the queen of hearts-第65章

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only　have　laid　hands　on　that　letter；　she　would　have　consulted　her
husband's　dignity　and　independence　by　putting　it　in　the　fire！　She
hoped　and　prayed　the　number　of　the　paper　might　not　be　found！　In
fact；　it　was　certain　that　the　number；　after　all　these　years；
could　not　possibly　be　hunted　up。　The　idea　of　his　acknowledging
himself　to　be　in　the　wrong　in　that　way；　when　he　knew　himself　to
be　in　the　right！　It　was　almost　ridiculousno；　it　was　_quite_
ridiculous！　And　she　threw　herself　back　on　the　sofa；　and　suddenly
burst　out　laughing。

At　the　first　word　of　remonstrance　which　fell　from　her　husband's
lips　her　mood　changed　again　in　an　instant。　She　sprang　up　once
more；　kissed　him　passionately；　with　the　tears　streaming　from　her
eyes；　and　implored　him　to　leave　her　alone　to　recover　herself。　He
quitted　the　room　so　seriously　alarmed　about　her　that　he　resolved
to　go　to　the　doctor　privately　and　question　him　on　the　spot。　There
was　an　unspeakable　dread　in　his　mind　that　the　ner　vous　attack
from　which　she　had　been　pronounced　to　be　suffering　might　be　a
mere　phrase　intended　to　prepare　him　for　the　future　disclosure　of
something　infinitely　and　indescribably　worse。

The　doctor；　on　hearing　Mr。　Carling's　report；　exhibited　no
surprise　and　held　to　his　opinion。　Her　nervous　system　was　out　of
order；　and　her　husband　had　been　needlessly　frightened　by　a
hysterical　paroxysm。　If　she　did　not　get　better　in　a　week；　change
of　scene　might　then　be　tried。　In　the　meantime；　there　was　not　the
least　cause　for　alarm。

On　the　next　day　she　was　quieter；　but　she　hardly　spoke　at　all。　At
night　she　slept　well；　and　Mr。　Carling's　faith　in　the　medical　man
revived　again。

The　morning　after　was　the　morning　which　would　bring　the　answer
from　the　publisher　in　London。　The　rector's　study　was　on　the
ground　floor；　and　when　he　heard　the　postman's　knock；　being
especially　anxious　that　morning　about　his　correspondence；　he　went
out　into　the　hall　to　receive　his　letters　the　moment　they　were　put
on　the　table。

It　was　not　the　footman　who　had　answered　the　door；　as　usual；　but
Mrs。　Carling's　maid。　She　had　taken　the　letters　from　the　postman；
and　she　was　going　away　with　them　upstairs。

He　stopped　her；　and　asked　her　why　she　did　not　put　the　letters　on
the　hall　table　as　usual。　The　maid；　looking　very　much　confused；
said　that　her　mistress　had　desired　that　whatever　the　postman　had
brought　that　morning　should　be　carried　up　to　her　room。　He　took
the　letters　abruptly　from　the　girl；　without　asking　any　more
questions；　and　went　back　into　his　study。

Up　to　this　time　no　shadow　of　a　suspicion　had　fallen　on　his　mind。
Hitherto　there　had　been　a　simple　obvious　explanation　for　every
unusual　event　that　had　occurred　during　the　last　three　or　four
days；　but　this　last　circumstance　in　connection　with　the　letters
was　not　to　be　accounted　for。　Nevertheless；　even　now；　it　was　not
distrust　of　his　wife　that　was　busy　at　his　mindhe　was　too　fond
of　her　and　too　proud　of　her　to　feel　itthe　sensation　was　more
like　uneasy　surprise。　He　longed　to　go　and　question　her；　and　get　a
satisfactory　answer；　and　have　done　with　it。　But　there　was　a　voice
speaking　within　him　that　had　never　made　itself　heard　beforea
voice　with　a　persistent　warning　in　it；　that　said；　Wait；　and　look
at　your　letters　first。

He　spread　them　out　on　the　table　with　hands　that　trembled　he　knew
not　why。　Among　them　was　the　back　number　of　the　_Times_　for　which
he　had　written　to　London；　with　a　letter　from　the　publisher
explaining　the　means　by　which　the　copy　had　been　procured。

He　opened　the　newspaper　with　a　vague　feeling　of　alarm　at　finding
that　those　letters　to　the　editor　which　he　had　been　so　eager　to
read；　and　that　perfecting　of　the　mutilated　volume　which　he　had
been　so　anxious　to　accomplish；　had　become　objects　of　secondary
importance　in　his　mind。　An　inexplicable　curiosity　about　the
general　contents　of　the　paper　was　now　the　one　moving　influence
which　asserted　itself　within　him；　he　spread　open　the　broad　sheet
on　the　table。

The　first　page　on　which　his　eye　fell　was　the　page　on　the
right…hand　side。　It　contained　those　very　lettersthree　in
numberwhich　he　had　once　been　so　anxious　to　see。　He　tried　to
read　them；　but　no　effort　could　fix　his　wandering　attention。　He
looked　aside　to　the　opposite　page；　on　the　left　hand。　It　was　the
page　that　contained　the　leading　articles。

They　were　three　in　number。　The　first　was　on　foreign　politics；　the
second　was　a　sarcastic　commentary　on　a　recent　division　in　the
House　of　Lords；　the　third　was　one　of　those　articles　on　social
subjects　which　have　greatly　and　honorably　helped　to　raise　the
reputation　of　the　_Times_　above　all　contest　and　all　rivalry。

The　lines　of　this　third　article　which　first　caught　his　eye
comprised　the　opening　sentence　of　the　second　paragraph；　and
contained　these　words：

It　appears；　from　the　narrative　which　will　be　found　in　another
part　of　our　columns；　that　this　unfortunate　woman　married；　in　the
spring　of　the　year　18；　one　Mr。　Fergus　Duncan；　of　Glendarn；　in
the　Highlands　of　Scotland。　。　。


The　letters　swam　and　mingled　together　under　his　eyes　before　he
could　go　on　to　the　next　sentence。　His　wife　exhibited　as　an　object
for　public　compassion　in　the　_Times_　newspaper！　On　the　brink　of
the　dreadful　discovery　that　was　advancing　on　him；　his　mind　reeled
back；　and　a　deadly　faintness　came　over　him。　There　was　water　on　a
side…tablehe　drank　a　deep　draught　of　itroused　himselfseized
on　the　newspaper　with　both　hands；　as　if　it　had　been　a　living
thing　that　could　feel　the　desperate　resolution　of　his　grasp；　and
read　the　article　through；　sentence　by　sentence；　word　by　word。

The　subject　was　the　Law　of　Divorce；　and　the　example　quoted　was
the　example　of　his　wife。

At　that　time　England　stood　disgracefully　alone　as　the　one
civilized　country　in　the　world　having　a　divorce　law　for　the
husband　which　was　not　also　a　divorce　law　for　the　wife。　The　writer
in　the　_Times_　boldly　and　eloquently　exposed　this　discreditable
anomaly　in　the　administration　of　justice；　hinted　delicately　at
the　unutterable　wrongs　suffered　by　Mrs。　Duncan；　and　plainly
showed　that　she　was　indebted　to　the　accident　of　having　been
married　in　Scotland；　and　to　her　consequent　right　of　appeal　to　the
Scotch　tribunals；　for　a　full　and　final　release　from　the　tie　that
bound　her　to　the　vilest　of　husbands；　which　the　English　law　of
that　day　would　have　mercilessly　refused。

He　read　that。　Other　men　might　have　gone　on　to　the　narrative
extracted　from　the　Scotch　newspaper。　But　at　the　last　word　of　the
article　_he_　stopped。

The　newspaper；　and　the　unread　details　which　it　contained；　lost
all　hold　on　his　attention　in　an　instant；　and　in　their　stead；
living　and　burning　on　his　mind；　like　the　Letters　of　Doom　on　the
walls　of　Belshazzar；　there　rose　up　in　judgment　against　him　the
last　words　of　a　verse　in　the　Gospel　of　Saint　Luke

_〃Whosoever　marrieth　her　that　is　put　away　from　her　husband；
commiteth　adultery。〃_

He　had　preached　from　these　words；　he　had　warned　his　hearers；　with
the　whole　strength　of　the　fanatical　sincerity　that　was　in　him；　to
beware　of　prevaricating　with　the　prohibition　which　that　verse
contained；　and　to　accept　it　as　literally；　unreservedly；　finally
forbidding　the　marriage　of　a　divorced　woman。　He　had　insisted　on
that　plain　interpretation　of　plain　words　in　terms　which　had　made
his　congregation　tremble。　And　now　he　stood　alone　in　the　secrecy
of　his　own　chamber　self…convicted　of　the　deadly　sin　which　he　had
denouncedhe　stood；　as　he　had　told　the　wicked　among　his　hearers
that　they　would　stand　at　the　Last　Day；　before　the　Judgment　Seat。

He　was　unconscious　of　the　lapse　of　time；　he　never　knew　whether　it
was　many　minutes　or　few　before　the　door　of　his　room　was　suddenly
and　softly　opened。　It　did　open；　and　his　wife　came　in。

In　her　white　dress；　with　a　white　shawl　thrown　over　her　shoulders；
her　dark　hair；　so　neat　and　glossy　at　other　times；　hanging　tangled
about　her　colorless　cheeks；　and　heightening　the　glassy　brightness
of　terror　in　her　eyesso　he　saw　her；　the　woman　put　away　from　her
husbandthe　woman　whose　love　had　made　his　life　happy　and　had
stained　his　soul　with　a　deadly　sin。

She　came　on　to　within　a　few　paces　of　him　without　a　word　or　a
tear；　or　a　shadow　of　change　passing　over　the　dreadful　rigidity　of
her　fac