Chapter XIII

  Awaking From the Trance

  The first unexpected words may always startle a hearer; but when theshock is over, the listener's reason has asserted itself, and he canjudge of the manner, as well as of the matter, of speech. Thus it wason this occasion. With intelligence now alert, I could not doubt ofthe simple sincerity of Margaret's next question.

  "What have you two men been talking about all this time, Mr. Ross? Isuppose, Mr. Corbeck has been telling you all his adventures in findingthe lamps. I hope you will tell me too, some day, Mr. Corbeck; butthat must not be till my poor Father is better. He would like, I amsure, to tell me all about these things himself; or to be present whenI heard them." She glanced sharply from one to the other. "Oh, thatwas what you were saying as I came in? All right! I shall wait; but Ihope it won't be long. The continuance of Father's condition is, Ifeel, breaking me down. A little while ago I felt that my nerves weregiving out; so I determined to go out for a walk in the Park. I amsure it will do me good. I want you, if you will, Mr. Ross, to be withFather whilst I am away. I shall feel secure then."

  I rose with alacrity, rejoicing that the poor girl was going out, evenfor half an hour. She was looking terribly wearied and haggard; and thesight of her pale cheeks made my heart ache. I went to the sick-room;and sat down in my usual place. Mrs. Grant was then on duty; we hadnot found it necessary to have more than one person in the room duringthe day. When I came in, she took occasion to go about some householdduty. The blinds were up, but the north aspect of the room softened thehot glare of the sunlight without.

  I sat for a long time thinking over all that Mr. Corbeck had told me;and weaving its wonders into the tissue of strange things which hadcome to pass since I had entered the house. At times I was inclined todoubt; to doubt everything and every one; to doubt even the evidencesof my own five senses. The warnings of the skilled detective keptcoming back to my mind. He had put down Mr. Corbeck as a clever liar,and a confederate of Miss Trelawny. Of Margaret! That settled it!Face to face with such a proposition as that, doubt vanished. Eachtime when her image, her name, the merest thought of her, came beforemy mind, each event stood out stark as a living fact. My life upon herfaith!

  I was recalled from my reverie, which was fast becoming a dream oflove, in a startling manner. A voice came from the bed; a deep,strong, masterful voice. The first note of it called up like a clarionmy eyes and my ears. The sick man was awake and speaking!

  "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

  Whatever ideas any of us had ever formed of his waking, I am quite surethat none of us expected to see him start up all awake and full masterof himself. I was so surprised that I answered almost mechanically:

  "Ross is my name. I have been watching by you!" He looked surprisedfor an instant, and then I could see that his habit of judging forhimself came into play.

  "Watching by me! How do you mean? Why watching by me?" His eye hadnow lit on his heavily bandaged wrist. He went on in a different tone;less aggressive, more genial, as of one accepting facts:

  "Are you a doctor?" I felt myself almost smiling as I answered; therelief from the long pressure of anxiety regarding his life wasbeginning to tell:

  "No, sir!"

  "Then why are you here? If you are not a doctor, what are you?" Histone was again more dictatorial. Thought is quick; the whole train ofreasoning on which my answer must be based flooded through my brainbefore the words could leave my lips. Margaret! I must think ofMargaret! This was her father, who as yet knew nothing of me; even ofmy very existence. He would be naturally curious, if not anxious, toknow why I amongst men had been chosen as his daughter's friend on theoccasion of his illness. Fathers are naturally a little jealous insuch matters as a daughter's choice, and in the undeclared state of mylove for Margaret I must do nothing which could ultimately embarrassher.

  "I am a Barrister. It is not, however, in that capacity I am here; butsimply as a friend of your daughter. It was probably her knowledge ofmy being a lawyer which first determined her to ask me to come when shethought you had been murdered. Afterwards she was good enough toconsider me to be a friend, and to allow me to remain in accordancewith your expressed wish that someone should remain to watch."

  Mr. Trelawny was manifestly a man of quick thought, and of few words.He gazed at me keenly as I spoke, and his piercing eyes seemed to readmy thought. To my relief he said no more on the subject just then,seeming to accept my words in simple faith. There was evidently in hisown mind some cause for the acceptance deeper than my own knowledge.His eyes flashed, and there was an unconscious movement of themouth--it could hardly be called a twitch--which betokenedsatisfaction. He was following out some train of reasoning in his ownmind. Suddenly he said:

  "She thought I had been murdered! Was that last night?"

  "No! four days ago." He seemed surprised. Whilst he had been speakingthe first time he had sat up in bed; now he made a movement as thoughhe would jump out. With an effort, however, he restrained himself;leaning back on his pillows he said quietly:

  "Tell me all about it! All you know! Every detail! Omit nothing!But stay; first lock the door! I want to know, before I see anyone,exactly how things stand."

  Somehow his last words made my heart leap. "Anyone!" He evidentlyaccepted me, then, as an exception. In my present state of feeling forhis daughter, this was a comforting thought. I felt exultant as I wentover to the door and softly turned the key. When I came back I foundhim sitting up again. He said:

  "Go on!"

  Accordingly, I told him every detail, even of the slightest which Icould remember, of what had happened from the moment of my arrival atthe house. Of course I said nothing of my feeling towards Margaret,and spoke only concerning those things already within his ownknowledge. With regard to Corbeck, I simply said that he had broughtback some lamps of which he had been in quest. Then I proceeded totell him fully of their loss, and of their re-discovery in the house.

  He listened with a self-control which, under the circumstances, was tome little less than marvellous. It was impassiveness, for at times hiseyes would flash or blaze, and the strong fingers of his uninjured handwould grip the sheet, pulling it into far-extending wrinkles. This wasmost noticeable when I told him of the return of Corbeck, and thefinding of the lamps in the boudoir. At times he spoke, but only a fewwords, and as if unconsciously in emotional comment. The mysteriousparts, those which had most puzzled us, seemed to have no specialinterest for him; he seemed to know them already. The utmost concernhe showed was when I told him of Daw's shooting. His muttered comment:"stupid ass!" together with a quick glance across the room at theinjured cabinet, marked the measure of his disgust. As I told him ofhis daughter's harrowing anxiety for him, of her unending care anddevotion, of the tender love which she had shown, he seemed much moved.There was a sort of veiled surprise in his unconscious whisper:

  "Margaret! Margaret!"

  When I had finished my narration, bringing matters up to the momentwhen Miss Trelawny had gone out for her walk--I thought of her as "MissTrelawny', not as 'Margaret' now, in the presence of her father--heremained silent for quite a long time. It was probably two or threeminutes; but it seemed interminable. All at once he turned and said tome briskly:

  "Now tell me all about yourself!" This was something of a floorer; Ifelt myself grow red-hot. Mr. Trelawny's eyes were upon me; they werenow calm and inquiring, but never ceasing in their soul-searchingscrutiny. There was just a suspicion of a smile on the mouth which,though it added to my embarrassment, gave me a certain measure ofrelief. I was, however, face to face with difficulty; and the habit ofmy life stood me in good stead. I looked him straight in the eyes as Ispoke:

  "My name, as I told you, is Ross, Malcolm Ross. I am by profession aBarrister. I was made a Q. C. in the last year of the Queen's reign.I have been fairly successful in my work." To my relief he said:

  "Yes, I know. I have always heard wel
l of you! Where and when did youmeet Margaret?"

  "First at the Hay's in Belgrave Square, ten days ago. Then at a picnicup the river with Lady Strathconnell. We went from Windsor to Cookham.Mar--Miss Trelawny was in my boat. I scull a little, and I had my ownboat at Windsor. We had a good deal of conversation--naturally."

  "Naturally!" there was just a suspicion of something sardonic in thetone of acquiescence; but there was no other intimation of his feeling.I began to think that as I was in the presence of a strong man, Ishould show something of my own strength. My friends, and sometimes myopponents, say that I am a strong man. In my present circumstances,not to be absolutely truthful would be to be weak. So I stood up tothe difficulty before me; always bearing in mind, however, that mywords might affect Margaret's happiness through her love for herfather. I went on:

  "In conversation at a place and time and amid surroundings so pleasing,and in a solitude inviting to confidence, I got a glimpse of her innerlife. Such a glimpse as a man of my years and experience may get froma young girl!" The father's face grew graver as I went on; but he saidnothing. I was committed now to a definite line of speech, and went onwith such mastery of my mind as I could exercise. The occasion mightbe fraught with serious consequences to me too.

  "I could not but see that there was over her spirit a sense ofloneliness which was habitual to her. I thought I understood it; I ammyself an only child. I ventured to encourage her to speak to mefreely; and was happy enough to succeed. A sort of confidence becameestablished between us." There was something in the father's facewhich made me add hurriedly:

  "Nothing was said by her, sir, as you can well imagine, which was notright and proper. She only told me in the impulsive way of one longingto give voice to thoughts long carefully concealed, of her yearning tobe closer to the father whom she loved; more en rapport with him; morein his confidence; closer within the circle of his sympathies. Oh,believe me, sir, that it was all good! All that a father's heart couldhope or wish for! It was all loyal! That she spoke it to me wasperhaps because I was almost a stranger with whom there was no previousbarrier to confidence."

  Here I paused. It was hard to go on; and I feared lest I might, in myzeal, do Margaret a disservice. The relief of the strain came from herfather.

  "And you?"

  "Sir, Miss Trelawny is very sweet and beautiful! She is young; and hermind is like crystal! Her sympathy is a joy! I am not an old man, andmy affections were not engaged. They never had been till then. I hopeI may say as much, even to a father!" My eyes involuntarily dropped.When I raised them again Mr. Trelawny was still gazing at me keenly.All the kindliness of his nature seemed to wreath itself in a smile ashe held out his hand and said:

  "Malcolm Ross, I have always heard of you as a fearless and honourablegentleman. I am glad my girl has such a friend! Go on!"

  My heart leaped. The first step to the winning of Margaret's fatherwas gained. I dare say I was somewhat more effusive in my words and mymanner as I went on. I certainly felt that way.

  "One thing we gain as we grow older: to use our age judiciously! Ihave had much experience. I have fought for it and worked for it allmy life; and I felt that I was justified in using it. I ventured toask Miss Trelawny to count on me as a friend; to let me serve hershould occasion arise. She promised me that she would. I had littleidea that my chance of serving her should come so soon or in such away; but that very night you were stricken down. In her desolation andanxiety she sent for me!" I paused. He continued to look at me as Iwent on:

  "When your letter of instructions was found, I offered my services.They were accepted, as you know."

  "And these days, how did they pass for you?" The question startled me.There was in it something of Margaret's own voice and manner; somethingso greatly resembling her lighter moments that it brought out all themasculinity in me. I felt more sure of my ground now as I said:

  "These days, sir, despite all their harrowing anxiety, despite all thepain they held for the girl whom I grew to love more and more with eachpassing hour, have been the happiest of my life!" He kept silence fora long time; so long that, as I waited for him to speak, with my heartbeating, I began to wonder if my frankness had been too effusive. Atlast he said:

  "I suppose it is hard to say so much vicariously. Her poor mothershould have heard you; it would have made her heart glad!" Then ashadow swept across his face; and he went on more hurriedly.

  "But are you quite sure of all this?"

  "I know my own heart, sir; or, at least, I think I do!"

  "No! no!" he answered, "I don't mean you. That is all right! But youspoke of my girl's affection for me ... and yet...! And yet she hasbeen living here, in my house, a whole year... Still, she spoke to youof her loneliness--her desolation. I never--it grieves me to say it,but it is true--I never saw sign of such affection towards myself inall the year!..." His voice trembled away into sad, reminiscentintrospection.

  "Then, sir," I said, "I have been privileged to see more in a few daysthan you in her whole lifetime!" My words seemed to call him up fromhimself; and I thought that it was with pleasure as well as surprisethat he said:

  "I had no idea of it. I thought that she was indifferent to me. Thatwhat seemed like the neglect of her youth was revenging itself on me.That she was cold of heart.... It is a joy unspeakable to me that hermother's daughter loves me too!" Unconsciously he sank back upon hispillow, lost in memories of the past.

  How he must have loved her mother! It was the love of her mother'schild, rather than the love of his own daughter, that appealed to him.My heart went out to him in a great wave of sympathy and kindliness. Ibegan to understand. To understand the passion of these two great,silent, reserved natures, that successfully concealed the burninghunger for the other's love! It did not surprise me when presently hemurmured to himself:

  "Margaret, my child! Tender, and thoughtful, and strong, and true, andbrave! Like her dear mother! like her dear mother!"

  And then to the very depths of my heart I rejoiced that I had spoken sofrankly.

  Presently Mr. Trelawny said:

  "Four days! The sixteenth! Then this is the twentieth of July?" Inodded affirmation; he went on:

  "So I have been lying in a trance for four days. It is not the firsttime. I was in a trance once under strange conditions for three days;and never even suspected it till I was told of the lapse of time. Ishall tell you all about it some day, if you care to hear."

  That made me thrill with pleasure. That he, Margaret's father, wouldso take me into his confidence made it possible.... The business-like,every-day alertness of his voice as he spoke next quite recalled me:

  "I had better get up now. When Margaret comes in, tell her yourselfthat I am all right. It will avoid any shock! And will you tellCorbeck that I would like to see him as soon as I can. I want to seethose lamps, and hear all about them!"

  His attitude towards me filled me with delight. There was a possiblefather-in-law aspect that would have raised me from a death-bed. I washurrying away to carry out his wishes; when, however, my hand was onthe key of the door, his voice recalled me:

  "Mr. Ross!"

  I did not like to hear him say "Mr." After he knew of my friendshipwith his daughter he had called me Malcolm Ross; and this obviousreturn to formality not only pained, but filled me with apprehension.It must be something about Margaret. I thought of her as "Margaret"and not as "Miss Trelawny", now that there was danger of losing her. Iknow now what I felt then: that I was determined to fight for herrather than lose her. I came back, unconsciously holding myself erect.Mr. Trelawny, the keen observer of men, seemed to read my thought; hisface, which was set in a new anxiety, relaxed as he said:

  "Sit down a minute; it is better that we speak now than later. We areboth men, and men of the world. All this about my daughter is very newto me, and very sudden; and I want to know exactly how and where Istand. Mind, I am making no objection; but as a father I have dutieswhic
h are grave, and may prove to be painful. I--I"--he seemedslightly at a loss how to begin, and this gave me hope--"I suppose I amto take it, from what you have said to me of your feelings towards mygirl, that it is in your mind to be a suitor for her hand, later on?"I answered at once:

  "Absolutely! Firm and fixed; it was my intention the evening after Ihad been with her on the river, to seek you, of course after a properand respectful interval, and to ask you if I might approach her on thesubject. Events forced me into closer relationship more quickly than Ihad to hope would be possible; but that first purpose has remainedfresh in my heart, and has grown in intensity, and multiplied itselfwith every hour which has passed since then." His face seemed tosoften as he looked at me; the memory of his own youth was coming backto him instinctively. After a pause he said:

  "I suppose I may take it, too, Malcolm Ross"--the return to thefamiliarity of address swept through me with a glorious thrill--"thatas yet you have not made any protestation to my daughter?"

  "Not in words, sir." The arriere pensee of my phrase struck me, not byits own humour, but through the grave, kindly smile on the father'sface. There was a pleasant sarcasm in his comment:

  "Not in words! That is dangerous! She might have doubted words, oreven disbelieved them."

  I felt myself blushing to the roots of my hair as I went on:

  "The duty of delicacy in her defenceless position; my respect for herfather--I did not know you then, sir, as yourself, but only as herfather--restrained me. But even had not these barriers existed, Ishould not have dared in the presence of such grief and anxiety to havedeclared myself. Mr. Trelawny, I assure you on my word of honour thatyour daughter and I are as yet, on her part, but friends and nothingmore!" Once again he held out his hands, and we clasped each otherwarmly. Then he said heartily:

  "I am satisfied, Malcolm Ross. Of course, I take it that until I haveseen her and have given you permission, you will not make anydeclaration to my daughter--in words," he added, with an indulgentsmile. But his face became stern again as he went on:

  "Time presses; and I have to think of some matters so urgent and sostrange that I dare not lose an hour. Otherwise I should not have beenprepared to enter, at so short a notice and to so new a friend, on thesubject of my daughter's settlement in life, and of her futurehappiness." There was a dignity and a certain proudness in his mannerwhich impressed me much.

  "I shall respect your wishes, sir!" I said as I went back and openedthe door. I heard him lock it behind me.

  When I told Mr. Corbeck that Mr. Trelawny had quite recovered, he beganto dance about like a wild man. But he suddenly stopped, and asked meto be careful not to draw any inferences, at all events at first, whenin the future speaking of the finding of the lamps, or of the firstvisits to the tomb. This was in case Mr. Trelawny should speak to meon the subject; "as, of course, he will," he added, with a sidelonglook at me which meant knowledge of the affairs of my heart. I agreedto this, feeling that it was quite right. I did not quite understandwhy; but I knew that Mr. Trelawny was a peculiar man. In no case couldone make a mistake by being reticent. Reticence is a quality which astrong man always respects.

  The manner in which the others of the house took the news of therecovery varied much. Mrs. Grant wept with emotion; then she hurriedoff to see if she could do anything personally, and to set the house inorder for "Master", as she always called him. The Nurse's face fell:she was deprived of an interesting case. But the disappointment wasonly momentary; and she rejoiced that the trouble was over. She wasready to come to the patient the moment she should be wanted; but inthe meantime she occupied herself in packing her portmanteau.

  I took Sergeant Daw into the study, so that we should be alone when Itold him the news. It surprised even his iron self-control when I toldhim the method of the waking. I was myself surprised in turn by hisfirst words:

  "And how did he explain the first attack? He was unconscious when thesecond was made."

  Up to that moment the nature of the attack, which was the cause of mycoming to the house, had never even crossed my mind, except when I hadsimply narrated the various occurrences in sequence to Mr. Trelawny.The Detective did not seem to think much of my answer:

  "Do you know, it never occurred to me to ask him!" The professionalinstinct was strong in the man, and seemed to supersede everything else.

  "That is why so few cases are ever followed out," he said, "unless ourpeople are in them. Your amateur detective neer hunts down to thedeath. As for ordinary people, the moment things begin to mend, andthe strain of suspense is off them, they drop the matter in hand. Itis like sea-sickness," he added philosophically after a pause; "themoment you touch the shore you never give it a thought, but run off tothe buffet to feed! Well, Mr. Ross, I'm glad the case is over; forover it is, so far as I am concerned. I suppose that Mr. Trelawnyknows his own business; and that now he is well again, he will take itup himself. Perhaps, however, he will not do anything. As he seemed toexpect something to happen, but did not ask for protection from thepolice in any way, I take it that he don't want them to interfere withan eye to punishment. We'll be told officially, I suppose, that it wasan accident, or sleep-walking, or something of the kind, to satisfy theconscience of our Record Department; and that will be the end. As forme, I tell you frankly, sir, that it will be the saving of me. Iverily believe I was beginning to get dotty over it all. There weretoo many mysteries, that aren't in my line, for me to be reallysatisfied as to either facts or the causes of them. Now I'll be ableto wash my hands of it, and get back to clean, wholesome, criminalwork. Of course, sir, I'll be glad to know if you ever do light on acause of any kind. And I'll be grateful if you can ever tell me howthe man was dragged out of bed when the cat bit him, and who used theknife the second time. For master Silvio could never have done it byhimself. But there! I keep thinking of it still. I must look out andkeep a check on myself, or I shall think of it when I have to keep mymind on other things!"

  When Margaret returned from her walk, I met her in the hall. She wasstill pale and sad; somehow, I had expected to see her radiant afterher walk. The moment she saw me her eyes brightened, and she looked atme keenly.

  "You have some good news for me?" she said. "Is Father better?"

  "He is! Why did you think so?"

  "I saw it in your face. I must go to him at once." She was hurryingaway when I stopped her.

  "He said he would send for you the moment he was dressed."

  "He said he would send for me!" she repeated in amazement. "Then he isawake again, and conscious? I had no idea he was so well as that! OMalcolm!"

  She sat down on the nearest chair and began to cry. I felt overcomemyself. The sight of her joy and emotion, the mention of my own namein such a way and at such a time, the rush of glorious possibilitiesall coming together, quite unmanned me. She saw my emotion, and seemedto understand. She put out her hand. I held it hard, and kissed it.Such moments as these, the opportunities of lovers, are gifts of thegods! Up to this instant, though I knew I loved her, and though Ibelieved she returned my affection, I had had only hope. Now, however,the self-surrender manifest in her willingness to let me squeeze herhand, the ardour of her pressure in return, and the glorious flush oflove in her beautiful, deep, dark eyes as she lifted them to mine, wereall the eloquences which the most impatient or exacting lover couldexpect or demand.

  No word was spoken; none was needed. Even had I not been pledged toverbal silence, words would have been poor and dull to express what wefelt. Hand in hand, like two little children, we went up the staircaseand waited on the landing, till the summons from Mr. Trelawny shouldcome.

  I whispered in her ear--it was nicer than speaking aloud and at agreater distance--how her father had awakened, and what he had said;and all that had passed between us, except when she herself had beenthe subject of conversation.

  Presently a bell rang from the room. Margaret slipped from me, andlooked back with warning finger on lip. She
went over to her father'sdoor and knocked softly.

  "Come in!" said the strong voice.

  "It is I, Father!" The voice was tremulous with love and hope.

  There was a quick step inside the room; the door was hurriedly thrownopen, and in an instant Margaret, who had sprung forward, was claspedin her father's arms. There was little speech; only a few brokenphrases.

  "Father! Dear, dear Father!"

  "My child! Margaret! My dear, dear child!"

  "O Father, Father! At last! At last!"

  Here the father and daughter went into the room together, and the doorclosed.