the queen of hearts-第34章

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assured　him　of　my　resolution　to　remain　with　Monkton　to　the　last。

After　I　had　dispatched　my　letter；　and　had　sent　to　Gibraltar　to
secure　the　best　English　medical　advice　that　could　be　obtained；　I
felt　that　I　had　done　my　best；　and　that　nothing　remained　but　to
wait　and　hope。

Many　a　sad　and　anxious　hour　did　I　pass　by　my　poor　friend's
bedside。　Many　a　time　did　I　doubt　whether　I　had　done　right　in
giving　any　encouragement　to　his　delusion。　The　reasons　for　doing
so　which　had　suggested　themselves　to　me　after　my　first　interview
with　him　seemed；　however；　on　reflection；　to　be　valid　reasons
still。　The　only　way　of　hastening　his　return　to　England　and　to
Miss　Elmslie；　who　was　pining　for　that　return；　was　the　way　I　had
taken。　It　was　not　my　fault　that　a　disaster　which　no　man　could
foresee　had　overthrown　all　his　projects　and　all　mine。　But；　now
that　the　calamity　had　happened　and　was　irretrievable；　how；　in　the
event　of　his　physical　recovery；　was　his　moral　malady　to　be
combated？

When　I　reflected　on　the　hereditary　taint　in　his　mental
organization；　on　that　first　childish　fright　of　Stephen　Monkton
from　which　he　had　never　recovered；　on　the　perilously…secluded
life　that　he　had　led　at　the　Abbey；　and　on　his　firm　persuasion　of
the　reality　of　the　apparition　by　which　he　believed　himself　to　be
constantly　followed；　I　confess　I　despaired　of　shaking　his
superstitious　faith　in　every　word　and　line　of　the　old　family
prophecy。　If　the　series　of　striking　coincidences　which　appeared
to　attest　its　truth　had　made　a　strong　and　lasting　impression　on
_me_　（and　this　was　assuredly　the　case）；　how　could　I　wonder　that
they　had　produced　the　effect　of　absolute　conviction　on　_his_
mind；　constituted　as　it　was？　If　I　argued　with　him；　and　he
answered　me；　how　could　I　rejoin？　If　he　said；　〃The　prophecy　points
at　the　last　of　the　family：　_I_　am　the　last　of　the　family。　The
prophecy　mentions　an　empty　place　in　Wincot　vault；　there　is　such
an　empty　place　there　at　this　moment。　On　the　faith　of　the　prophecy
I　told　you　that　Stephen　Monkton's　body　was　unburied；　and　you
found　that　it　was　unburied〃if　he　said　this；　what　use　would　it
be　for　me　to　reply；　〃These　are　only　strange　coincidences　after
all？〃

The　more　I　thought　of　the　task　that　lay　before　me；　if　he
recovered；　the　more　I　felt　inclined　to　despond。　The　oftener　the
English　physician　who　attended　on　him　said　to　me；　〃He　may　get　the
better　of　the　fever；　but　he　has　a　fixed　idea；　which　never　leaves
him　night　or　day；　which　has　unsettled　his　reason；　and　which　will
end　in　killing　him；　unless　you　or　some　of　his　friends　can　remove
it〃the　oftener　I　heard　this；　the　more　acutely　I　felt　my　own
powerlessness；　the　more　I　shrank　from　every　idea　that　was
connected　with　the　hopeless　future。

I　had　only　expected　to　receive　my　answer　from　Wincot　in　the　shape
of　a　letter。　It　was　consequently　a　great　surprise；　as　well　as　a
great　relief；　to　be　informed　one　day　that　two　gentlemen　wished　to
speak　with　me；　and　to　find　that　of　these　two　gentlemen　the　first
was　the　old　priest；　and　the　second　a　male　relative　of　Mrs。
Elmslie。

Just　before　their　arrival　the　fever　symptoms　had　disappeared；　and
Alfred　had　been　pronounced　out　of　danger。　Both　the　priest　and　his
companion　were　eager　to　know　when　the　sufferer　would　be　strong
enough　to　travel。　The　y　had　come　to　Cartagena　expressly　to　take
him　home　with　them；　and　felt　far　more　hopeful　than　I　did　of　the
restorative　effects　of　his　native　air。　After　all　the　questions
connected　with　the　first　important　point　of　the　journey　to
England　had　been　asked　and　answered；　I　ventured　to　make　some
inquiries　after　Miss　Elmslie。　Her　relative　informed　me　that　she
was　suffering　both　in　body　and　in　mind　from　excess　of　anxiety　on
Alfred's　account。　They　had　been　obliged　to　deceive　her　as　to　the
dangerous　nature　of　his　illness　in　order　to　deter　her　from
accompanying　the　priest　and　her　relation　on　their　mission　to
Spain。

Slowly　and　imperfectly；　as　the　weeks　wore　on；　Alfred　regained
something　of　his　former　physical　strength；　but　no　alteration
appeared　in　his　illness　as　it　affected　his　mind。

From　the　very　first　day　of　his　advance　toward　recovery；　it　had
been　discovered　that　the　brain　fever　had　exercised　the　strangest
influence　over　his　faculties　of　memory。　All　recollection　of
recent　events　was　gone　from　him。　Everything　connected　with
Naples；　with　me；　with　his　journey　to　Italy；　had　dropped　in　some
mysterious　manner　entirely　out　of　his　remembrance。　So　completely
had　all　late　circumstances　passed　from　his　memory　that；　though　he
recognized　the　old　priest　and　his　own　servant　easily　on　the　first
days　of　his　convalescence；　he　never　recognized　me；　but　regarded
me　with　such　a　wistful；　doubting　expression；　that　I　felt
inexpressibly　pained　when　I　approached　his　bedside。　All　his
questions　were　about　Miss　Elmslie　and　Wincot　Abbey；　and　all　his
talk　referred　to　the　period　when　his　father　was　yet　alive。

The　doctors　augured　good　rather　than　ill　from　this　loss　of　memory
of　recent　incidents；　saying　that　it　would　turn　out　to　be
temporary；　and　that　it　answered　the　first　great　healing　purpose
of　keeping　his　mind　at　ease。　I　tried　to　believe　themtried　to
feel　as　sanguine；　when　the　day　came　for　his　departure；　as　the　old
friends　felt　who　were　taking　him　home。　But　the　effort　was　too
much　for　me。　A　foreboding　that　I　should　never　see　him　again
oppressed　my　heart；　and　the　tears　came　into　my　eyes　as　I　saw　the
worn　figure　of　my　poor　friend　half　helped；　half　lifted　into　the
traveling…carriage；　and　borne　away　gently　on　the　road　toward
home。

He　had　never　recognized　me；　and　the　doctors　had　begged　that　I
would　give　him；　for　some　time　to　come；　as　few　opportunities　as
possible　of　doing　so。　But　for　this　request　I　should　have
accompanied　him　to　England。　As　it　was；　nothing　better　remained
for　me　to　do　than　to　change　the　scene；　and　recruit　as　I　best
could　my　energies　of　body　and　mind；　depressed　of　late　by　much
watching　and　anxiety。　The　famous　cities　of　Spain　were　not　new　to
me；　but　I　visited　them　again　and　revived　old　impressions　of　the
Alhambra　and　Madrid。　Once　or　twice　I　thought　of　making　a
pilgrimage　to　the　East；　but　late　events　had　sobered　and　altered
me。　That　yearning；　unsatisfied　feeling　which　we　call
〃homesickness〃　began　to　prey　upon　my　heart；　and　I　resolved　to
return　to　England。

I　went　back　by　way　of　Paris；　having　settled　with　the　priest　that
he　should　write　to　me　at　my　banker's　there　as　soon　as　he　could
after　Alfred　had　returned　to　Wincot。　If　I　had　gone　to　the　East；
the　letter　would　have　been　forwarded　to　me。　I　wrote　to　prevent
this；　and；　on　my　arrival　at　Paris；　stopped　at　the　banker's　before
I　went　to　my　hotel。

The　moment　the　letter　was　put　into　my　hands；　the　black　border　on
the　envelope　told　me　the　worst。　He　was　dead。

There　was　but　one　consolationhe　had　died　calmly；　almost
happily；　without　once　referring　to　those　fatal　chances　which　had
wrought　the　fulfillment　of　the　ancient　prophecy。　〃My　beloved
pupil；〃　the　old　priest　wrote；　〃seemed　to　rally　a　little　the　first
few　days　after　his　return；　but　he　gained　no　real　strength；　and
soon　suffered　a　slight　relapse　of　fever。　After　this　he　sank
gradually　and　gently　day　by　day；　and　so　departed　from　us　on　the
last　dread　journey。　Miss　Elmslie　（who　knows　that　I　am　writing
this）　desires　me　to　express　her　deep　and　lasting　gratitude　for
all　your　kindness　to　Alfred。　She　told　me　when　we　brought　him　back
that　she　had　waited　for　him　as　his　promised　wife；　and　that　she
would　nurse　him　now　as　a　wife　should；　and　she　never　left　him。　his
face　was　turned　toward　her；　his　hand　was　clasped　in　hers　when　he
died。　It　will　console　you　to　know　that　he　never　mentioned　events
at　Naples；　or　the　shipwreck　that　followed　them；　from　the　day　of
his　return　to　the　day　of　his　death。〃

Three　days　after　reading　the　letter　I　was　at　Wincot；　and　heard
all　the　details　of　Alfred's　last　moments　from　the　priest。　I　felt
a　shock　which　it　would　not　be　very　easy　for　me　to　analyze　or
explain　when　I　heard　that　he　had　been　buried；　at　his　own　desire；
in　the　fatal　Abbey　vault。

The　priest　took　me　down　to　see　the　placea　grim；　cold；
subterranean　building；　with　a　low　roof；　supported　on　heavy　Saxon
arches。　Narrow　niches；　with　the　ends　only　of　coffins　visible
within　them；　ran　down　each　side　of　the　vault。　The　nails　and
silver　ornaments　flashed　here　and　there　as　my　companion　moved
past　them　with　a　lamp　in　his　hand。　At　the　lower　end　of　the　place
he　stopped；　pointed　to　a　niche；　and　said；　〃He　lies　there；　between
his　father　and　mother。〃　I　looked　a　little　further　on；　and　saw
what　appeared　at　first　like　a　long　dark　tunnel。　〃That　is　only　an
empty　niche；〃　said　the　priest；　following　me。　〃If　the　body　of　Mr。
Stephen　Monkton　had　been　brought　to　Wincot；　his　coffin　would　have
been　placed　there。〃

A　chill　came　over　me；　and　a　sense　of　dread　which　I　am　ashamed　of
having　felt　now；　but　which　I　could　not　combat　then。　The　blessed
light　of　day　was　pouring　down　gayly　at　the　other　end　of　the　vault
through　the　open　door。　I　turned　my　back　on　the　empty　niche；　and
hurried　into　the　sunlight　and　the　fresh　air。

As　I　walked　across　the　grass　glade　leading　down　to　the　vault；　I
heard　the　rustle　of　a　woman's　dress　behind　me；　and　turning　round；
saw　a　young　lady　advancing；　clad　in　deep　mourning。　Her　sweet；　sad
face；　her　manner　as　she　held　out　her　hand；　told　me　who　it　was　in
an　instant。


〃I　heard　that　you　were　here；〃　she　said；　〃and　I　wished〃　Her
voice　faltered　a　little。　My　heart　ached　as　I　saw　how　her　lip
trembled；　but　before　I　could　say　anything　she　recovered　herself
and　went　on：　〃I　wished　to　take　your　hand；　and　thank　you　for　your
brotherly　kindness　to　Alfred；　and　I　wanted　to　tell　you　that　I　am
sure　in　all　you　did　you　acted　tenderly　and　considerately　for　the
best。　Perhaps　you　may　be　soon　going　away　from　home　again；　and　we
may　not　meet　any　more。　I　shall　never；　never　forget　that　you　were
kind　to　him　when　he　wanted　a　friend；　and　that　you　have　the
greatest　claim　of　any　one　on　earth　to　be　gratefully　remembered　in
my　thoughts　as　long　as　I　live。〃

The　inexpressible　tenderness　of　her　voice；　trembling　a　little　all
the　while　she　spoke；　the　pale　beauty　of　her　face；　the　artless
candor　in　her　sad；　quiet　eyes；　so　affected　me　that　I　could　not
trust　myself　to　answer　her　at　first　except　by　gesture。　Before　I
recovered　my　voice　she　had　given　me　her　hand　once　more　and　had
left　me。

I　never　saw　her　again。　The　chances　and　changes　of　life　kept　us
apart。　When　I　last　heard　of　her；　years　and　years　ago；　she　was
faithful　to　the　memory　of　the　dead；　and　was　Ada　Elmslie　still　for
Alfred　Monkton's　sake。


THE　FIFTH　DAY。


STILL　cloudy；　but　no　rain　to　keep　our　young　lady　indoors。　The
paper；　as　usual；　without　interest　to　_me_。

To…day　Owen　actually　vanquished　his　difficulties　and　finished　his
story。　I　numbered　it　Eight；　and　threw　the　corresponding　number
（as　I　had　done　the　day　before　in　Morgan's　case）　into　the　china
bowl。

Although　I　could　discover　no　direct　evidence　against　her；　I
strongly　suspected　The　Queen　of　Hearts　of　tampering　with　the　lots
on　the　fifth　evening；　to　irritate　Morgan　by　making　it　his　turn　to
read　again；　after　the　shortest　possible　interval　of　repose。
However　that　might　be；　the　number　drawn　was　certainly　Seven；　and
the　story　to　be　read　was　consequently　the　story　which　my