether visionary.

I was beginning to think he might really be my wife's brother, and that Ceneri had, for some purpose of his

"But I have not," he replied, with a frank laugh. "I think you ought for the sake of your wife to join me in the

"CertainlyI am in no hurry. I will in the meantime get my papers and petition in order. And now may I see

"Poor girl! then I fear she will not recognize me. We have spent very few days together since we were

children. I am, of course, much her senior; and from the age of eighteen have been plotting and fighting.

I was still far from putting any faith in the man; besides, there were his words on a former occasion to be

"Then, Mr. March, I must ask you now to tell me the particulars of the shock which deprived my wife of her

"I will ask pardon for them and apologize, as I know I spoke hastily and thoughtlessly, but having forgotten, I

I said nothing, feeling uncertain whether he was playing a deep game with me or not.

"I know," he continued, "that I was furious at hearing of Pauline's marriage. In her state of health Ceneri

should never have allowed itand then, Mr. Vaughan, I had set my heart upon her marrying an Italian. Had

she recovered, my dream was that her beauty would win her a husband of the highest rank."

Any reply I should have made was prevented by the entrance of Pauline. I was intensely anxious to see what

She looked at him with eyes full of curious wonder, but shook her head as one in doubt. He took her hand. I

"Poor girl, poor girl!" he said. "This is worse than I expected, Mr. Vaughan. Pauline, it is long since we have

Her large troubled eyes were riveted on his face; but she made no sign of recognition.

She passed her hand across her forehead, then once more shook her head. "Non me ricordo," she murmured;

then, as if the mental effort had exhausted her, sank, with a weary sigh, upon a chair.

I was delighted to hear her speak in Italian. It was a tongue she seldom used unless compelled to do so. That

she employed it now showed me she must, in some dim way, connect the visitor with Italy. It was to me a

There was another thing I noticed. I have said how seldom it was that Pauline raised her eyes to any one's

face; but today, during the whole time Macari was in the room, she never looked away from him. He sat

near her, and after a few more words to her, he addressed his remarks exclusively to me. All the while I could

see my wife watching him with an eager, troubled look; several times, indeed, I almost persuaded myself that

there was an expression of fear in her eyes. Let them express fear, hate, trouble, even love, so long as I could

see the dawn of returning reason in them! I began to think that if Pauline was to be restored, it would be

So when he took his leave I pressed him, with no assumed manner, to call again very soontomorrow, if

After his departure Pauline fell into a restless state. Several times I saw her pressing her hand to her forehead.

She seemed unable to sit still. Now and again she went to the window and looked up and down the street. I

paid no attention to her actions, although once or twice I saw her turn her eyes toward me with a piteous,

imploring glance. I believed that somethingsome old memory in connection with Macariwas striving to

force itself to her clouded brain, and I looked forward with impatience to tomorrow, when he would pay us

another visit The man had something to get out of me, so I felt certain I should see him again.

He came the next day, and the next, and many other days. It was clear he was determined to ingratiate me, if

possible. He did all he could to make himself agreeable, and I must say he was, under the present

circumstances, very good company. He knew, or professed to know, all the ins and outs of every plot or

political event of the last ten years, and was full of original anecdotes and stirring experiences. He had fought

under Garibaldi through the whole of the Italian campaign. He had known the interior of prisons, and some of

his escapes from death had been marvellous. I had no reason to doubt the truth of his tales, although I

mistrusted the man himself. Let his smile be as pleasant as he could make itlet his laugh ring out

naturallyI could not forget the expression I had seen on that face, or his manner and words on former

I took care that Pauline should always be with us It was the only wish of mine the poor child had ever shown

even a mute disinclination to comply with. She never spoke in Macari's presence, but her eyes were scarcely

ever turned from him. He seemed to have a kind of fascination for her. When he entered the room I could

hear her sigh, and when he left it she breathed a breath of relief; and every day she grew more restless,

uneasy, and, I knew, unhappy. My heart smote me as I guessed I was causing her pain; but, at all cost, I

determined to persevere. I felt that the crisis of her life was fast drawing near.

One evening, after dinner, as Macari and I sat over our claret, and Pauline, with her troubled eyes fixed, as

usual, on my guest, was reclining on the sofa a little way off, he began to relate some of his military

adventures. How once, when in imminent perilhis right arm broken and useless at his side, his left arm not

strong enough to wield the rifle with the bayonet fixedhe had taken the bayonet off, and holding it in his

left hand, had driven it through the heart of an antagonist. As he described the deed, he suited the gesture to

the word, and seizing a knife which lay on the table, dealt a downward blow through the air at an imaginary

I heard a deep sigh behind me, and, turning, I saw Pauline lying with her eyes closed, and apparently in a

dead faint. I ran to her, raised her up, and carrying her to her room, laid her on her bed. It was now about nine

o'clock. Priscilla happened to be out, so I ran back to the diningroom and bade Macari a hasty goodnight.

Then I returned to my wife's bedside, and began the usual course of restoratives. Yet without success. White

as a statue she lay there, her soft breathing and the faint throb of her pulse only telling that she was alive. She

lay there without sense or motion, while I chafed her hands, bathed her brow, and endeavored to recall her to

life. Even while doing so my heart was beating wildly. I felt that the moment had come; that something had

brought back the past to her, and that the fierce rush with which it came had overpowered her. I could

scarcely dare to put my wild belief into words, but it was that when Pauline again opened her eyes they would

shine with light which I had never known in themthe light of perfectly restored intelligence. A wild, mad

So it was that I did not send for a doctor; that after a while I gave up my own attempts to awaken

consciousness; that I resolved to let her lie in that calm, senseless state until she awoke of her own accord. I

took her wrist between my fingers, that I might feel every beat of her pulse. I laid my cheek against hers, that

I might catch the sound of every breathand thus I waited until Pauline should awake, and, as I fondly

She remained in this state for at least an hour. So long that at last I began to get frightened, and think I must,

after all, send for medical aid. Just as I was forming the resolution to do so, I noticed the beats of her pulse

grow stronger and more rapid; I felt her breath drawn deeper; I saw a look of returning life steal over her

And then Paulinemy wife came back to lifeshe rose in the bed and turned her face to mine; and in her

I write this chapter with great reluctance. If I could make my tale connected and complete without it, I should

prefer to say nothing about the events it records. If some of my experiences have been strange ones, all save

these can be explained; but these never will, never can be explained to my satisfaction.

Pauline awoke, and, as I saw her eyes, I shuddered as if a freezing wind had passed over me. It was not

madness I saw in them, neither was it sense. They were dilated to the utmost extent; they were fixed and

immovable, yet I knew they saw absolutely nothing; that their nerves conveyed no impression to the brain.

All my wild hopes that reason would return at the expiration of her fainting fit, were at an end. It was clear

I spoke to her; called her by name; but she took no notice of my words. She seemed to be unaware of my

Suddenly she rose, and, before I could interpose to prevent her, passed out of the room. I followed her. She

went swiftly down the stairs, and I saw she was making for the front door. Her hand was on the latch when I

came up to her and again called her by name; entreating, even commanding her to return. No sound of my

voice seemed to reach her ears. In her critical state, for so I felt it to be, I shrank from restraining her by force,

thinking it would be better to leave her free to go as she listed; of course accompanying her to guard her

I caught up my hat and a large cloak, both of which were hanging in the hall; the latter I wrapped around her

as she walked, and managed to draw the hood over her head. She made no resistance to this, but she let me do

it without a word to show that she noticed the action. Then, with me at her side, she walked straight on.

She went at a swift but uniform pace, as one who had a certain destination in view. She turned her eyes

neither to the left nor rightneither up nor down. Not once during that walk did I see them move, not once

did I see an eyelid quiver. Although my sleeve was touching hers, I am certain she had no thought or

I made no further attempt to check her progress. She was not wandering about in an aimless manner.

Something, I knew not what, was guiding or impelling her steps to some set purpose. Something in her

disordered brain was urging her to reach some spot as quickly as possible. I dreaded the consequences of

restraining her from so doing. Even if it was but an exaggerated case of sleep walking it would be unwise to

She passed out of Walpole Street, and, without a moment's hesitation, turned at right angles and went along

the straight broad road. Along this road for more than half a mile she led me, then, turning sharply round,

An ordinary threestory house of the usual London type. A house differing very little from my own and

thousands of others, except that, by the light of the street lamp, I could see it looked illcared for and

neglected. The windowpanes were dusty, and in one of them was a bill stating that this desirable residence

I marvelled as to what strange freak of mind could have led Pauline to this untenanted house. Had any one

she had known in former days lived here? If so, it was, perhaps, a hopeful sign that some awakened memory

had induced her to direct her unwitting steps to a place associated with her earlier days. Very anxious, and

She went straight up to the door and laid her hand upon it, as though she expected it would yield to her touch.

"Pauline, dearest," I said, "let us go back now. It is dark, and too late to go in there tonight. Tomorrow, if

She answered not. She stood before that door with her hand pressing against it. I took her arm, and tried

gently to lead her away. She resisted with a passive strength I should not have believed she possessed.

Whatever was the dimly conceived object in my poor wife's brain, it was plain to me it could only be attained

I was quite willing to humor her. Having come so far, I feared to retreat. To cross her wishes in the present

There was no gleam of light upstairs or downstairs As you looked at the house you knew intuitively it was

uninhabited. The agent whose name appeared on the bill carried on business a mile away, and even if I had

ventured to leave Pauline and go in search of him, at this time of night my expedition would be fruitless.

As I cast around, wondering what was the best thing to dowhether to fetch a cab and carry my poor girl

into it, or whether to let her wait here until she recognized the impossibility of entering the house, and, at last

growing weary, chose to return home of her own accordas I debated these alternatives a sudden thought

struck me. Once before my latchkey had opened a strange door, it was within the bounds of possibility it

might do so again. I knew that uninhabited houses are often, from carelessness or convenience, left with

doors only latched. It was an absurd idea, but, after all, there was no harm in trying. I drew out my key, a

duplicate of that used on another occasion. I placed it in the keyhole without a hope of success, and, as I felt

the lock turn and saw the door yield, a thrill of something like horror ran through me for now that it had come

As the door opened, Pauline, without a word, without a gesture of surprise, without anything that showed she

was more aware of n y presence than before, passed me and entered first. I followed her, and, closing the

door behind me, found myself in perfect darkness. I heard her light quick step in front of me; I heard her

ascending the stairs; I heard a door open, and then, and only then, I summoned up presence of mind enough

to force my limbs to bear me in pursuitand my blood seemed to be iced water, my flesh was creeping, my

hair was bristling up, as, still in darkness, I crossed the hall and found the staircase without difficulty.

Why should I not find it, dark, pitch dark as it was I knew the road to it well! Once before I had reached it in

darkness, and many times besides, in dreams, had I crossed that space! Like a sudden revelation the truth

came to me. It came to me as the key turned in the lock. I was in that very house into which I had strayed

three years ago. I was crossing the very hall, ascending the same stairs, and should stand in the identical room

which had been the scene of that terrible unexpiated crime. I should see with restored sight the spot where,

blind and helpless, I had nearly fallen a victim to my rashness. But Pauline, what brought her here?

Yes, as I expected! as, in fact, I felt certain! The stairs the same and the lintel of the door in the exact place it

should be. I might be reacting the events of that fearful night, complete even to the darkness. For a moment I

wondered whether the last three years were not the dream; whether I was not blind now; whether there was

Where was Pauline? Recalled to myself, I realized the necessity of light. Drawing my matchbox from my

pocket I struck a vesta, and by its light I entered the room which once before I had entered with little hope of

My first thought, my first glance, was for Pauline. She was there, standing erect in the apartment, with both

hands pressed to her brow. The expression of her face and eyes was little changed; it was easy to see she

comprehended nothing as yet. But I felt that something was struggling within her, and I dreaded the moment

when it should take coherence and form. I dreaded it for her and I`dreaded it for myself. What awful passages

The wax light burned down to my fingers, and I was compelled to drop it. I struck another, then looked about

for some means of making the illumination sustained. To my great joy I found a halfburned candle in a

candlestick no the mantelpiece. I blew the thick dust out of the cup formed by the melted wax at the bottom

of the wick, and after a little spluttering and resistance, managed to induce it to remain lighted.

Pauline stood always in the same attitude, but I fancied her breath was quickening. Her fingers were playing

convulsively round her temples, fidgeting and pushing her thick hair back, striving, it seemed to me, to

conjure thought to return to that empty shrine. I could do nothing but wait; and while I waited I glanced

We were in a goodsized room, substantially but not fashionably furnished; the style altogether was that of

an ordinary lodginghouse. It was clear it had not been occupied for some time, as dust lay thick on every

article. I could throw my mind back and recall the very corner of the room in which I was stationed while the

assassins were so busily engaged. I could mark the spot where I fell upon the yet quivering body, and I

shuddered as I could not resist peering on the floor for traces of the crime. But if the carpet was the same one,

it was of a dark red hue and kept its secret well. At one end of the room were folding doorsit must have

been from behind these I heard those haunting sounds of distress. I threw them open, and, holding my candle

on high, looked in. The room was of much the same kind as the other one, but, as I fully expected, it

contained a pianothe very piano, perhaps, whose notes had merged into that cry of horror.

What possessed me! What impulse urged me! I shall never know. I laid down the candle; I entered the back

room; I lifted the dustcovered lid of the piano and I struck a few notes. Doubtless it was the tragical

associations of the scene which made me, without thinking why or wherefore, blend together the notes which

commenced that great song which I had heard as I lingered outside the door, listening to the sweet voice

singing, and wondering whose voice it was. As I struck those notes I looked through the folding door at the

A nervous trembling seemed to pass over her frame. She turned and came toward me, and there was a look in

her face which made me move aside from the piano, and wonder and fear what was to take place.

The cloak I had thrown around her had fallen from her shoulders. She seated herself on the music bench, and

striking the keys with a master hand, played brilliantly and faultlessly the prelude to the song of which I had

I was thunderstruck. Never till now had she shown the slightest taste for musicas I have said, it appeared

rather to annoy and irritate her. Now she was bringing out sounds which it seemed absurd to expect from that

But after the first few bars my astonishment ceased. As well as if I had been told, I knew what would

happenor part of it. I was even prepared, when the moment came for the voice to join the music, to hear

Pauline sing as faultlessly as she was playing, yet to sing in the same subdued manner as on that fatal night.

So fully prepared I was that with breathless emotion I waited until the song came to the very note at which it

finished when once before I listened to it. So fully prepared, that when she started wildly to her feet and

uttered once more that cry of horror, my arms were round her in a moment, and I bore her to a sofa close by.

To her, as well as to me, all the occurrences of that dreadful night were being reproduced. The past had come

What the reflux might do eventuallywhether it would be a blessing or a curseI had no time to consider.

All my cares were needed by Pauline. My task was terrible! I had to hold her down by main force, to

endeavor in every possible way to soothe her and prevent her cries, which rang so loudly that I feared the

neighbors would be alarmed. And all the while she struggled with me, strove to repulse me and regain her

feet; as certainly as if I could read her thoughts, I knew that whatever had happened formerly was once more

before her eyes. Once more she was being held down by a strong hand, most likely on the same couch, and

once more her struggles were gradually becoming feebler and her cries growing fainter. It needed only for the

latter to sink at last into a repetition of that dismal moan to make the picture, so far as she was concerned,

complete. The only difference was that the hands now laid upon her were loving ones.

All things up to the present situation, and all that I narrate after the termination of this chapter, I expect to be

believed. I do not say that such events and coincidences are of every day occurrence. Had they been so, I

should have no object in writing this tale. But I do say this, all else save this one thing I could prove to be

true, if not by direct by circumstantial evidence; all else can be explained either simply or scientifically; but

what follows I can only give my own word for. Call it what you like, dream, hallucination, overheated

imaginationcall it anything save inventionI shall not be annoyed. This is what happened.

Pauline at last lay still. Her moan had sunk into silence. She seemed once more to have lost all consciousness.

My one idea now was to remove her as speedily as possible from this fatal place. All sorts of strange thoughts

and speculations were thronging my brain. All sorts of hopes and fears were shaking me. What would the

My poor darling lay still and peaceful. I thought I would let her rest so for a few moments before I carried her

out. I dreaded what waking her might mean. So I took her hand and held it close in mine.

The candle was on the mantelpiece behind me. It threw little or no light into the front room, the folding

doors of which were only partially openthe half behind the couch on which Pauline lay being closed. It

was, therefore, impossible for me from my seat beside her to look into the front room. Indeed, as I sat there

I held my wife's hand for a few seconds, and then a strange undefinable feeling crept over methe kind of

feeling sometimes experienced in a dream in which two persons appear, and the dreamer cannot be certain

with which one's thoughts and acts he identifies himself. For a while I seemed to have a dual existence.

Although perfectly aware that I still occupied the same seat, still held Pauline's hand in mine, I was also

seated at the piano, and in some way gazed through the halfopened doors into the other room, and that room

Light so brilliant that in a glance I could see everything the apartment contained. Each article of furniture, the

pictures on the walls, the dark curtains drawn over the window nt the end, the mirror over the fireplace, the

table in the centre, on which a large lamp was burning. I could see all this, and more! For round the table

That man who was facing meleaning across the table on which his hands rested, whose features seemed

full of alarmed surprise, whose eyes were fixed on one object a few feet away from himthat man was

That man who was near the table on Ceneri's right handwho stood in the attitude of one ready to repel a

possible attack, whose face was fierce and full of passion, whose dark eyes were blazingthat man was the

Englishspeaking Italian, Macari, or, as he now styled himself, Anthony March, Pauline's brother. He also

The man in the backgrounda short, thickset man with a scar on his cheekwas a stranger to me. He

And the object they all looked at was a young man, who appeared to be falling out of his chair, and whose

hand grasped convulsively the hilt of a dagger, the blade of which was buried in his heart, buried I knew by a

All this I saw and realized in a second. The attitude of each actor, the whole scene surrounding was taken in

by me as one takes in with a single glance the purpose and meaning of a picture. Then I dropped Pauline's

Where was the lighted room? Where were the figures I had seen? Where was that tragic scene which was

taking place before my eyes? Vanished into thin air! The candle was burning dimly behind me, the front

It was a dream, of course. Perhaps, under the circumstances, not an unnatural one. Knowing what I knew

already of the crime which had taken place here; feeling sure that in some way Pauline had been present

when it was committed; excited by what had occurred tonightPauline's strange walk, her sudden bursting

into song, the very song I had before heard, that song with the dreadful endingit is no wonder that I

imagined a scene like this, and taking the only persons I knew who were in any way connected with my poor

But given that a man may dream the same dream twice, perhaps three times, there is no record of his

dreaming it as often as he willed. Yet this was my case. Again I took Pauline's hand, and again, after a few

moments' waiting, I felt the same strange sensation and saw the same awful sight. Not once, not twice, but

many times did this occur, until, skeptical as I was, as even I am now in such matters, I could only believe

that in some mysterious way I was actually gazing on the very sight which had met the girl's eyes when

It was only when our hands were in contact that the scene came before me. This fact strengthened my theory.

I felt thenI feel now, it is the true one. What peculiar mental or physical organization can have brought

about such an effect I am unable to say. Call it cataleptic, clairvoyant, anything you will, but it was as I relate.

Again and again I took Pauline's hand, and as I held it looked into that brilliantly lighted room.

Like the motionless figures in a tableau vivant, again and again, without a change of attitude or expression, I

saw Ceneri, Macari, and the man in the background looking at their victim. The appearance of the

lastnamed I studied very closely. Even with the agony of death on his face I could see he was supremely

handsome. His must have been a face that women love to look upon, and even through the horror of the

vision, a painful thought came to me as I wondered what might have been his relations with the girl who saw

Who had struck him? Without a doubt Macari, who, as I said, was standing nearest to him, in the attitude of

one expecting an attack. His hand might just have quitted the dagger hilt. His downward stroke had driven the

blade so deeply into the heart that death and the blow were all but simultaneous. This was what Pauline saw,

what perhaps she was seeing now, and what, by some strange power, she was able to show me as one shows

Ever since that night I have wondered how I found the presence of mind to sit there and repeatedly call up, by

the aid of that senseless girl by my side, that phantasmagoria It must have been the burning desire to fathom

the mysteries of that long past night, the wish to learn exactly what shock had disarranged my wife's intellect,

the indignation I felt at the cowardly murder, and the hope of bringing the criminals to justice, which gave me

strength to produce and reproduce that scene until I was satisfied that I knew all that dumb show could tell

me, until my heart smote me for letting Pauline lie so long in her present state.

Then I wrapped her cloak around her, raised her in my arms and bore her from the room, down the stairs to

the door. The hour was not late; I soon, by the aid of a passerby, summoned a cab, and in a very short time

Whatever strange power she had possessed of communicating her thoughts to me, it ceased as soon as we

were outside of that fatal house. Now and hereafter I could hold her hand, but no dream, vision, or

This is the one thing I cannot explainthe mystery at which I hinted when I commenced my tale. I have

related what happened; if my bare word is insufficient to win credence, I must be content on this one point to

Having placed the poor girl in Priscilla's motherly hands, I fetched the best doctor I could think of, and efforts

were at once made to restore consciousness. It was long before any sign of returning animation showed itself,

I need not give details of that return to life. After all, it was but a half return, and brought fresh terrors in its

train. When morning dawned it found Pauline raving with what I prayed was but the delirium of fever.

The doctor told me her state was a most critical one. There was hope for her life, but no certainty of saving it.

It was during those days of anxiety that I learned how much I loved my unhappy girl. How grateful I should

Her wild fevered words cut me to the heart. Sometimes in English, sometimes in soft Italian, she called on

some one; spoke words of deep love and sorrow; gave vent to expressions of fond endearment. These were

succeeded by cries of grief, and it seemed as if shudders of fear passed over her.

For me there was no word; no look of recognition. I, who would have given worlds to hear my name spoken

once, during her delirium, with an expression of love, was but a stranger at her bedside.

Whom was it she called for and lamented? Who was the man that she and I had seen slain? I soon

learnedand if my informant spoke the truth, he had, in so doing, dealt me a blow from which I should

It was Macari who struck it. He called on me the day alter Pauline and I had visited that house. I would not

see him then. My plans were not formed. For the time I could think of nothing save my wife's danger. But

I shuddered as I took the hand I dared not yet refuse him, although in my own mind I was certain that a

murderer's fingers were clasped round my own. Perhaps the very fingers which had once closed on my throat.

Unless Pauline recovered, the evidence I could bring would be of no weight. Even the victim's name was

unknown to me. Before the accusation would lie his remains must be found and identified. It was hopeless to

think of punishing the murderer, now that more than three years had elapsed since the crime.

Brother or not, I would unmask him. I would show him that the crime was no longer a secret; that an outsider

knew every detail. I would tell him this in the hope that his future would be haunted with the dread of a just

I knew the name of the street to which Pauline had led me. I had noticed it as we drove from it a few nights

ago, and the reason of my drunken guide's mistake was apparent. It was Horace Street. My conductor had

Macari had heard of Pauline's illness and delirium. He was as tenderly solicitous in his inquiries as a brother

Presently he changed the subject. "I scarcely like to trouble you at such a time, but I should be glad to know if

"That is easily done. Had poor Ceneri been with us, he would have vouched for it."

"Then, again," I said, looking him full in the face and speaking very slowly, "I must know why you murdered

Whichever the fellow feltfear or ragethe expression of his face was that of blank astonishment. Not, I

knew, the surprise of innocence, but of wonder that the crime should be known. For a moment his jaw

"On the 20th of August, 186, at No. Horace Street, you stabbed here, to the heart, a young man who

was sitting at the table. Dr. Ceneri was in the room at the time, also another man with a scar on his face."

He attempted no evasion. He sprang to his feet with features convulsed with rage. He seized my arm. For a

moment I thought he meant to attack me, but found he only wanted to scan my face attentively. I did not

shrink from his inspection. I hardly thought he would recognize me, so great a change does blindness make in

He walked once or twice up and down the room, and then with regained composure stood in front of me.

"You are a great actor, Mr. Vaughan," he said, with a coolness and cynicism which appalled me. "You

He shrugged his shoulders. "Why should I, to an eyewitness? To others I will deny it fast enough. Besides,

"Certainly; as you married my sister. Now, my fine fellow! my gay bridegroom! my dear brotherinlaw! I

will tell you why I killed that man and what I meant by my words to you at Geneva."

His air of bitter, callous mockery, as he spoke these words, made me dread what was to come. My hands

"That manI shall not for obvious reasons tell you his namewas Pauline's lover. Translate 'lover' into

Italianinto what the word drudo signifies in that languagethen you will understand my meaning. We, on

our mother's side have noble blood in our veinsblood which brooks no insult. He was Pauline's, your

wife's, lover, I say again. He had no wish to marry her, and so Ceneri and I killed himkilled him in

Londoneven in her presence. As I told you once before, Mr. Vaughan, it is well to marry a woman who

I made no reply. So hideous a statement called for no comment. I simply rose and walked toward him

He saw my purpose written in my face. "Not here," he said hastily, and moving away from me: "what good

can it do herea vulgar scuffle between two gentlemen? No; on the Continentanywhere, meet me, and I

He spoke well, the selfpossessed villain! What good could it do? An unseemly struggle, in which I could

scarcely hope to kill him; and Pauline the while perhaps upon the point of death!

"Go," I cried, "murderer and coward! Every word you have ever spoken to me has been a lie, and because

you hate me, you have today told me the greatest lie of all. Go; save yourself from the gallows by flight."

He gave me a look of malicious triumph and left me. The air in the room seemed purer now that he no longer

Then I went to Pauline's room, and sitting by her bed heard her parched lips ever and ever calling in English

or Italian on some one she loved. Heard them beseeching and warning, and knew that her wild words were

addressed to the man whom Macari averred he had slain because he was the lover of his sistermy wife!

The villain lied! I knew he lied. Over and over again I told myself it was a black, slanderous liethat Pauline

was as pure as an angel. But, as I strove to comfort myself with these assertions, I knew that, lie as it was,

until I could prove it such, it would rankle in my heart; would be ever with me; would grow until I mistook it

for truth; would give me not a moment's rest or peace, until it made me curse the day when Kenyon led me

How could I prove the untruth? There were but two other persons in the world who knew Pauline's

historyCeneri and old Teresa. Teresa had disappeared and Ceneri was in the Siberian mines or some other

living grave. Even as I thought of the old Italian woman, Macari's slander began to throw forth its first

poisonous shoots. Her mysterious words, "not for love or marriage," might bear another meaning, a

dishonorable meaning. And other circumstances would come to me. Ceneri's haste to get his niece

marriedhis wish to get rid of her. Thoughts of this sort would steal into my mind until they halfmaddened

I could bear to sit with Pauline no longer. I went out into the open air and wandered about aimlessly, until

two ideas occurred to me. One was that I would go to the greatest authority on brain diseases, and consult

him as to Pauline's hope of recoverythe other that I would go to Horace Street and examine, by daylight,

To him I told everything, saving, of course, Macari's black lie. I could see no other way to explain the case

without confiding fully. I most certainly succeeded in arousing his interest. He had already seen Pauline and

knew exactly the state in which she had been. I think he believed, as many others will, all I told him except

that one strange occurrence. Even this he did not scoff at, accustomed as he was to wild fancies and freaks of

imagination. He attributed it to this cause which was but naturalAnd now what comfort or hope could he

"As I told you before, Mr. Vaughan," he said, "such a thing as losing the recollection of the past for a long

while and then picking up the end of the thread where it fell is not altogether unprecedented. I will come and

see your wife; but as the case now stands it seems to me it is an attack of brain fever, and as yet no specialist

is needed. When that fever leaves her I should like to know, that I may see her. It will, I expect, leave her

sane, but she will begin life again from the hour that her mind was first unhinged. You, her husband, may

even be as a stranger to her. The case, I say again, is not unprecedented, but the circumstances which

I left the doctor and walked to the agents in whose hands the house in Horace Street was placed. I obtained

the keys and made some inquiries. I found that at the time of the murder the house had been let furnished for

a few weeks to an Italian gentleman whose name was forgotten. He had paid the rent in advance, so no

inquiries had been made about him. The house had been vacant for a long time. There was nothing against it

except that the owner would only let it at a certain rent, which most people appeared to consider too high.

I gave my name and address aud took the keys. I spent the remainder of the afternoon in searching every

nook and cranny in the house, but no discovery rewarded my labor. There was, I believed, no place in which

the body of a victim could have been hidthere was no garden in which it might have been buried. I took

back the keys and said the house did not suit me. Then I returned home, and brooded on my grief, whilst

And day by day it went on working and gnawing, corroding and warping, until I was told that the crisis was

Which self? The self I had only known, or the self before that fatal night? With a beating heart I drew near to

her bedside. Weak, exhausted, without strength to move or speak she opened her eyes and looked at me. It

was a look of wonder, of nonrecognition, but it was the look of restored reason. She knew me not. It was as

the doctor had predicted. I might have been a total stranger to those beautiful eyes as they opened, gazed at

me, and then reclosed themselves wearily. I went from the room with tears running down my cheeks, and at

my heart a feeling of mingled joy and sorrow, hope and fear, which words will not express.

Then Macari's black lie came out from its lurking place and seized me as it were by the throatclung to me,

wrestled with mecried, "I am true! Push me away, I am still true. The lips of a villain spoke to me, but for

once he spoke the truth. If not for this, why the crime? Men do not lightly commit murder." Even then when

the moment I had prayed and longed for had comewhen sense, full sense, was given back to my poor

loveI was invaded, conquered, and crushed to the ground by the foul lie which might be truth.

"We are strangersshe knows me not," I cried. "Let me prove that this lie is a lie or let us be strangers

How could I prove it? How could I ask Pauline? Or asking her, how could I expect her to answer? Even if she

did, would her word satisfy me? oh that I could see Ceneri! Villain he might be, but I felt he was not such a

Thinking thus, I formed a desperate resolve. Men are urged to do strange and desperate things when life is at

stakewith me it was more than life. It was the honor, the happinesseverything of two people.

Yes, I would do it! Mad as the scheme seemed, I would go to Siberia, and if money, perseverance, favor, or

craft could bring me face to face with Ceneri, I would wring the truth, the whole truth from his lips!

Across Europehalfway across Asiafor the sake of an hour's interview with a Russian political prisoner!

It was a wild scheme, but I was determined to carry it out If my plan was a mad one, I would, at least, insure

a chance of its success by putting all the method I could in my preparations. I would not rush wildly to my

journey's end and find it rendered fruitless by the stupidity or suspicion of some one vested with brief

authority. No; I must go armed with credentials which no one would dare to dispute. Money, one of the most

important of all, I had plenty of, and was ready to use freely; but there were others which were indispensable;

my first step would be to obtain these. I could go quietly and systematically to work, for it would be days

before I could venture to leave Pauline. Only when all chance of danger was at an end could I begin my

So during those days whilst the poor girl was gradually, but very, very slowly, regaining strength, I looked up

what friends I possessed among the great people of the land, until I found one whose position was such that

he could ask a favor of a far greater man than himself, and, moreover, expect that it should be granted without

delay. He did this for my sake with such efficacy that I received a letter of introduction to the English

ambassador at St. Petersburg, and also the copy of a letter which had been forwarded him containing

instructions on my behalf. Each of the letters bore an autograph which would insure every assistance being

given to me. With these, and the addition of a letter of credit for a large amount on a St. Petersburg bank, I

But before I left, Pauline's safety and wellbeing during these months of absence must be considered. The

difficulties this presented almost made me abandon, or, at least, postpone, the execution of my plan. Yet I

knew it must be carried out to the very letter, or Macari's lie would ever stand between my wife and myself.

Better I should go at once, while we were strangers; better, if Ceneri byword or silence confirmed the

Pauline would be left in good hands. Priscilla would do my bidding faithfully and fully. The old woman was

by this time quite aware that her charge had awakened to both memory and new forgetfulness. She knew the

reason why for days and days I had not even entered the room. She knew that I considered Pauline, in her

present state, no more my wife than when I first met her in Turin. She knew that some mystery was attached

to our relations with each other, and that I was bound upon a long journey to clear this up. She was content

My instructions were minute. As soon as she was well enough Pauline was to be taken to the seaside.

Everything was to be done for her comfort and according to her wishes. If she grew curious she was to be

told that some near relation, who was now journeying abroad, had placed her in Priscilla's hands, where she

was to stay until his return. But, unless the recollection of the past few months came to her, she was to be told

nothing as to her true position as my wife. Indeed, I doubted now if she was legally my wifewhether, if she

wished, she might not annul the marriage by stating that at the time it took place she was not in her right

mind. When I returned from my expeditionif things were right, as I told myself they must be, all would

I had ascertained that, since the departure of the fever, Pauline had said nothing about the terrible deed she

had witnessed three years ago. I feared that when her health was reestablished her first wish would be to

make some stir in the matter. It was hard to see what she could possibly do. Macari, I learned, had left

England the day after I accused him of crime; Ceneri was out of reach. I hoped that Pauline might be induced

to remain quiet until my return; and I instructed Priscilla, in the event of her recurring to the subject of a great

crime committed by persons she knew, to inform her that all was being done to bring the guilty to their

deserts I trusted she would, with her usual docility, rest contented with this scarcely correct assertion.

Priscilla was to write to meto St. Petersburg, Moscow, and other places I must stop at, going and returning.

I left directed envelopes with her, and would send from St. Petersburg instructions as to the dates when the

All except one thing. Tomorrow morning I must start. My passport is duly signed; my trunks are

packedevery thing ready. Once, once for a moment I must see her before I sleep tonightsee her it may

be for the last time. She was sleeping soundlyPriscilla told me so. Once more I must look upon that

I crept upstairs and entered her room. I stood by the bedside and gazed with eyes full of tears on my

wifeyet not my wife. I felt like a criminal, a desecrator, so little right, I knew, I had to be in that room. Her

pale pure face lay on the pillowthe fairest face in all the world to me. Her bosom rose and fell with her soft

regular breathing. Fair and white as an angel she looked, and I swore, as I gazed on her, that no word of man

I would have given worlds for the right to lay my lips on hers! to have been able to awake her with a kiss, and

see those long dark lashes rise, and her eyes beam with love for me. Even as it was I could not refrain from

kissing her gently on the temple, just where the soft thick hair began to grow. She stirred in her sleep, her

The next day I was hundreds of miles away, and my mind was in a sterner frame. If when I reached, if ever I

did reach, Ceneri, I found that Macari had not liedfound that I had been fooled, cajoled, made a tool of, I

should, at least, have the grim consolation of revenge. I should be able to gloat upon the misery of the man

who had deceived me and used me for his own purposes. I should see him dragging out his wretched life in

chains and degradation I should see him a slave, beaten and illtreated. If this was the only reward I should

reap it would repay me for my long journey. Perhaps, considering all that had passed and my present anxiety

and dread, this unchristian state of mind was not unnatural to an ordinary son of Adam.

St. Petersburg at last! The letter I bear, and the letter already received on my account, insure me a gracious

reception from her majesty's noble representative in the Russian capital. My request is listened to attentively;

not scouted as ridiculous. I am told it is unprecedented, but the words impossible to be granted are not used.

There are difficulties, great difficulties, in the way, but, as my business is purely of a domestic nature, with

no political tendency, and as the letters bear the magic autograph of a person whom the noble lord is eager to

oblige, I am not told that the obstacles are insuperable. I must wait patiently for days, it may be weeks, but I

can be sure that everything will be done that can be done. There is, at present, or so the newspapers say, a

little friction between the two Governments. Sometimes this is shown by requests more simple than mine

Ah! that I cannot say. I only know him as a doctor named Cenerian Italianan apostle of

freedompatriotconspirator. I was not foolish enough to imagine he had been tried and sentenced under

Lord was certain that no one of that name has been sentenced within the last few months. That

mattered little. Permission accorded, with the data I had given, the man would at once be identified by the

"And one word of caution, Mr. Vaughan," said his lordship. "You are not in England. Remember that a hasty

word, even a look; a casual remark to any stranger you sit next at dinner, may utterly defeat your ends. The

I thanked him for his advice, although I needed no warning. The truth is that an Englishman in Russia has an

even exaggerated dread of spies and the consequences of a loose tongue. More of us are looked upon with

suspicion from our taciturnity than from our garrulity. I was not likely to err on the latter point.

I went back to my hotel, and for the next few days whiled away the time as best I could. Not that, under

ordinary circumstances, I should have found much difficulty in so doing. St. Petersburg was one of the places

I had always wished to visit. Its sights were new and strange to me; its customs worth studying; but I took

little interest in anything I saw. I was longing to be away in pursuit of Ceneri.

I was not foolish enough to pester the ambassador and make myself a nuisance. Believing he would do all he

could, I waited patiently and in silence until I received a letter asking me to call at the embassy. Lord

"It is all settled," he said. "You will go to Siberia armed with authority which the most ignorant jailor or

soldier will recognize. Of course, I have pledged my honor that in no way will you connive at the convict's

"First of all," he said, "my instructions are to take you to the palace. The Czar desires to see the eccentric

Englishman who wishes to make such a long journey in order to ask a few questions."

I would right willingly have declined the honor, but as there was no chance of escaping from it, nerved

myself to meet the autocrat as well as I could. The ambassador's carriage was at the door, and in a few

I retain a confused recollection of gigantic sentries, glittering officers, gravelooking ushers and other

officials; noble staircases and halls; paintings, statues, tapestry and gilding; then, following my conductor, I

entered a large apartment, at one end of which stood a tall noblelooking man in military attire; and I realized

that I was in the presence of him whose nod could sway millions and millions of his fellowcreaturesthe

Emperor of all the Russiasthe White Czar Alexander II.the sovereign whose rule stretches from the

Two years ago when the news of his cruel death reached England, I thought of him as l saw him that dayin

the prime of life, tall, commanding and graciousa man it does one good to look at. Whetherif the whole

truth of his great ancestor Catharine the Second's frailties were knownthe blood of a peasant or a king ran

To me he was particularly kind and condescending. His manner set me as much at my ease as it is possible

for a man to be in such august company. Lord presented me by name, and after a proper reverence I

He looked at me for a second from his towering height. Then he spoke to me in French, fluently and without

He spoke in a quick, stern way which showed that he admitted of no prevarication. I hastened to assure him

"Rather an enemy, your majesty; but my happiness and my wife's happiness are at stake."

He smiled at my explanation. "You English are good to your wives. Very well, Mr. Vaughan, it shall be as

you wish. The Minister of the Interior will provide you with the fullest passports and authorities. Bon

Thus dismissed, I bowed myself out, praying mentally that no redtapism or bureaucracy might delay the

In three days I received them. The passport authorized me to travel to the end of the Czar's Asiatic dominions

if I thought fit, and was worded in such a way that it obviated the necessity of obtaining a fresh passport

whenever a fresh government district was to be traversed. It was not until I found the trouble, annoyance, and

delay I was saved by this magic strip of paper, that I fully realized how much favor had been shown me.

Those few words of writing, unintelligible to me, were a magic spell, the potency of which none are to resist.

But now, armed with power to travel, the question was, where must I go? To ascertain this, I was taken to one

of the heads of the police. To him I explained my case. I described Ceneri, gave him what I supposed was

about the date of his crime and trial, and begged for information as to the best means to adopt to find him in

I was most civilly treated. Indeed, for courtesy commend me to the Russian official when you are properly

and powerfully accredited. Ceneri was at once identified, and his right name and secret history given to me. I

There is no need to make it public. There are many men in Europe who believe in the disinterested character

and noble aims of the unfortunate convict; men who mourn him as a martyr. Perhaps in the cause of liberty he

was singlehearted and nobleminded. Why should I distress his followers by revealing any dark secrets of

I learned from the suave, obliging Russian chief of police, that a few weeks after I had seen him in Geneva,

Ceneri had been arrested in St. Petersburg. A deeply laid plot, involving the assassination of the Czar and

several members of the government, had been revealed through the treachery of a confederate. The police

fully cognizant of everything, had waited until the pear was nearly ripe, and then struck with dire results to

the plotters. Scarcely one of the principals escaped and Ceneri, one of the most deeply implicated, was shown

scant mercy. He certainly had few claims on their consideration. He was no Russian groaning under

oppression and despotic government. Although he called himself Italian, he was, in truth, cosmopolitan. One

of those restless spirits who wish to overturn all forms of government, save that of republican. He had plotted

and schemedeven fought like a manfor Italian freedom. He had been one of Garibaldi's most trusted

workmen; but had turned fiercely against his master when he found Italy was to be a kingdom, not the ideal

republic of his dreams. Latterly he had directed his attention to Russia, and the plot he was engaged in having

been betrayed, his career, in all human probability, was ended. After lying many months in the fortress of St.

Peter and St. Paul, he was tried and condemned to twenty years' hard labor in Siberia. Some months ago he

had been dispatched to his destination, and, my informant added, was considered to have been dealt with

Where was he now? That could not be said for certain. He might be at the Kara gold washings, at the

Ustkutsk saltworks, at Troitsk, at Nertschinsk. All convicts were first sent to Tobolsk, which was a kind of

general rendezvous; thence they were drafted off, at the pleasure of the GovernorGeneral, to various places

If I wished, the Governor of Tobolsk should be telegraphed or written to; but, as I was bound any way to go

to that town, it would be just as well if I made my inquiries in person. To this I quite agreed, mistrusting the

speed of the Russian post or the newly opened telegraph. I was ready to start tomorrow.

So, after getting all the hints and information I could, I thanked the chief for his courtesy, and with my

precious papers in my pocket, went to complete my preparations for my journey; a journey which might be a

thousand or two thousand miles longer or shorter, according to where it had pleased the Governor of Tobolsk

Before I started I received a letter from Priscillaone of those labored and rather misty epistles usually

written by people of her station in life. It told me that Pauline was well; that she was willing to be guided by

Priscilla's advice, and to remain with her until the return of her unknown relation or friend. "But, Master

Gilbert," the letter went on, "I am sorry to say I believe she is not quite right at times. The poor young lady

talks wildly about an awful crime; but she says she is content to wait for justice to be done, as some one she

has seen in her dreams during her illness is working for her. She doesn't know who it is, but it is some one

This intelligence made me feel easier. Not only did it show me that Pauline would wait quietly until my

return, but also that some glimmering of the immediate past might be dawning upon her. The closing lines of

"This afternoon, Master Gilbert, she seemed to discover for the first time that she had a wedding ring on her

finger. She asked me how it came there. I told her I could not say. Then she sat for hours and hours twisting it

round and round, thinking and thinking. I asked her, at last, what she was thinking of. 'Dreams I am trying to

remember,' said she, with that pretty quiet smile of hers. I was dying to tell the dear young lady that she was

my own master's lawful wife. I was afraid she would take the ring off, but she didn't, thank God!"

Yes, thank God, she did not! As I read Priscilla's letter I yearned to turn homeward and fly back to my wife.

But I conquered the inclination, although I felt more and more certain that my meeting with Ceneri would be

a happy one for me; that I should return, and, if necessary, once more place that ring on her finger and claim

her as my own, knowing that she was purer than the gold of which that shining circlet was made.

It was midsummer when I left St. Petersburg. The heat was oppressive and quite disturbed my idea of the

Russian climate. I went by rail to Moscow, by the iron road which runs straight as a line from the one large

city to the other. The Czar ordered it to be so made, without curves or deviations. When the engineers asked

him what populous places they should take on their way, his Imperial Majesty took a ruler and on the map

ruled a straight line from St. Petersburg to Moscow. "Make it so," were his commands, and so it was made, as

rigid and careless of the convenience of other persons as his own despotisma railway for some four

hundred miles running simply to its destination, not daring, however much tempted, to swerve aside and

At Moscow the colossal I lingered a couple of days It was there I had settled to engage a guide and

interpreter. As I spoke two or three languages besides my own, I was able to pick and choose, and at last

selected a pleasantmannered, sharplooking young fellow who averred that he knew every inch of the great

post road to the east. Then bidding farewell to the mighty Kremlin with its churches, watchtowers, and

battlements, I started with my new companion for Nijnei Novgorod; at which place we must bid adieu to the

We passed the old picturesque but decaying town of Vladimir, and after duly admiring its fivedomed

cathedral I found nothing more to distract my attention until we reached Nijnei. My companion was very

anxious that we should linger for a day or two at this city. The great fair was on, and he assured me it was a

sight not to be missed. I had not come to Russia to look at fairs or festivities, so commanded him to make

We now changed our mode of conveyance. Being summer the rivers were open and navigation practicable.

We took the steamer and went down the broad Volga till we passed Kasan and reached the river Kama. Up

this tortuous stream we went until we landed at the large important town of Perm.

We were five days on the waterI think the five longest days I ever spent. The winding river, the

slowgoing steamer, made me long for the land again; there one seemed to be making progress. The road

there was straight, not running into a hundred bends. We were now nearly at the end of Europe. A hundred

At Perm we made our final preparations. From now we must depend on posthorses. Ivan, my guide, after

the proper amount of haggling, bought a tarantassa sort of phaeton. The luggage was stowed into it; we

took our seats; our first relay of horses were engaged three in number and harnessed in the peculiar Russian

fashionthe yemschik started them with the words of encouragement and endearment which in Russia are

supposed to be more efficacious than the thong, and away we went on our long, long drive.

We crossed the Urals, which after all are not so very high. We passed the stone obelisk erected, Ivan told me,

in honor of a Cossack chief named Yermak. We read the word "Europe" on the side which first met our eyes,

and turning round saw "Asia" written on the back. I spent my first night in Asia at Ekaterineburg and lay

awake the best part of it trying to calculate how many miles stretched between Pauline and myself.

For days and days have passed since I left St. Petersburg, and I have travelled at all possible speed; yet the

journey seems scarcely begun. Indeed, I cannot even guess at its length until I get to Tobolsk. A trifle of some

four hundred miles from Ekaterineburg to Tiumen, another of two hundred from Tiumen to Tobolsk, and I

shall await the pleasure of the GovernorGeneral and what information he may choose to give me.

The carriage and ourselves are ferried across the broad yellow Irtuishthat river, the crossing of which by a

Russian officer at once raises him a step in rank: for such is the inducement held out to serve in Siberia; and

Tobolsk at last! The sight of my passports renders the Governor civility itself. He invited me to dine with him

and, as for prudential reasons I thought it better to accept his invitation, treated me royally. His register told

me all I wanted to know about Ceneri. He had been sent to the very extreme of the Czar's dominions, as his

was a case which called for special severity. Where he would finish his journey was not settled, but that made

little difference to me. As he would travel the greater part of the way on foot, and as there was but one road, I

must overtake him; though he left Tobolsk months ago. The escort which accompanied that particular gang of

prisoners was under the command of Captain Varl�moff, to whom his Excellency would write a few lines

which I should take with mehe would also give me a supplementary passport signed by himself.

I bade the great man a grateful adieu and spurred on at such speed that even the goodtempered Ivan began to

grumble. Man, even a Russian, was but mortal, he said, and I could not expect to find Arab steeds among

government posthorses which the postmasters were compelled to furnish at about twopence a mile a horse. I

left the yemschik and himself no time for refreshment. Their tea had not grown cool enough to swallow

Tea! Until I made that journey I never knew the amount of tea a mortal stomach could hold. One and all they

drank it by the gallon. They carried it about compressed into bricks, cemented, I heard with a shudder, by

sheep's or some other animal's blood. They drank it morn, noon, and night. Whenever there was a stoppage

and boiling water could be obtained, bucketfuls of tea were made and poured down their throats.

The impressions I retain of that long journey are not very deep. I was not traversing the country for the sake

of writing a book of travels, or to observe the manners and customs of the people. My great object was to

overtake Ceneri as quickly as possible, and my endeavors were directed to passing from one posting station

to another as swiftly as I could. We sped over vast steppes, wild marshes, through forests of birch, tall pines,

oak, ash, and other trees; we were ferried over broad rivers. On and on we went as straight to our destination

as the great postroad would take us. When nature forced us to rest we had to put up with such pitiful

accommodation as we could get. Unless the place at which we stopped was of some importance, inns were

unknown. By dint of practice I at last contrived to obtain almost enough sleep, if not to satisfy me, to serve

It was a monotonous journey. I turned aside to visit no objects of interest spoken of by travellers. From morn

to night, and generally through the greater part of the night, our wheels rolled along the road. And at every

posting station I read on the wooden post which stands in front of it the number of miles we were from St.

Petersburg, until, as the days and weeks passed, I began to feel appalled at the distance I had come and the

distance I must return. Should I ever see Pauline again? Who can say what may have happened before I

I think what made me realize the length of the journey even more than days or measured miles, was to see, as

we went on, the country people gradually changing their costume and dialect. The yemschiks who drove us

changed in appearance and in nationality; the very breed of the horses varied. But let man or cattle be of what

The weather was glorious, almost too glorious. The cultivated country we passed through looked thriving and

productive. Siberia was very different in appearance from what is usually associated with its name. The air

when not too warm was simply delicious. Never have I breathed a more invigorating and bracing atmosphere.

The people I thought fairly honest, and whenever I found a need of producing my papers the word civility

will scarcely express the treatment I received. How I should have been treated without these potent talismans

The whole countryside in most places was busy with the hayharvest; a matter of such importance to the

community at large that convicts are told off for some six weeks to assist in the work of saving the crops. The

wild flowers, many of them very beautiful, grew freely; the people looked well and contented. Altogether my

Yet I wished it had been the dead of winter. Then it is that, in spite of the cold, one travels more pleasantly.

Ivan assured me that when a good snow road is formed and a tarantass may be exchanged for a sledge, the

amount of ground passedover in a day is something marvellous. I am afraid from memory to say how many

miles may be covered in twenty four hours when the smoothgoing runners take the place of wheels.

We had, of course, various small accidents and delays on the road. However strongly built a tarantass may be

it is but mortal. Wheels broke, axletrees gave way, shafts snapped, twice we were overturned, but as no evil

Nor need I enumerate the towns and villages through which we passed, unless l wished to make my story as

interesting as a scriptural genealogyTara, Kainsk, Koliuvan, Tomsk, Achinsk, Krasnoyarsk, Nijnei Udinsk,

may or may not be familiar to the reader, according to the depth of his geographical studies; but most of the

others, even if I knew how to spell their names, would be nothing more than vain sounds. Perhaps, when we

trace the march of the Russian army destined to invade our Indian Empire we may become better acquainted

Yet at the entrance to each of these little towns or villages, the very names of which I have forgotten, so

surely as you found the wellappointed posting station, you found also a gloomy square building, varying

with the size of the place, surrounded by a tall palisade, the gates of which were barred, bolted, and

Here it was that the wretched convicts were housed as they halted on their long march. In these places they

were packed like sardines in a box. Prisons built to hold two hundred were often called upon to accommodate

at least twice that number of luckless wretches. I was told that when ice was breaking up in the rivers; when

the floods were out; when in fact the progress must perforce be delayed, the scenes at these prisons or depots

beggared description. Men, sometimes unsexed women with them, huddled into rooms reeking with filth, the

floors throwing out poisonous emanationsrooms built to give but scanty space to a small number, crowded

to suffocation. The mortality at times was fearful. The trials of the march were as nothing when compared to

the horrors of the so called rest. And it was in one of these ostrogs I should find Ceneri.

We passed many gangs of convicts plodding along to their fate. Ivan told me that most of them were in

chains. This I should not have noticed, as the irons are only on the legs and worn under the trowsers. Poor

wretched beings, my heart ached for them! Felons though they were, I could never refuse the charity they

invariably prayed for. So far as I could see they were not unkindly treated by the soldiers and officers, but

terrible tales were told me about their sufferings at the hands of inhuman jailors and commandants of prisons.

There, for the slightest infraction of the rules, the rod, the dark cell, and a variety of other punishments were

I always felt relieved when we had passed out of sight of a gang like this. The contrast between my own

position and that of such a number of my fellowmen was too painful to contemplateand yet if Ceneri did

not clear away every shadow of doubt from my mind I might retrace my steps a more miserable wretch than

Some week or ten days after leaving Tobolsk I began to make inquiries at every ostrog as to when Captain

Varl�moff's gang passed, and when I might expect to overtake it. The answers I received to the latter question

corresponded with that given me by the governorall agreed at Irkutsk, or just beyond. Day after day I

found we were gaining rapidly upon the party, and when at last we reached the large handsome town of

Irkutsk I rightly reckoned that I had reached the end, or nearly the end of my journey.

On inquiry I found Captain Varl�moff had not yet arrived. At the place where I had last inquired I had been

told he had passed through a day before, so it was evident we had overlooked and outstripped them. The best

I was not at all sorry to take a couple of days' rest after my fatigues I was not sorry to indulge once more in

the comforts of comparative civilization; yet nearly every hour I was sending down to inquire if the convicts

had arrived. More ardently than I had longed to reached Irkutsk, I longed to turn the horses' heads westward

I had heard no news from home since I left St. Petersburg. Indeed, I could not expect a letter, as after my

departure from Nijnei Novgorod, I had positively outstripped the post. On the road home I hoped to find

After I had kicked my heels in Irkutsk for two days I received the welcome news that Captain Varl�moff had

marched his prisoners to the ostrog at four o'clock that afternoon. I rose from my dinner and went with all

A man in plain clothesa civiliandemanding to be conducted to the presence of a Russian captain who

had just arrived from a long march, seemed almost too great a joke for the sentries to bear in a soldierlike

manner. Their stolid faces broke into scornful smiles as they asked Ivan if "the little father" had gone quite

mad. It required much firmness, much persuasion and a gratuity, which to the simple military mind

represented an unlimited quantity of "vodka," and consequently many happy drinking bouts, before I was

allowed to pass through the gates of the high palisade, and, with many misgivings on the part of my guide,

A fine fiercelooking young soldier, who glared at me for disturbing him; for having, by advice, adopted the

Russian costume, which by now was stained and frayed by travel, there was nothing to show him I was not a

It was delightful to see the change the perusal of the Tobolsk governor's letter made in the captain's

appearance. He rose, and with the greatest courtesy offered me a chair, and asked me in French if I spoke that

I assured him on that point, and finding I could dispense with Ivan's services, sent him outside to wait for me.

Varl�moff would not hear of commencing business until wine and cigarettes made their appearancethen he

"To speak in private with one of my convicts. Certainlythis letter places me at your commands. But which

"I know none of them by that name. Most of the names the political prisoners pass under are false ones.

"Then you had better come with me and try and pick him out among my unfortunates. Light another

He led the way, and soon we stood before a heavy door. At his command a jailor, armed with mighty keys,

"Follow me," said Varl�moff, with a long pull at his cigarette. I obeyed, and standing on the threshold had

From the stench which rushed through it, that open door might have been the entrance to some pestilential

cavern at the bottom of which all the impurities of the world were rotting and putrefying. As it passed you,

I recovered myself as best I could, and followed my guide into the grim interior. The door closed behind us.

Had I the power to describe the sights I saw when my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, I should not be

believed. The prison was spacious, but when the number of the prisoners was considered, it should have been

three times the size. It was thronged with wretched beings. They were standing, sitting, and lying about. Men

of all ages and, it seemed, of all nationalities. Men with features of the lowest human type. They were

huddled in groupsmany were quarreling, cursing, and swearing. Moved by curiosity they pressed around

us as closely as they dared, laughing and jabbering in their barbarous dialects. I was in a hell, an obscene,

Filth! the place was one mass of it. Filth under footfilth on the walls, the rafters and the beamsfilth

floating about in the hot, heavy, pestiferous air. Each man seemed to be a moving mass of filth. Zola would

revel in a minute description of the horrors of that place, but I must leave them to the imagination, although I

The only thing I could think of was this. Why did not these men rush out, overpower the guards, and escape

"They never attempt to escape whilst on the march," he said. "It is a point of honor among them. If one

"Yes, many do when they are sent to the works. But it does them no good. They must pass through the towns

on their flight or they would starve. Then they are always caught and sent back."

I was peering into all the faces about, trying to find the one I sought. My inspection was received with looks

sullen, suspicious, defiant, or careless. Remarks were made in undertones, but Varl�moff's dreaded presence

kept me from insult. I examined many groups without success, then I made a tour of the prison.

All along the wall was a slanting platform upon which men lay in various attitudes. Being the most

comfortable station, every inch of it was covered by recumbent forms. In the angle formed by the prison

walls I saw a man reclining, as if utterly worn out. His head sank down upon his breast, his eyes were closed.

There was something in his figure which struck me as familiar. I walked to him and laid my hand upon his

shoulder. He opened his weary eyes and raised his sad face. It was Manuel Ceneri!

He looked at me with an expression in his eyes which passed at once from hopelessness to bewilderment. He

seemed to be uncertain whether it was a phantom or a man he was looking at. He rose to his feet in a dazed,

stupefied way, and stood face to face with me, whilst his wretched fellowprisoners pressed curiously around

"I have come from England to see you. This is the prisoner I am looking for," I said, turning to the officer

who stood at my side, mitigating to some extent the noxiousness of the atmosphere by the cigarette he puffed

"I am glad you have found him," he said, politely. "Now the sooner we get outside the better, the air here is

Unhealthy! It was fetid! I was filled with wonder, as I looked at the bland Frenchspeaking captain at my

side, at the state of mind to which a man must bring himself before he could calmly stand in the midst of his

fellowcreatures and see such misery unconcernedlycould even think he was but doing his duty. Perhaps

he was. It may be the crimes of the prisoners forbade sympathy. But, oh! to stand there in the midst of those

poor wretches, turned for the time into little more than animals! I may be wrong but it seems to me that the

"Certainly; soyou are authorized to do. I am a soldier; you in this matter are my superior officer."

"I think not. I will find you a room here. Please follow me. Phew! that is a relief."

We were now outside the prison door and breathing fresh air once more. The captain led me to a kind of

office, dirty and furnished barely enough, but a paradise compared to the scene we had just quitted.

As he turned to leave me I thought of the miserable dejected appearance Ceneri had presented. Let him be the

greatest villain in the world, I could not keep from wishing to do some little thing to benefit him.

"He ought not to be hungry. He has the rations which government says are sufficient. But then you may be

hungry and thirsty. If so, I do not see how I can stop you sending for wine and foodof course for yourself."

I thanked him and forthwith despatched my guide in quest of the best wine and meat he could get. Wine,

when ordered by a gentleman, means in Russia but one thingchampagne. At an inn of any standing

champagne, or at least its substitute, wine of the Don, may be procured. My messenger soon returned with a

bottle of the real beverage and a good supply of cold meat and white bread. As soon as it was placed on the

I placed a chair for Ceneri, into which he sank wearily. As he did so I heard the jingle of the irons on his legs.

Then I told my interpreter to leave us. The soldier, who no doubt had received his orders, saluted me gravely

and followed his example. The door closed behind him, and Ceneri and I were alone.

He had somewhat recovered from his stupefaction, and as he looked at me I saw an eager, wistful expression

on his face. Drowning as he was, no doubt he caught at the straw of my unexpected appearance, thinking it

might assist him to freedom. Perhaps it was to enjoy a moment or two brightened by the faintest or wildest

"If the way seemed long to you, what has it been to me? You at least can return when you like to freedom and

He spoke in the quiet tone of despair. I had been unable to prevent my words sounding cold and my voice

being stern. If my coming had raised any hope in his heart, my manner now dispelled it. He knew I had not

"Whether I can go back to happiness or not depends on what you tell me. You may imagine it is no light

He looked at me curiously, but not suspiciously. I could do him no harmfor him the outer world was at an

end. If I accused him of fifty murders, and brought each one home to him, his fate could be no worse. He was

blotted out, erased; nothing now could matter to him, except more or less bodily discomfort. I shuddered as l

realized what his sentence meant, and in spite of myself, a compassionate feeling stole over me.

"I have much of importance to say, but first let me give you some wine and food."

"Thank you," he said, almost humbly. "You would scarcely believe, Mr. Vaughan, that a man may be reduced

to such a state that he can hardly restrain him self at the sight of decent meat and drink."

I could believe anything after the interior of the ostrog. I opened the wine and placed it before him. As he ate

His sufferings had wrought a great change in him. Every feature vas sharpened, every limb seemed

slighterhe looked at least ten years older. He wore the Russian peasants' ordinary garments, and these hung

in rags about him. His feet, swathed in fragments of some woollen material, showed in places through his

boots. The long, weary marches were telling their tale upon his frame. He had never given me the idea of

being a robust man, and as I looked at him I thought that whatever work he might be put to, it would not pay

the Russian Government for his sorry keep. But the probabilities were, they would not have to keep him long.

He ate not voraciously, but with a keen appetite. The wine he used sparingly. His meal being finished, he

glanced around as if in quest of something. I guessed what he wanted and passed him my cigarcase and a

For a while I had not the heart to interrupt the poor wretch. When he left me it must be to return to that hell

peopled by human beings. But time was slipping by. Outside the door I could hear the monotonous step of

the sentry, and I did not know what period of grace the polite captain might allow to his prisoner.

Ceneri was leaning back in his chair with a kind of dreamy look on his face, smoking slowly and placidly,

taking as it were, everything he could out of the luxury of a good cigar. I asked him to drink some more wine.

"Mr. Vaughan," he said; "yes, it is Mr. Vaughan. But who and what am I? Where are we? Is it London,

Geneva, or elsewhere? Shall I awake and find I have dreamed of what I have suffered?"

"And you are not come to bear me good news? You are not one of usa friend trying at the peril of your life

I shook my head. "I would do all I could to make, your lot easier, but I come with a selfish motive to ask

"Why not? I have nothing to fear, nothing to gain, nothing to hope. Falsehood is forced on people by

Ceneri sprang to his feet. The name of Macari seemed to bring him back to the world. He looked no longer a

"A traitor! a traitor!" he cried. "But for him I should have succeeded and escaped. If he were only standing in

your place! Weak as I am, I could find strength enough to cling on to his throat till the vile breath was out of

"Try and be calm, Dr. Ceneri," I said. "I have nothing to do with his plots and political treasons. Who is he?

"The only name I ever knew him by. His father was a renegade Italian who sent his son to live in England for

fear his precious blood should be spilt in freeing his country. I found him a young man and made him one of

us. His perfect knowledge of your tongue was of great service; and he foughtyes, once he fought like a

Ceneri's face, as he heard this intelligence, was enough to banish lie number one from my mind. My heart

leaped as I guessed that number two would be disposed of as easily. But there was a terrible revelation to be

A sickly look crept over his features as he spokea look the meaning of which I could not read.

"Anthony March!" gasped Ceneri "There is no such person. What did he wanthis object?" he continued

"That I should join him in a memorial to the Italian Government, asking for a return of some portion of the

Ceneri laughed a bitter laugh. "All grows clear," he said. "He betrayed a plot which might have changed a

government for the sake of getting me out of the way. Coward! Why not have killed me and only me? Why

"Sure! yes. I was sure when the man in the cell next to mine rapped it on the wall. He had means of

"Prisoners can sometimes talk to each other by taps on the wall which divides their cells. The man next me

was one of us. Long before he went raving mad from the months of solitary confinement, he rapped out, over

and over again, 'Betrayed by Macari.' I believed him. He was too true a man to make the accusation without

The easiest part of my task was over. Macari's assumed relationship to Pauline was disposed of. Now if

Ceneri would tell me, I must learn who was the victim of that crime committed years ago, and what was the

reason for the foul deed. I must learn that Macari's explanation was an utter falsehood, prompted by malice,

or else my journey would have benefited me nothing Is it any wonder that my lips trembled as I endeavored

"Now, Dr. Ceneri," I said, "I have a question of weightier import to ask. Had Pauline a lover before I married

He raised his eyebrows. "Surely you nave not come here to ask that questionto have a fit of jealousy

"She had a lover, for Macari professed to love her, and swore she should be his wife. But I can most certainly

"Not to my knowledge. But your manner, your words are strange. Why do you ask? I may have wronged you,

Mr. Vaughan, but save for the one thing her mind, Pauline was fit to be your wife."

"You did wrong meyou know it. What right had you to let me marry a woman whose senses were

I felt stern and spoke sternly. Ceneri shifted in his chair uneasily. If I had wished revenge it was here. Gazing

on this wretched, ragged, brokendown man, and knowing what awaited him when he left me, would have

I wanted no revenge on the man. His manner told me he spoke the truth when he denied that Pauline had ever

been in love. As, when last I gazed on her fair face, I knew it would, Macari's black lie had been scouted.

Pauline was innocent as an angel. But I must know who was the man whose death had for a while deprived

Ceneri was glancing at me nervously. Did he guess what I had to ask him? "Tell me," I said, "the name of the

young man murdered by Macari in London, in the presence of Pauline; tell me why he was killed?"

His face grew ashen. He seemed to collapseto sink back into his chair a helpless heap, without the power

"Tell me," I repeated"Stay, I will recall the scene to you, and you will know I am well informed. Here is

the table; here is Macari, standing over the man he has stabbed; here are you, and behind you is another man

with a scar on his cheek. In the back room, at the piano, is Pauline. She is singing, but her song stops as the

I had spoken excitedly. I had used gestures and words. Ceneri's ears had drunk in every syllable; his eyes had

followed every gesture. As I pointed to the supposed position of Pauline, he had looked there with a quick,

startled glance, as if expecting to see her enter the door. He made no attempt to deny the accuracy of my

I waited for him to recover. He was looking ghastly. His breath came in spasmodic gasps. For a moment I

feared he was about to die then and there. I poured out a glass of wine; he took it in his trembling hand and

Then he found his voice. "Why do you come here to ask me? Pauline could have told you. She must be well,

"You are wrong. She must have told you. No one else saw the crimethe murder: for a murder it was."

"Yes, there was another; there by an accident. A man who could hear but not see. A man whose life I pleaded

"You that man!" He looked at me more attentively."Yes: now the features come back to me. I always

wondered that your face seemed so familiar. Yes. I can understandI am a doctoryour eyes were operated

"You can see well nowbut then! I could not be mistaken, you were blindyou saw nothing."

Ceneri rose and in great agitation walked up and down the room, his chains rattling as he moved.

Then be turned to me. "Tell me how you have learned this? Teresa would die before she spoke. Petr�ff is

From his last words I presumed that Petr�ff was the third man I had seen, and also the fellowprisoner who

"Was it Macarithat doubledyed traitor? Nohe was the murderersuch an avowal would defeat his

"Believe you!" he cried, excitedly. "I would believe anything connected with that nightit has never left my

thoughtsMr. Vaughan, the truth has come to me in my captivity. I am not condemned to this life for a

political crime. My sentence is God's indirect vengeance for the deed you witnessed."

It was clear that Ceneri was not such a hardened human as Macari. He, at least, had a conscience. Moreover,

as he appeared to be superstitious, he would perhaps believe me when I told him how my accurate knowledge

"I will tell you," I said, "provided you pledge your honor to give me the full history of that fearful crime and

He smiled bitterly. "You forget my position, Mr. Vaughan, when you speak of 'honor.' Yet I promise all you

So I told him, as shortly and simply as I could, all that had occurred; all I had seen. He shuddered as I again

"Spare me," he said, "I know it all. Thousands of times I have seen it or have dreamed itit will never leave

me. But why come to me? Pauline, you say, is recovering her sensesshe would have told all."

"I would not ask her until I saw you. She is herself again, but I am a stranger to herand unless your answer

"You can only speak the truth. Listen. I taxed the murderer, your accomplice, with the crime. Like you he

For a moment I paused. I fixed my eyes upon him to catch every change of featureto read the truth in more

"He vowed to me that the young man was killed by your instructionsthat he wasoh God, how can I

repeat it!the lover of Pauline, who having dishonored her, refused to repair his fault. The truth! Tell me the

I almost shouted the last wordsmy calmness vanished as I thought of the villain who had, with a mocking

Ceneri, on the other hand, grew calmer as he grasped the purport of my question. Bad as the man might be,

even stained with innocent blood, I could have clasped him in my arms as I read in his wondering eyes the

"That young manthe boy struck down by Macari's daggerwas Pauline's brothermy sister's

Ceneri, having made this astounding announcement, threw his wasted arms across the rough table and laid his

head upon them with a gesture of despair. I sat like one stupefied, repeating mechanically, "Pauline's

brotherAnthony March!" Every vestige of the black lie was swept away from my mind; but the crime in

which Ceneri had been concerned assumed more fearful proportions. It was more dreadful than I had

suspected. The victim a near blood relationhis own sister's child! Nothing, I felt, could be urged to excuse

or palliate the crime. Even had he not ordered and planned it, he had been present; had assisted in hiding all

traces of it; had been, until recently, on terms of friendship with the man who had struck the blow. I could

scarcely control the loathing and contempt I felt for the abject wretch before me. My burning indignation

would scarcely allow me to ask him, in intelligible speech, the object of the cruel deed. But for once and all I

I was spared the necessity of asking the question I was trying to force to my lips. The convict raised his head

"Tell me all, first; the excuses may come afterward, if anything can be urged in excuse of the crime."

"None can be urged for the murder. For me, God knows I would willingly have let that bright boy live. He

"His mother's was Italy," replied Ceneri, almost fiercely. "He had our blood in his veins. His mother was a

He told me. In justice to a penitent man, I do not use his own words in retelling it. Without his accent and

stress they would sound cold and unemotional. Criminal he had been, but not so utterly black as my fancy

had painted him. His great fault was that in the cause of liberty any weapons were allowable, any crimes were

pardonable. We Englishmen, whose idea of tyranny and oppression is being debarred from the exercise of the

franchise, can neither understand nor sympathize with a man of his type. We may call the government

righteous or corrupt as we are Whigs or Tories, and one side happens to be in or out; but, at least, we are

ruled by our countrymen, elected by some of us for that purpose. Let us be for years and years at the mercy of

He and his sister were the children of respectable middleclass peoplenot noble as Macari asserted. He had

been given a liberal education, and adopted the profession of a doctor. His sister, from whom Pauline

inherited her great beauty, lived the life of an ordinary Italian girla duller life, perhaps, than many of them

led, as, following her brother's example, she refused to share in gayeties whilst the whitecoated foe ruled the

land. No doubt she would have been faithful to her mourning for her country had not love come upon the

scene. An Englishman named March saw the fair Italian girl, won her heart, wedded her and carried her away

in triumph to his native land. Ceneri never quite forgave his sister for her desertion and defection; but the

prospects opened before her by the marriage were so great that he made but little opposition to it. March was

a very rich man. He was the only son of an only son, which fact accounts for Pauline having, so far as Ceneri

knew, no near relatives on her father's side. For several years the young husband and his beautiful darkeyed

wife lived in great happiness. Two children, a son and a daughter, were born to them. When the son was

twelve and the daughter ten years old the father died. The widow, who had made few close friends in

England, and only loved the country for her husband's sake, flew back to her native land. She was cordially

welcomed by her old friends. She was considered fabulously wealthy. Her husband, in the first flush of his

passion, had made a will bequeathing every thing he possessed to her absolutely. Although children had since

come, so perfectly did he trust her that no change had been made as to the disposition of his property. So,

She had, until she met her future husband, loved her brother above every one in the world. She had echoed is

patriotism, sympathized with him in his schemes and listened to the wild plots he was always planning He

was some years older than she was, and upon her return to Italy she found him, outwardly, nothing more than

a quiet, hardworking, illpaid doctor. She marvelled at the change from the headstrong, visionary, daring

young man she had left. It was not until he was certain her heart had not forsaken her country that Ceneri

allowed her to see that under his prosaic exterior lurked one of the subtlest and ablest minds of all those

engaged in working out the liberation of Italy. Then all his old sway came back. She admired, almost

worshipped him. She, too, was ready to make any sacrifice when the time should come.

What she would have done had she been called upon it is impossible to say; but there is little doubt but her

fortune and her children's fortune would have been freely spent in the good cause. As it was, she died long

before the pear was ripe, and when she died, such was her faith in her brother, every thing was left in his

hands as sole trustee for her children. In her last moments the thought of her husband's decided English

proclivities made her exact a promise that both the boy and the girl should be given an English education.

Then she closed her eyes, and the orphans were left entirely to the trustee's mercy.

He obeyed her spoken commands to the letter. Anthony and Pauline were sent to English schools; but having

no friends in their father's native land, or all old friends having been lost sight of during their mother's

widowhood, the holidays were spent in Italy. They grew up almost as much Italian as English. Ceneri

husbanded, invested, and managed their fortune with care and in a businesslike way. I have no doubt, so far

Then the longedfor moment came! The great blow was to be struck. Ceneri, who had kept himself out of

little abortive plots, felt that now or never he must do all he could do for his country. He hailed the coming

man. He knew that Garibaldi was to be the saviour of his oppressed land. The first rash step had been taken

and led to success. The time and the man were at hand. Recruits were flocking by thousands to the scene of

war, but the cry was "money, money, money!" Money for arms and ammunitionmoney for stores, food and

clothingmoney for bribesmoney for everything! Those who furnished the sinews of war would be the

Why should he hesitate? Had his sister lived she would have given all the fortune she possessed as freely as

she would have given her life! Were not her children half Italian? Liberty laughed at such a small thing as

Except a few thousand pounds, he ruthlessly realized and sacrificed the whole of the children's inheritance.

He poured their thousands and thousands into the hands held out for them. The large sum was spent where it

was most wanted, and Ceneri averred that he freed Italy by the opportune aid. Perhaps he didwho can tell!

Titles and honors were afterwards offered him for this great though secret service. It makes me think better of

the man that he refused all reward. His conscience may have told him he had not robbed himself. Any way,

he remained plain Doctor Ceneri, and broke with his old leaders and friends when he found that Italy was to

He had kept, I said, a few thousand pounds. The boy and the girl were growing up, and their uncle thought

that even his patriotism permitted him to keep back enough to complete their education and start them in life.

Pauline was promising to be so beautiful that he troubled little about her future. A rich husband would set

everything right with her. But Anthonywho was becoming a wild, headstrong young fellowwas another

As soon the youth should reach man's estate, Ceneri had resolved to make a clean breast of his

defalcationsto tell him how the money had been spentto beg his forgiveness, and, if necessary, bear the

penalty of his fraudulent act. But so long as any money remained he delayed doing so. The young man, if

evincing no sympathy with his uncle's regeneration schemes and pursuit of liberty, fully believed in his

integrity. Feeling assured that when he came of age he would succeed to a splendid inheritance, swelled by

accumulated savings, he threw away money in a thousand and one extravagant ways, till Ceneri soon saw that

So long as he had the money in hand to meet Anthony's demands, he postponed the evil day of confession.

The idea, which Macari had tried to work out with my aid, of appealing to the Italian Government for a return

of some of the amounts expended, suggested itself to him; but to carry this out it would be necessary to let his

As the inevitable exposure drew near he dreaded it more and more. He had studied Anthony's character, and

felt sure that when he knew the truth his one wish would be take revenge on the fraudulent trustee. Ceneri

could see nothing before him but a welldeserved term of penal servitude. If the English law failed to touch

It seems to me that until this time he had committed no crime from which he could not absolve himself on the

grounds of patriotism; but now the desire to save himself from punishment grew upon him, and he

He had never felt any great affection for the two children. No doubt they had latterly appeared in the light of

wronged innocents who would one day demand a reckoning with him. They were in disposition too much

like their father for him to be greatly drawn toward them. He despised Anthony for his gay, frivolous lifea

life without plans or ambitionand contrasted it with his own. He honestly believed he was doing good

work in the world; that his plots and conspiracies quickened the steps of universal liberty. In his dark, secret

circle, he was a figure of considerable importance. If he were ruined and imprisoned he would be missed.

Had he not a right to weigh his own high purposes against the butterfly existence of his nephew?

So he reasoned and persuaded himself that, for the sake of mankind, he might do almost anything to save

Anthony March was now twentytwo. Trusting his uncle; careless and easy going; so long as his wants had

been supplied he had accepted, until now, the excuses made for deferring the settlement of his affairs.

Whether his suspicions had at last been awakened or not cannot be said; but recently he had taken another

tone, and was insisting that his fortune should be at once placed in his hands. Ceneri, whose schemes called

him for a time to England, pacified him by assuring that he would, during his stay in London, explain

The explanation must indeed be given now, as Anthony's last drafts had reduced the remnant of his father's

Now, as to Macari's part in the affair. He had been for years a useful and trusted agent of Ceneri's; but most

probably without the latter's lofty and unselfish aims. He appears to have followed conspiracy as a trade by

which money might be made. The fact, which seems beyond a doubt, that he fought bravely and

distinguished himself on the battlefield, may be accounted for by the natural ferocity of the man's nature,

Being mixed up in all his plots he was often at Ceneri's house, wherever for the time being it might be; and

on many occasions saw Pauline. He fell in love with her when she was but a young girl, and tried everything

he knew to win her heart. To her he was soft and kind. She had no reason to mistrust him, but she utterly

refused to give him the love he asked for. The pursuit went on at intervals for yearsthe man, to give him

his due, was constancy itself. Again and again Pauline assured him of the hopelessness of his suit, but after

Ceneri gave him no encouragement. He did not wish to offend him, and seeing that the girl was proof against

his blandishments, let things alone, hoping that Macari would grow weary of urging those requests which

were always met by refusals. He believed that he was not seeking Pauline for the sake of the money which

should have been hers. Macari knew what large sums Ceneri had poured into the patriot's treasury, and, no

Pauline remained at school until she was nearly eighteen; then she spent two years with her uncle in Italy. It

was a dull life for the girl, and she sighed audibly for England. Although meeting him seldom she was

passionately attached to her brother, and was greatly delighted when Ceneri told her that business would take

him for a while to London, and that she might accompany him. She was growing tired of Macari's pertinacity,

Ceneri, for the sake of receiving his many political friends at what hours of the day or night he chose, took a

furnished house for a short term. Pauline's disgust was great when she found that one of their first visitors

was Macari. His presence was so indispensable to Ceneri that he took up his abode with them in Horace

Street. As old Teresa, the doctor's servant, accompanied the party and waited upon them, the change to

Macari still persecuted the girl without success. At last, almost desperate, he formed the wild plan of trying to

enlist her brother on his side His idea was that Pauline's love for Anthony would induce her to yield to any

wish he expressed He was no particular friend of the young man's, but, having once rendered him a signal

service, felt himself entitled to ask a favor at his hands. Knowing that both brother and sister were penniless,

He called on Anthony and made his request Anthony, who seems to have been a proud, arrogant, and not a

very pleasant young man, simply laughed at his impertinence and bade him begone. Poor boy, he little knew

It may have been the retort made by Macari, as he departed in a whirlwind of rage, that opened Anthony's

eyes as to the jeopardy in which his fortune was placed. Any way he wrote at once to his uncle, insisting upon

an immediate settlement. In the event of any delay he would consult a solicitor, and if necessary take criminal

The moment which Ceneri had so long dreadedso long postponedhad come; only now, the confession,

Whether he would be amenable to the Italian or English law he did not know, but he felt certain that Anthony

would at once take steps to insure his arrest and detention. The latter, if only temporary, would ruin the

scheme upon which he was now engaged. At any cost Anthony March must be silenced for a time.

He assured me with the solemnity of a dying man that no thought of the dreadful means which effected this

was in his mind He had revolved many plans and finally settled on one which, although difficult to execute

and very hazardous, seemed to give the best promise of success. His intention was, with the assistance of his

friends and subordinates, to carry Anthony abroad and deposit him for some months in a lunatic asylum. The

confinement was only to be temporary; yet although Ceneri did not confess to it, I have little doubt but the

young man would have been asked to buy his freedom by a promise to forgive the misappropriation of the

And now as to carrying this precious plan into execution Macari, vowing vengeance for the words of insult,

was ready to aid in every way Petr�ff, the man with the scarred face, was the doctor's, body and soul. Teresa,

the old servant, would have committed any crime at her master's command. The necessary papers could be

obtained or forged. Let the conspirators get Anthony to visit them at the house in Horace Street and he should

leave it only as a lunatic in charge of his doctor and his keepers. It was a vile, treacherous scheme, the

success of which was very doubtful, necessitating, as it must, carrying the victim to Italy. How this was to be

done Ceneri did not exactly explainperhaps he had not quite worked out the details of the plotperhaps

the boy was to be druggedperhaps he counted upon his frantic state when he discovered the true position of

The first thing was to induce Anthony to come to Horace Street at an hour suitable for development of the

plot. Ceneri made his preparations; gave his instructions to his confederates, and then wrote to his nephew

Perhaps Anthony mistrusted his relative and his associates more than was suspected. Any way, he replied by

declining the invitation, but suggested that his uncle should call upon him instead. Then, by Macari's advice.

Pauline was made the innocent means of luring her brother to the fatal house. Ceneri expressed his perfect

indifference as to where the meeting took place, but, being very much engaged, postponed it for a day or two.

He then told Pauline that as business would keep him from home until late the next night, it would be a good

opportunity for her to spend some time with her brothershe had better ask him to come and see her during

his absence. As he also wished to see Anthony, she must endeavor to keep him until his return.

Pauline, suspecting nothing, wrote to her brother, and, saying she would be all alone until late at night,

begged him to come to her, or, if he would, take her to some place of amusement. They went to the theatre

together, and it was twelve o'clock before he brought her back to Horace Street. No doubt she begged him to

remain with her awhileperhaps against his will. Awful as the shock of what followed was to the girl it must

The brother and sister sat alone for some time; then Ceneri and his two friends made their appearance

Anthony seemed displeased at the encounter, but made the best of matters and greeted his uncle civilly.

It was no part of Ceneri's plan that any act of violence or restraint should take place in the presence of

Pauline. Whatever was to be done should be done when Anthony was about to leave the house. Then he

might be seized and conveyed to the cellar: his cries if needful being stifled. Pauline was to know nothing

about it. Arrangements had been made for her to go on the morrow to a friend of her uncle's, with whom she

was to stay, ignorant of the purport of the business which suddenly called the plotters away.

"Pauline," said Ceneri, "I think you had better go to bed. Anthony and I have some affairs to speak about."

"I will wait until Anthony leaves," she said, "but if you want to talk I will go into the other room."

So saying, she passed through the folding doors and went to the piano, where she sat playing and singing for

"It is too late to talk about business tonight," said Anthony, as his sister left the room.

Anthony, having no wish to let his uncle escape without an explanation, reseated himself.

"They are scarcely strangers. They are friends of mine, who will vouch for the truth of what I am going to

"I will not have my affairs talked about before a man like that," said Anthony, with a motion of contempt

The two men were conversing in a low tone. Pauline was not far off, and neither wished to alarm her by high

words or by the appearance of a pending quarrel; but Macari heard the remark and saw the gesture. His eyes

"It may be, in a few days," he said, "you will be willing enough to give me freely the gift you refused a short

Ceneri noticed that the speaker's right hand was inside the breast of his coat, but this being a favorite attitude

Anthony did not condescend to reply. He turned from the man with a look of utter contempta look which,

"Before we talk about anything else," he said to his uncle, "I shall insist that from now Pauline is placed

under my care. Neither she nor her fortune shall become the prey of a lowbred, beggarly Italian adventurer

These were the last words the poor boy ever spoke. Macari took one step toward himhe made no

exclamation of ragehissed out no oath which might warn his victim. Grasped in his right hand, the long

bright steel leaped from its lurking place, and as Anthony March looked up, and then threw himself back in

his chair to avoid him, the blow was struck downward with all the force of that strong armthe point of the

dagger entering just below the collarbone and absolutely transfixing the heart. Anthony March was silenced

Then, even as he fell, Pauline's song stopped, and her cry of horror rang through the room. From her seat at

the piano she could see what had happened. Is it any wonder that the sight bereft her of her senses?

Macari was standing over his victim. Ceneri was stupefied at the crime which in a moment had obviated any

necessity for carrying out his wild plot. The only one who seemed in possession of his wits was Petr�ff. It

was imperative that Pauline should be silenced. Her cries would alarm the neighbors. He rushed forward, and

throwing a large woollen sofacover over her head, placed her on the couch, where he held her by force.

At that moment I made my frantic entranceblind and helpless, but, for all they knew, a messenger of

Even the ruthless Macari was staggered at my appearance. It was Ceneri who, following the instincts of

selfpreservation, drew a pistol and cocked it. It was he who understood the meaning of my passionate

Macari, as soon as he recovered from his surprise, insisted that I should share Anthony March's fate. His

dagger was once more raised to take human life, whilst Petr�ff, who had been forced by the new turn of

affairs to leave Pauline, pinned me down where I had fallen. Ceneri struck the steel aside and saved me. He

examined my eyes and vouched for the truth of my statement. There was no time for recriminations or

Petr�ff supported him, and Macari at last sullenly yielded, with the stipulation that I should be disposed of in

the manner already related. Had the means been at hand I should have been drugged at once; as it was, the old

servant, who as yet knew nothing of the tragedy which had taken place, was roused up and sent out in search

of the needful draught. The accomplices dared not let me leave their sight, so I was compelled to sit and listen

Why did Ceneri not denounce the murder? Why was he, at least, an accessory after the crime? I can only

believe that he was a worse man than he confessed himself to be, or that he trembled at his share in the

transaction. After all, he had been planning a crime almost as black, and when the truth as to the trust money

was known, no jury in the world would have acquitted him. Perhaps both he and Petr�ff held human life

lightly; their hands were certainly not clean from political assassinations. Feeling that a trial must go hard

with them, they threw their lot in with Macari's, and at once set about baffling inquiry and hiding all traces of

the crime. From that moment there was little to choose between the degrees in criminality of the three men.

Now that they were all sailing in the same boat, they had little doubt of success. Teresa was perforce taken

into their confidence. This was no matter, as, devoted to Ceneri, she would have aided in a dozen murders

had her master decreed them. First of all, they must get rid of me. Petr�fffor Ceneri would not trust me in

Macari's handswent out and found a belated cab. For a handsome consideration the driver consented to

lend it to him for an hour and a half. It was still night, so there was no difficulty in carrying my senseless

Petr�ff drove off, and having deposited me in a byway a long distance from the house, returned the cab to

And now for Pauline. Her moans had gradually died away, and she lay in a deathlike stupor. The great

danger to the accomplices would be from her. Until she recovered nothing could be done save to carry her to

her room and place her under Teresa's charge. When she awoke they must decide what course to pursue.

But the pressing thing was, how to make away with the dead body of the murdered man. All sorts of plans

were discussed, until one at last was adopted, the very audacity of which no doubt made it a success. They

Early in the morning a letter was dispatched to Anthony's lodging, saying that Mr. March had been taken

seriously ill the night before, and was at his uncle's. This served to stop any inquiry from that quarter. In the

meantime the poor young fellow had been laid out as decently as possible, and with every thing that could be

done to suggest a natural death. A doctor's certificate of death was then forged. Ceneri did not tell me how the

form was obtained. The man he got it from knew nothing of its object. An undertaker then was ordered to

send a coffin and deal case for the same the next night. The body, in Ceneri's presence, was simply placed

inside it, with none of the usual paraphernalia, the reason given for such apparent indecency being that it was

only a temporary arrangement, as it was to be taken abroad for interment. The undertaker marvelled, but

being well paid, held his peace. Then, by the aid of the forged certificate, the proper formalities were

complied with, and in two days' time the three men, in the garb of mourners, were travelling to Italy with the

body of their victim. There was nothing to stop them, nothing suspicious in their manner or in the

circumstances of the case. They actually took the coffin to the town where Anthony's mother died, and they

buried the son by the side of the mother, with his name and the date of his death recorded on the stone. Then

They were safe even from her. When she at last awoke from her stupor, even Teresa could see that something

had gone wrong. She said nothing about the scene she had witnessed; she asked no questions. Her past had

vanished. According to instructions given her, Teresa, as soon as possible, took her to join Ceneri in Italy,

and he saw that Macari's crime had deprived the brother of life and the sister of reason.

No search or inquiry was made for Anthony March. Carrying out his bold plan to the very letter, Ceneri

instructed an agent to take possession of his few personal effects at his lodgings, and to inform the people

there that he had died at his house and been taken to Italy to be buried with his mother. A few friends for a

while regretted a companion, and there was an end of the affair. Nothing having been heard of the blind man,

Months and months passed by, whilst Pauline remained in the same state. Teresa took charge of her, and

lived with her in Turin until that time when I saw them at San Giovanni. Ceneri, who had no fixed home, saw

little of the girl. His presence did not awaken any painful recollections in her mind, but to him the sight of his

niece was unbearable. It recalled what he was eager to forget. She never seemed happy in Italy; in her

uncertain way she was pining for England Anxious to get her out of his sight, he had consented that Teresa

should take her to Londonhad, in fact, come to Turin that particular day to arrange as to their departure.

Macari, who, even with a brother's blood between them, considered her in some way his property,

accompanied him. He had been continually urging Ceneri to let him marry her, even as she was now. He had

threatened to carry her off by force. He had sworn she should be his. She remembered nothingwhy should

Bad as Ceneri was, he had recoiled from this. He would even, had it been possible, have broken off all

intercourse with Macari; but the men were too deep in each other's secrets to be divided on account of a

crime, however atrocious; so he sent Pauline to England. There she was safe from Macari. Then came my

proposal, the acceptance of which would take her, at my expense, entirely off his hands and out of his

Hence our strange marriage, which even now he justified by saying that should the girl grow attached to any

one, should any feeling corresponding to affection be awakened in her clouded mindthat mind would

This, not in his own words, was Ceneri's tale. I now knew all I wanted to know. Perhaps he had painted

himself in better colors than he deserved; but he had given me the whole dark history freely and unreservedly,

and in spite of the loathing and abhorrence with which he now inspired me, I felt that he had told me the

It was time to bring our interview to an end. It had lasted so long that the civil captain had more than once

peeped in with a significant look on his face, as much as to say there was such a thing as overstepping the

limits of even such an authority as I held. I had no desire to protract the conversation with the convict. The

object of my long journey had been attained. I had learned all that I could learn. I knew Pauline's history. The

crime had been fully confessed. The man with me had no claim upon my consideration. Even had I felt

But I did linger for a while. The thought that my rising and giving the signal that my business was finished,

would immediately consign the prisoner to that loathsome den from which he had emerged, was

inexpressively painful to me. Every moment I could keep him with me would be precious to him. Never

He had ceased speaking He sat with his head bent forward; his eyes resting on the ground. A tattered,

haggard, hopeless wretch; so broken down that one dare not reproach him. I watched him in silence

"None," I said. "It seems to me there is little to choose between you and your associates."

"You will tell her how you have found me; she may be happier in knowing that Anthony's death has

"I must go back now," he said, with a kind of shiver and dragging his weary limbs slowly toward the door.

"Stop a moment," l said. "Tell me if there is anything I can do to make your life any easier?"

He smiled faintly. "You may give me moneya little. I may be able to keep it and buy a few prisoners'

"You might leave some with the captain. It may be, if he is kindhearted and honest, a portion of it may reach

I promised to do so, and knew that, whether it reached him or not, I should feel easier for having made the

"But what will your future be? Where are they taking you, and what will be your life?"

"They are taking us right to the end of Siberiato Nertchinsk. There I shall be drafted off with others to

Ceneri smiled. "After what I have passed through it is Paradise opening before me. When a man offends

against the Russian law his one hope is that he may be sent at once to Siberia. That means going from hell to

"You would if you had lain like me for months, untried and uncondemned. If you had been placed in a cell

without light, without air, without room to move. If you heard those next to you screaming in their

madnessmadness brought on by solitary confinement and cruel treatment. If every morning as you woke

you had said, 'I too shall be an idiot before nightfall.' If you had been frozen, beaten, starved, in order to make

you betray your friends. If you had been reduced to such a state that your death warrant would be welcome

then, Mr. Vaughan, you would look forward to and long for the gentle rigors of Siberia. I swear to you sir,"

he continued, with more fire and animation than he had yet displayed, "that if the civilized nations of Europe

knew onetenth part of the horrors and deeds in a Russian prison, they would say, 'guilty or innocent, no

human beings shall be tormented like this,' and for the sake of common humanity would sweep the whole

"Where could I escape to? Look at the map and see where Nertchinsk is. If I escaped I could only wander

about the mountains until I died or until some of the savages around killed me. No, Mr. Vaughan, escapes

"I hope not. I once gathered together much information respecting Siberian convicts, and, to tell you the truth,

was rather disgusted to find how incorrect the common opinion is. Now I can only hope my researches

"It is bad enough, as you are always at the mercy of a petty tyrant. There is no doubt but for a year or two I

must slave in the mines. If I survive the toil, which is very unlikely, I may, by finding favor in the ruler's

eyes, be released from further work of that description. I may even be allowed to reside at some town and

earn my living. I have great hopes that my professional skill may be of use to me. Doctors are scarce in

Little as he deserved it, my heart echoed his wish; but as I looked at him I felt sure there was small chance of

The door opened and the captain once more looked in. He was growing quite impatient. I had no reason for

wishing to prolong the conversation, so I told him I should have finished in a moment. He nodded his head

"There is nothing. Stay! one thing. Macari, that villainsooner or later he will get his deserts. I have

sufferedso will he. When that time comes will you try to send me word? It may be difficult to do so, and I

have no right to ask the favor. But you have interest, and might get intelligence sent me. If I am not dead by

Without waiting for my reply he walked hastily to the door, and with the sentry at his side was marched off to

As the cumbrous lock was being turned he paused. "Farewell, Mr. Vaughan," he said. "If I have wronged you

He hesitated a moment and then held out his hand. The door was now open. I could see the throng of

repulsive, villainous facesthe faces of his fellowprisoners. I could hear the jabber of curiosity and

wonder. I could smell the foul odors coming from that reeking den crowded with filthy humanity. And in

such a place as this, with such associates, a man of education, culture and refined tastes, was doomed to

Yet it was well merited. As he stood on the threshold with outstretched hand I felt this. To all intents and

purposes the man was a murderer. Much moved as I was by his fate I could not bring myself to grasp his

He saw that I did not respond to his action. A flush of shame passed over his face; he bowed his head and

turned away. The soldier took him roughly by the arm and thrust him through the doorway. Then he turned,

and his eyes met mine with an expression that haunted me for days. He was gazing thus when the heavy door

I turned away sick at heart, perhaps regretting I had added anything to his shame and punishment. I sought

my obliging friend, the captain, and received his word of honor that any money I left with him should be

expended for the convict's benefit. I placed a considerable sum in his hands, and can only hope that a part of

Then I found my interpreter, and ordered horses to be at once procured and the tarantass brought out. I would

In half an hour all was ready. Ivan and I stepped into the carriage; the yemschik flourished his whip; the

horses sprang forward; the bells jingled merrily, and away we went in the darkness, commencing the return

journey which counted by thousands of miles. It was only now, when burning to find myself home again, that

A turn of the road soon hid the gloomy ostrog from my sight, but it was not until we were miles and miles

away that my spirits recovered anything like their former tone, and it was days before I ceased to think, at

nearly every moment, of that terrible place in which I had found Ceneri, and to which I saw him again

As this is not a book of travel I will not recapitulate the journey. The weather nearly all the time was

favorable, the roads were in good condition. My impatience forced me to travel almost day and night. I

spared no expense; my extraordinary passport procured me horses when other travellers were compelled to

waitmy large gratuities made those horses use their best speed. In thirtyfive days we drove up to the

Hotel Russia at Nijnei Novgorod, with the tarantass in such a dilapidated condition that in all probability

another stage would have finished its work in this world. I bestowed it, a free gift, upon my guide, who, I

From Nijnei by rail to Moscow; from Moscow to St. Petersburg. I only tarried in the capital long enough to

pay my respects to Lord , and once more thank him for his assistance: then, having collected what luggage I

On my road from Irkutsk I found letters from Priscilla at Tomsk, at Tobolsk, and at Perm, also more recently

written ones at St. Petersburg. All up to the date of the last was going on well. Priscilla had taken her charge

to Devonshire. Having been reared in that country the old woman had a great belief in its virtues. They were

at a quiet, but beautiful little wateringplace on the north coast, and Priscilla averred that Pauline "was

No wonder after hearing this good news I was eager to reach homelonging, not only to see my wife again,

but to see her, as I had never yet seen her, with her mind restored. Would she remember me? How should we

meet? Would she at last learn to love me? Were my troubles at an end or only begun? These were the

Home at last! How delightful to stand among one's own countrymen, and hear nothing but good intelligible

English around one. I am bronzed with exposure to the wind and sun, my beard has grown to a great length;

one or two acquaintances I met when I reached London scarcely knew me. In my present trim I could not

By the aid of a razor and fresh apparel I was soon converted to a fairly good semblance of my former self and

then, without having apprised even Priscilla of my return, I started for the West, to see what fate had in store

What is a run across England after a man has made such a journey as my recent one? Yet, that pitiful hundred

and fifty miles seemed to me as long as a thousand did a month ago. The last few miles I had to go by coach,

and, although four splendid horses spun us along, each individual mile seemed as long as a Siberian stage.

But the journey was at last ended, and, leaving my luggage in the coach office, I sallied forth, with a beating

I went to the address given in Priscilla's letter. The house was a quiet little building, nestling on a wooded

bank, with a sloping garden in front, full of late summer flowers. Honeysuckles twined round the porch, great

sunflowers stared fiercely from the beds, and carnations sweetened the air. As I waited for the door to be

I inquired for Mrs. Drew. She was not at homehad gone out with the young lady some time ago, and would

It was early in autumn, but the leaf showed no signs of fading. Everything was green, fresh and beautiful. The

sky was cloudless, and a soft balmy air fanned my cheek. I paused and looked around me before I decided in

which direction to go. Far below my feet lay the little fishing village; its houses clustered round the mouth of

the noisy, brawling stream which ran down the valley, and leaped joyously into the sea. On either hand were

great tors, and behind them inland hills covered with woods, and in front of me stretching away and away

was the calm green sea. The scene was fair enough, but I turned away from it. I wanted Pauline.

It seemed to me that on such a day as this the shady woods and the running stream must offer irresistible

attractions; so I found my way down the steep hill, and began walking up the riverside, while the merry

stream danced past me, throwing its rich brown peatstained waters into a thousand little cascades as it shot

I followed its course for about a milenow clambering over mossgrown rocks, now wading through ferns,

now forcing my way through pliant hazel boughsthen in an open space on the opposite bank I saw a girl

sitting sketching. Her back was toward me, but I knew every turn of that graceful figure well enough to feel

If I had needed extra assurance I had but to look at her companion, who sat near her and appeared to be

dozing over a book. I should have recognized that shawl of Priscilla's a mile awayits like has never been

Hard as I found it to do so, I resolved not to make my presence known to them. Before I met Pauline I wanted

to talk to Priscilla and be guided by her report as to my future method of proceeding. But in spite of my

determination I yielded to the temptation of drawing nearerfrom where I stood I could not see her

faceso I crept on inch by inch till I was nearly opposite the sketcher, and, half hidden by the undergrowth,

There was the hue of health upon her cheekthere was the appearance of health in every movement, and as

she turned and spoke a few words to her companion there was that in her look and in her smile which made

my heart bound. The wife I returned to was a different being from the girl I had married.

She turned and looked across the stream. Carried away by my joy I had entirely emerged from my lurking

She must in some way have remembered me. Were it but as in a dream my face must have seemed familiar to

her. She dropped her pencil and sketchbook and sprang to her feet before Priscilla's exclamation of surprise

and delight was heard. She stood looking at me as though she expected I would speak or come to her, while

Had I wished to retreat, it was now too late. I found a crossingplace and in a minute or two was on the

Pauline had not moved, but Priscilla ran to meet me and almost shook my hands off.

"Does she rememberdoes she know me?" I whispered, as I disengaged myself and walked toward my wife.

Breathing a prayer that her prophecy might come true, I reached Pauline's side and held out my hand. She

took it without hesitation, and raised her dark eyes to mine. How did I refrain from clasping her to my heart!

She dropped her eyes "Priscilla has talked of you. She tells me you are a friend and that until you came I must

She sighed. "I have seen you in dreamsstrange dreams." As she spoke a bright blush spread over her cheek.

"I cannot. I have been ill, very ill, for a long time. I have forgotten mucheverything that happened."

Had she an inkling of the truth? Were the dreams she spoke of but the struggles of growing memory? Did that

bright ring which was still on her finger suggest to her what had happened? Yes, I would wait and hope.

We walked back together, with Priscilla following at a proper distance. Pauline seemed to accept my society

as though it was a perfectly natural thing to do so. When the path grew steep or rugged she held out her hand

for mine, as though its support was her right. Yet for a long time she said nothing.

"Yes; when I saw your face you were always travelling. Did you find what you sought?" she asked eagerly.

She spoke, if excitedly, quite sensibly, but I wondered she was not craving for justice to be meted out to the

"Vengeance! what good can vengeance do? It will not bring him back to life. It happened long ago. When, I

"He has, in a great measure. One died in prison raving mad; another is in chains, working like a slave; the

She shuddered at the name and said no more. Just before we reached the house in which they lodged, she

I promised, only too glad to find how instinctively she turned to me to prefer the request. She must remember

"I will go there," she said, "and see the place, and then we will speak of the past no more."

A ghost of the old puzzled look came into her eyes; she passed her disengaged hand over her forehead, and

My tale is drawing to an end, although I could, for my own pleasure, write chapter after chapter, detailing

every occurrence of the next monthdescribing every look, repeating every word that passed between

Pauline and myself, but if I wrote them they would be sacred from all persons save twomy wife and

If my situation was an anomalous one it had at least a certain charm. It was a new wooing, none the less

entertaining and sweet because its object happened to be already my wife in name. It was like a landowner

walking over his estate and in every direction finding unsuspected beauties and unknown mines of wealth.

Her smile was a joy greater than I had ever pictured, her laugh a revelation. To gaze into those bright

unclouded eyes and strive to learn their secrets was a reward that repaid me for all that I suffered. To find that

her intellect, now restored, was fit to be matched with any one'sto know that when the time came I should

be given not only a wife, beautiful, in my eyes, above all women, but a companion and a sympathetic

Yet it was a rapture not unmodified by doubts and fears. It may be that my character lacked that very useful

trait called by some selfconfidence and by others conceit. The more I saw to love and admire in Pauline, the

more I asked myself how I could dare to expect that so peerless a creature would condescend to accept the

love and the life I wished to offer her. Who was I to win her? I was rich, it is true, but I felt sure that riches

would not buy her affectionbesides, as I had not told her that her own wealth was swept away, she fancied

her fortune was as large as my own. She was young, beautiful, and, so far as she knew, free and amply

provided for. No, I had nothing to offer her which was worthy of her acceptance.

I quite dreaded to look forward to the moment which must sooner or later comethe moment when I must,

ignoring the past, ask her once more to be my wife On her answer would hang the whole of my future life.

No wonder I decided to postpone the ordeal until I felt quite certain that the result of it would be favorable to

me. No wonder that when with Pauline, and realizing the value of the prize I aimed at, I grew quite humble

and depreciatory of what merits I may have possessed. No wonder that at times I wished that I were gifted

with that pleasing assurance which sits so well on many men, and, time and opportunity being given, seems

I had taken up my quarters near to her, and from morn to night we were in each other's company. We

wandered through the narrow Devonshire lanes, with the luxuriant banks of ferns on either side. We climbed

the rugged tors. We fished with more or less success the rapid streams. We drove together. We read and

sketchedbut as yet we had not talked of love; though all the while my weddingring was on her finger.

It required all my authority to prevent Priscilla telling Pauline the truth. On this point I was firm. Unless the

past came back of its own accord, I would hear her say she loved me before my lips revealed it to her.

Perhaps it was the idea which at times came to me, that Pauline remembered more than she would own to,

It was curious the way in which she at once fell into friendly, unconstrained intercourse with me. We might

have known each other from childhood, so perfectly natural and unembarrassed was her manner when we

were together. She made no demur when I begged her to call me by my Christian name, nor did she object to

my making use of her own. Had she done so I cannot think in what form I should have addressed her.

Although I had instructed Priscilla to call her Miss March, the old woman stoutly objected to this, and

The days slipped bythe happiest days my life had as yet known. Morn, noon, and eve we were together;

and I fear were objects of great curiosity to our neighbors, who no doubt wondered what relation existed

I soon found that Pauline's natural disposition was gay and bright. It was too soon yet to expect it to reassert

itself, yet I was not without hopes that before long that look, telling of sad memories, which so often crossed

her face, would fade away forever. Now and again a pleased smile lit up her face, and merry words slipped

from her lips. Although, when reason first returned to her, it seemed as if her brother's death had occurred but

the day before, I felt sure that, after a while, she understood that years had passed since the fatal night. These

years were to her wrapped in a mist; they seemed as dreams. She was trying to recall them, beginning at the

By common consent we avoided the future, but of the past, or all the past in which I was not concerned, we

spoke freely. All the events of her early years she now remembered perfectly; she could account for every

thing up to the time when her brother was struck downafter that came mistiness; from which she emerged

Several days passed before Pauline questioned me as to the part I had played in her clouded life. One evening

we stood on the top of a thickly wooded hill, from which we could just catch a glimpse of the sea, now

reddened by a glorious sunset. We had been silent for some time, and who can say that our thoughts were not

more in unison than any words we could have spoken while our strange and uncertain relations continued. I

looked at the western sky until the glowing tints began to fade, then turning to my companion I found her

"Tell me," she said, "tell me what I shall find when that lost time comes back to me?"

Her fingers, as she spoke, were playing with her wedding ring. She still wore it, and the diamond keeper I had

She sighed and turned her eyes to the ground. Presently she raised them to mine.

"Tell me," she said, "how and when did you come into my lifewhy did I dream of you?"

"Your uncle gave you into my charge. I promised to watch over you during his absence."

"And he will never return. He is punished for his crimefor standing by when the poor boy was murdered."

"Pauline," I said, wishing to change the current of her thoughts, "tell me how you saw me in dreams what you

She shuddered. "I dreamed that you were standing by mein the very roomthat you saw the deed. Yet I

"I saw your face many timesit was always travelling, travelling through clouds. I saw your lips move and

you seemed to say, 'I am going to learn the truthso I waited patiently till you returned."

It was growing dusk. I was uncertain whether it was the deepening shade from the trees which made her

"I cannot tell! I don't know! Don't ask me!" she said in a troubled voice. Then she turned.

I followed her. It was so completely the rule for me to spend the evening with her that I did not even wait for

an invitation. It was our custom to play and sing together for an hour or two. Pauline's first expressed desire

after her recovery had been for a piano. Believing herself to be an heiress she had felt no scruple in asking for

all she wanted, and my instructions to Priscilla being that no money was to be spared in ministering to her

All her skill had returned to her. Her voice had come back even stronger and more sweet than of old. Again

and again she held me entranced as she had held me once before, when I little expected the fearful ending to

I was surprised, therefore, when this evening she turned on the doorstep and said, "Not tonight. Leave me,

I urged no objection. I took her hand and bade her farewell until the morrow. I would go and wander by

"Gilbert," she said, speaking in Italian; for Priscilla was now standing at the open door"shall I pray for the

past to return or that I should never remember it? Which will be the best for meand for you?"

Without waiting to hear my reply, she glided past Priscilla, who stood waiting for me to follow her.

Priscilla came out to the doorstep and closed the door behind her. There was something in her manner which

told me she meant on this particular occasion to resume what she could of that authority she had been

delegated to exercise over me during my tender yearsan authority I did not dare to dispute until long after I

had been invested with jackets and trowsers. I have no doubt but she would have liked to seize me by the

collar and given me a sound shaking. As it was she was obliged to content herself with throwing a world of

"She may easily feel ill, poor young lady, when her husband lives at one house and she atanother, and

here's every roundabout trying to find what relation you two are to each otherasking me all sorts of

"Well, I am going to, Master Gilbert. If you won't tell the poor young lady, I shall. I'll tell her how you

brought her home and sent for me to take care of herhow you tended her and waited on her all day

longhow you shut yourself up for her sake, never seeing an old friend's face. Oh, yes, Master Gilbert, I'll

tell her all; and I'll tell her how you went into her room and kissed her ere you started on that fool's journey,

"I've heeded too many commands of yours, Master Gilbert, to mind breaking one for your sake. I'll do it, and

Feeling that the explanation, if made by Priscilla, would not only sweep away a great deal of romance, but

also might precipitate matters and make them far more difficult to adjust to my own satisfaction, I was bound

to prevent her carrying out her threat. Knowing from old experience that although the good soul could not be

driven, she could be led, I was obliged to resort to cajolery. So I said, as one asking a boon

"You won't if I entreat and beg you not to, my old friend. You love me to much to do any thing against my

Priscilla was not proof against this appeal, but she urged me to proclaim the true state of affairs as soon as

"And don't be too sure, Master Gilbert," she concluded, "as to what she remembers or doesn't. Sometimes I

Then she left me, and I went wandering about, thinking as to what meaning to attach to Pauline's parting

"Which will be the best for meand for you?"to forget or to recall? How much did she forgethow

much did she recall? Had those rings on her hand not shown her that she was a wife? Could she help

suspecting whose wife she was? Even if she remembered nothing about our strange, hurried marriage,

nothing about our subsequent life together, she found herself after that interval of oblivion, as it were, under

my charge; found that I knew all the tragic circumstances of her brother's end, that I had now returned from a

journey of thousands of miles, undertaken to learn the fatal particulars. Although she might not be able to

account for it, she must by this time know the truth. Keeping the ring on her finger showed that she did not

dispute the fact that, somehow, she was wedded. Who could be her husband save me?

Yes, by the evidence the situation offered, I determined that she had arrived at the right conclusion; and the

hour was at hand when I should learn if the knowledge would bring her joy or sorrow.

Tomorrow I would tell her all. I would tell her how strangely our lives became linked. I would plead for her

love more passionately than ever man yet pleaded. I would prove to her how innocently I had fallen into

Ceneri's scheme, how free from blame I was in wedding her while her mental state was such that she was

unable to refuse consent. All this she should learn, and then I would hear my doom from her lips.

I would urge no plea based upon my legal right to my wife. So far as I could make her she should be free.

Nothing should bind her to me except love If she had none to give me, I would tear myself from her, and at

her wish see if steps could not be taken to annul the marriagebut whether she elected to remain my wife in

name, to become my wife in reality, or to sever every tie, her future life, with or without her knowledge,

Having settled this I should have retired to rest, but I was in no mood for sleep. Again and again I recalled her

last words and commenced one of those weighings of hopes and fears which always means selftorture.

Why, if Pauline had guessed the truth, had she not asked me about it? How could she spend hour after hour

with me, knowing she was my wife yet not knowing how she became so? Would her words admit of the

interpretation that she dreaded what she had to learn? Did she wish for freedom and continual forgetfulness?

Many a man on the eve of learning whether his love is to be accepted or rejected has been racked as I was

that night, but surely no lover save myself ever lived, who was to receive the momentous answer from the

The hour was late when I returned from my solitary walk. I passed Pauline's window and standing gazing up

at it I wondered if she, too were lying awake and thinking and deciding about our future lives. Ah well,

The night being still and warm her window was open at the top. Before I turned away a fancy seized me I

picked a rose from a bush in the garden and managed to toss it through the open sash. She might find it in the

The blind shivered as the rosebud struck it: then, fearing discovery, I turned and fled.

The morning broke fair. I rose with hope in my heart and scouted the fears of the night. At the earliest

moment I could hope to find her I started in search of Pauline. She had just gone out. I ascertained in which

I found her walking slowly, with her head bent, She greeted me with her usual quiet sweetness, and we

walked on side by side. I looked in vain for my rose; and was fain to comfort myself by thinking it must have

And there was worse in store for me. Her hands, ungloved and with the fingers interlaced, were carried in

front of her. I was walking on her left side, and I saw that the hand nearest me was denuded of its rings. The

golden circlet which had shone until now like a beacon of hope, had disappeared. My heart sank. The

meaning was only too clear: when coupled with her words of last night, who could fail to understand it?

Although she knew herself to be my wife she wished to throw the yoke aside. Pauline loved me notthe

truth which was gradually creeping from the misty past would bring her sorrownow that she remembered,

she wished to forget. The rings were cast aside to show me, if possible, without words, that she was not to be

How could I speak now? The answer had been given before the question had been put.

She saw me looking at that little white hand of hers, but simply dropped her lashes and said nothing. No

doubt she wished me to spare her the pain of an explanation. If I could nerve myself to it, perhaps the best

Moody and despondent as I felt at the discovery just made, it was not long before I found a great change in

Pauline's manner. She was not the same. Something had come between us, something which entirely

dispelled the old friendly intercourse; changing it into little more than conventional politeness. Shyness and

restraint now made themselves manifest in every word and actionperhaps, in mine also. We spent the day

together as usual, but the companionship must have been irksome to both, so greatly was its footing changed

for the worse. That night I went to bed wretched. The prize I had striven for seemed to be snatched away just

So several days passed. Pauline made no sign, or certainly none I could construe favorably. I could bear this

state of things no longer. Priscilla, whose sharp eyes saw that something was amiss, pestered me beyond

endurance; and spoke her mind so roundly that I began to suspect she had already executed her threat of

telling Pauline everything; and I felt inclined to attribute my failure to the old woman's officiousness in

making a premature revelation. All might have gone well had I been given another week or a fortnight to win

my wife's heart. I began to believe that she was growing unhappy; that my presence troubled her. Notthat

she evinced any wish to avoid me; indeed, she came so surely at my beck and call as to suggest a shadow of

the obedience she had always given during those days upon which I now dreaded to dwell. But I felt she

I knew that my only way was to carry out my determination at once. Having made the resolve I would act

upon it next day. I packed up my things in readiness. I arranged by which coach to go. I should have three

hours in the morning to give Priscilla my final instructions and to bid my wife adieu forever.

I could not go without explaining some things to her. I need not pain her by alluding to our relationship, but I

must inform her that she was not the heiress she believed. I must tell her she had plenty to live upon without

saying that I, her husband, would supply it. When this was arranged, farewell forever!

As soon as I had finished my pretence at a breakfast, I walked across to the house where Pauline lodged. As

yet she knew nothing of my purpose. I held her hand rather longer than usual, and by a desperate effort forced

She answered not a word, but I felt her hand tremble in my own. Her eyes I could not see.

"Yes, I have loitered here long enough," I continued, attempting to speak easily, "a great many things call me

Pauline was not looking in the best of health this morning Her cheek was paler than it had been since my

arrival. She looked languid and depressed. Doubtless my presence had worried her. Poor girl, she would soon

Seeing that I paused for her to speak she found her voice, but even that seemed to have lost some of ita

"By the midday coach. I have still some hours left. As it is the last time, shall we walk to the Clearing

"If you have no objection. Besides, I want to speak to you about yourselfabout business matters," I added,

I waited. Presently Priscilla appeared. She was looking daggers at meundeserved, at least from her. Her

voice was harsh and raspy, bringing back to my mind a familiar sound of early childhood, when I had

"Miss Pauline begs you will walk on,and not wait for her. She will join you at the Clearing presently."

I took my hat and prepared to do as commanded. Priscilla had said nothing which showed she knew of my

approaching departure, but as I was passing out of the house she said, in a tone of withering scorn.

Such an observation, even from an old servant, could not be passed by. I turned to remonstrate. Priscilla

I walked awaythe thing in the face of my other troubles was not worth a thought. Of course I could not

expect Priscilla to enter into my feelings and appreciate the delicacy of my position. Besides, I must see her

The Clearing, as we called it, was a place on the hill side, not far away. We had stumbled upon it, almost by

accident, during our walks. A seldomtrodden path through the wood led to a spot from which the trees and

undergrowth had been cleared. From it there was a delightful view of the opposite hills and the stream

winding through the valley. It was a favorite resort of mine. Here I had sat for hours talking to Pauline and

here in my dreams I had poured forth the words of love I longed to speakand here I was to say goodby

My frame of mind was a sad one when I reached the Clearing. I threw myself down on the sloping ground

and turned my eyes up the path by which she must come. A fallen trunk at my back formed a rest for my

headthe trees around were rustling in the soft breezethe monotonous rush of the stream below was

soothing and lullinga few white clouds sailed slowly across the sky. It was a drowsy, dreamy, beautiful

morning. I had scarcely slept for the last t~o or three nights. Pauline lingered. Is it any wonder that my eyes

closed and for a while all sorrow and disappointment were chased away by the sleep I so sorely needed?

Was it sleep? Yes, because one must sleep in order to dream. Ah! if that dream were reality, life would be

worth having. I dreamed that my wife was beside me, that she took my hand and pressed her lips to it

passionately, that her cheek was almost touching mine, that I could feel her soft, sweet breath. So real did it

seem that I turned on my hard rustic pillow toward the dream, and then of course it vanished.

I opened my eyes. In front of me stood Pauline. Those grand dark eyes of hers no longer veiled by the lashes,

but open and looking into mine. I saw them but for a second, but that was long enough for the look I had

surprised to send the blood throbbing through my veinsto make me spring to my feetto embolden me to

take her suddenly and swiftly in my armsto cover her sweet face with kisses, ejaculating the only words

For no man yet has seen in a woman's eyes the look I saw in Pauline's unless that woman loves him above all

No words can describe the rapture of that momentthe revulsion of my feelings. She was mine, my own

forever. I knew it; I could feel it every time my lips touched hers. The bright blush which spread from her

cheek to her neck proclaimed ither suffering without resistance my passionate caresses confirmed itbut

"Do I love you! love you!" she said, and hid her blushing face on my shoulder. The words, the action, was

For a moment she answered not. She broke from my embrace; then, opening the bosom of her dress, drew

forth a blue ribbon which hung round her neck. Upon it were threaded the two rings. They seemed to sparkle

She detached them and held them towards me. "Gilbert, my love, my husband, if you will that I shall be your

wife, if you think me worthy of it, take them and place them where they should be."

And then once more, with many a kiss, many a vow, I placed the rings upon her finger and knew that my

"Dearest," she whispered, and her voice sounded like music, "I knew it when I saw you standing on the river

bank. It came to me all at once. Till then all was dark. I saw your face and knew everything."

She hung her head. "I wanted to find out if you loved me. Why should you do so? If you did not we could

part, and I would set you free if possible. But not now, Gilbert; you will never get rid of me now."

Her thoughts had been the same as mine. No wonder I had misunderstood her. The idea of her waiting to see

"You would have saved me days of grief if I had known you cared for me. Why did you take off the rings,

"Day after day passed and you said nothing. Then I took them off. They have been next my heart ever since,

I kissed the hand on which they shone. "Then all is clear to you now, my own wife?"

"Not quite all, but enough. The truth, the love, the devotionall this, my husband, I can rememberall this

Our wooing may close with these words let all the rest be sacred. The trees around alone know what passed

between us, as their kindly shade fell on us where we sat and interchanged our words of love whilst hour after

hour of our second and real wedding day slipped by. At last we rose, but lingered yet awhile, as though loth

to leave the spot where happiness had come to us. We looked round once more and bid farewell to hill and

valley and stream: we gazed long in each other's eyes, our lips met again in a passionate kiss; then we went

We walked as in a dream, from which we were only recalled by the sight of houses and people.

"Pauline!" I whispered, "can you leave this place tonight? We will go to London."

She thanked me with a look and pressure of her hand. We were now at her home. She left me, passing

Priscilla, whose honest eyes were glowering at me. Priscilla had called me a fool; I must be revenged.

"Priscilla," I said gravely, "I am going by this evening's coach. I will write when I get to London."

"Oh, Master Gilbert, don'tee, don'tee go, sir! That poor young lady, Miss Pauline, what will she do? She loves

I had bargained for reproaches, not sentiment of this kind. I laid my hand upon her shoulder.

Ten days later and Pauline stood by her brother's grave. By her own wish she visited it alone. I waited at the

gate of the cemetery until she rejoined me. Her face was very pale, her eyes showed traces of many tears, but

"Gilbert, my husband," she said, "I have wept, but now I smile. The past is the past. Let its darkness be

dispersed by the brightness of the present and the promise of the future. Let the love I bore my brother be

carried into the greater love I give my husband. Let us turn our backs on the dark shadows and begin our

Years afterward I was in Paris. The great war had been fought out to the bitter end. Traces of the conflict

between the two races had almost vanished, but those of the second and internecine contest were visible

everywhere. The Gaul himself had destroyed what the Teuton spared. The Tuileries, with sightless, empty

eyes, gazed sadly toward the Place de la Concord, where stood the statues of the fair lost provinces. The

Vend�me column lay prostrate. The fair city was charred and blackened by the incendiary torches of her own

sons; but the flames had been some time extinguished and ample revenge had been taken. A gay young

officer, a friend of mine, took me to see a military prison. We were chatting and smoking in the open air

when a small body of soldiers appeared they were escorting three men, who walked with fettered hands and

The Frenchmen shrugged his shoulders. "Where they ought all to be takento be shot, the brutes!"

Brutes or not, three men who have but a minute to live must be objects of interest, if not sympathy. I looked

closely at them as they passed us. One of them raised his head and stared me in the face. It was Macari!

I started as his eyes met mine, but I am not ashamed to say the movement was caused by no feeling of

compassion. Ceneri, in spite of myself, I pitied, and would have aided had it been possible, but this ruffian,

liar, and traitor should have gone to his doom, even if I could have saved him by lifting a finger. He had

passed long ago out of my life, but my blood still boiled when I thought of him and his crimes. I knew not

how he had lived since I last saw himknew not whom or how many he had betrayed; but if Justice had

been slow in claiming him, her sword had at last reached him and his end was close at hand.

He knew meperhaps he thought I had come there to gloat over his punishment. A look of bitter hate

crossed his face. He stopped and cursed me. The guard forced him on. He turned his head and cursed me until

one of the soldiers smote him on the mouth. The action may have been cruel, but there was little mercy

shown to Communists in those days. The guard and their prisoners turned round an angle of the building.

But we heard it. In ten minutes the rattle of rifles sounded, and I knew that the last and the guiltiest of

I remembered my promise to Ceneri. With great trouble I managed to get a message sent which I believed

would reach him. Six months afterward a letter stamped with innumerable hieroglyphical postmarks, was

delivered to me. It told me that the prisoner to whom I had written had died two years after his arrival at the

mines. So the lesser criminal had not the satisfaction of knowing the fate of the man who had betrayed him.

My tale is told. My life and Pauline's began when we turned from the cemetery and resolved to forget the

past. Since then our joys and griefs have been the same as those of thousands. As I write this in my happy

country house, blessed with wife and children, I wonder if I could ever have been that blind man who heard

those fearful sounds and who saw afterward that terrible sight. Could it have been I who rushed from one end

of Europe to the other to set at rest a doubt which I blush at even harboring? Could it have been Pauline,

whose eyes now shine with love and intelligence, who lay for months, even years, with the sweet bells of her

Yes, it must be so; for she has read every line I have written, and as we peruse and revise this last page her

"Too much, too much of me, my husband, not enough of what you did and have always done for me!"

With this, the only difference of opinion that exists between us, my tale may end.