armadale-第200章

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trying　now？　There　was　none。　Any　openly　avowed　posture　of
defensewhile　the　nature　of　the　danger；　and　the　quarter　from
which　it　might　come；　were　alike　unknownwould　be　useless　in
itself；　and　worse　than　useless　in　the　consequences　which　it　might
produce　by　putting　the　people　of　the　house　on　their　guard。
Without　a　fact　that　could　justify　to　other　minds　his　distrust　of
what　might　happen　with　the　night；　incapable　of　shaking　Allan's
ready　faith　in　the　fair　outside　which　the　doctor　had　presented　to
him；　the　one　safeguard　in　his　friend's　interests　that　Midwinter
could　set　up　was　the　safeguard　of　changing　the　roomsthe　one
policy　he　could　follow；　come　what　might　of　it；　was　the　policy　of
waiting　for　events。　〃I　can　trust　to　one　thing；〃　he　said　to
himself；　as　he　looked　for　the　last　time　up　and　down　the
corridor〃I　can　trust　myself　to　keep　awake。〃

After　a　glance　at　the　clock　on　the　wall　opposite；　he　went　into
Number　Four。　The　sound　of　the　closing　door　was　heard；　the　sound
of　the　turning　lock　followed　it。　Then　the　dead　silence　fell　over
the　house　once　more。

Little　by　little；　the　steward's　horror　of　the　stillness　and　the
darkness　overcame　his　dread　of　moving　the　handkerchief。　He
cautiously　drew　aside　one　corner　of　it；　waited；　looked；　and　took
courage　at　last　to　draw　the　whole　handkerchief　through　the　wires
of　the　grating。　After　first　hiding　it　in　his　pocket；　he　thought
of　the　consequences　if　it　was　found　on　him；　and　threw　it　down　in
a　corner　of　the　room。　He　trembled　when　he　had　cast　it　from　him；
as　he　looked　at　his　watch　and　placed　himself　again　at　the　grating
to　wait　for　Miss　Gwilt。

It　was　a　quarter　to　one。　The　moon　had　come　round　from　the　side　to
the　front　of　the　Sanitarium。　From　time　to　time　her　light　gleamed
on　the　window　of　the　corridor　when　the　gaps　in　the　flying　clouds
let　it　through。　The　wind　had　risen；　and　sung　its　mournful　song
faintly；　as　it　swept　at　intervals　over　the　desert　ground　in　front
of　the　house。

The　minute　hand　of　the　clock　traveled　on　halfway　round　the　circle
of　the　dial。　As　it　touched　the　quarter…past　one；　Miss　Gwilt
stepped　noiselessly　into　the　corridor。　〃Let　yourself　out；〃　she
whispered　through　the　grating；　〃and　follow　me。〃　She　returned　to
the　stairs　by　which　she　had　just　descended；　pushed　the　door　to
softly　after　Mr。　Bashwood　had　followed　her　and　led　the　way　up　to
the　landing　of　the　second　floor。　There　she　put　the　question　to
him　which　she　had　not　ventured　to　put　below　stairs。

〃Was　Mr。　Armadale　shown　into　Number　Four？〃　she　asked。

He　bowed　his　head　without　speaking。

〃Answer　me　in　words。　Has　Mr。　Armadale　left　the　room　since？〃

He　answered；　〃No。〃

〃Have　you　never　lost　sight　of　Number　Four　since　I　left　you？〃

He　answered；　〃_Never！_〃

Something　strange　in　his　manner；　something　unfamiliar　in　his
voice；　as　he　made　that　last　reply；　attracted　her　attention。　She
took　her　candle　from　a　table　near；　on　which　she　had　left　it；　and
threw　its　light　on　him。　His　eyes　were　staring；　his　teeth
chattered。　There　was　everything　to　betray　him　to　her　as　a
terrified　man；　there　was　nothing　to　tell　her　that　the　terror　was
caused　by　his　consciousness　of　deceiving　her；　for　the　first　time
in　his　life；　to　her　face。　If　she　had　threatened　him　less　openly
when　she　placed　him　on　the　watch；　if　she　had　spoken　less
unreservedly　of　the　interview　which　was　to　reward　him　in　the
morning；　he　might　have　owned　the　truth。　As　it　was；　his　strongest
fears　and　his　dearest　hopes　were　alike　interested　in　telling　her
the　fatal　lie　that　he　had　now　toldthe　fatal　lie　which　he
reiterated　when　she　put　her　question　for　the　second　time。

She　looked　at　him；　deceived　by　the　last　man　on　earth　whom　she
would　have　suspected　of　deceptionthe　man　w　hom　she　had　deceived
herself。

〃You　seem　to　be　overexcited；〃　she　said　quietly。　〃The　night　has
been　too　much　for　you。　Go　upstairs；　and　rest。　You　will　find　the
door　of　one　of　the　rooms　left　open。　That　is　the　room　you　are　to
occupy。　Good…night。〃

She　put　the　candle　（which　she　had　left　burning　for　him）　on　the
table；　and　gave　him　her　hand。　He　held　her　back　by　it　desperately
as　she　turned　to　leave　him。　His　horror　of　what　might　happen　when
she　was　left　by　herself　forced　the　words　to　his　lips　which　he
would　have　feared　to　speak　to　her　at　any　other　time。

〃Don't；〃　he　pleaded；　in　a　whisper；　〃oh；　don't；　don't；　don't　go
downstairs　to…night！〃

She　released　her　hand；　and　signed　to　him　to　take　the　candle。　〃You
shall　see　me　to…morrow；〃　she　said。　〃Not　a　word　more　now！〃

Her　stronger　will　conquered　him　at　that　last　moment；　as　it　had
conquered　him　throughout。　He　took　the　candle　and　waited；
following　her　eagerly　with　his　eyes　as　she　descended　the　stairs。
The　cold　of　the　December　night　seemed　to　have　found　its　way　to
her　through　the　warmth　of　the　house。　She　had　put　on　a　long；　heavy
black　shawl；　and　had　fastened　it　close　over　her　breast。　The
plaited　coronet　in　which　she　wore　her　hair　seemed　to　have　weighed
too　heavily　on　her　head。　She　had　untwisted　it；　and　thrown　it　back
over　her　shoulders。　The　old　man　looked　at　her　flowing　hair；　as　it
lay　red　over　the　black　shawlat　her　supple；　long…fingered　hand；
as　it　slid　down　the　banistersat　the　smooth；　seductive　grace　of
every　movement　that　took　her　further　and　further　away　from　him。
〃The　night　will　go　quickly；〃　he　said　to　himself；　as　she　passed
from　his　view；　〃I　shall　dream　of　her　till　the　morning　comes！〃


She　secured　the　staircase　door；　after　she　had　passed　through
itlistened；　and　satisfied　herself　that　nothing　was
stirringthen　went　on　slowly　along　the　corridor　to　the　window。
Leaning　on　the　window…sill；　she　looked　out　at　the　night。　The
clouds　were　over　the　moon　at　that　moment；　nothing　was　to　be　seen
through　the　darkness　but　the　scattered　gas…lights　in　the　suburb。
Turning　from　the　window；　she　looked　at　the　clock。　It　was　twenty
minutes　past　one。

For　the　last　time；　the　resolution　that　had　come　to　her　in　the
earlier　night；　with　the　knowledge　that　her　husband　was　in　the
house；　forced　itself　uppermost　in　her　mind。　For　the　last　time；
the　voice　within　her　said；　〃Think　if　there　is　no　other　way！〃

She　pondered　over　it　till　the　minute…hand　of　the　clock　pointed　to
the　half…hour。　〃No！〃　she　said；　still　thinking　of　her　husband。
〃The　one　chance　left　is　to　go　through　with　it　to　the　end。　He　will
leave　the　thing　undone　which　he　has　come　here　to　do；　he　will
leave　the　words　unspoken　which　he　has　come　here　to　saywhen　he
knows　that　the　act　may　make　me　a　public　scandal；　and　that　the
words　may　send　me　to　the　scaffold！〃　Her　color　rose；　and　she
smiled　with　a　terrible　irony　as　she　looked　for　the　first　time　at
the　door　of　the　Room。　〃I　shall　be　your　widow；〃　she　said；　〃in　half
an　hour！〃

She　opened　the　case　of　the　apparatus　and　took　the　Purple　Flask　in
her　hand。　After　marking　the　time　by　a　glance　at　the　clock；　she
dropped　into　the　glass　funnel　the　first　of　the　six　separate
Pourings　that　were　measured　for　her　by　the　paper　slips。

When　she　had　put　the　Flask　back；　she　listened　at　the　mouth　of　the
funnel。　Not　a　sound　reached　her　ear：　the　deadly　process　did　its
work　in　the　silence　of　death　itself。　When　she　rose　and　looked　up；
the　moon　was　shining　in　at　the　window；　and　the　moaning　wind　was
quiet。

Oh；　the　time！　the　time！　If　it　could　only　have　been　begun　and
ended　with　the　first　Pouring！

She　went　downstairs　into　the　hall；　she　walked　to　and　fro；　and
listened　at　the　open　door　that　led　to　the　kitchen　stairs。　She
came　up　again；　she　went　down　again。　The　first　of　the　intervals　of
five　minutes　was　endless。　The　time　stood　still。　The　suspense　was
maddening。

The　interval　passed。　As　she　took　the　Flask　for　the　second　time；
and　dropped　in　the　second　Pouring；　the　clouds　floated　over　the
moon；　and　the　night　view　through　the　window　slowly　darkened。

The　restlessness　that　had　driven　her　up　and　down　the　stairs；　and
backward　and　forward　in　the　hall；　left　her　as　suddenly　as　it　had
come。　She　waited　through　the　second　interval；　leaning　on　the
window…sill；　and　staring；　without　conscious　thought　of　any　kind；
into　the　black　night。　The　howling　of　a　belated　dog　was　borne
toward　her　on　the　wind；　at　intervals；　from　some　distant　part　of
the　suburb。　She　found　herself　following　the　faint　sound　as　it
died　away　into　silence　with　a