Poor Miss Finch

by Wilkie Collins

  CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIFTH

  Lucilla tries her Sight

  SHE was sitting alone in the dim light, with the bandage over her eyes,with her pretty hands crossed patiently on her lap. My heart swelled inme as I looked at her, and felt the horrid discovery that I had madestill present in my mind. "Forgive me for leaving you," I said in assteady a voice as I could command at the moment--and kissed her.

  She instantly discovered my agitation, carefully as I thought I hadconcealed it.

  "You are frightened too!" she exclaimed, taking my hands in hers.

  "Frightened, my love?" I repeated. (I was perfectly stupefied; I reallydid not know what to say!)

  "Yes. Now the time is so near, I feel my courage failing me. I forbodeall sorts of horrible things. Oh! when will it be over? what will Oscarlook like when I see him?"

  I answered the first question. Who could answer the second?

  "Herr Grosse comes to us by the morning train," I said. "It will soon beover."

  "Where is Oscar?"

  "On his way here, I have no doubt."

  "Describe him to me once more," she said eagerly. "For the last time,before I see. His eyes, his hair, his complexion--everything!"

  How I should have got through the painful task which she had innocentlyimposed on me, if I had attempted to perform it, I hardly like to think.To my infinite relief, I was interrupted at my first word by the openingof the door, and the sudden appearance of a family deputation in theroom.

  First, strutting with slow and solemn steps, with one hand laidpathetically on the breast of his clerical waistcoat, appeared ReverendFinch. After him, came his wife, shorn of all her properaccompaniments--except the baby. Without her novel, without her jacket,petticoat, or shawl, without even the handkerchief which she was alwayslosing--clothed, for the first time in my experience, in a completegown--the metamorphosis of damp Mrs. Finch was complete. But for thebaby, I believe I should have taken her, in the dim light, for astranger! She stood (apparently doubtful of her reception) hesitating inthe doorway, and so hiding a third member of the deputation--who appealedpiteously to the general notice in a small voice which I knew well, andin a form of address familiar to me from past experience.

  "Jicks wants to come in."

  The rector took his hand from his waistcoat, and held it up in faintprotest against the intrusion of the third member. Mrs. Finch movedmechanically into the room. Jicks appeared, hugging her disreputabledoll, and showing signs of recent wandering in the white dust whichdropped on the carpet from her frock and her shoes, as she advancedtowards the place in which I was sitting. Arrived in front of me, shepeered quaintly up at my face, through the obscurity of the room; liftedher doll by the legs; hit me a smart rap with the head of it on my knee;and said--

  "Jicks will sit here."

  I rubbed my knee, and enthroned Jicks as ordered. At the same time Mr.Finch solemnly stalked up to his daughter; laid his hands on her head;raised his eyes to the ceiling; and said in bass notes that rumbled withpaternal emotion, "Bless you, my child!"

  At the sound of her husband's magnificent voice, Mrs. Finch becameherself again. She said meekly, "How d'ye do, Lucilla?"--and sat down ina corner, and suckled the baby.

  Mr. Finch set in for one of his harangues.

  "My advice has been neglected, Lucilla. My paternal influence has beenrepudiated. My Moral Weight has been, so to speak, set aside. I don'tcomplain. Understand me--_I_ simply state sad facts." (Here he becameaware of my existence.) "Good morning, Madame Pratolungo; I hope I seeyou well?--There has been variance between us, Lucilla. I come, my child,with healing on my wings (healing being understood, for present purposes,as reconciliation)--I come, and bring Mrs. Finch with me--don't speak,Mrs. Finch!--to offer my heartfelt wishes, my fervent prayers, on thisthe most eventful day in my daughter's life. No vulgar curiosity hasturned my steps this way. No hint shall escape my lips, touching anymisgivings which I may still feel as to this purely worldly interferencewith the ways of an inscrutable Providence. I am here as parent andpeacemaker. My wife accompanies me--don't speak, Mrs. Finch!--asstep-parent and step-peacemaker. (You understand the distinction, MadamePratolungo? Thank you. Good creature.) Shall I preach forgiveness ofinjuries from the pulpit, and not practice that forgiveness at home? CanI remain, on this momentous occasion, at variance with my child? Lucilla!I forgive you. With full heart and tearful eyes, I forgive you. (You havenever had any children, I believe, Madame Pratolungo? Ah! you cannotpossibly understand this. Not your fault. Good creature. Not your fault.)The kiss of peace, my child; the kiss of peace." He solemnly bent hisbristly head, and deposited the kiss of peace on Lucilla's forehead. Hesighed superbly, and in a burst of magnanimity, held out his hand next tome. "My Hand, Madame Pratolungo. Compose yourself. Don't cry. God blessyou. Mrs. Finch, deeply affected by her husband's noble conduct, began tosob hysterically. The baby, disarranged in his proceedings by theemotions of his mama, set up a sympathetic scream. Mr. Finch crossed theroom to them, with domestic healing on his wings. "This does you credit,Mrs. Finch; but, under the circumstances, it must not be continued.Control yourself, in consideration of the infant. Mysterious mechanism ofNature!" cried the rector, raising his prodigious voice over the louderand louder screeching of the baby. "Marvelous and beautiful sympathywhich makes the maternal sustenance the conducting medium, as it were, ofdisturbance between the mother and child. What problems confront us, whatforces environ us, even in this mortal life! Nature! Maternity!Inscrutable Providence!"

  "Inscrutable Providence" was the rector's fatal phrase--it always broughtwith it an interruption; and it brought one now. Before Mr. Finch(brimful of pathetic apostrophes) could burst into more exclamations, thedoor opened, and Oscar walked into the room.

  Lucilla instantly recognized his footstep.

  "Any signs, Oscar, of Herr Grosse?" she asked.

  "Yes. His chaise has been seen on the road. He will be here directly."

  Giving that answer, and passing by my chair to place himself on the otherside of Lucilla, Oscar cast at me one imploring look--a look which saidplainly, "Don't desert me when the time comes!" I nodded my head to showthat I understood him and felt for him. He sat down in the vacant chairby Lucilla, and took her hand in silence. It was hard to say which of thetwo felt the position, at that trying moment, most painfully. I don'tthink I ever saw any sight so simply and irresistibly touching as thesight of those two poor young creatures sitting hand in hand, waiting theevent which was to make the happiness or the misery of their futurelives.

  "Have you seen anything of your brother?" I asked, putting the questionin as careless a tone as my devouring anxiety would allow me to assume.

  "Nugent has gone to meet Herr Grosse."

  Oscar's eyes once more encountered mine, as he replied in those terms; Isaw again the imploring look more marked in them than ever. It was plainto him, as it was plain to me, that Nugent had gone to meet the German,with the purpose of making Herr Grosse the innocent means of bringing himinto the house.

  Before I could speak again, Mr. Finch, recovering himself after theinterruption which had silenced him, saw his opportunity of setting infor another harangue. Mrs. Finch had left off sobbing; the baby had leftoff screaming; the rest of us were silent and nervous. In a word, Mr.Finch's domestic congregation was entirely at Mr. Finch's mercy. Hestrutted up to Oscar's chair. Was he going to propose to read _Hamlet?_No! He was going to invoke a blessing on Oscar's head.

  "On this interesting occasion," began the rector in his pulpit tones;"now that we are all united in the same room, all animated by the samehope--I could wish, as pastor and parent (God bless you, Oscar: I look onyou as a son. Mrs. Finch, follow my example, look on him as a son!)--Icould wish, as pastor and parent, to say a few pious and consolingwords----"

  The door--the friendly, admirable, judicious door--stopped the comingsermon, in the nick of time, by opening again. Herr Grosse's squat figureand owlish spectacles appeared on the threshold. And behind him (exactlyas I had anticipat
ed) stood Nugent Dubourg.

  Lucilla turned deadly pale: she had heard the door open, she knew byinstinct that the surgeon had come. Oscar got up, stole behind my chair,and whispered to me, "For God's sake, get Nugent out of the room!" I gavehim a reassuring squeeze of the hand, and, putting Jicks down on thefloor, rose to welcome our good Grosse.

  The child, as it happened, was beforehand with me. She and theillustrious oculist had met in the garden at one of the German'sprofessional visits to Lucilla, and had taken an amazing fancy to eachother. Herr Grosse never afterwards appeared at the rectory without someunwholesome eatable thing in his pocket for Jicks; who gave him in returnas many kisses as he might ask for, and further distinguished him as theonly living creature whom she permitted to nurse the disreputable doll.Grasping this same doll now, with both hands, and using it head-foremost,as a kind of battering-ram, Jicks plunged in front of me, and butted withall her might at the surgeon's bandy legs; insisting on a monopoly of hisattention before he presumed to speak to any other person in the room.While he was lifting her to a level with his face, and talking to her inhis wonderful broken English--while the rector and Mrs. Finch were makingthe necessary apologies for the child's conduct--Nugent came round frombehind Herr Grosse, and drew me mysteriously into a corner of the room.As I followed him, I saw the silent torture of anxiety expressed inOscar's face as he stood by Lucilla's chair. It did me good; it strung upmy resolution to the right pitch; it made me feel myself a match, andmore than a match, for Nugent Dubourg.

  "I am afraid I behaved in a very odd manner, when we met in the village?"he said. "The fact is, I am not at all well. I have been in a strangefeverish state lately. I don't think the air of this place suits me."There he stopped; keeping his eyes steadily fixed on mine, trying to readmy mind in my face.

  "I am not surprised to hear you say that," I answered. "I have noticedthat you have not been looking well lately."

  My tone and manner (otherwise perfectly composed) expressed politesympathy--and nothing more. I saw I puzzled him. He tried again.

  "I hope I didn't say or do anything rude?" he went on.

  "Oh, no!"

  "I was excited--painfully excited. You are too kind to admit it; I amsure I owe you my apologies?"

  "No, indeed! you were certainly excited, as you say. But we are all inthe same state to-day. The occasion, Mr. Nugent, is your sufficientapology."

  Not the slightest sign in my face of any sort of suspicion of himrewarded the close and continued scrutiny with which he regarded me. Isaw in his perplexed expression, the certain assurance that I was beatinghim at his own weapons. He made a last effort to entrap me into revealingthat I suspected his secret--he attempted, by irritating my quick temper,to take me by surprise.

  "You are no doubt astonished at seeing me here," he resumed. "I have notforgotten that I promised to remain at Browndown instead of coming to therectory. Don't be angry with me: I am under medical orders which forbidme to keep my promise."

  "I don't understand you," I said just as coolly as ever.

  "I will explain myself," he rejoined. "You remember that we long sincetook Grosse into our confidence, on the subject of Oscar's positiontowards Lucilla?"

  "I am not likely to have forgotten it," I answered, "considering that itwas I who first warned your brother that Herr Grosse might do terriblemischief by innocently letting out the truth."

  "Do you recollect how Grosse took the warning when we gave it to him?"

  "Perfectly. He promised to be careful. But, at the same time, he grufflyforbade us to involve him in any more of our family troubles. He said hewas determined to preserve his professional freedom of action, withoutbeing hampered by domestic difficulties which might concern _us,_ butwhich did not concern _him._ Is my memory accurate enough to satisfyyou?"

  "Your memory is wonderful. You will now understand me when I tell youthat Grosse asserts his professional freedom of action on this occasion.I had it from his own lips on our way here. He considers it veryimportant that Lucilla should not be frightened at the moment when shetries her sight. Oscar's face is sure to startle her, if it is the firstface she sees. Grosse has accordingly requested me to be present (as theonly other young man in the room), and to place myself so that I shall bethe first person who attracts her notice. Ask him yourself, MadamePratolungo, if you don't believe me."

  "Of course I believe you!" I answered. "It is useless to dispute thesurgeon's orders at such a time as this."

  With that, I left him; showing just as much annoyance as an unsuspectingwoman, in my position, might have naturally betrayed--and no more.Knowing, as I did, what was going on under the surface, I understood onlytoo plainly what had happened. Nugent had caught at the opportunity whichthe surgeon had innocently offered to him, as a means of misleadingLucilla at the moment, and (possibly) of taking some base advantage ofher afterwards. I trembled inwardly with rage and fear, as I turned myback on him. Our one chance was to make sure of his absence, at thecritical moment--and, cudgel my brains as I might, how to reach that endsuccessfully was more than I could see.

  When I returned to the other persons in the room, Oscar and Lucilla werestill occupying the same positions. Mr. Finch had presented himself (atfull length) to Herr Grosse. And Jicks was established on a stool in acorner: devouring a rampant horse, carved in bilious-yellow Germangingerbread, with a voracious relish wonderful and terrible to see.

  "Ah, my goot Madame Pratolungo!" said Herr Grosse, stopping on his way toLucilla to shake hands with me. "Have you made anodder lofely Mayonnaise?I have come on purpose with an empty-stomachs, and a wolf's-appetite infine order. Look at that little Imps," he went on, pointing to Jicks."Ach Gott! I believe I am in lofe with her. I have sent all the ways toGermany for gingerbreads for Jick. Aha, you Jick! does it stick in yourtooths? Is it nice-clammy-sweet?" He glared benevolently at the childthrough his spectacles; and tucked my hand sentimentally into the breastof his waistcoat. "Promise me a child like adorable Jick," he saidsolemnly, "I will marry the first wife you bring me--nice womans, nastywomans, I don't care which. Soh! there is my domestic sentiments laidbare before you. Enough of that. Now for my pretty-Feench!Come-begin-begin!"

  He crossed the room to Lucilla, and called to Nugent to follow him.

  "Open the shutters," he said. "Light-light-light, and plenty of him, formy lofely Feench!"

  Nugent opened the shutters, beginning with the lower window, and endingwith the window at which Lucilla was sitting. Acting on this plan, he hadonly to wait where he was, to place himself close by her--to be the firstobject she saw. He did it. The villain did it. I stepped forward,determined to interfere--and stopped, not knowing what to say or do. Icould have beaten my own stupid brains out against the wall. There stoodNugent right before her, as the surgeon turned his patient towards thewindow. And not the ghost of an idea came to me!

  The German stretched out his hairy hands, and took hold of the knot ofthe bandage to undo it.

  Lucilla trembled from head to foot.

  Herr Grosse hesitated--looked at her--let go of the bandage-and liftingone of her hands, laid his fingers on her pulse.

  In the moment of silence that followed, I had one of my inspirations. Themissing idea turned up in my brains at last.

  "Soh!" cried Grosse, dropping her hand with a sudden outbreak ofannoyance and surprise. "Who has been frightening my pretty Feench? Whythese cold trembles? these sinking pulses? Some of you tell me--what doesit mean?"

  Here was my opportunity! I tried my idea on the spot.

  "It means," I said, "that there are too many people in this room. Weconfuse her, and frighten her. Take her into her bedroom, Herr Grosse;and only let the rest of us in, when you think right--one at a time."

  Our excellent surgeon instantly seized on my idea, and made it his own.

  "You are a phenix among womens," he said, paternally patting me on theshoulder. "Which is most perfectest, your advice or your Mayonnaise, I amat a loss to know." He turned to Lucilla, and raised her gently from h
erchair. "Come into your own rooms with me, my poor little Feench. I shallsee if I dare take off your bandages to-day."

  Lucilla clasped her hands entreatingly.

  "You promised!" she said. "Oh, Herr Grosse, you promised to let me use myeyes to-day!"

  "Answer me this!" retorted the German. "Did I know, when I promised, thatI should find you all shaky-pale, as white as my shirts when he comesback from the wash?"

  "I am quite myself again," she pleaded faintly. "I am quite fit to havethe bandage taken off."

  "What! you know better than I do? Which of us is surgeon-optic--you orme? No more of this. Come under my arms! Come into the odder rooms!"

  He put her arm in his, and walked with her to the door. There, hervariable humour suddenly changed. She rallied on the instant. Her faceflushed; her courage came back. To my horror, she snatched her arm awayfrom the surgeon, and refused to leave the room.

  "No!" she said. "I am quite composed again; I claim your promise. Examineme here. I must and will have my first look at Oscar in this room."

  (I was afraid--literally afraid--to turn my eyes Oscar's way. I glancedat Nugent instead. There was a devilish smile on his face that it nearlydrove me mad to see.)

  "You must and weel?" repeated Grosse. "Now, mind!" He took out his watch."I give you one little minutes, to think in. If you don't come with me inthat time, you shall find it is I who must and weel. Now!"

  "Why do you object to go into your room?" I asked.

  "Because I want everybody to see me," she answered. "How many of you arethere here?"

  "There are five of us. Mr. and Mrs. Finch; Mr. Nugent Dubourg; Oscar, andmyself."

  "I wish there were five hundred of you, instead of five?" she burst out.

  "Why?"

  "Because you would see me pick out Oscar from all the rest, the instantthe bandage was off my eyes!"

  Still holding to her own fatal conviction that the image in her mind ofOscar was the right one! For the second time, though I felt the longingin me to look at him, I shrank from doing it.

  Herr Grosse put his watch back in his pocket.

  "The minutes is passed," he said. "Will you come into the odder rooms?Will you understand that I cannot properly examine you before all thesepeoples? Say, my lofely Feench--Yes? or No?"

  "No!" she cried obstinately, with a childish stamp of her foot. "I insiston showing everybody that I can pick out Oscar, the moment I open myeyes."

  Herr Grosse buttoned his coat, settled his owlish spectacles firmly onhis nose, and took up his hat. "Goot morning," he said. "I have nothingmore to do with you or your eyes. Cure yourself, youlittle-spitfire-Feench. I am going back to London."

  He opened the door. Even Lucilla was obliged to yield, when the surgeonin attendance on her threatened to throw up the case.

  "You brute!" she said indignantly--and took his arm again.

  Grosse indulged himself in his diabolical grin. "Wait till you are ableto use your eyes, my lofe. Then you will see what a brutes I am!" Withthose words he took her out.

  We were left in the sitting-room, to wait until the surgeon had decidedwhether he would, or would not, let Lucilla try her sight on that day.

  While the others were, in their various ways, all suffering the sameuneasy sense of expectation, I was as quiet in my mind as the baby nowsleeping in his mother's arms. Thanks to Grosse's resolution to act onthe hint that I had given to him, I had now made it impossible--even ifthe bandage was removed on that day--for Nugent to catch Lucilla's firstlook when she opened her eyes. Her betrothed husband might certainly, onsuch a special occasion as this, be admitted into her bed-chamber, incompany with her father or with me. But the commonest sense of proprietywould dictate the closing of the door on Nugent. In the sitting-room hemust wait (if he still persisted in remaining at the rectory) until shewas allowed to join him there. I privately resolved, having the controlof the matter in my own hands, that this should not happen until Lucillaknew which of the twins was Nugent, and which was Oscar. A deliciousinward glow of triumph diffused itself all through me. I resisted thestrong temptation that I felt to discover how Nugent bore his defeat. IfI had yielded to it, he would have seen in my face that I gloried inhaving outwitted him. I sat down, the picture of innocence, in thenearest chair, and crossed my hands on my lap, a composed and ladylikeperson, edifying to see.

  The slow minutes followed each other--and still we waited the event insilence. Even Mr. Finch's tongue was, on this solitary occasion, a tongueincapable of pronouncing a single word. He sat by his wife at one end ofthe room. Oscar and I were at the other. Nugent stood by himself at oneof the windows, deep in his own thoughts, plotting how he could pay meout.

  Oscar was the first of the party who broke the silence. After looking allround the room, he suddenly addressed himself to me.

  "Madame Pratolungo!" he exclaimed. "What has become of Jicks?"

  I had completely forgotten the child. I too looked round the room, andsatisfied myself that she had really disappeared. Mrs. Finch, observingour astonishment, timidly enlightened us. The maternal eye had seen Jicksslip out cunningly at Herr Grosse's heels. The child's object was plainenough. While there was any probability of the presence of moregingerbread in the surgeon's pocket, the wandering Arab of the family (asstealthy and as quick as a cat) was certain to keep within reach of herfriend. Nobody who knew her could doubt that she had stolen intoLucilla's bed-chamber, under cover of Herr Grosse's ample coat-tails.

  We had just accounted in this way for the mysterious absence of Jicks,when we heard the bed-chamber door opened, and the surgeon's voicecalling for Zillah. In a minute more the nurse appeared, the bearer of amessage from the next room.

  We all surrounded her, with one and the same question to ask. What hadHerr Grosse decided to do? The answer informed us that he had decided onforbidding Lucilla to try her eyes that day.

  "Is she very much disappointed?" Oscar inquired anxiously.

  "I can hardly say, sir. She isn't like herself. I never knew Miss Lucillaso quiet when she was crossed in her wishes, before. When the doctorcalled me into the room, she said: 'Go in, Zillah, and tell them.' Thosewords, sir, and no more."

  "Did she express no wish to see me?" I inquired.

  "No, ma'am. I took the liberty of asking her if she wished to see you.Miss Lucilla shook her head, and sat herself down on the sofa, and madethe doctor sit by her. 'Leave us by ourselves.' Those were the last wordsshe said to me, before I came in here."

  Reverend Finch put the next question. The Pope of Dimchurch was himselfagain: the man of many words saw his chance of speaking once more.

  "Good woman," said the rector with ponderous politeness, "step this way.I wish to address an inquiry to you. Did Miss Finch make any remark, inyour hearing, indicating a desire to be comforted by My Ministrations--asone bearing the double relation towards her of pastor and parent?"

  "I didn't hear Miss Lucilla say anything to that effect, sir."

  Mr. Finch waved his hand with a look of disgust, intimating that Zillah'saudience was over. Nugent, upon that, came forward, and stopped her asshe was leaving the room.

  "Have you nothing more to tell us?" he asked.

  "No, sir."

  "Why don't they come back here? What are they doing in the other room?"

  "They were doing what I mentioned just now, sir--they were sitting sideby side on the sofa. Miss Lucilla was talking, and the doctor waslistening to her. And Jicks," added Zillah, addressing herselfconfidentially to me, "was behind them, picking the doctor's pocket."

  Oscar put in a word there--by no means in his most gracious manner.

  "What was Miss Lucilla saying to the doctor?"

  "I don't know, sir."

  "You don't know?"

  "I couldn't hear, sir. Miss Lucilla was speaking to him in a whisper."

  After that, there was no more to be said. Zillah--disturbed over herdomestic occupations and eager to get back to her kitchen--seized thefirst chance of leaving the room; going out in such
a hurry that sheforgot to close the door after her. We all looked at each other. To whatconclusion did the nurse's strange answers point? It was plainlyimpossible for Oscar (no matter how quick his temper might be) to feeljealous of a man of Grosse's age and personal appearance. Still, theprolonged interview between patient and surgeon--after the decision hadbeen pronounced and the trial of the eyes definitely deferred to a futureday--had a strange appearance, to say the least of it.

  Nugent returned to his place at the window--puzzled, suspicious, deep inhis own thoughts. Reverend Finch, swelling with unspoken words, roseportentously from his chair by his wife's side. Had he discovered anotherchance of inflicting his eloquence on us? It was only too evident that hehad! He looked at us with his ominous smile. He addressed us in hisbiggest voice.

  "My Christian friends----"

  Nugent, unassailable by eloquence, persisted in looking out of thewindow. Oscar, insensible to every earthly consideration except the oneconsideration of Lucilla, drew me aside unceremoniously out of therector's hearing. Mr. Finch resumed.

  "My Christian friends, I could wish to say a few appropriate words."

  "Go to Lucilla!" whispered Oscar, taking me entreatingly by both hands."_You_ needn't stand on ceremony with her. Do, do see what is going on inthe next room!"

  Mr. Finch resumed.

  "The occasion seems to call upon one in my position for a littlesustaining advice on Christian duty--I would say, the duty of beingcheerful under disappointment."

  Oscar persisted.

  "Do me the greatest of all favors! Pray find out what is keeping Lucillawith that man!"

  Mr. Finch cleared his throat, and lifted his right hand persuasively byway of introduction to his next sentence.

  I answered Oscar in a whisper.

  "I don't like intruding on them. Lucilla told the nurse they were to beleft by themselves."

  Just as I said the words, I became aware of a sudden bump against me frombehind. I turned, and discovered Jicks with the battering-ram-doll,preparing for a second plunge at me. She stopped, when she found that shehad attracted my attention; and, taking hold of my dress, tried to pullme out of the room.

  "Remove that child!" cried the rector, exasperated by this newinterruption.

  The child pulled harder and harder at my dress. Something had apparentlyhappened outside the sitting-room which had produced a strong impressionon her. Her little round face was flushed; her bright blue eyes were wideopen and staring. "Jicks wants to speak to you," she said--and pulled atme impatiently harder than ever.

  I stooped down with the double purpose of obeying Mr. Finch's commandsand of humouring the child's whim, by carrying Jicks out of the room,when I was startled by a sound from the bed-chamber--the sound, loud andperemptory, of Lucilla's voice.

  "Let go of me!" she cried. "I am a woman--I won't be treated like achild."

  There was a moment of silence--followed by the rustling sound of herdress, approaching us along the corridor.

  Grosse's voice--unmistakably angry and excited--became audible at thesame time. "No! Come back! come back!"

  The rustling sound of the dress came nearer.

  Nugent and Mr. Finch moved together closer to the door. Oscar caught meby the arm. He and I were on the left-hand side of the door: Nugent andthe rector were on the right-hand side. It all happened with thesuddenness of a flash of lightning. My heart stood still. I couldn'tspeak. I couldn't move.

  The half-closed door of the sitting-room was burst wide open--roughly,violently, as if a man, not a woman, had been on the other side. (Therector drew back; Nugent remained where he was.) Wildly groping her waywith outstretched arms, as I had never seen her grope it in the time ofher blindness, Lucilla staggered into the room. Merciful God! the bandagewas off. The life, the new life of sight, was in her eyes. Ittransfigured her face: it irradiated her beauty with an awful andunearthly light. She saw! she saw!

  For an instant she stopped at the door, swaying to and fro; giddy underthe broad stare of daylight.

  She looked at the rector--then at Mrs. Finch, who had followed herhusband. She paused bewildered, and put her hands over her eyes. Sheslightly changed her position; turned her head, as if to look at me;turned it back sharply towards the right-hand side of the door again; andthrew up her arms in the air, with a burst of hysterical laughter. Thelaughter ended in a scream of triumph, which rang through the house. Sherushed at Nugent Dubourg, so blindly incapable of measuring her distancethat she struck against him violently, and nearly threw him down. "I knowhim! I know him!" she cried--and flung her arms round his neck. "Oh,Oscar! Oscar!" She clasped him to her with all her strength as the namepassed her lips, and dropped her head on his bosom in an ecstasy of joy.

  It was done before any of us had recovered the use of our senses. Thewhole horrible scene must have begun and ended in less than half a minuteof time. The surgeon, who had run into the room after her, empty-handed,turned suddenly, and left it again; coming back with the bandage, leftforgotten in the bed-room. Grosse was the first among us to recover hispresence of mind. He approached her in silence.

  She heard him, before he could take her by surprise, and slip the bandageover her eyes. The moment when I turned, horror-struck, to look at Oscar,was also the moment when she lifted her head from Nugent's bosom to lookfor the surgeon. Her eyes followed the direction taken by mine. Theyencountered Oscar's face. She saw the blue-black hue of it in full light.

  A cry of terror escaped her: she started back, shuddering, and caughthold of Nugent's arm. Grosse motioned sternly to him to turn her facefrom the window; and lifted the bandage. She clutched at it with feverisheagerness as he held it up. "Put it on again!" she said, holding byNugent with one hand, and lifting the other to point towards Oscar with agesture of disgust. "Put it on again. I have seen too much already."

  Grosse fastened the bandage over her eyes, and waited a little. She stillheld Nugent's arm. The sting of my indignation as I saw it, roused meinto doing something. I stepped forward to part them. Grosse stopped me."No!" he said. "Don't make bad worse." I looked at Oscar for the secondtime. There he stood, as he had stood from the first moment when sheappeared at the door--his eyes staring wildly straight before him; hislimbs set and fixed. I went to him, and touched him. He seemed not tofeel it. I spoke to him. I might as well have spoken to a man of stone.

  Grosse's voice drew my attention, for a moment, the other way.

  "Come!" he said, trying to take Lucilla back into her own room.

  She shook her head, and tightened her hold on Nugent's arm.

  "_You_ take me," she whispered. "As far as the door."

  I again attempted to stop it; and again the German put me back.

  "Not to-day!" he said sternly. With that, he made a sign to Nugent, andplaced himself on Lucilla's other side. In silence, the two men led herout of the room. The door closed on them. It was over.