armadale-第147章

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risen　under　the　first　feeling　of　drowsiness；　and　had　sunk　in　the
effort　to　leave　the　room。　With　the　desperate　concentration　of
strength　of　which　women　are　capable　in　emergencies；　she　lifted
him　and　dragged　him　out　into　the　corridor。　Her　brain　reeled　as
she　laid　him　down；　and　crawled　back　on　her　knees　to　the　room　to
shut　out　the　poisoned　air　from　pursuing　them　into　the　passage。
After　closing　the　door；　she　waited；　without　daring　to　look　at　him
the　while；　for　strength　enough　to　rise　and　get　to　the　window　over
the　stairs。　When　the　window　was　opened；　when　the　keen　air　of　the
early　winter　morning　blew　steadily　in；　she　ventured　back　to　him
and　raised　his　head；　and　looked　for　the　first　time　closely　at　his
face。

Was　it　death　that　spread　the　livid　pallor　over　his　forehead　and
his　cheeks；　and　the　dull　leaden　hue　on　his　eyelids　and　his　lips？

She　loosened　his　cravat　and　opened　his　waistcoat；　and　bared　his
throat　and　breast　to　the　air。　With　her　hand　on　his　heart；　with
her　bosom　supporting　his　head；　so　that　he　fronted　the　window；　she
waited　the　event。　A　time　passed：　a　time　short　enough　to　be
reckoned　by　minutes　on　the　clock；　and　yet　long　enough　to　take　her
memory　back　over　all　her　married　life　with　himlong　enough　to
mature　the　resolution　that　now　rose　in　her　mind　as　the　one　result
that　could　come　of　the　retrospect。　As　her　eyes　rested　on　him；　a
strange　composure　settled　slowly　on　her　face。　She　bore　the　look
of　a　woman　who　was　equally　resigned　to　welcome　the　chance　of　his
recovery；　or　to　accept　the　certainty　of　his　death。

Not　a　cry　or　a　tear　had　escaped　her　yet。　Not　a　cry　or　a　tear
escaped　her　when　the　interval　had　passed；　and　she　felt　the　first
faint　fluttering　of　his　heart；　and　heard　the　first　faint　catching
of　the　breath　of　his　lips。　She　silently　bent　over　him　and　kissed
his　forehead。　When　she　looked　up　again；　the　hard　despair　had
melted　from　her　face。　There　was　something　softly　radiant　in　her
eyes；　which　lit　her　whole　countenance　as　with　an　inner　light；　and
made　her　womanly　and　lovely　once　more。

She　laid　him　down；　and；　taking　off　her　shawl；　made　a　pillow　of　it
to　support　his　head。　〃It　might　have　been　hard；　love；〃　she　said；
as　she　felt　the　faint　pulsation　strengthening　at　his　heart。　〃You
have　made　it　easy　now。〃

She　rose；　and；　turning　from　him；　noticed　the　Purple　Flask　in　the
place　where　she　had　left　it　since　the　fourth　Pouring。　〃Ah；〃　she
thought；　quietly；　〃I　had　forgotten　my　best　friendI　had
forgotten　that　there　is　more　to　pour　in　yet。〃

With　a　steady　hand；　with　a　calm；　attentive　face；　she　fed　the
funnel　for　the　fifth　time。　〃Five　minutes　more；〃　she　said；　when
she　had　put　the　Flask　back；　after　a　look　at　the　clock。

She　fell　into　thoughtthought　that　only　deepened　the　grave　and
gentle　composure　of　her　face。　〃Shall　I　write　him　a　farewell
word？〃　she　asked　herself。　〃Shall　I　tell　him　the　truth　before　I
leave　him　forever？〃

Her　little　gold　pencil…case　hung　with　the　other　toys　at　her
watch…chain。　After　looking　about　her　for　a　moment；　she　knelt　over
her　husband　and　put　her　hand　into　the　breast…pocket　of　his　coat。

His　pocket…book　was　there。　Some　papers　fell　from　it　as　she
unfastened　the　clasp。　One　of　them　was　the　letter　which　had　come
to　him　from　Mr。　Brock's　death…bed。　She　turned　over　the　two　sheets
of　note…paper　on　which　the　rector　had　written　the　words　that　had
now　come　true；　and　found　the　last　page　of　the　last　sheet　a　blank。
On　that　page　she　wrote　her　farewell　words；　kneeling　at　her
husband's　side。


〃I　am　worse　than　the　worst　you　can　think　of　me。　You　have　saved
Armadale　by　changing　rooms　with　him　to…night；　and　you　have　saved
him　from　Me。　You　can　guess　now　whose　widow　I　should　have　claimed
to　be；　if　you　had　not　preserved　his　life；　and　you　will　know　what
a　wretch　you　married　when　you　married　the　woman　who　writes　these
lines。　Still；　I　had　some　innocent　moments；　and　then　I　loved　you
dearly。　Forget　me；　my　darling；　in　the　love　of　a　better　woman　than
I　am。　I　might；　perhaps；　have　been　that　better　woman　myself；　if　I
had　not　lived　a　miserable　life　before　you　met　with　me。　It　matters
little　now。　The　one　atonement　I　can　make　for　all　the　wrong　I　have
done　you　is　the　atonement　of　my　death。　It　is　not　hard　for　me　to
die；　now　I　know　you　will　live。　Even　my　wickedness　has　one
meritit　has　not　prospered。　I　have　never　been　a　happy　woman。〃


She　folded　the　letter　again；　and　put　it　into　his　hand；　to　attract
his　attention　in　that　way　when　he　came　to　himself。　As　she　gently
closed　his　fingers　on　the　paper　and　looked　up；　the　last　minute　of
the　last　interval　faced　her；　recorded　on　the　clock。

She　bent　over　him；　and　gave　him　her　farewell　kiss。

〃Live；　my　angel；　live！〃　she　murmured；　tenderly；　with　her　lips
just　touching　his。　〃All　your　life　is　before　youa　happy　life；
and　an　honored　life；　if　you　are　freed　from　_me！_〃

With　a　last；　lingering　tenderness；　she　parted　the　hair　back　from
his　forehead。　〃It　is　no　merit　to　have　loved　you；〃　she　said。　〃You
are　one　of　the　men　whom　women　all　like。〃　She　sighed　and　left　him。
It　was　her　last　weakness。　She　bent　her　head　affirmatively　to　the
clock；　as　if　it　had　been　a　living　creature　speaking　to　her；　and
fed　the　funnel　for　the　last　time；　to　the　last　drop　left　in　the
Flask。

The　waning　moon　shone　in　faintly　at　the　window。　With　her　hand　on
the　door　of　the　room；　she　turned　and　looked　at　the　light　that　was
slowly　fading　out　of　the　murky　sky。

〃Oh；　God；　forgive　me！〃　she　said。　〃Oh；　Christ；　bear　witness　that　I
have　suffered！〃

One　moment　more　she　lingered　on　the　threshold；　lingered　for　her
last　look　in　this　world　and　turned　that　look　on　_him。_

〃Good…by！〃　she　said；　softly。

The　door　of　the　room　opened；　and　closed　on　her。　There　was　an
interval　of　silence。

Then　a　sound　came　dull　and　sudden；　like　the　sound　of　a　fall。

Then　there　was　silence　again。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　*　*　*　*　*

The　hands　of　the　clock；　following　their　steady　course；　reckoned
the　minutes　of　the　morning　as　one　by　one　they　lapsed　away。　It　was
the　tenth　minute　since　the　door　of　the　room　had　opened　and　closed
；　before　Midwinter　stirred　on　his　pillow；　and；　struggling　to
raise　himself；　felt　the　letter　in　his　hand。

At　the　same　moment　a　key　was　turned　in　the　staircase　door。　And
the　doctor；　looking　expectantly　toward　the　fatal　room；　saw　the
Purple　Flask　on　the　window…sill；　and　the　prostrate　man　trying　to
raise　himself　from　the　floor。


EPILOGUE。


CHAPTER　I。

NEWS　FROM　NORFOLK。

_From　Mr。　Pedgift；　Senior　（Thorpe　Ambrose）；　to　Mr。　Pedgift；
Junior　（Paris）。_

〃High　Street；　December　20th。

〃MY　DEAR　AUGUSTUSYour　letter　reached　me　yesterday。　You　seem　to
be　making　the　most　of　your　youth　（as　you　call　it）　with　a
vengeance。　Well！　enjoy　your　holiday。　I　made　the　most　of　my　youth
when　I　was　your　age；　and；　wonderful　to　relate；　I　haven't
forgotten　it　yet！

〃You　ask　me　for　a　good　budget　of　news；　and　especially　for　more
information　about　that　mysterious　business　at　the　Sanitarium。

〃Curiosity；　my　dear　boy；　is　a　quality　which　（in　our　profession
especially）　sometimes　leads　to　great　results。　I　doubt；　however；
if　you　will　find　it　leading　to　much　on　this　occasion。　All　I　know
of　the　mystery　of　the　Sanitarium；　I　know　from　Mr。　Armadale：　and
he　is　entirely　in　the　dark　on　more　than　one　point　of　importance。
I　have　already　told　you　how　they　were　entrapped　into　the　house；
and　how　they　passed　the　night　there。　To　this　I　can　now　add　that
something　did　certainly　happen　to　Mr。　Midwinter；　which　deprived
him　of　consciousness；　and　that　the　doctor；　who　appears　to　have
been　mixed　up　in　the　matter；　carried　things　with　a　high　hand；　and
insisted　on　taking　his　own　course　in　his　own　Sanitarium。　There　is
not　the　least　doubt　that　the　miserable　woman　（however　she　might
have　come　by　her　death）　was　found　deadthat　a　coroner's　inquest
inquired　into　the　circumstancesthat　the　evidence　showed　her　to
have　entered　the　house　as　a　patientand　that　the　medical
investigation　ended　in　discovering　that　she　had　died　of　apoplexy。
My　idea　is　that　Mr。　Midwinter　had　a　motive　of　his　own　for　not
coming　forward　with　the　evidence　that　he　might　have　given。　I　have
also　reason　to　suspect　that　Mr。　Armadale；　out　of　regard　for　him；
followed　his　lead；　and　that　the　verdict　at　the　inquest　（attaching
no　blame　to　anybody）　proceeded；　like　many　other　verdicts　of　the
same　kind；　from　an　entirely　superficial　investigation　of　the
circumstances。

〃The　key　to　the　whole　mystery　is　to　be　found；　I　firmly　believe；
in　that　wretched　woman's　attempt　to　personate　the　character　of
Mr。　Armadale's　widow　when　the　news　of　his　death　appeared　in　the
papers。　But　what　first　set　her　on　this；　and　by　what　inconceivable
process　of　deception　she　can　have　induced　Mr。　Midwinter　to　marry
her　（as　the　certificate　proves）　under　Mr。　Armadale's　name；　is
more　than　Mr。　Armadale　himself　knows。　The　point　was　not　touched
at　the　inquest；　for　the　simple　reason　that　the　inquest　only
concerned　itself　with　the　circumstances　attending　her　death。　Mr。
Armadale；　at　his　friend's　request；　saw　Miss　Blanchard；　and
induced　her　to　silence　old　Darch　on　the　subject　of　the　claim　that
had　been　made　relating　to　the　widow's　income。　As　the　claim　had
never　been　admitted；　even　our　stiff…necked　brother　practitioner
consented　for　once　to　do　as　he　was　asked。　The　doctor's　statement
that　his　patient　was　the　widow　of　a　gentleman　named　Armadale　was
accordingly　left　unchallenged；　and　so　the　matter　has　been　hushed
up。　She　is　buried　in　the　great　cemetery；　near　the　place　where　she
died。　Nobody　but　Mr。　Midwinter　and　Mr。　Armadale　（who　insisted　on
going　with　him）　followed　her　to　the　grave；　and　nothing　has　been
inscribed　on　the　tombstone　but　the　initial　letter　of　her
Christian　name　and　the　date　of　her　death。　So；　after　all　the　harm
she　has　done；　she　rests　at　last；　and　so　the　two　men　whom　she　has
injured　have　forgiven　her。

〃Is　there　more　to　say　on　this　subject　before　we　leave　it？　On
referring　to　your　letter；　I　find　you　have　raised　one　other　point；
which　may　be　worth　a　moment's　notice。

〃You　ask　if　there　is　reason　to　suppose　that　the　doctor　comes　out
of　the　matter　with　hands　which　are　really　as　clean　as　they　look？
My　dear　Augustus；　I　believe　the　doctor　to　have　been　at　the　bottom
of　more　of　this　mischief　than　we　shall　ever　find　out；　and　to　have
profited　by　the　self…imposed　silence　of　Mr。　Midwinter　and　Mr。
Armadale；　as　rogues　perpetually　profit　by　the　misfortunes　and
necessities　of　honest　men。　It　is　an　ascertained　fact　that　he
connived　at　the　false　statement　about　Miss　Milroy；　which
entrapped　the　two　gentlemen　into　his　house；　and　that　one
circumstance　（after　my　Old　Bailey　experience）　is　enough　for　_me。_
As　to　evidence　against　him；　there　is　not　a　jot；　and　as　to
Retribution　overtaking　him；　I　can　only　say　I　heartily　hope
Retribution　may　prove；　in　the　long　run；　to　be　the　more　cunning
customer　of　the　two。　There　is　not　much　prospect　of　it　at　present。
The　doctor's　friends　and　admirers　are；　I　understand；　about　to
present　him　with　a　Testimonial；　'expressive　of　their　sympathy
under　the　sad　occurrence　which　has　thrown　a　cloud　over　the
opening　of　his　Sanitarium；　and　of　their　undiminished　confidence
in　his　integrity　and　ability　as　a　medical　man。'　We　live；
Augustus；　in　an　age　eminently　favorable　to　the　growth　of　all
roguery　which　is　careful　enough　to　keep　up　a