the black robe-第50章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


opportunity　of　completing　the　conversion　of　Romayne。　During　this



interval；　my　copies　of　the　papers　are　at　the　disposal　of　my



reverend　brethren　at　headquarters。







　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　







THE　STOLEN　PAPERS。（COPIES。）







_Number　One。From　Emma　Winterfield　to　Bernard　Winterfield。_







4　Maidwell　Buildings；　Belhaven。







How　shall　I　address　you？　Dear　Bernard；　or　Sir？　It　doesn't　matter。



I　am　going　to　do　one　of　the　few　good　actions　of　my　life：　and



familiarities　or　formalities　matter　nothing　to　a　woman　who　lies



on　her　deathbed。







YesI　have　met　with　another　accident。　Shortly　after　the　date　of



our　separation；　you　heard；　I　think；　of　the　fall　in　the　circus



that　fractured　my　skull？　On　that　occasion；　a　surgical　operation；



and　a　bit　of　silver　plate　in　place　of　the　bone；　put　me　right



again。　This　time　it　has　been　the　kick　of　a　horse；　in　the　stables。



Some　internal　injury　is　the　consequence。　I　may　die　to…morrow；　or



live　till　next　week。　Anywaythe　doctor　has　confessed　itmy　time



has　come。







Mind　one　thing。　The　drinkthat　vile　habit　which　lost　me　your



love　and　banished　me　from　your　housethe　drink　is　not　to　blame



for　this　last　misfortune。　Only　the　day　before　it　happened　I　had



taken　the　pledge；　under　persuasion　of　the　good　rector　here；　the



Reverend　Mr。　Fennick。　It　is　he　who　has　brought　me　to　make　this



confession；　and　who　takes　it　down　in　writing　at　my　bedside。　Do



you　remember　how　I　once　hated　the　very　name　of　a　parsonand　when



you　proposed；　in　joke；　to　marry　me　before　the　registrar；　how　I



took　it　in　downright　earnest；　and　kept　you　to　your　word？　We　poor



horse…riders　and　acrobats　only　knew　clergymen　as　the　worst



enemies　we　hadalways　using　their　influence　to　keep　the　people



out　of　our　show；　and　the　bread　out　of　our　mouths。　If　I　had　met



with　Mr。　Fennick　in　my　younger　days；　what　a　different　woman　I



might　have　been！







Well；　regrets　of　that　kind　are　useless　now。　I　am　truly　sorry；



Bernard；　for　the　evil　that　I　have　done　to　you；　and　I　ask　your



pardon　with　a　contrite　heart。







You　will　at　least　allow　it　in　my　favor　that　your　drunken　wife



knew　she　was　unworthy　of　you。　I　refused　to　accept　the　allowance



that　you　offered　to　me。　I　respected　your　name。　For　seven　years



from　the　time　of　our　separation　I　returned　to　my　profession　under



an　assumed　name　and　never　troubled　you。　The　one　thing　I　could　not



do　was　to　forget　you。　If　you　were　infatuated　by　my　unlucky



beauty；　I　loved　devotedly　on　my　side。　The　well…born　gentleman　who



had　sacrificed　everything　for　my　sake；　was　something　more　than



mortal　in　my　estimation；　he　wasno！　I　won't　shock　the　good　man



who　writes　this　by　saying　what　he　was。　Besides；　what　do　you　care



for　my　thoughts　of　you　now？







If　you　had　only　been　content　to　remain　as　I　left　youor　if　I　had



not　found　out　that　you　were　in　love　with　Miss　Eyrecourt；　and　were



likely　to　marry　her；　in　the　belief　that　death　had　released　you



from　meI　should　have　lived　and　died；　doing　you　no　other　injury



than　the　first　great　injury　of　consenting　to　be　your　wife。







But　I　made　the　discoveryit　doesn't　matter　how。　Our　circus　was



in　Devonshire　at　the　time。　My　jealous　rage　maddened　me；　and　I　had



a　wicked　admirer　in　a　man　who　was　old　enough　to　be　my　father。　I



let　him　suppose　that　the　way　to　my　favor　lay　through　helping　my



revenge　on　the　woman　who　was　about　to　take　my　place。　He　found　the



money　to　have　you　watched　at　home　and　abroad；　he　put　the　false



announcement　of　my　death　in　the　daily　newspapers；　to　complete



your　delusion；　he　baffled　the　inquiries　made　through　your　lawyers



to　obtain　positive　proof　of　my　death。　And　last；　and　（in　those



wicked　days）　best　service　of　all　he　took　me　to　Brussels　and



posted　me　at　the　door　of　the　English　church；　so　that　your　lawful



wife　（with　her　marriage　certificate　in　her　hand）　was　the　first



person　who　met　you　and　the　mock　Mrs。　Winterfield　on　your　way　from



the　altar　to　the　wedding　breakfast。







I　own　it；　to　my　shame。　I　triumphed　in　the　mischief　I　had　done。







But　I　had　deserved　to　suffer；　and　I　did　suffer；　when　I　heard　that



Miss　Eyrecourt's　mother　and　her　two　friends　took　her　away　from



youwith　her　own　entire　approvalat　the　church　door；　and



restored　her　to　society；　without　a　stain　on　her　reputation。　How



the　Brussels　marriage　was　kept　a　secret；　I　could　not　find　out。



And　when　I　threatened　them　with　exposure；　I　got　a　lawyer's



letter；　and　was　advised　in　my　own　interests　to　hold　my　tongue。



The　rector　has　since　told　me　that　your　marriage　to　Miss　Eyrecourt



could　be　lawfully　declared　null　and　void；　and　that　the



circumstances　would　excuse　_you_；　before　any　judge　in　England。　I



can　now　well　understand　that　people；　with　rank　and　money　to　help



them；　can　avoid　exposure　to　which　the　poor；　in　their　places；　must



submit。







One　more。　duty　（the　last）　still　remains　to　be　done。







I　declare　solemnly；　on　my　deathbed；　that　you　acted　in　perfect



good　faith　when　you　married　Miss　Eyrecourt。　You　have　not　only



been　a　man　cruelly　injured　by　me；　but　vilely　insulted　and



misjudged　by　the　two　Eyrecourts；　and　by　the　lord　and　lady　who



encouraged　them　to　set　you　down　as　a　villain　guilty　of　heartless





and　shameless　deceit。







It　is　my　conviction　that　these　people　might　have　done　more　than



misinterpret　your　honorable　submission　to　the　circumstances　in



which　you　were　placed。　They　might　have　prosecuted　you　for



bigamyif　they　could　have　got　me　to　appear　against　you。　I　am



comforted　when　I　remember　that　I　did　make　some　small　amends。　I



kept　out　of　their　way　and　yours；　from　that　day　to　this。







I　am　told　that　I　owe　it　to　you　to　leave　proof　of　my　death　behind



me。







When　the　doctor　writes　my　certificate；　he　will　mention　the　mark



by　which　I　may　be　identified；　if　this　reaches　you　（as　I　hope　and



believe　it　will）　between　the　time　of　my　death　and　my　burial。　The



rector；　who　will　close　and　seal　these　lines；　as　soon　as　the



breath　is　out　of　my　body；　will　add　what　he　can　to　identify　me；



and　the　landlady　of　this　house　is　ready　to　answer　any　questions



that　may　be　put　to　her。　This　time　you　may　be　really　assured　that



you　are　free。　When　I　am　buried；　and　they　show　you　my　nameless



grave　in　the　churchyard；　I　know　your　kind　heartI　die；　Bernard；



in　the　firm　belief　that　you　will　forgive　me。







There　was　one　thing　more　that　I　had　to　ask　of　you；　relating　to　a



poor　lost　creature　who　is　in　the　room　with　us　at　this　moment。



But；　oh；　I　am　so　weary！　Mr。　Fennick　will　tell　you　what　it　is。　Say



to　yourself　sometimesperhaps　when　you　have　married　some　lady



who　is　worthy　of　youThere　was　good　as　well　as　bad　in　poor　Emma。



Farewell。







_Number　TwoFrom　The　Rev。　Charles　Fennick　to　Bernard



Winterfield。_







The　Rectory；　Belhaven。







SirIt　is　my　sad　duty　to　inform　you　that　Mrs。　Emma　Winterfield



died　this　morning；　a　little　before　five　o'clock。　I　will　add　no



comment　of　mine　to　the　touching　language　in　which　she　has



addressed　you。　God　has；　I　most　sincerely　believe；　accepted　the



poor　sinner's　repentance。　Her　contrite　spirit　is　at　peace；　among



the　forgiven　ones　in　the　world　beyond　the　grave。







In　consideration　of　her　wish　that　you　should　see　her　in　death；



the　coffin　will　be　kept　open　until　the　last　moment。　The　medical



man　in　attendance　has　kindly　given　me　a　copy　of　his　certificate；



which　I　inclose。　You　will　see　that　the　remains　are　identified　by



the　description　of　a　small　silver　plate　on　the　right　parietal



bone　of　the　skull。







I　need　hardly　add　that　all　the