Collins_Armadale.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
had
the agent's second son (the young chap you nicknamed ,
when he made that dreadful mess about the )
to dine with me on . little incident happened in the
evening which may be worth recording, as it connected itself
with a certain old lady who was not 'at home' when you and .
blundered on that house in in the bygone time.
" was like all the rest of you young men of the present
day--he got restless after dinner. ''s go to a public
amusement, . ,' says he. ' amusement? ,
it's evening!' says . ' right, sir,' says .
' stop acting on the stage, grant you, on evening
--but they don't stop acting in the pulpit. and see the last
new performer of our time.' he wouldn't have any more
wine, there was nothing else for it but to go.
" went to a street at the , and found it blocked up
with carriages. it hadn't been night, should have
thought we were going to the opera. ' did tell you?' says
, taking me up to an open door with a gas star outside
and a bill of the performance. had just time to notice that
was going to one of a series of ' on
the and of the , by
,' when jogged my elbow, and whispered, ' a
crown is the fashionable tip.' found myself between two demure
and silent gentlemen, with plates in their hands, uncommonly well
filled already with the fashionable tip. patronized one
plate, and the other. passed through two doors into a long
room, crammed with people. there, on a platform at the
further end, holding forth to the audience, was--not a man, as
had expected-- but a , and that woman, !
never listened to anything more eloquent in your life. long as
heard her she was never once at a loss for a word anywhere.
shall think less of oratory as a human accomplishment, for the
rest of my days, after that evening. for the matter of
the sermon, may describe it as a narrative of . 's
experience among dilapidated women, profusely illustrated in the
pious and penitential style. will ask what sort of audience
it was. , --and, as hope to be saved,
all the old harridans of the world of fashion whom
had enameled in her time, sitting boldly in the front
places, with their cheeks ruddled with paint, in a state of
devout enjoyment wonderful to see! left to hear
the end of it. thought to myself, as went out, of what
says somewhere, ', what fools we mortals be!'
" anything more to tell you before leave off? one
thing that can remember.
" wretched old has confirmed the fears told you
had about him when he was brought back here from . is
no kind of doubt that he has really lost all the little reason he
ever had. is perfectly harmless, and perfectly happy. he
would do very well if we could only prevent him from going out in
his last new suit of clothes, smirking and smiling and inviting
everybody to his approaching marriage with the handsomest woman
in . ends of course in the boys pelting him, and
in his coming here crying to me, covered with mud. moment
his clothes are cleaned again he falls back into his favorite
delusion, and struts about before the church gates, in the
character of a bridegroom, waiting for . must get
the poor wretch taken care of somewhere for the rest of the
little time he has to live. would ever have thought of a man
at his age falling in love? who would ever have believed that
the mischief that woman's beauty has done could have reached as
far in the downward direction as our superannuated old clerk?
"-by, for the present, my dear boy. you see a particularly
handsome snuff-box in , remember--though your father scorns
--he doesn't object to receive a present from his
son.
" affectionately,
. , .
".-- think it likely that the account you mention in
the papers, of a fatal quarrel among some foreign sailors
in one of the , and of the death of their captain,
among others, may really have been a quarrel among the scoundrels
who robbed . and scuttled his yacht. __ fellows,
luckily for society, can't always keep up appearances; and,
in their case, and do occasionally come into
collision with each other."
.
.
spring had advanced to the end of . was the eve of
's wedding-day. and he had sat talking together at
the great house till far into the night--till so far that it had
struck twelve long since, and the wedding day was already some
hours old.
the most part the conversation had turned on the bridegroom's
plans and projects. was not till the two friends rose to go to
rest that insisted on making speak of himself.
" have had enough, and more than enough, of _my_ future," he
began, in his bluntly straightforward way. "'s say something
now, , about yours. have promised me, know, that,
if you take to literature, it shan't part us, and that, if you go
on a sea-voyage, you will remember, when you come back, that my
house is your home. this is the last chance we have of being
together in our old way; and own should like to know--"
voice faltered, and his eyes moistened a little. left the
sentence unfinished.
took his hand and helped him, as he had often helped
him to the words that he wanted in the by-gone time.
" would like to know, ," he said, "that shall not bring
an aching heart with me to your wedding day? you will let me
go back for a moment to the past, think can satisfy you."
took their chairs again. saw that was moved.
" distress yourself?" he asked, kindly--"why go back to the
past?"
" two reasons, . ought to have thanked you long since
for the silence you have observed, for my sake, on a matter that
must have seemed very strange to you. know what the name is
which appears on the register of my marriage, and yet you have
forborne to speak of it, from the fear of distressing me.
you enter on your new life, let us come to a first and last
understanding about this. ask you--as one more kindness to
me--to accept my assurance (strange as the thing may seem to you)
that am blameless in this matter; and entreat you to believe
that the reasons have for leaving it unexplained are reasons
which, if . was living, . himself would approve."
those words he kept the secret of the two names; and left the
memory of 's mother, what he had found it, a sacred memory
in the heart of her son.
" word more," he went on--"a word which will take us, this
time, from past to future. has been said, and truly said,
that out of may come . of the horror and the misery
of that night you know of has come the silencing of a doubt which
once made my life miserable with groundless anxiety about you
and about myself. clouds raised by my superstition will ever
come between us again. can't honestly tell you that am more
willing now than was when we were in the of to take
what is called the rational view of your . know
what extraordinary coincidences are perpetually happening in
the experience of all of us, still cannot accept coincidences
as explaining the fulfillment of the which our own eyes
have seen. can sincerely say for myself is, what think it
will satisfy you to know, that have learned to view the purpose
of the with a new mind. once believed that it was sent
to rouse your distrust of the friendless man whom you had taken
as a brother to your heart. now _know_ that it came to you
as a timely warning to take him closer still. this help
to satisfy you that , too, am standing hopefully on the brink of
a new life, and that while we live, brother, your love and mine
will never be divided again?"
shook hands in silence. was the first to recover
himself. answered in the few words of kindly assurance which
were the best words that he could address to his friend.
" have heard all ever want to hear about the past," he said;
"and know what most wanted to know about the future.
says, , you have a career before you, and
believe that everybody is right. knows what great things
may happen before you and are many years older?"
" _need_ know?" said , calmly. " what may,
is all-merciful, is all-wise. those words your dear old
friend once wrote to me. that faith can look back without
murmuring at the years that are past, and can look on without
doubting to the years that are to come."
rose, and walked to the window. they had been speaking
together the darkness had passed. first light of the new day
met him as he looked out, and rested tenderly on his face.
.
-- readers will perceive that have purposely left them,
with reference to the in this story, in the position which
they would occupy in the case of a dream in real life: they are
free to interpret it by the natural or the supernatural theory,
as the bent of their own minds may incline them. disposed
to take the rational view may, under these circumstances, be
interested in hearing of a coincidence relating to the present
story, which actually happened, and which in the matter of
"extravagant improbability" sets anything of the same kind that
a novelist could imagine at flat defiance.
, 1865, that is to say, when thirteen monthly parts
of "" had been published, and, may add, when more than
a year and a half had elapsed since the end of the story, as it
now appears, was first sketched in my notebook--a vessel lay in
the at which was looked after by one man,
who slept on board, in the capacity of shipkeeper. a certain
day in the week this man was found dead in the deck-house. the
next day a second man, who had taken his place, was carried dying
to the . the third day a third ship-keeper
was appointed, and was found dead in the deck-house which had
already proved fatal to the other two. _ name of that ship was
" ."_ the proceedings at the proved that
the three men had been all suffocated _by sleeping in poisoned
air_!
am indebted for these particulars to the kindness of the
reporters at , who sent me their statement of the facts.
case found its way into most of the newspapers. was
noticed--to give two instances in which can cite the dates--in
the __ of 30th, 1865, and was more fully described
in the _ _ of 28th, in the same year.
taking leave of "," may perhaps be allowed
to mention, for the benefit of any readers who may be curious
on such points, that the " " are here described
after personal investigation of them. this, as in other cases,
have spared no pains to instruct myself on matters of fact.
the story touches on questions connected with ,
, or , it has been submitted before publication
to the experience of professional men. kindness of a friend
supplied me with a plan of the doctor's apparatus, and saw
the chemical ingredients at work before ventured on describing
the action of them in the closing scenes of this book.