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| author | pgww <pgww@lists.pglaf.org> | 2025-07-28 09:22:02 -0700 |
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| committer | pgww <pgww@lists.pglaf.org> | 2025-07-28 09:22:02 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/76579-0.txt b/76579-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9576171 --- /dev/null +++ b/76579-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9014 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76579 *** + + + + + + THE + STRANGE + TRANSFIGURATION + OF + HANNAH STUBBS + + BY + FLORENCE MARRYAT + AUTHOR OF + “_Love’s Conflict_,” “_My Own Child_,” + “_My Sister the Actress_,” + _etc., etc., etc._ + + + “_There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio,_ + _Than are dreamt of in your philosophy._”--Hamlet + + + LONDON + HUTCHINSON AND CO. + 34, PATERNOSTER ROW + MDCCCXCVI. + + + + + CONTENTS + + CHAPTER I + CHAPTER II + CHAPTER III + CHAPTER IV + CHAPTER V + CHAPTER VI + CHAPTER VII + CHAPTER VIII + CHAPTER IX + CHAPTER X + CHAPTER XI + CHAPTER XII + CHAPTER XIII + CHAPTER XIV + CHAPTER XV + CHAPTER XVI + CHAPTER XVII + CHAPTER XVIII + CHAPTER XIX + CHAPTER XX + + + + + THE STRANGE TRANSFIGURATION + OF HANNAH STUBBS + + CHAPTER I. + +“Signor Ricardo, Prof. of the Italian Language!” That was the legend +that was engraved on the small brass plate that surmounted the bell +that admitted visitors to Mrs. Battleby’s lodging-house in Soho. +Signor Ricardo was everything that was estimable in Mrs. Battleby’s +eyes, only he was, as she observed to her next-door neighbour, Mrs. +Blamey, “a Mystery”. He was a tall, attenuated man, who stooped +slightly in the shoulders--had dark-grey eyes, keen as those of a +hawk, and shaded by bushy eyebrows--a perfect aquiline nose--and a +grave, almost solemn mouth, which seldom smiled, and ended in a +pointed beard, like that of Vandyke. He was very poor, being an +Italian refugee, whose estates had been confiscated for some political +error, but he was eminently a gentleman of the _ancienne noblesse_, +and preserved the dignity of his birth, even whilst pursuing an +occupation which is considered to place a man beyond the pale of +Society. + +“He’s as good a lodger as ever I had,” said Mrs. Battleby, on the +occasion referred to, “as reglar as a clock, both in his ’abits and +his payments--every Saturday mornin’ he dislocates my little bill, +though I believe he’s sometimes sorely put-to to find the money, and +every evenin’ he’s ’ome by eight o’clock and has his bit of supper and +puts his light out by ten, but arter that--well! he’s a Mystery!” + +“Lor! Mrs. Battleby, ma’am, you don’t go to think he’s murdered +anybody, do yer?” + +“_Murdered anybody!_” repeated the other, with withering contempt, +“why, he’s the aimabeloust gentleman you ever come acrost. He wouldn’t +hurt a fly, the Sig-nor” (Mrs. Battleby pronounced the word Signor, +with a decided accentuation on the letter _g_), “not to save his own +life! And got no temper in him. Never ’eard a ’arsh word, nor a hoath +pass his lips. If you’d only seen him onst, you’d never arsk if he was +a murderer, Mrs. Blamey!” + +“Then ’ow is he a Mystery, which it’s a word I never could abear.” + +“Well! it’s this way. When the Sig-nor come to me, now three years +ago, he hired three rooms at the top of the ’ouse. I had better rooms +I could have let him ’ave, on the floor below, but no! nothing would +suit him but my top rooms, hattics as I call ’em, and I had to turn +Mary Ann--that gal as went off with the postman--out of her bedroom in +order to accommodate him, and he’s lived there ever since. One is his +bedroom and the other his parlour, as you may suppose, but would you +believe it, Mrs. Blamey, as I’ve never seen the inside of my own third +room, ever since the Sig-nor has been with me!” + +“My! what do he do with it?” + +“’Ow can I tell? I tell you he’s a Mystery! The first day I went up to +clean his floor, I found the door locked, and when I arsked for the +key, the Sig-nor he says to me, ‘Excuge me,’ he says, for he’s the +politest of gentlemen, ‘but I will see after that room myself.’ ‘Lor! +Sir,’ I says, ‘but if it’s books or papers, I’ll be as careful as +careful,’ I says, ‘but you can’t never struggle with the dust +yourself.’ But he was as firm as a rock, and that there door has never +been unclosed to my knowledge since.” + +“Mrs. Battleby, ma’am, you gives me the cold creeps all down my back! +Suppose he should be Jack the Ripper, and congeals the corpusses in +your third room. Stranger things ’ave ’appened before now! I think it +be’oves you as an ’ouseholder to break open the door!” + +At this suggestion, Mrs. Battleby looked for a moment confounded, but +in a short time her confidence in the respectability of her lodger, +not to say the remembrance of his regularity in paying his rent, +restored her equanimity. + +“No! Mrs. Blamey, no!” she replied, “wild ’orses shouldn’t make me do +it! I’ll never believe no bad of the Sig-nor, though he _is_ a +foreigner, and many’s the one as has warned me against him. And he has +the respectablelest of friends. Doctor Steinberg is here five days out +of the seven, and I’ve heard tell as the Sig-nor teaches Royalty to +speak the I-talian langwidge. In course he is a foreigner, there’s no +denying that, but it ain’t ’is fault, and I’d be the last to throw it +in his teeth! But lor! here’s the Doctor coming along as usual, and he +and the Sig-nor will be closeted for hours together.” + +The conversation was here interrupted by the arrival of a young man of +about thirty, who had fair hair, worn longer than is usual in this +country, and whose short-sighted eyes appeared abnormally large +through the powerful glasses he was compelled to wear. He was a German +of the name of Steinberg, and the profession of medicine--a clever +fellow who was rising fast, and knew how to make the best of his +opportunities. He was interested in Signor Ricardo for several +reasons, and was, as Mrs. Battleby had said, a frequent visitor there. + +“Is the Signor in?” he demanded, as he came up with her. + +“Yes, Sir! he came in half an hour ago. You might be sure of that! He +is so regular that I calls him my clock.” + +“And alone?” continued Steinberg. + +“Quite alone, Sir!” + +“Very good! Don’t disturb yourself, Mrs. Battleby. I will find my way +up to his rooms.” + +And so saying, he passed her and ran lightly up the stairs. + +“Anyways I must go,” observed the landlady, as he disappeared, “for +that gal of mine is so stupid I can’t trust her to do a single thing +alone. I don’t know what my old friend Mary Stubbs was thinking of to +arsk me to take her. She’s no more good than the fifth wheel of a +coach! I believe she’s got a maggot in her brain. I found her making +the kitchen table hop round the room yesterday, and when I told her +not to be fooling like a child of five year old, she said she hadn’t +touched it. If I hadn’t been a fool myself, I shouldn’t never have +consented to try a gal, as had never been to service before, and come +fresh from the country, like a turnip out of a field. But her mother +and me, we was brought up together, and she wanted to get Hannah into +service away from Settlefield where they live--something to do with a +lad as she wanted to marry, I believe--and I gave in. But she’s likely +to prove a plague to me, for she’s always crying after her lad, and if +I do hate one thing before another, it is a love-sick gal. You might +as well have a basin of gruel to help you in the ’ouse!” + +“She’ll soon forget ’im in London,” said Mrs. Blamey consolingly, +“there are plenty of lads about! She’ll ’ave another in a fortnight!” + +“I dessay,” returned Mrs. Battleby, “but meanwhile she’ll do more +damage than she’s worth. She broke half a dozen bits of crockery this +week, a rattling them about, and when I tell ’er to keep ’em quiet, +she cries and says she can’t ’elp it! Well, good evening, Mrs. Blamey! +P’r’aps the Sig-nor will be wanting a little something extry for his +supper, now that the Doctor’s come to spend the evening with him.” + +And the neighbours parted until the next idle moment should arrive, in +which they could relieve their minds by chattering like two magpies to +each other. + +Meanwhile Doctor Steinberg had run lightly up the staircase until he +had reached the third story and tapped at his friend’s door. The +Signor gave the permission to enter, and his thin face lighted up with +pleasure as he caught sight of Steinberg. + +“Ah! the dear young man!” he exclaimed, in English, which was quite +intelligible, though rather broken, “and have you come to cheer my +solitude? That is very good! Now I shall have a pleasant evening! I +want it, my good friend, for I have had a most fatiguing day.” + +“I can see that you are weary,” said the young doctor, as he grasped +his hand, “and more than that, Signor, you are weak. I am afraid that +amidst your multifarious duties to others, you forget your duty to +yourself! Your pulse is very feeble. You have neither eaten nor drunk +enough to-day. I hope you have prepared a hearty supper for yourself!” + +“I know nothing! My good Mrs. Battleby arranges all these little +affairs for me! I had a good breakfast before I started this morning, +but as for the mid-day meal--well, it is difficult for me to eat when +I am tired, and even if I could, it would be still more difficult to +digest. My stomach is feeble, Steinberg. If you could give me a new +stomach, my kind friend, I know you would, but it is impossible. The +machine will go on working a little longer, and for myself I care not +how soon it may stop altogether!” + +“No! no! you must not say that! Why! you are not fifty yet. You have a +good thirty years before you in which to enjoy life and make your +friends happy.” + +“Friends, Steinberg! with the exception of yourself, where are my +friends?” + +“O! you have more than you think for, Signor, and at all events one is +enough to try and make you look after yourself. You are not so weak as +you imagine. If you would rest by night, you would not feel the +fatigue of the day so much. But these studies that you will pursue, +are killing you! They would try the strength of the strongest man, +repeated as they are with you, night after night, but added to the +strain made upon your physical and mental faculties by day, they will +end by landing you in your grave!” + +“Then I shall have gained my desire,” said the Professor, with a faint +smile, “and the Great Secret will be solved!” + +“Perhaps! but why, then, not wait for the Change which must inevitably +come to all of us, to discover what lies beyond?” + +“Ah! you do not know--you do not understand----” said the Professor, +“my heart is being burnt up with longing and desire. I cannot rest! +there is no peace for me unless I am striving to find out one +thing--to solve one mystery--I feel as if I cannot die until I have +found it out!” + +“Found _what_ out?” repeated Steinberg, “what is this secret you are +so eager to discover the solution of? Will you not confide it to me?” + +The Signor looked at the young scientist curiously, as though +questioning whether he could trust him. Presently the gloom cleared +off his brow and he murmured, + +“Why not? You are my friend--my only friend. You would preserve it as +I have done. But will you join me in trying to find the Secret out? +Will you also dip into the mysteries of Occultism, and hold converse +with the Unseen World?” + +“That I cannot promise you,” replied the Doctor, “certainly not until +I know what it is you are striving for. Remember, that I know but +little of your doings, except that you shut yourself up in that little +room for half the night and sit up poring over old books and +manuscripts, long after you should be in bed and asleep. I conclude +you study Witchcraft and Black Magic! Well! I am a Lutheran and have +been reared to consider such studies wrong, and practised only by the +children of the Devil, but I know nothing of them myself. What is your +object in thus ruining your health? I cannot imagine any sane man who +has duties in this world to fulfil, caring about such rubbish. True or +false, leave it to those who have no more serious aim in life, and +think only of your health and yourself!” + +Ricardo leaned back in his chair and smiled furtively. + +“Now, what is the use of it?” continued Steinberg, pertinaciously. + +The Professor answered the question in a way that startled him. + +“Have you ever loved?” he said. + +“You must tell me first what you mean by the word.” + +“Have you ever loved a woman intensely--passionately--loved her so +much that your life was fused in her life--your soul in her soul?” + +The Doctor sat up in his chair and stared at his friend. For a moment +he thought he had gone mad. + +“_Never!_” he said, emphatically. “As a rule, I have not cared for +women. I look upon the sex as a necessary evil--something without +which population cannot go on--without which, too, Nature could not +exist--but as something also to be avoided as much as possible, and +dealt with as little as may be!” + +Ricardo sighed. + +“Happy man!” he ejaculated at last, “you are to be envied, Steinberg. +You have missed great happiness, and great pain.” + +“Happiness!” echoed Steinberg, “is it possible, Signor, that your +grave demeanour and your mysterious studies have anything to do with a +woman?” + +“They have everything--everything, to do with it,” exclaimed the elder +man, excitedly. “Steinberg, I have never told you my history. You do +not even know who I am! If I confide in you, will you hold my +confidence sacred?” + +The Doctor held out his hand. + +“Most certainly I will. There is my hand on it. But do not stir up +painful memories for my sake, Professor! If you are endeavouring to +forget the Past, let it lie in it’s grave!” + +“I wish you to hear it,” replied Ricardo, “I am old, I might go any +day. You are my only friend. I should like you to know the truth +before we part!” + +“Why do you talk of yourself as an old man? What age are you?” + +“I was forty-nine on my last birthday.” + +“Nonsense! You are in the prime of life. This intelligence still +further confirms my belief that your appearance and weakness are due +to your unnatural studies alone.” + +“But the pursuit of which holds the only consolation this world can +afford me,” replied Ricardo. “Wait till you have heard what I have to +tell you, Steinberg, and you will acknowledge that I am right. First, +then, as to my identity. My name is not Ricardo. I am Paolo, Marchese +di Sorrento, the last member of one of the oldest families in Italy.” + +“A nobleman!” cried Steinberg, “and in this humble position? For what +reason? What brought you down so low, as to be compelled to work for +your daily bread?” + +“A political offence, my friend, and not of my own doing! A plot +against the Government, in which several nobles were concerned, and +being the intimate friend and associate of most of them, my name +became unfortunately mixed up with theirs, and I found my property and +estates confiscated, and myself banished from Italy, before I hardly +knew what it was all about. It was a great misfortune, but many have +suffered in the same way. I came to England as the only land in which +I could make a little money by teaching my native language, and I have +managed to exist since and have found several pupils in noble +families, as you well know. But my father’s name--the title that had +been handed down and honoured through so many generations--I could not +retain that! It would have been an infamy--a degradation!” + +“No wonder that you have aged before your time--that you are of so +melancholy a temperament,” observed Steinberg. “Your misfortunes have +been sufficient to kill you.” + +“Ah! do not mistake me, my good friend! This reverse, however cruel, +could not have had the power to sap my life-strings in this manner. +There was worse behind it--so much worse that the blow of losing my +name and money fell almost scatheless upon me! I had already lost my +world.” + +Steinberg remained silent, waiting for him to proceed. + +“I asked you just now if you had ever loved, and you told me, ‘No’. +You are right! Keep to your resolution. Never allow yourself to be +entangled in a woman’s wiles, for they are Death to those who trust in +them. When I was only one-and-twenty and had just come into my +father’s estates and title, I fell a victim to the charms of Leonora +d’Asissi, a young lady my equal in rank and position, and after a +brief courtship, we were married. Ah! Steinberg, how I loved--I +adored--that woman! You, who confess to having never experienced the +tender passion cannot enter into my feelings. We Italians are famous +for our ardent love, and no Italian ever loved more ardently than I +did. I lived only in her presence; I was never weary of contemplating +her exquisite beauty; I waited on her as a slave; I made the day and +night tremulous with the repetition of my love. Do not we often weary +women by telling them too often that we love them, Steinberg? Are they +fickle by nature, or is it only that they hate monotony? Any way +Leonora, my adored wife, wearied of me and mine. She could not bear to +remain in our beautiful villa in the country, where she saw no one but +her enraptured lover, but pined to return to the palazzo in Rome which +has been in our family for generations. Here, she would collect around +her all the young married women like herself, with their attendant +_cavalieres serventes_ and turn night into day with her balls and +feasts and concerts. And yet I suspected nothing!” + +“Was there anything to suspect?” demanded the Doctor. + +The Professor started in his seat. + +“Ah! now you touch the root of the matter! Was there? _Was_ there? The +question haunts me night and day. But I was jealous, Steinberg, all my +nation are! Where Love is so warm, doubts will intrude themselves. +Perhaps we expect too much from women. Their natures are not so +passionate as ours. We tax them too much--we look for a flame as +ardent as our own--and when we do not find it, we begin to suspect it +is bestowed upon another man. When I had my Leonora all to +myself--when in the silence of night, her beautiful head lay in +peaceful sleep upon my breast, I believed nothing but good of her--but +when I watched her whirling round the ball room in the arms of some +one of my acquaintance, or found her sitting in the conservatory with +another, Suspicion would lay hold of my jealous temper, and I would +question if after all, she were deceiving me, and everyone knew the +bitter truth but myself.” + +The recollection of those days of anguish seemed to overcome the +Signor even then, for he pulled out his handkerchief, and wiped the +moisture from his brow. + +“The relation distresses you,” remarked Steinberg, “pray do not +proceed.” + +“No! no! I shall not stop now until you have heard all. I have gone +too far already. Amongst Leonora’s acquaintances was a young man, a +mere lad called Lorenzo Centi. Some one made a joke about her and this +boy before me and aroused my suspicions concerning them. I found +Leonora on more than one occasion sitting apart on a couch with young +Centi--once, with their hands clasped together--and I forbad him the +house in consequence. But a rumour reached my ears that, when I was +away from home, my wife’s woman was used to fetch Centi to her, and +they spent the time of my absence together. I determined to watch. I +professed to be going for a night into the country to see after my +farm, but I returned at midnight, and found them supping together in +Leonora’s boudoir. I rushed in upon them furiously, and my wife turned +and laughed in my face--knowing all my deep love for her, she laughed +at my disappointment and she drove me mad. Before God, Steinberg, if +she had only cried, or seemed frightened, or sorry, I should have +spared her--I loved her so intensely--but her laugh raised all the +Devil in me and before the smile had left her lips, she lay dead at my +feet.” + +The stoical German sprang away from Ricardo’s side. He had been +prepared for much, but not for murder. + +“No! no! you must be mistaken,” he exclaimed; “you do not mean that +you killed her!” + +“_Killed her!_ Of course I did, and would have killed her lover into +the bargain, but that he escaped before I could lay hands on him. She +laughed at my distress, and I stabbed her to the heart with my dagger. +Better dead, a thousand times, I thought, than live a lie! But +now--now----” + +“You are sorry--you repent----” said Steinberg, sympathetically, “Yes! +I can understand it perfectly! But it was done in a moment of +anger--you were not master of yourself--you would act very differently +were the time to come over again.” + +“Not if she were false,” cried the Professor, “I would kill her over +again this moment, if she deceived me! But did she--did she? That is +the question that harasses me now.” + +“What! have you any doubts upon the subject?” + +“I have every doubt--they torture me day and night. What proofs had I +of her guilt? She was young and careless and very, very beautiful! +Might she not have played with fire without considering the +consequences--without being burnt? She laughed at me, it is true--but +she did not know the depth of a man’s love--the strength of a man’s +jealousy. + +“She did not think, my poor Leonora, that my hand was on the fatal +weapon I carried in my breast. Ah, Steinberg, it is better like you +never to have known the rapture of possessing a woman, than to feel +you have sent her out of the world, when perhaps she was innocent.” + +“It is terrible,” said the Doctor, “but was it never cleared up?” + +“_Never!_ In my country, we think far less of such things than you do +in yours. A husband who kills his wife through jealousy, and +especially when he has found her with her lover, is too common an +offender to provoke condign punishment. I was had up before the +tribunal to afford an explanation of my wife’s death, and the reasons +I gave were considered sufficient. I left the country afterwards, more +to escape from my maddening recollections than to avoid Society--I +also had a burning desire to meet young Centi and give him his due, +but he was so successfully concealed by his family, that I never +gained my wish. Perhaps it was for the best. My hands might have been +imbrued in a second unnecessary murder! When, after many years’ +wandering, I ventured to return to Rome, it was to find that my +estates were no longer mine, and I was doomed to exile. Now, you have +my history, Steinberg, and you may thank God that you have escaped so +sad a one!” + +Karl Steinberg was silent for awhile--so was his companion. This +narrative had rather shocked the German’s sensibilities, while it had +excited great sympathy for the lonely man before him, who had been +bereft of all he held dear, or that made life worth living for him. + +The Doctor, with his want of faith in Women, had not much doubt in his +own mind that the Signor’s wife had merited her doom, but he declined +to express an opinion on the subject either way. After a few minutes’ +pause, he said, with the view of turning a conversation which had +become so painful to both of them, + +“But what has all this to do, Professor, with your study of the Black +Art?” + + + + + CHAPTER II. + +Ricardo looked up dreamily, as if he had quite forgotten that part +of the subject. + +“Have I not told you?” he inquired; “do you not understand?” + +“Indeed I do not! I am quite in the dark about it! You have related to +me the painful story of your poor wife’s death, with which I fully +sympathise, but I do not trace any connection between that and your +interest in Mysticism.” + +“How strange! How very strange!” replied Ricardo, shaking himself +together. “Why! to me they are one. My one object in life now is to +learn the truth--to hear if I were only the rightful agent to avenge a +great wrong, or if my mad jealousy prompted me to commit a murder. It +is for this reason alone that I have studied, as far as I am able, the +Art of Magic, and pored over my books and my experiments half the +nights through, in order to gain an answer.” + +“But how can that avail you, Signor? Do you expect the Spirits of Evil +to aid you in this matter?” + +“No! no! Leonora herself! It is for Leonora only that I sit up night +after night, listening for a sign, a whisper--straining my eyes for a +glance, a shadow--but it seems all in vain. I must have help, and in +this house, surrounded as I am by curious eyes, I know not how to +obtain what I require.” + +“And do you really believe that your dead wife will be able by the aid +of Magic to return to you in bodily shape and satisfy your curiosity +on this subject?” questioned the Doctor, almost amused at the idea--so +impossible did it appear to him. + +“Why not? Why not?” inquired Ricardo, impatiently. “Others have come, +and why not my beautiful Leonora? Surely, you do not disbelieve in the +possibility of the spirit’s return to earth? It has happened in all +ages! Why not in this?” + +“I know too little of the matter to be able to give you a sensible +answer,” said the Doctor, “but if possible, it seems most undesirable +to me. These things will all be cleared up for us by and by, in the +Hereafter, if there be an Hereafter. Meanwhile, cannot you persuade +yourself to wait patiently until you join your wife in the Great +Beyond? If you committed an unfortunate error and she was innocent, +why disturb her in the rest she must have gained?--and if, on the +contrary, she really deceived you, may you not be doing yourself an +injury by drawing back to earth a malevolent spirit, who may still be +harbouring thoughts of revenge against you?” + +“No! no!” said the Professor, shaking his head, “you will not convince +me I am doing wrong, or rob me of my one unceasing hope to see and +speak with her again. It is the awful doubt, the suspense, that has +turned my hair grey before its time, and made my voice quaver like +that of an old man. If I could only raise her from the dead for one +little moment--hear her say, ‘I am innocent, and I forgive you!’ I +should ask no more--I should live contentedly and die happy!” + +“And what means do you take to this end?” demanded Karl Steinberg, who +could not help feeling a certain amount of interest in the matter, +since his friend appeared so earnest over it. + +Ricardo looked round the room as though to assure himself that he had +no listeners--then rising, went to the door, and having locked it, +turned to Steinberg, and said, + +“Come with me and see my séance room!” + +He stepped towards the door of the third room, which constituted him +such a Mystery to his landlady, and which opened from the one in which +they sat, and turned the key. Steinberg followed him curiously, but +all he saw was, that the small apartment was hung round the walls and +over the window and floor, with black stuff, and that it contained no +furniture, unless a couple of cushions thrown on the ground can be +called so. + +“No air and no light!” exclaimed the Doctor. “And what do you do +here?” + +“When the household have gone to bed,” said Ricardo, mysteriously, +“and I am sure of not being disturbed, I shut myself in and burn the +different incenses recommended in the books of Magic, and after a +while the spirits come, and sit down on the floor beside me.” + +“Do you mean me to believe that?” exclaimed Steinberg, staring at +Ricardo as though he were insane, as indeed, at that moment, he +believed him to be. + +“You can believe it, or not,” replied the Professor, “but it is true.” + +“Impossible!” cried the Doctor, “you let your imagination run away +with you. You work so hard all day and permit this morbid fancy to +occupy your tired brain by night, until it has become in a measure, +diseased. I know you think you see and feel these things, but it is a +species of delirium or mental intoxication, bred of your intense +longing to accomplish what is unaccomplishable.” + +“Very good,” said Ricardo, quietly, “if you believe that, you must +believe it! But what would convince you of the truth?” + +“Nothing but the evidence of my own senses, whilst they were in the +calm condition they are at present.” + +“If that is so, my friend, stay here and sit with me to-night. Then +your own senses shall convince you.” + +This proposition took Steinberg by surprise. He was not entirely free +from the universal dread of anything like communication with the +Unseen World, although he had expressed his disbelief in the +possibility, but his fear was mingled with curiosity, and the result +was that he assented to Ricardo’s proposal. + +“I will, Professor,” he said, “if only to try and show you that your +supposed spirits are merely shadows cast upon the wall.” + +“A wall which has no light wherewith to cast shadows,” remarked +Ricardo, sarcastically. + +“Well! well! that they are shadows thrown on the retina of your eye by +reflections from your brain,” replied the young Doctor, somewhat +testily, for he did not like to be refuted on his own ground, “any way +that the spirits of the dead have nothing to do with anything that you +may see, or hear, whilst shut up in this little room.” + +“We are not arguing on what I may see or hear, Steinberg, but on what +may strike your senses. Neither did I affirm that the living things +that visit me, are spirits of the dead. My studies have taught me that +there is a class of secondary spirits called Elementals, that have had +nothing to do with this earth, but who yet can and do come to the aid +of those mortals who solicit their assistance. The vapoury forms that +appear to me may be only Elementals, but they come, all the same.” + +“If they come, they must be worth the trouble of investigation, if +only in the interests of Science,” remarked Steinberg, thoughtfully, +“but after all, will it not resolve itself into the same old truth +that we have been brought up to believe, _i.e._, that we are +surrounded by evil spirits always ready to whisper bad thoughts into +our ears, and stimulate our worst inclinations?” + +“But if evil spirits, then also good,” interposed the Professor +eagerly, “you surely would not deny the same power to all those +departed this earth. If devils, then also my Leonora, to speak with +whom I have been promised over and over again, and feel I only want +more power to accomplish.” + +“Well! at all events I will sit with you this evening, Professor, and +try to see as you do. But I hear footsteps on the stairs. Had you not +better close the door of your sanctum, and turn the conversation to +some lighter subject?” + +Ricardo locked the door carefully, putting the key in his pocket, and +by the time Mrs. Battleby appeared with the supper tray, the two +friends were talking gaily of a new drama that had just created some +sensation in the town. + +“I wish you would come out with me sometimes, Professor,” the Doctor +was saying, “it would do you good to see some of these novelties and +listen to the discussions over them.” + +“Ah! that it would, Sir,” said Mrs. Battleby, who was never backward +in joining in the conversation, “it would do the Sig-nor all the good +in the world, instead of poring over them nasty, musty vollums of his, +as must be enough to make any gentleman’s ’ead ache.” + +“No! no! no!” exclaimed Ricardo, waving their suggestions away with +his hand, “I cannot! It is impossible! I have other things to do.” + +“Or if you would ’ave your friends here more of an evening, Sir,” +continued the landlady, “nice, light-’arted young people, as could +play the banjo to you and sing a bit, I’m sure it would cheer you up, +and dissolve you from your studies.” + +“Nonsense! you don’t know what you’re talking about,” exclaimed the +Professor, impatiently. “Put down the tray, Mrs. Battleby, like a good +creature, and leave the Doctor and me to ourselves. We have some +important matters to discuss.” + +“Certainly, Sir,” said Mrs. Battleby, as she bounced the tray down on +the table with an energy that proved her wounded feelings, “and I ’ope +as when you rings the bell, you won’t mind my gal Hannah coming up to +clear, as I’ve got a little marketing to do, and I knows you don’t +like the things lying about too long.” + +“O! dear no,” said Ricardo, “let Hannah clear the table by all means, +and tell her to be quick about it, Mrs. Battleby, as my friend and I +have business to attend to.” + +“Very good, Sir!” replied the landlady, as she left them to +themselves. + +Steinberg and Ricardo soon dispatched the simple meal set before them, +and then the former, drawing out his watch, remarked that if he was to +get home that night, he thought they had better set to work in their +search after the Invisible World. + +The Professor accordingly rang the bell, which was answered by a young +woman whom he had never seen before, all the waiting in his room being +usually performed by Mrs. Battleby. The stranger was about eighteen +years of age, and looked as if she had just been transported from a +stack-yard, or a cow-house, and set down in Soho. She was not at all +attractive to the sight. She had a thick, ungainly figure, with a +waist like a tar-barrel, and huge hands and feet. Her bosom was +unusually developed for so young a girl--her face was broad and +flat--her mouth wide--her nose short and turned-up, and her colour +coarse and high. But to counteract all these failings, Hannah +possessed a wonderful pair of grey eyes, set wide apart in a low +forehead--eyes that looked you through and through, and yet had a +far-away dreamy gaze that was very provoking to Mrs. Battleby who +declared the girl was always more than half asleep. Hannah also +rejoiced in a thick mass of light brown hair, which made her head seem +much too large for her body. Taken altogether, she was uncouth, but +there was an innocence and simplicity in her gaze which was very +attractive when one had the time to discover it. As she stood silent +on the threshold of the Professor’s room, the men both thought she was +one of the stupidest, most countrified lasses they had ever come +across. + +“Are you Hannah?” asked Ricardo, and on receiving an answer in the +affirmative, he added, + +“Well! your mistress said you were to clear away my supper tray, and +when you have done that, you can bring me up a jug of hot water, and +then you must not disturb us again to-night. Do you understand?” + +For the girl was looking at him so stolidly, that it seemed doubtful +if she had even heard what he said to her. + +“Yes, Sir!” she answered, in a dull, low voice, as she piled all the +plates and dishes on the top of one another, preparatory to making a +grand smash if she should happen to slip going downstairs again. + +“What a lout!” was Steinberg’s observation, as Hannah disappeared. + +“Just so,” said Ricardo, “a simple piece of clay--a heifer newly +driven from pasture--an animal with all her senses undeveloped--but +not without a soul! Did you remark her eyes? They are unfathomable! I +should be curious, had I the time, to find out what lies beneath +them.” + +“Holloa!” cried Steinberg, with a laugh, “take care of yourself, +Professor! Finding out what lies beneath women’s eyes, is dangerous +work! You might even animate this clod in your researches.” + +Ricardo regarded him reproachfully. + +“Do you know me so little, as to jest on such a subject?” he said. “I, +whose whole soul is bent on one object only. Steinberg, will you +believe me when I say, that since Leonora died beneath my hand, I have +never looked at another woman with even a semblance of the same +feelings? I was only thirty when I drove her soul from me, but I have +been widowed ever since, and shall remain so to my grave!” + +“It’s a mistake to take these things too seriously,” replied his +friend, “it is better to have lived as I have, caring for no one and +regretting no one--for you see when a gap occurs I am able to fill it +up without delay or compunction.” + +“Ah! I could not live like that!” said the Professor with a sigh. +“With me it must be all, or nothing! Leonora was my All. I could kill +her, but I could not replace her. Well! are you ready?” + +“Certainly, when you are.” + +Ricardo rose, and (Hannah having re-appeared with the hot water) +produced various pungent spices and gums, and with dried herbs and +other mysterious preparations from a drawer, commenced to separate +them into measured portions and to crumble them into a bowl. + +“What is all this about?” demanded Steinberg, who having lit his pipe +and got a tumbler of hot grog by his side, was disposed to view his +friend’s doings from a humorous point of view. + +“It would take too long to explain a mixture to you, which it has +taken me years to collect and assimilate,” said Ricardo, “but it is +the only potion that I have found really effectual--the only one that +has brought the spirits round me. Some of these essences and oils came +from India. An old friend of mine out there, took the trouble to +collect and preserve them for me, and others I have paid far more than +I can afford, for, but the result has been worth it all, as you shall +judge for yourself!” + +“But how, in the name of all that’s wonderful, can a few scents, +however potent, have the power to attract, or cause to be visible, +spirits of air?” demanded the Doctor. + +“You must tell me first what those spirits are composed of,” replied +the Professor. “You, as a medical man, know that our bodies are +composed of chemicals--it stands to reason therefore, that our +spiritual bodies are composed of the same, though varying from the +earthly ones, as they themselves do. When you can give me a list of +the chemicals, or essences, composing the spiritual part of ourselves, +I may be able to find out why certain decoctions attract them hither +and enable them to become visible to mortal sight. The fact is, +Steinberg, it is all a great Mystery, which perhaps we are not +intended to solve. But what is not a Mystery? Can you tell me that? +What are Birth and Death, but unfathomable Mysteries, that we shall +never know the meaning of, in this world? We accept them as ordinary +things, because we see them happen every day, but we know no more +about them--how they happen or how they are to be prevented--than you +know of this mixture, which is now ready to be set alight to.” + +“Come on, old friend, then,” replied the Doctor, as he led the way +into the séance chamber. + +Ricardo carried a lighted taper, and matches, which he was careful to +secure in his pocket, for it was like a vault they entered. The sombre +hangings which enveloped the apartment, shutting out both light and +air, and the musty smell which came from them, mingled with the stale +scent of the incense, made the place feel uncanny. Ricardo walked up +to the cushions on the floor, and told Steinberg to seat himself on +one of them. Having deposited himself beside him, and set alight to +the incense, he blew out the candle, and the wreathing smoke which +ascended from the bowl was the only illumination in the room. + +Steinberg began to feel uneasy, notwithstanding his vaunted +incredulity. The German nation is famous for its many tales and +legends of ghostly lore, and however our reason may seem to disprove +their authenticity, our faith is prone to cling to the truths which +have been instilled into our minds during childhood. + +As he watched the smoke curling up towards the ceiling, Steinberg felt +unusually cold--the little room seemed to fill with a chilly wind +which blew upon his face and hands--and the silence which his +companion maintained served to increase the gloom. + +“May we not talk?” he whispered, presently, to Ricardo. + +“Certainly, if you feel so inclined,” returned the Professor, “but for +myself, the occasion always seems so solemn, that I can only hold +commune with my own thoughts and think of--her!” + +“And you are not in the least alarmed?” inquired the Doctor, who had +felt his companion leaning very hard against his shoulder, as if for +confidence and support. + +“Not in the slightest. I am awed--but not frightened,” was the reply. + +“Why, then, do you lean so hard against me?” said Steinberg. + +“I am not touching you,” replied Ricardo, “I am too far away! I am not +seated on the cushion now, but in the centre of the room.” + +“Not seated on the cushion?” repeated Steinberg. “Then--in God’s +Name!--_who is?_” + +“How can I tell? I have already said that I am not near you! Doubtless +one of the spirits who visit me, is anxious to convince you of his +identity. Speak to him, Steinberg! As yet, I have been unable to make +them speak to me! You may be more successful.” + +But the Doctor had already rolled off the cushion towards the door. + +“Let me out!” he cried, “I will not stay here a moment longer! I told +you when you first made this infamous proposal to me, that it was +diabolical!--that none but evil spirits could be induced to hold +communication with men. And this must have been a devil, I am sure of +it, else he would have had the decency to give me some warning, before +sitting down beside me. Open the door, Professor! I have been brought +up a Lutheran, and my Church forbids all such practices as these. I +refuse to stay in this room any longer!” + +“All right! It is all right!” said the Professor, as he drew the key +from his pocket and unlocked the door, “you are frightened, that is +all. I thought you would not be so brave when you came to see and feel +them. But how about it’s being all my imagination, eh, Doctor?” + +Karl Steinberg, restored to the light, felt that he cut rather a sorry +figure. His cheeks were blanched with terror, and his limbs shook from +the same cause. But he tried to laugh it off. + +“Now, confess, Professor, that you have been playing me a trick,” he +said, “it was you who came up and leant so hard against me, wasn’t it? +You thought you’d catch me tripping, you know, and put me in a blue +funk. But you haven’t succeeded, I’m as cool as a cucumber!” + +Ricardo looked at him reproachfully. + +“You are wrong,” he replied, “and you know you are wrong! If it were +I, and you knew it, why didn’t you throw your arms round me? Why did +you insist upon leaving the room? And why do you look so blue about +the mouth and chin? Ah! no, my friend, you know it was not I, as well +as I do! And such a pity too! They were coming so beautifully. They +have never come so quickly before. You are just the man to help me. +Come now, come back for a little, and I will promise to sit close to +you all the while!” + +And he laid his hand on that of the Doctor, as he spoke. But Steinberg +pulled his vehemently away. + +“No! no! not for all the world,” he ejaculated, “I will not play with +the Devil any longer! You must conduct your diabolical practices by +yourself.” + +“But you will acknowledge they are not fraud then--that there is +something to be frightened at?” + +“I will acknowledge nothing! I am not in a fit state to argue the +matter to-night. To-morrow, perhaps, I may be able to judge more +calmly. All that I can say is, that I refuse to enter that room +again.” + +“If I could only persuade you,” continued the Professor, “if you had +only waited a little while and watched the smoke from the bowl, you +would have seen such beautiful forms shaping themselves amongst it! +Women and little children like cherubs--sometimes I have sat up all +night unable to tear myself away from so beautiful a sight!” + +“All emissaries of the Evil One,” replied Steinberg, who was still +shaking from the scare he had received, “sent perhaps to lure you to +your destruction. Take care what you are about, Ricardo! Some morning +you may be found missing--dragged down to the Infernal Regions by +these demons, who assume the appearance of Angels of Light in order to +deceive you.” + +“_The Infernal Regions!_” exclaimed the other, excitedly, “and what +would they signify to me, if I am never to see, nor speak, with my +Leonora more. Ah! Steinberg, I forget! You know nothing but the name +of this Love, which could turn Heaven into Hell without the presence +of the Beloved One, and vice vêrsa. Had you loved and lost as I have, +you would sit in that room, not a night, but every night, till you +heard some news of her who made your world.” + +“Perhaps,” replied Steinberg, stolidly, “but you see, I haven’t.” + +“But you will try again, will you not? You will come when this first +alarm has subsided, and see if you cannot stand it better? I, too, +felt fear when first I sat alone and watched the spirits rise from the +incense I had lighted, with my own hands. But that has all gone! I am +as calm now as the dead themselves! And so will you be, if you will +only try again!” + +“_Never!_ Not for all the wealth of the Indies would I enter that +accursed room of my own free will, again. I am going, Ricardo! I don’t +feel well! I think the smell of the incense has upset me! Forgive me +for leaving you so soon, but I shall be better at home. Good-night!” + +He ran hastily down the stairs as he spoke, and the Professor, +ruminating on the little trust there is to be put in one’s friends in +time of need, retired sadly to his bed. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + +Signor Ricardo passed a restless night. His disappointment preyed +upon his mind and robbed him of sleep. He had so long wished to ask +Steinberg to join him in his pursuit of Occultism--had so depended on +his assistance--and prophesied their mutual success--that the Doctor’s +abject terror at his first experience, had thrown cold water on all +his hopes. + +Leonora seemed further off than ever, and he groaned in spirit to +think she might be so near, and yet he was unable to communicate with +her, and ascertain if he had been right or wrong in the indulgence of +his revenge. Had his dead wife stood before him then, he would hardly +have known what he most desired to hear her say. If she declared her +innocence, his rash act had made him doubly guilty, yet if she +confessed that he had been right, she was lost to him for ever. + +But the Signor hardly thought of that--the burning truth was all he +wished to discover. The real fact being, that Leonora had been all and +much worse than he had ever believed her to be. She had been a +heartless coquette of the worst dye--vain, deceitful, and +self-seeking--caring nothing whom she wounded, so long as her +insatiate vanity was gratified--with no thought, so long as she gained +her cause, over whose dead bodies she trampled on her road to Victory. +She had been guilty with Lorenzo Centi, and half-a-dozen other men, +and the death-blow which her husband’s dagger gave her, was the very +smallest punishment which she deserved. + +Yet Ricardo was not satisfied. With Leonora, whom he had so fondly +worshipped, dead, his belief in her iniquity had died also, and all +his fear was, lest he had slain a woman who loved him as much as he +loved her. And he knew of no way by which his doubts could be laid to +rest, except by bringing her back from the grave to tell him the truth +with her own lips. + +As he lay in his narrow bed that night, he conjured the Almighty by +every petition he could think of, to permit her to return, if only for +a moment, and allay his bitter fears by one means or the other. But no +answer came to his prayer. No sound nor sight came out of the darkness +to afford him the consolation of knowing that his prayer had reached +the Throne. His Heavenly Father had deserted him; he was a child left +out in the darkness and the cold; left to find his way home by +himself. If he wandered from the beaten track, who could blame him? No +helping hand was stretched out to guide him; no light appeared in the +distance to show him the way; he must penetrate the Mysteries of +Nature by himself, and as best he could. Once or twice during that +long night, the Professor fancied he saw a faint, tremulous movement +of the curtains that hung round his bed--thought he heard a whisper +penetrate the air;--but he listened, and strained his eyes in +vain--nothing more rewarded his rapt attention. + +“Leonora! my beloved!” he said, in a low voice, as he sat up in bed, +and tried to pierce the gloom with his mortal vision; “Leonora! come +to me--speak to me! Tell me the truth! I will not be angry now! I know +we all have sinned, and you were but mortal like myself--only solve +these doubts. If you were innocent of wronging me--if that bitter blow +was a foul injury to your faith to me, I will bear the purgatory it +will bring me, thankfully, only to know that you are dwelling in the +Light of God! And if it was only an act of justice--if, in the heat of +your youth and carelessness, you were unfaithful to your marriage vow, +I forgive you, my Beloved,--I forgive you from my heart, and will tell +you so, as soon as we meet in another world. Only come to me, my +wife--only look at me! whisper one word of affection, and I shall live +and die, content!” + +So the poor lover and husband raved, only to be answered by silence +and gloom. Leonora was there! He felt it, but he had not sufficient +power by himself, to enable her to manifest her spiritual presence to +him. If Steinberg would not sit with him, he must find some one +else--for he could not stand the suspense and anxiety much longer. + +He tossed and turned in his bed until daylight, and rose with the +earliest dawn, worn and haggard, with the intention of walking in the +Park before he took his breakfast. It was seven o’clock as the +Professor turned out of the front door of his dingy lodgings--an +unprecedented thing on his part, for he usually sat up so late, that +he did not leave the house until his first lessons were due. As he +reached the lower passage, he found the front door open and the girl +Hannah cleaning the steps. Ricardo passed her with a bow, for he was a +most courteous man in his dealings with women, but Hannah’s head was +bent upon her work, and she did not see him. As Ricardo gained the +pavement he turned and looked at her. She was kneeling in the attitude +in which such work is done, and her slip-shod shoes which had half +fallen off, left her feet, encased in black worsted stockings, well +exposed to view. They were large feet, as has been said before, and +two holes in her stockings left the naked heels bare for the +admiration of the passers-by. The Professor stopped for a moment and +regarded those heels. They were not pretty perhaps, but they were rosy +and firm, and undeniably youthful, and somehow they inspired him with +a certain amount of compassion, to think that such young flesh should +have to bear its burden of life so soon. He stood as though transfixed +by the sight of those two rosy heels. No thought of lust, or even +admiration, entered his mind, which was far too sensitive and refined +for any feeling of the kind, but they excited his pity, and carried +him back somehow to the days when he, too, was young and innocent. He +felt as if he wanted to say something kind to the poor young girl who +had begun so early to drudge for others. The rosy heels, though only +seen through the ugly medium of a pair of ragged stockings, attracted +him as a callow nestling with gaping beak, or a little pink apple +hanging in an orchard might have done. He would have no desire to +possess the callow bird, and the idea of eating the sour apple would +have set his teeth on edge--yet they would have carried with them a +memory of the days when he would have enjoyed them both--and in this +light he felt drawn towards Hannah Stubbs as she scrubbed the front +door steps. He had a shilling in his pocket, and he stepped back to +give it to her. Perhaps a shilling might represent many things that +would give pleasure to the little household drudge--but as the +Professor drew near to her the second time, he perceived that Hannah +was crying and the tears were dropping on the flags she knelt upon, +and mingling with the hearth-stone. Tears in the eyes of a woman +always excited the Signor’s sympathy, and, forgetting the shilling, he +inquired eagerly why Hannah wept. + +The girl looked frightened at being detected in such an act of +self-indulgence. + +“It’s nothing, Sir--nothing!” she exclaimed, as she hastily rubbed her +eyes with her knuckles and smeared her face over with the +hearth-stone. + +“O! come, that cannot be quite true,” replied Ricardo, “I’m sure you +are not so foolish as to cry for nothing! Perhaps you have left your +friends for the first time, and are new to service, and it seems hard +to you. Is that so?” + +The girl seemed grateful for the enquiry. + +“It ain’t that, Sir,” she said, shaking her head. “In course I was +sorry to leave mother and father and the rest, but ’tain’t that as +makes me cry. We’ve all got to arn our bread, and mother said it was +time I was doing of something--and she will be so angry if I goes ’ome +again so soon--that she will!” and Hannah commenced to sob anew. + +“But why should you go, Hannah? Is not Mrs. Battleby satisfied with +you?” + +“No, Sir, I’m afeared not, though I does all I can, but she’s angry +with me a’cause of the plates and dishes which they keeps slipping +about, but I’m as careful of them as I can be, Sir, and I can’t ’elp +the tables and chairs ’opping round the room--and whatever mother will +think I don’t know! She’ll say it’s such a disgrace, but it ain’t my +fault--Boo-hoo-hoo!” and here Hannah commenced to blubber afresh, till +the Professor began to fear that she would attract the attention of +the passers-by. + +“Now, look here, my good girl,” he said, “don’t cry, or you will make +Mrs. Battleby still more angry. The neighbours will think she has been +beating you. Listen to me! Mrs. Battleby’s a good soul, though rather +strict perhaps, but I’ve known her a long time, and if you’ll promise +me to dry your eyes, and be as careful as you can of the china, I’ll +speak to her on your behalf when I come back from business this +evening, and see if I cannot induce her to give you another trial.” + +“I’m sure you’re mortal good, Sir,” said the girl, as she dug her +knuckles afresh into her eyes. + +“Never mind the goodness! You do your work as well as ever you can, +to-day, and I’ll see what I can do for you on my return. What is your +other name, Hannah?” + +“Stubbs, Sir! I’m a Shropshire girl--was raised there, and never left +the village I was born in till mother sent me to Lunnon. Lor! how I +wish she ’adn’t! Father is that hard on me, and what they’ll say if +I’m sent back in disgrace--Mother and Joe and all--I’m sure I don’t +know!” + +“Who is Joe?” asked the Professor, kindly, “your brother?” + +“No, Sir! My young man.” + +“Your young man! So you have a young man of your own already! And why +did you come out to service, then, Hannah? Why did you not marry Joe +instead?” + +The girl gave a conscious grin as she replied: + +“_We_ was willing enough, Sir, but mother wouldn’t hear on’t. She said +Joe hadn’t enough to keep hisself, let alone me, and that a few years’ +service would do me all the good in the world. But it seems ’ard for +to leave ’ome and all.” + +“Never mind, Hannah! I daresay your mother knows best, and the time +will pass quicker than you imagine. Any way I shall not forget to +speak for you to Mrs. Battleby, so good-morning!” And Ricardo went on +his way, smiling slightly to himself. + +Since the fatal night when his hand had sent the woman he loved best +to her last account, Ricardo had felt very tenderly towards all women, +for her sake. He was so dreadfully afraid of making another mistake +about them. He thought more of this shapeless, ungainly girl as he +took his walk in the Park, than he could have believed possible--not +of her ugliness, nor awkwardness, nor little troubles--but of those +mysterious wonderful eyes of which she did not seem conscious, but +which looked as if they saw that which was invisible to every one +else. How strange that such eyes--so the Professor thought--should be +set in so rough a face and figure; eyes, which the greatest beauty in +the land might have envied, combined with a shape which no decent +housemaid would have cared to exhibit. + +If Hannah’s eyes had not been so mystical in appearance, would the +Signor have borne her ordinary troubles so faithfully in mind, and +spoken with Mrs. Battleby about their alleviation on the first +opportunity? It is doubtful! Man, however supine, is apt to be led by +his fancy. Any way, when his landlady made her appearance with his +evening meal, he opened the subject at once. + +“Mrs. Battleby, my good friend, I want to speak with you, on behalf of +your little maid, Hannah! How has she offended you? Is she very +stupid, very clumsy, very impertinent? Why do you propose to send her +back to her good mother, who will doubtless be unpleasantly +disappointed to see her again.” + +“Has Hannah presumed to complain of me to you, Sig-nor?” demanded the +landlady, becoming instantly stiff and rigid with indignation. + +“O! no, indeed, but I take interest in the troubles of the young. We +have all been young, Mrs. Battleby, and all been ignorant and wilful +and done silly things. I saw this young girl weeping this morning and +stopped to ask her the reason, and all she said was, that you intended +to send her home again and she feared her people would be very angry +with her.” + +“If you’ll excuse me taking a seat, for them stairs try my breath +dreadful,” said Mrs. Battleby, as she plumped herself down on one of +the Professor’s chairs, “I’ll tell you all about it. Send ’er ’ome +indeed! I should think I would, and it’s the last kind act I’ll do for +Mary Stubbs as long as I live. We was neighbours-like, Sig-nor, this +gal’s mother and I, and so when she arsked me to take ’er gal and give +’er a trial, I said ‘Yes’, never thinking, may the Lord forgive ’er, +as Mary Stubbs would ’ave put off a daft gal on me as trusted ’er.” + +“Is poor Hannah really daft, whatever that may mean?” asked Ricardo. + +“And that she is, Sig-nor, and ought to be in the Hidiot Hasylum, if +all had their doo. Why! she’s done nothing since she come here, but +’op about after the tables and chairs.” + +“Hop about after the tables and chairs?” echoed the Professor, with +open eyes. + +“It’s God’s truth Sig-nor, and nothing else. I’ve seen the kitchen +table, which it must weigh ’alf a ton, waltz after that gal all over +the kitchen, and she’ll set the cups and saucers and glasses spinning +like tops. And then when I remonstrances with ’er, she’ll cry like a +ninny and say she’s not done nothing. The way in which she’s broke +china since she’s bin in this ’ouse is wicked. And I won’t stand it no +longer--that’s flat, for if she don’t do it, why, the Devil do, and +’ome she must go!” + +“But, Mrs. Battleby, one moment! I do not quite understand you. If +Hannah does not make the furniture dance, who does?” + +“That is what I want to know, Sig-nor! But ’ow the gal moves a heavy +table is beyond me. Nor ’ow she makes the glasses spin! But if I +remonstrances with ’er, as I said before, she do nothing but cry and +say ’tain’t ’er fault, which is all nonsense. And so back she goes to +Settlefield, as soon as I’ve got some one to take ’er place!” + +“It is very curious,” remarked the Professor, pensively, “and there +must be some solution of the problem. Do you think that Hannah would +make the table dance for me, Mrs. Battleby?” + +“Lor, Sig-nor! don’t you go a tempting of Providence! Let the gal and +’er tricks alone!” + +“But I am interested in what you have told me, from a scientific point +of view! There may be a reason for it all, and if so, I should like to +find it out. Would you have any objection to my seeing Hannah by +herself this evening, and questioning her on the subject?” + +“Dear me, no, Sig-nor--not if you’ll take the trouble! But you won’t +get nothing for your pains. She’s just obstinate, that gal is, and +cries if you hold up your little finger at her!” + +“Does she suit you in other respects, Mrs. Battleby?” + +“O! she ain’t no better nor wuss than others. Them gals are all +alike--a set of sloppy, dirty, careless ’ussies, as don’t care if you +go to gaol next week all along of their breakages and lies. In course +you can interlude Hannah whenever you choose, Sig-nor. I’ll send ’er +up to clear as soon as you’ve ’ad your tea, and then you can ’ave a +talk with ’er. But you won’t make nothink out of it, them’s my words! +But that’s the Doctor’s knock, as sure as sure! Well! he is a good +friend to you, Sig-nor, and no mistake!” + +“Yes! I am glad he has come! I hardly expected him after last night,” +replied the Professor, who was quite excited at his new thoughts +regarding Hannah Stubbs. + +Karl Steinberg entered the room with an outstretched hand, as the +landlady curtsied and disappeared. + +“Forgive me, Ricardo!” he exclaimed; “I was a fool last night, and +worse than that, too great a coward to confess it! I was horribly +nervous and alarmed, but thinking the matter over has made me see the +folly of which I was guilty. But I am convinced, that if you were, as +you declared yourself to be (and I cannot doubt your word), in the +centre of the floor, there was some force ulterior to my own in that +little room last night, and I will not rest till I have found out the +truth. Will you re-admit me to your séances? Will you forgive my +first alarm, and let me pursue the study of the Occult with you?” + +“My dear Karl!” exclaimed Ricardo, heartily shaking his proffered +hand, “nothing would give me greater pleasure. But if we are to go in +for these researches together, and in earnest, we must try and think +of some plausible excuse for our spending our nights together, as I +find my landlady, Mrs. Battleby, is much opposed to anything that she +cannot understand. We have just been holding a conversation respecting +her maid-of-all-work, Hannah Stubbs.” + +Ricardo then went into the subject of his talk with Mrs. Battleby at +some length, and was pleased to see the interest which it excited in +Doctor Steinberg. + +“Have the girl up by all means,” he said eagerly, “she may be what I +have heard you call a physical medium, and we may evolve great things +from her. She is countrified and stupid, you say! She probably in that +case knows nothing of her own powers, and is frightened at the effects +which she produces. I saw her last evening, did I not? She is just an +animal, with grand vitality and perhaps magnetism--with any amount of +bodily strength, and no brain. Have her up, Ricardo, by all means, and +let us see something of these mysterious powers of hers.” + +“If she will display them,” replied his friend, as he rang the bell. + +Hannah appeared, looking as stolid as before, but with a faint smile +for the gentleman who had promised to intercede for her. + +“Shut the door, Hannah, and sit down. I want to have a little talk +with you,” commenced the Professor, gently, “I have been having a few +words with Mrs. Battleby, and she says the only fault she has to find +with you is that you can make the chairs and tables dance. Will you +try and make them dance now, that my friend and I may see?” + +The girl looked startled and edged towards the wall as if she wished +to avoid contact with any of the furniture of the room. + +“O! no, Sir, please don’t arsk me,” she said in a scared voice, as she +glanced timidly in the direction of the tea-table, “’tain’t my fault +indeed, I’ve told the missus that over and over again. I don’t know +nothink about it, and I wish they wouldn’t come after me--I do +indeed!” + +All this while, with her skirts gathered up tightly in her hand, +Hannah was looking fearfully in the direction of the table, which now +commenced slowly, but perceptibly, to move towards her. + +“O! it’s a’coming,” she screamed. “O! stop it, Sir, do, for the Lord’s +sake! What do it want with me? I ain’t got nothing to say to it! O my! +O my!” + +Meanwhile the table had advanced to her until its edge was against her +body. + +“Do you see that, Steinberg?” observed Ricardo, “The furniture has +actually moved without contact. This is very marvellous!” + +“Go away! go away!” cried Hannah, as she kicked at the legs of the +table which was now pressing her against the wall. “O! Sir, please +don’t go to tell the missus, for it never was so bad as this +before--never!” + +“By Jove! look there!” exclaimed the Doctor, as a sound drew their +attention in another direction, and they turned to see the Professor’s +rocking chair, quietly rocking by itself in the corner of the room. + +“I never saw such a thing in my life before,” said Ricardo. +“Steinberg, this is a very wonderful girl. We must try to keep her to +ourselves, at all events until we have solved the reason of her +powers.” + +Then he turned to Hannah, who presented a ludicrous spectacle, +squeezed up in a corner of the room by the table, and crying loudly +without any means of drying her eyes. + +“Stop that noise, my dear girl, do!” he said. “Don’t be afraid! No one +shall hurt you, and you cannot suppose that a table could! But my +friend and I are very much interested in this strange power of yours, +and would like to see some more of it. I shall ask Mrs. Battleby to +let you come up here in the evenings when she does not require your +services, and we will see that you are rewarded for your trouble. You +are not afraid of Doctor Steinberg and me, are you?” + +“O! no, Sir--only afeared of the tables and things as will foller me +about whether I will or no! And it’s not the fust time as the beastly +things ’ave got me into trouble, neither!” + +“O! it’s not the first time, is it, Hannah?” inquired Steinberg, “and +what harm did they do you before, my girl!” + +“Harm enough,” replied Hannah, blubbering, “they parted my Joe and me! +His family was so nasty about it! They said they wouldn’t ’ave their +furniture broken for nothing, else maybe Joe and me could ’ave lived +along of ’is mother, and I’d never gone to service at all!” + +“Well! never mind, Hannah! If Joe is a wise young man, he will come +after you and marry you, whether his tables dance or not. And, +meanwhile, my friend and I would like to see all that you can do!” + +“I can’t do nothing, Sir!” + +“Then who is it that does it?” + +“Ah! that I can’t tell you,--only that it’s always been the same with +me from a child! I’ve had many a beating for it! I often wish I’d been +dead afore they’ve come after me!” + +“What! the tables and chairs?” + +“Yes, Sir! and other things as well--shadders and the like, as come +round me of nights, and woices as talk to me. I ’ates them woices more +than anythink, for Mrs. Brushwood (that’s Joe’s mother, please, Sir), +it was all along of ’er ’earing one, one day, as made the rumpus +between us. And then mother said I must go to service and shake it +off. But they’ve been just as bad here as in Settlefield.” + +“Well, Hannah, will you take my advice?” said the Professor, “trust +yourself to the Doctor and me and we’ll cure you of this nonsense. +It’s all due to your health, you know!” + +“Thank ye, Sir, but I can’t take no pills, please! Mother, she’s tried +’em with me scores of times but they always sticks in my throat till I +retches ’em up again. Nor I can’t swaller jalap. It goes against my +stummick. But anything else, gentlemen----” + +“Be easy, Hannah, we will not ask you to take either pills, or jalap. +All we want is an hour or two of your time now and then! But I will +arrange all that with Mrs. Battleby.” + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + +As the girl left the room, scrambling sideways, much after the +manner of a crab, and glancing behind her the while, as if she feared +the table might take a fancy to follow her downstairs, the two men +looked to each other and smiled. + +“I fancy you have lit on a gold mine there, Ricardo,” said the Doctor, +“there is something very marvellous about that girl. She must be a +well of magnetism. I never saw such an effect produced upon inanimate +objects before. Do you think there can be any trickery about it? These +brainless creatures are sometimes uncommonly cunning.” + +The Professor was leaning back in his chair thoughtfully, supporting +his chin on his hand. + +“I don’t know _what_ to think about it,” he said at length, “but I am +determined to see more of her powers. Now, the question is, what +excuse can we make to Mrs. Battleby for asking this girl to give us a +few hours of her time, every now and then.” + +“The landlady has seen something of it already, I think you told me, +and does not approve of the proceedings.” + +“Very strongly disapproves of them! Declares that Hannah must go back +to her people in the country--that she is a fool, or a cunning +trickster, or the Devil is in the whole concern.” + +“And I am much of Mrs. Battleby’s opinion,” remarked Steinberg. + +“What! that it is done by agency of the Devil? Nonsense! man, +nonsense! If the Devil was all that was required to produce such +marvels, we should all do the same. No! no! the girl is a medium--but +of what kind, I am as yet unable to determine.” + +“I’ll tell you what we can say,” interposed the Doctor, “if the +landlady is opposed to the girl’s practices, she will not be sorry to +have them cured. Tell her that I attribute the whole business to the +state of Hannah’s nerves--that she is a victim to what we call +hysteria--and that if she will allow me to treat her for the +complaint, I will undertake to cure her. And I say it with truth, +Ricardo, for should she be shamming, I will soon find it out, and +expose her; and should she be as you conclude, a medium, the exercise +of her powers will be a drain upon her system, and prevent the +exhibition of them elsewhere.” + +“I believe you are right, Steinberg, but where have you derived so +much knowledge about media and their powers, considering that until +this evening, you have refused to approach the subject of Spiritualism +at all.” + +“I have declined to join in the pursuit of it, my friend, you mean. +You cannot suppose that I have not heard, nor conceived some interest +in, a matter which half the world is talking of to-day. But what I +have read has predisposed me against it. I feel that it is fraught +with more danger than good. For a sensitive man like yourself, I am +sure it might, under certain circumstances, be _very_ dangerous. That +is one reason that I have determined to join you in your studies. If +there is any fear of harm, I will share it with you. What you said +last night concerning your desire to open out a communication with +your late wife, set me thinking deeply. If you draw her spirit back to +earth, how can you tell that it will be for her good, or yours--how +can you tell, indeed, that it is her spirit or that of some wandering +Elemental (as you called them yesterday) who may take her shape? This +is the danger I would share with you! If, on the other hand, good and +pure spirits can return to earth, I am anxious to have the privilege +of speaking to them. Do you understand my motives now?” + +“Perfectly,” said the Professor, grasping his hand. “And now for Mrs. +Battleby.” + +But they found the landlady rather hard of conviction. In the first +place she did not believe the phenomena were due to anything but +Hannah’s “cussedness”, and if the gentlemen only knew as much of gals +as she did, they would think the same; “wants to shirk ’er work, +that’s what she do, and leave all the washin’ up and dirty work to ’er +missus”; and in the second, she did not see how she could afford to +spare her for two or three evenings a week, when there was more work +than they could get through together now. + +“What should I want to ’ave ’er cured for?” she demanded, “it’ll be +better and cheaper for me to send the ’ussy ’ome to ’er mother, who +ought to be ashamed for having sent ’er my way at all, than to keep +’er here, a’worritin’ me day and night, and spending ’alf ’er time up +with you gentlemen. Which I’m much obliged, I’m sure, and so Hannah +ought to be, for your kind intentions, but in my opinion, she ain’t +worth curing!” + +The Professor looked in despair at the Doctor, and Steinberg gallantly +came to the rescue. + +“You forget, my dear Mrs. Battleby,” he commenced softly, “that I, as +a medical man, take the greatest interest in a case like this. In +fact, it is not too much to say that I would pay a good deal to keep +Hannah Stubbs under my own eye for a few months. If you are determined +to part with her, of course there is nothing more to be said about it, +but I shall endeavour, in that case, to re-engage her for some of my +brother professionals. But I thought I might manage to see her here +and more conveniently, and benefit you a little into the bargain. +Now--supposing you agree to let Hannah remain under your protection, +what would be the cost of having in a woman to look after the house +during your possible absence, and do her work, every evening for a +couple of hours?” + +“I don’t know, I’m sure, Sir,” replied the landlady with a sniff, for +she did not like the interest being excited by “that ’ussy Hannah”, +“there’s more things to be considered than the work. I may not care, +nor more I don’t, to ’ave a stranger a’messing over my property, and +a’picking up everything as she can lay ’er ’ands on whilst I’m away.” + +“I see!” replied the Doctor, thoughtfully, “then name your own +conditions, Mrs. Battleby, and I will see if I can agree to them.” + +“I don’t know as I have any conditions to name, Sir,” said the woman, +still more ruffled, “the gal’s my servant, and can’t leave me any’ow +under ’er month, and me without ’elp of any kind. But if you wants to +’ave ’er up here of an evening, and physic ’er and all that sort of +thing, why I don’t like to refuse a offer made in kindness, and +p’r’aps you wouldn’t consider as to pay ’er wages would be too much +compensation for all the trouble and ill-convenience it’ll put me to.” + +“Perhaps not!” replied Steinberg, who had taken upon himself to be +spokesman on the occasion, “but what are her wages?” + +“Ten poun’ a year, and heverythink found!” + +“Now, look here, Mrs. Battleby,” continued the Doctor, “as this is a +case which promises to afford me some interest and to be +phenomenal----” + +“Lor! is it raly?” exclaimed the landlady. “I didn’t think the pore +gal was as bad as that!” + +“----I am willing to pay you ten shillings a week so long as we shall +require her services--I mean, until I shall have cured her complaint, +or pronounced it incurable! We doctors are always ready to pay for our +little fads, you know!” + +“And ’andsomely, too, I’m sure, Sir,” exclaimed Mrs. Battleby, now +wreathed in smiles at the prospect of getting her drudge for nothing, +“and I gives my full permission for Hannah to attend on you here +hevery evening, if so be you wishes it!” + +“O! no! thank you! Three times a week will be quite sufficient, if you +will give us the whole evening from after tea to supper. I am so often +with my friend Signor Ricardo, that it will be more convenient for me +to operate on her here, than at the hospital.” + +“O! lor, Sir, you’re never a’going to cut up the pore gal, sure-ly!” + +“No! no! indeed! Make your mind easy, Mrs. Battleby! I intend to treat +her by an entirely new process which, if I am not mistaken, will have +an almost immediate effect in preventing those nervous tremors which +seem to assail her.” + +“O! Sir, if you’ll cure ’er of them, I shall be thankful, for she must +shake like an aspen leaf. I found ’er in the kitchen jest now, +a’laying with ’er arms over the table trying to keep it down, and it +was bumping under ’er as if it ’ad gone mad!” + +“Ah! Electricity does wonders in these days, you know, Mrs. Battleby, +and I promise Hannah shall be quite herself again in a short time.” + +“And now, my dear Professor,” he said, as the landlady took her +departure, “having settled Mrs. Battleby, what means shall we try by +which to make the girl hold her tongue downstairs, about anything she +may see or hear whilst with us?” + +“These means,” replied Ricardo, as he chinked the loose coins in his +pocket. + +“They do not always answer,” said his friend, “and this seems a very +simple and innocent sort of girl, who might be terrified out of her +life if she guessed the real reason of our getting her to sit with us. +I think it would be better to persuade her that she has a species of +St. Vitus’s dance, and that it will get worse and worse unless I cure +it in time. I’ll tell her, too, that she must be a little worse before +she’s better, and, between the dread of being sent home again and the +dread of becoming incapacitated for work, I think we shall manage to +make her hold her tongue.” + +“I shall leave that part of the business to you,” said Ricardo. “You +are more used to wheedle the ladies than I am. You doctors are +terrible fellows! You keep a dozen weapons in your pocket for +assuaging feminine fears, but I fancy you’ll have to use them all upon +poor Hannah.” + +The upshot proved that the Professor was right. The friends agreed to +meet again upon the following evening, when Hannah was summoned as +soon as she had cleared away their tea, and introduced to their +designs. + +At first the case seemed hopeless. Nothing would induce the girl to +permit her powers to be used as a proof of what she could do. She +declared that she was too much frightened of herself--that her one +desire was to prevent such incomprehensible things occurring--and that +she was sure, like Mrs. Battleby, that the Devil was in it, and +prepared to drag her down to destruction. + +Her tears and entreaties were pitiable to see and listen to, and for a +while, the men thought their endeavours had been in vain. But when she +was a little quieter, the Doctor took her in hand, and having +commenced his practice by the administration of a composing draught, +he explained to her, after his own fashion, that he and his friend +only meant kindness by her, and wanted to cure the very things of +which she complained. If she would place herself under their guidance, +he said, he would guarantee to send her back to her family, quite +cured of the annoyance she objected to. + +Hannah opened her beautiful eyes wide, and listened. To be cured meant +to be in favour again with Joe’s people, and perhaps to become Joe’s +wife much sooner than she anticipated. + +“But how can you cure me, Sir?” she asked, wonderingly. “It’s summat +in my fingers as makes the things dance! I don’t do nothing, Sir, I +assures you, and I ’ates it, I do, like cold pison.” + +“Then you’ll be all the better pleased to get rid of it, Hannah,” he +replied, “but that is quite impossible unless you will give way to the +feeling at first, and let me see just how it acts. Now! don’t be +frightened when you see the articles approach you! The Professor and I +do not scream and run away. Stay by us, and let them do as they +choose!” + +“But I can’t, Sir,” cried the girl, breathlessly, as she attempted to +evade the close attentions of an arm-chair, “they frightens me out of +my wits. I wonder whatever I’ve done that dumb brutes won’t leave me +alone.” + +But though Hannah, with the assistance of her new friends, managed to +set all the furniture in the room spinning, without being more alarmed +than was evinced by her gasping and screaming and clutching either one +or other of them by the arm, nothing would induce her to enter the +séance room. As soon as the door was opened and she saw the black +funereal hangings, she gave a shriek, and fell backwards into the +Doctor’s arms. + +“In there?” she screamed, “but what for? I’ve never been in sich a +dark ’ole in all my life! And what do you want to do with me there? +Are you going to cut me up? O! Mrs. Battleby! Mrs. Battleby!” + +Her yells alarmed the two scientists, who feared all their plans would +be knocked on the head by an untimely irruption on the part of the +landlady. So they slammed the door to, and pulled Hannah into the +lighted room again, and tried to compose her by slapping her on the +back and addressing her with soothing words. + +The girl lay in the arm-chair in which they had placed her, seemingly +more dead than alive. Fearing that the shock had really injured her, +they were just about to call for help, when a gruff, manly voice spoke +at a distance of two or three feet above her head. + +“Don’t be fools! Leave her alone! She’ll go into the cabinet when I +tell her to do so.” + +The Professor and the Doctor looked around them in amazement. Who had +addressed them? The room was empty. Their faces now began to look +scared at this new Mystery, until Steinberg whispered to his friend, + +“She spoke to us last evening of ‘Voices.’ This must be one of them! I +am certain it did not emanate from her own lips. Ricardo, this is +better than I anticipated! Light is already breaking through the +darkness. Depend upon it, this girl has been a medium for years, +without knowing it, and we shall be the means of developing her occult +faculties. Let us interrogate our unknown ally. Are you a friend?” he +continued, addressing the invisible owner of the voice, “will you tell +us your name? Are we doing right? Will you help us in our researches?” + +But to these questions there came no reply. Hannah seemed to be +sleeping in the chair, but presently she rose to her feet and with a +deep sigh, as though she was doing something against her own +inclination, staggered into the dark séance room, and seated herself +upon the cushions. + +“Shall we follow her?” demanded Steinberg of Ricardo. + +“I suppose so! I do not know what to think. This is a totally new +experience to me!” + +Notwithstanding they did follow the girl, whom they found apparently +sleeping on the floor, her figure being thrown across the cushions. +Something awed them to that extent, that they did not dare close the +door and shut out all the light, but left it slightly ajar, so that a +ray from the gas lamp was thrown like a bar of pale gold into the +gloomy room. + +Then they crept up to Hannah’s side, expecting they knew not what, and +bent over her prostrate form. + +“What will happen next?” said Steinberg. + +“We must wait and see!” replied Ricardo. + +“You won’t have to wait long!” exclaimed the same voice which had +addressed them before, “didn’t I tell you that when I chose the medium +would enter the séance room?” + +“She _is_ a medium, then?” said the Professor. + +“Rather! One of the finest mediums this world has ever produced. But +you must be careful how you use her! She will assimilate with any +spirit that possesses her!” + +“Are we doing right?” demanded the Doctor, “will our curiosity injure +this girl?” + +“I will take care that you do not injure her! That is what I am here +for.” + +“Who are you?” + +“The guiding control of this medium.” + +“I mean, who were you, when you lived upon this earth? Or did you ever +live here?” + +“Did I ever live here? How do you suppose I found my way back if I had +never lived here? Of course I did. But as for your other question, I +don’t see that it is any concern of yours. I might deceive you so +easily, that I had better begin by telling you the truth, and that is +that I have no intention you shall know my real name. You can call me +James.” + +“Will you tell us, then, why you come to us?” + +“I did not come to you! I accompanied my medium. I led her to you. I +have long wished to place her suitably, and I think you will treat her +gently and use her well.” + +“I hope we may. We are both much interested in the Science of +Spiritualism, and want to find out all about it. Do you think we shall +succeed?” + +“Everyone would succeed who put a great discovery for the good of +mankind in the first place, and their own selfish interests in the +second.” + +“Are our desires selfish?” + +“I fear they will become so, if you do not put a check upon them.” + +“Teach us how to pursue our inquiries,” said Steinberg. + +“Show me my Leonora!” cried the Professor. + +“There it begins, you see,” replied the Voice. “The second speaker +wants to see his wife again, never mind at what cost or risk to +others. Was I not right in saying your desires would become selfish? +It has not taken long either!” + +“But, Spirit (if you are a Spirit),” exclaimed Ricardo, “you must read +my thoughts and know what prompted my request. Surely nothing could be +more innocent than the desire of a husband to see his wife again?” + +“I am not sure of that!” replied the Voice, “however, if you +persevere, I have no doubt that your wish will be gratified. It is +impossible to credit what would occur, if people would only have the +patience to wait for it.” + +“I could have the patience to wait for ages if necessary,” said the +poor Professor. + +“You will not have to wait so long as that,” said the Voice, “she is +nearer to you than you think.” + +Whilst Ricardo remained silent under this unexpected joy, Steinberg +put a few questions to the influence that was controlling the medium. + +“Will you answer me a few questions, James?” + +“Certainly! If I am able.” + +“Are you speaking to us in your own voice--I mean, have you a throat +with gullet and larynx fully formed of your own?” + +“No! I am talking now through the medium, that is, I am using her +vocal organs--perhaps you perceive the difference in my voice. When I +spoke to you in the other room, I had materialised a gullet and larynx +of my own, but I could not sustain a lengthened conversation through +them!” + +“Will Hannah know what has happened to her, when she awakes?” + +“No, and I beg you will not tell her. She is very ignorant and simple, +and the effect might be harmful. Let her believe that she has merely +been to sleep. And now I have used her long enough for the first time +and had better go. Do not try to rouse her. Let her wake of herself. +She will be hysterical, but the Doctor will know how to deal with +that. Good evening!” + +And here the Voice ceased. Though they addressed it several times, no +sound or sign of any kind came through Hannah. She slept on like an +infant, while the two men whispered to one another. + +“Wonderful! Marvellous! I could not have believed such a thing, unless +I had heard it myself! What a grand prospect lies before us! How glad +I am, Ricardo, that I overcame my cowardly fears, and agreed to join +you in searching out these mysteries!” + +“The Voice said that Leonora was near me! I feel sure that before long +I shall see her again, and all my cruel doubts will be set at rest,” +said Ricardo, with suppressed emotion. + +“Yes! yes! never fear. We shall see all who have preceded us!” replied +Steinberg, “and through the agency of this uncouth, barbaric girl. It +is almost too wonderful for belief.” + +At this juncture, Hannah roused herself, and gave a shriek at feeling +the darkness by which she was surrounded. + +“O! lor! O! my! Where am I? O! wot is all this about? O! wot ’ave you +bin a’doing of with me? O! please, Sirs, take me out of this ’ole, for +if there is one thing which I can’t a’bear, it is to be in the dark. +It’s ’orrible!” + +She struggled to her feet and stumbling to the door, threw it wide +open, admitting a full light into the séance chamber. Then she +glanced round at the black hangings and with another violent shriek, +rushed helter-skelter into the adjoining apartment, and fell into a +chair, kicking her huge feet against the floor in a kind of Devil’s +tattoo. + +“My dear girl! my dear Hannah! pray compose yourself! Nothing is +wrong,” exclaimed the Professor, as he patted her kindly on the head. +“You’ve had a nice little sleep. The Doctor gave you some medicine for +the purpose, because he thought it would do you good. You’d rather go +to sleep for a little while than take bitter physic, wouldn’t you, +Hannah?” + +“P’r’aps Sir, but I do feel so queer-like, as if my legs was all +bruised. And my eyes seems weighted, as if I had lead on ’em. It’s a +rummy sorter sleep I’ve had, and I think I’ll go downstairs and git +into bed, for I’ve got no use of my legs at all.” + +“Good-night, Hannah! You won’t mind the Doctor’s medicine so much next +time, will you?” + +“I’m sure I don’t know, Sir!” said the girl drowsily, as she passed +the threshold, but the next minute she had started backwards with +another scream. + +“Why! what’s the matter now?” cried the men simultaneously. + +Hannah was standing near the door with her hand pressed against her +heart. + +“O! lawks! there’s a lady standing on the landing a’waiting for +me--sich a ’ansome lady, with a voil”--(so Hannah pronounced +“veil”)--“over her face. O! lor! I shall never be able to git to bed +to-night!” + +“A lady!” exclaimed Ricardo, eagerly, “what was she like, Hannah?” + +“O! I’m sure I don’t know,” replied the girl, testily, “I only wish +she wouldn’t come bothering me like that, jist when I was a’going to +my bed. No! I don’t know nuffin about her, Sir, nor don’t want to +either, a nasty black-eyed creetur, with a beastly voil. Here! let me +go, please, Sir, or I’ll never git downstairs to-night.” + +And so she left the mystified men to themselves. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + +The Professor and the Doctor sat up late that night, talking over +the wonders they had experienced. + +“Do you believe that the spirits of the dead can return to earth +_now?_” demanded Ricardo of his friend. + +“I am hardly prepared to answer you,” replied Steinberg. “Certainly, +the Voice we heard to-night was very marvellous. I am persuaded that, +in normal circumstances, such a gruff, bass voice could not proceed +from the chest of a woman. But there have been abnormal cases of the +kind, therefore it is not impossible!” + +“Good Heavens! Do you mean to suggest that this girl is tricking us?” + +“Not exactly. We have had no proofs of it, still, in an investigation +of this sort, one needs to be very careful. We must try and think of +some test by which we should render it impossible for Hannah to speak +whilst under trance.” + +“That will be difficult!” said Ricardo. + +“But feasible,” replied his companion, “if necessary, we must apply a +gag whilst she is unconscious. Nothing short of that, or something +equally efficacious, will make me give undoubted testimony to the +honesty of her mediumship.” + +“My books tell me that such stringent tests are very apt to prevent +all spiritual manifestations whatever,” said the Professor, with a +sigh. + +“Then I should not believe in the manifestations, Ricardo! True spirit +intercourse could not possibly be prevented by earthly means. Have we +not heard of a heavy table with people seated on it, being lifted by +invisible force, and transported to another part of the room? If +spirits can accomplish that, they can speak through a gag. Did not +‘James’ tell us that, when we first heard him, he was speaking with a +materialised gullet and thorax? If he will speak through them again if +only a couple of words, whilst Hannah is gagged, I will not doubt her +honesty. But in any circumstances, it is wonderful--wonderful!” + +The two men were so anxious to pursue their researches, that they +would have gladly asked for Hannah’s services on the following day, +but were afraid of raising Mrs. Battleby’s suspicions by displaying +too much eagerness to effect her cure. On the third evening, however, +the landlady was all smiles and assurances that the girl was ready to +wait upon them, but when the time came for her appearance Hannah +Stubbs was nowhere to be found. Mrs. Battleby screamed her name from +basement to attic, but neither sight nor sound rewarded her assiduity. +The Professor and the Doctor had begun to fear lest their medium +should have run away from them altogether, when Mrs. Battleby +discovered her in her own bedroom, which was next the cellar, with her +head wrapped up in the bedclothes, lest she should hear them calling +for her. + +“Well, of all the ungrateful, bad-natured ’ussies as ever I see, if +you’re not the wust,” cried the landlady, as she seized hold of her +arm and wrenched her from under the bedclothes. “Wot right ’ave you, I +should like to know, to go to bed at this time of day, and not a +single cup nor saucer washed up yet? Do you think I keep you to look +at, you ugly, squab-faced creetur? Get up do, at once, and don’t keep +the gentlemen waiting a minute longer!” + +But Hannah was sullen. She only shook herself free of Mrs. Battleby’s +grasp, and sat on the side of the bed, with her lips stuck out like +those of a negress. + +“Now then,” exclaimed her mistress, “wot’s this for, I’d like to know! +If the Doctor is good enough to try and cure you (which I’m sure, I +wonders he takes the trouble to do it), the least thing you can do in +return, is to be grateful.” + +“Well! then, I ain’t,” replied the girl, “I’d rather wash up dishes or +scrub floors a ’undred times over, than be physicked. I never could +abear it! It give me a ’eadache last time, and I don’t want no more of +it.” + +But Mrs. Battleby had become reconciled to the arrangement, and had no +intention of breaking it. She found that she got quite as much work +out of Hannah as before, and she was not going to let the chance of +keeping her at the Professor’s expense, slip. + +“Well! then,” she commenced, “you’ll do as you’re told, Hannah Stubbs, +or back you goes to Settlefield to-morrer, and with sich a character +at your back as you won’t easy get rid of! You’ll please to remember +that whilst you’re here you’re my servant, and bound to do my bidding, +and I orders you to smooth your ’air, and go up to the gentlemen at +onst, as they’re ready and waiting for you.” + +Hannah burst into tears and muttered something about not having come +out to service to be cut up, or pisened, just as the missus chose, but +she crawled upstairs after a while, all the same, and presented +herself at the door of the Professor’s room, where she clung to the +lintel as if she dared advance no further. + +“Good evening, my dear,” said the Professor, kindly, “you are rather +late. Did not you remember that you were to see Doctor Steinberg again +to-night?” + +“I don’t want to be doctored,” said the girl, in the same tone she had +used downstairs, “it don’t do me no good, it makes me wuss!” + +“You have not tried it long enough to know if it will do you any +good,” replied Steinberg. + +“And what do you mean by its making you worse?” interposed Ricardo, +“how can it make you worse, Hannah?” + +“Well, then, it do, a deal,” said the girl. “I’ve been worritted out +of my life since I been here, night afore last. That there lady as I +met on the stairs has follered me like my shadder. She ain’t no good, +I know, and she gives me the creeps, and if that’s wot the physic’s +going to do for me, I’d rayther leave it alone.” + +“No! no! no! it was not the medicine,” said the Doctor, quickly. “You +would have been much worse without it, Hannah! The lady and everybody +who worries you will soon disappear, if you will go on with my cure.” + +“Come in and sit down, and tell us all about the lady,” exclaimed +Ricardo, eagerly. “There’s plenty of nice hot tea left in the teapot, +and here is some buttered cake! Sit down beside me, Hannah, and have +some tea, and whilst you are taking it, we will hear all about this +tiresome lady.” + +Hannah’s eyes looked greedy, and her big mouth commenced to work in +anticipation. She was thoroughly sensual, and the good things before +her appealed to her senses much more than the honour of being asked to +take a chair in the presence of gentlemen. + +She sidled into a seat next the Professor, and having drunk a large +cup of tea, found her tongue and her presence of mind, simultaneously. + +“Well! Sir, it’s this way,” she commenced, “I’ve been in the ’abit, as +I told you and this gennelman, of seeing shadders, and ’earing woices +and sich-like ever since I was a kiddy, but I don’t dare say nothing +about them at ’ome, cos they do go on so dreadful about it, I’m quite +afeared on ’em. But I haven’t often seen ’em so distinct-like as since +I’ve been ’ere, and they scare me mortal. The other evening I seen +that lady I spoke of, on the landing, and blest if she ain’t been to +my bed each night since, and looking at me terrible with ’er big, +black eyes through ’er voil.” + +“Big, black eyes,” reiterated the Professor. “O! Hannah! do try to +remember what she was like!” + +“I ain’t no cause to remember, Sir,” replied the girl, “she’s scared +me too much for that! I only wishes as I could forget ’er. She is a +tall lady, and foreign looking, summat like an Injun with a white +skin. She’s got big, black eyes as look you through and through, and a +thin nose, pointed-like, and little white ’ands, O! so small, and long +black ’air ’anging down ’er back, and plaited in a tail. There was a +white voil over her face and ’ead, but I could see ’er quite plain +under it.” + +“And what age--how old should you say she was, Hannah?” asked the +Professor, breathlessly. + +“Well, Sir, I ain’t good at ages, but somwheres between twenty-five +and thirty, I should say she was. She ain’t old anyways, nor yet so +very young, neither!” + +“My God!” cried Ricardo, as he bent his face over his hands. “It is +she--it is my Leonora!” + +“I wish she’d come to you, Sir, then, instead of me!” said Hannah, +stolidly, with her mouth full of buttered crumpet. + +“Ricardo!” exclaimed Steinberg, laying his hand on the shoulder of his +friend. “Calm yourself! Do not be too sanguine! This may be a wrong +description, or if correct, that of another person. Remember, that any +unusual anxiety to see any particular person, is more apt to mar than +to promote your desire.” + +“Yes! yes! I know, but to think she may be so near me!” + +“She has probably, if your own theories are correct, been always near +you, though you have been unable to discern it. We must expect this +girl to see a great deal more than we can ever hope to do.” + +“No doubt, but the description is so like! Those little white hands! +how well I recall them, and the piercing, black eyes. Hannah! did this +lady say nothing to you?” + +“No! Sir, nuffin, she only stood there, pointing up to ’eaven with ’er +’and. Leastways she might ’ave been a’pointing to the hattics, but it +was uppards any ’ow. But I didn’t see no more of ’er than I could +’elp, for I screamed so loud and ’id myself under the bedclothes, and +the next time I looked, she was gone. ‘Thank Goodness!’ said I.” + +“Don’t be afraid of her, she will not hurt you,” said the Professor, +earnestly, “she was a friend of mine, Hannah--a dear friend, and the +next time you see her, if you will only speak to her and ask her name, +I will give you half a sovereign.” + +“’Alf a suvvering,” repeated Hannah, wonderingly, “well, I should like +to ’ave that, I must say, but I can’t do it, Sir,”--shaking her +head--“not for a bag of gold, I couldn’t. I don’t mind a’coming up +here to be physicked by the Doctor, for the missus says if I don’t, +she’ll send me ’ome--but to talk to sperrits and sich-like I can’t. +I’ve never done it, a’cause I’m afeared they’re the Devil, and I can’t +begin it now. I should think they would carry me away if I did!” + +“Still the same old theory,” said Steinberg to Ricardo, in French, +“with rich and poor, wise and ignorant--that the Devil is at the +bottom of everything that promises to let in a little light upon the +other world. Ricardo, if nothing else prompted me to go on with this +inquiry, it would be the hope of finding out if there is a Devil at +all, or whether the evil in our own natures is not sufficient to do +all the mischief in this world, that is attributed to him!” + +During this short colloquy, Hannah Stubbs had displayed no curiosity +by look or word, to learn what was going on, but as Steinberg +concluded, she said, + +“I suppose, Sir, as you’ve been putting some of your physic in my tea, +for I feel uncommon sleepy, jest as I did the other night.” + +The Professor seized upon the opportunity. + +“We thought it would be less unpleasant for you to take in that way, +Hannah,” he commenced, but he spoke to an unconscious hearer. The girl +was already lying back in her chair, without sense or motion. + + +Steinberg hastened to lower the gas. + +“How quickly she has gone off to-night,” he remarked, “I wonder if +this is Leonora’s doing!” + +“No! it is not Leonora’s doing,” echoed the Voice after him, “it is +mine! And now as you want a test, Mr. Doctor, as to whether I speak +through the medium’s organs, or she speaks for me, please fill half a +tumbler with water and pour it into her mouth.” + +“Pour it into her mouth!” exclaimed Steinberg, “but I may choke her!” + +“Just do as you’re told,” said “James,” “and leave the consequences to +me! We’re better doctors than you are, in the Spiritual world. We know +what we’re about and don’t go by guessing. Now, where’s the water?” + +Thus adjured, Ricardo fetched a tumbler of water from the adjoining +room and emptied half the contents into Hannah’s mouth. She did not +seem to resist the action. Her mouth was like a carved piece of +marble. The fluid filled it, but did not attempt to pass down the +throat. + +As the operation was finished, she closed her lips again with a sigh. + +“Well, that’s a strong test,” remarked Steinberg. “If any voice speaks +now, it certainly cannot be that of the medium.” + +“O! you think that, do you?” almost immediately exclaimed the Voice, +which they now called “James”, “well, then, who am I?” + +“That is just what we are trying to find out, James,” replied Ricardo. +“You are certainly not a mortal. Are you the spirit of a dead person, +or an emissary of the Devil? Tell us the truth.” + +“I am certainly not an emissary of the Devil, who never existed except +in your own bad thoughts,” replied James. “When people do wrong, they +say they were tempted of the Devil. That’s only an excuse for not +confessing that they tempted themselves. But I’ve never seen the +Devil, nor seen anybody who has seen him, so I can’t tell you anything +about that. And I am not the spirit of a dead person, for the good +reason that there are no dead persons. Everybody is alive for +evermore, and the only ‘dead ’uns’ are the poor bigotted ignorant +fools who are content to believe any fable that is told them, and +never to find out the truth for themselves.” + +“Then you must not call us ‘dead ’uns,’ James, for we are only too +anxious to find out everything about the next World, and are ready to +believe all that you can teach us!” + +“That’s all very fine, but it’s not my mission to teach you, even if I +could! But I’ve had no opportunities yet of learning even as much as +you have. You’re educated gentlemen, as can read books for yourselves, +but I was only a poor costermonger, as could neither read nor write +whilst on earth, and had to begin at A.B.C. when I came over here.” + +“You speak better than most costermongers,” observed Steinberg. + +“Of course I do! Didn’t I say I had everything to learn when I came to +this world. If you took a costermonger in hand and taught him how to +speak, he’d take after your pronunciation, wouldn’t he? That’s what I +did. It was a gentleman bred that taught me. I guess he hadn’t done as +much as he might for his fellow-creatures when he was here, so they +put him on to my little job.” + +“And why have you come to us then, James?” + +“Didn’t I tell you the other night, that I _hadn’t_ come for you. I +came with this medium. I’ve been attached to her for several years +past.” + +“Did you know her on earth?” + +“No! I passed over years before she was born.” + +“Why did you attach yourself to her then?” + +“Because I was told to do so. Things are very different here from what +you earth-people expect. You do pretty much as you choose in this +world, but you’ll have to obey when you pass over. I was told off to +control this girl I suppose, because she’s likely to encounter the +same sort of troubles as I did. Any way I’m here, and now I must go! +Light the gas and turn the water out of her mouth, that you may be +convinced she is not a fraud, and then lower it again and sit round +the table in the dark, and I’ll see if I can show you something.” + +The Voice ceased, and the men doing as they were desired, were +astonished to receive back the half tumbler of water from Hannah’s +mouth, just as they had placed it there. Steinberg could not conceal +his surprise. He sat gazing at the fluid as if it had been some sacred +water brought from Jordan or Bethsaida, to cleanse him from his sins. + +“Well! I couldn’t have believed it possible unless I had seen it with +my own eyes,” he exclaimed. “Ricardo, this is the most wonderful, +incomprehensible, astonishing----” + +“Yes! my dear friend, but let us lower the light, now, and talk of +these things afterwards. James has promised we shall see something! +Supposing it should be my Leonora!” + +Steinberg turned off the gas altogether, and sat mute as a mouse, till +something should arise from the darkness. Presently, the two friends +perceived a bluish mist, like the smoke from a cigarette, rise from +the other side of the table, and hover between the ceiling and the +floor. + +“It is my wife, I am sure of it!” said the Professor in an agitated +whisper, to the Doctor, “can’t you see the long white veil which +Hannah described to us, and which she was so often in the habit of +wearing. Wait a moment and we shall see her beautiful face peeping +through the mist. How gracefully it rises--just like the swaying +figure of a slender woman, such as she was! And now, cannot you see +two eyes forming in the cloud--Leonora! my Beloved, speak to me, show +yourself to me! O! I am as certain as I am of my own existence, that +it is she!” + +“I cannot say that I see any features,” replied Steinberg, “but the +form is certainly moving, and coming nearer to us! How cold the room +seems to have suddenly become! My hands are like ice! What can be the +reason of it? Surely, not the presence of a gentle woman spirit!” + +“No!” returned the voice of James from out the darkness, “but perhaps +the presence of a gentle spirit man!!! It is I, after all, whom you +mistook for that which you are looking for. So do you mortals +continually deceive yourselves and bring the science of Spiritualism +into disrepute. It was _my_ graceful figure which you saw floating in +mid air, but don’t be disheartened. Remember! if you can see a +costermonger, you can also see a Queen! There is no difference here, +of rank or sex! Good-night! The medium has had enough for this +evening! I am off! Light up the gas and let her come to herself.” + +Hannah did not seem to be half so frightened this time as she had been +on the first occasion, and, after a few yawns, said she was all right +and felt much refreshed by the sleep the Doctor’s physic had given +her. + +“’Tis ever so much better nor jalap,” she said, grinning from ear to +ear, “and so be it brings Joe and I together agin, why, I don’t mind +’ow many evenin’s I comes up ’ere, and goes to sleep.” + +“Have you and your young man quarrelled, then, Hannah?” demanded the +Professor. + +“Not exactly quarrelled, Sir, but we ain’t as we was, not by no manner +of means, and it has cut me up sorely. My mother, she wouldn’t keep +nothin’ to ’erself, but kep’ on tellin’ the neighbours as I see +wisions and things, and then Mrs. Brushwood, she cut up rough and says +as she wouldn’t have no ghosties nor sich-like about ’er ’ouse, and +Joe, he lives on ’is mother, so ’e can’t but side with ’er!” + +“Poor child! And so they turned you out of your home for a power which +is no fault of yours,” said Ricardo. + +“Yes, Sir. Mother, she said I must go, an’ p’r’aps they’d forget it +arter a while. Mother was allays terrible angered if I said I had seen +anythink. But ’twarn’t my fault, for I ’ated it, and do so to this +day, and all I ’opes is, as the Doctor’s physic will cure me of seein’ +’em, so that I may go ’ome to mother and Joe. Good-night, Sir, and +thank ye kindly.” + +As the girl disappeared, Ricardo turned to Steinberg and said, + +“I have half a mind to give it all up, my friend, at all events with +this medium. I am afraid we are not doing right in deceiving her! She +is so simple she takes our word for everything, and all the while +instead of curing her, we are urging on the development of her +magnificent powers.” + +“You may well say ‘magnificent,’” replied the Doctor, “and if you give +them up, I shall call you a fool. Supposing she does not wish to be +developed, what of that, compared to the advancement of Science? She +is like an ignorant person who shrinks from having an operation +performed that will restore him to health and strength. Should I be +justified, because the patient did not understand the value of what I +was doing, in allowing him to have his own way and die? This young +woman has a splendid future. She may be the means of regenerating +mankind. Are we to let the interests of a Joe Brushwood, or her +supposed passion for her bucolic lover stand in her way? Certainly +not! For the sake of the world, you must not let her go. If you do, I +venture to say you will never get such another medium--such an +embodiment of animal health and vigour, combined with the psychic +forces which make such demands upon them. With Hannah Stubbs under our +own eyes, we may be the pioneers of a new Science. Without her we sink +down where we were before, into a slough of uncertainty and disbelief. +My dear friend, whatever you do, do not let your natural goodness of +heart lead you to throw away a grand chance, which may never be +renewed. Besides, do you not depend upon her offices, to restore your +lost wife to you?” + +“Yes! yes!” exclaimed Ricardo, “it is what I have been working and +studying for, for the last ten years. I cannot give up that hope, +whoever’s happiness stands in the way. We must raise Hannah Stubbs +above her low tastes, Steinberg! We must give her something better +instead--a love of the Unseen--an ambition to benefit her +fellow-creatures--a sense of the high duties to which she has been +called.” + +“True!--if we can,” replied the Doctor, thoughtfully; “but she is +terribly ignorant and gross. Fancy! a maid-of-all-work being called to +undertake a Mission--a creature without an idea beyond her breakfast +and her dinner--without an ambition, higher than to become the wife of +a farm labourer! It is enough to make one laugh, until one thinks with +what it is coupled--the Power, denied to so many, to pierce the +Infinite! She is as good and pure a girl as ever breathed, that I +fully believe--and she seems very docile and good-tempered--but she is +a hopeless clod!” + +“No! no! not hopeless,” exclaimed the Professor, quickly, “when once +she is sufficiently developed for good and high spirits to control +her, she must become refined and softened under their influence. If my +Leonora, for example, who came of one of the noblest families in +Italy, should speak through Hannah, the mere contact must intuitively +teach her much that she never knew before.” + +“I expect that your Leonora could teach Hannah much in every way,” +thought Doctor Steinberg to himself, but he did not say so to his +friend. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + +Two mornings after, Ricardo, whilst on his way to his professional +duties, met Mrs. Battleby on the staircase, with a very stiff lip. + +“May I make so bold as to ask, Sig-nor,” she commenced, “’ow long the +Doctor means to be a’curing Hannah Stubbs?” + +Ricardo stopped short, looking much like a school boy detected in some +forbidden pleasure. + +“_How long?_” he stammered. “Really, Mrs. Battleby, that is a strange +question to put to me! How should I know? I am not a medical man, and +if I were, it is a thing on which I should find it impossible to speak +with certainty. A long time, Doctor Steinberg anticipates, I suppose, +since he offered to pay you for the investigation by the week. Surely, +you are not tired of your agreement already.” + +“I didn’t say so, Sig-nor,” replied the landlady, with the same stiff +manner, “but Hannah Stubbs, she is a very young girl, placed under my +charge, as you may say, by ’er mother, and I think it is only proper +as I should know what sort of physic it is, as Doctor Steinberg is +a’treating ’er with!” + +The Professor actually trembled. Had this woman obtained any knowledge +of their proceedings, and was she about to draw back from her bargain, +and forbid the girl visiting them any more? + +“What a very strange lady you are!” he answered (Mrs. Battleby would +have flown in his face, had he called her a “woman”). “I know nothing +of medicines. How can I say if it be one thing or another? You must +ask the Doctor! But it seems to have done Hannah good already. You +should be satisfied with that!” + +“Perhaps I should be, if I were sure of it,” said Mrs. Battleby +oracularly, “but I ain’t sure. I was kep’ up late last night, and she +was sayin’ some very queer things in ’er sleep, as I didn’t quite +like! You gentlemen must be keerful what you do with a young gal like +Hannah, for she ain’t too strong in ’er ’ead, as any one can see.” + +“Of course we will be--we are, very careful,” replied Ricardo, as he +shuffled down the stairs as quickly as he could. + +This unexpected interview with his landlady kept haunting him all day. + +Whilst he was attempting to instil the liquid Italian accents into the +ear of the high-born, but dull Lady Alethea De Ruben, his thoughts +were wandering back to Soho, and he was speculating what Mrs. Battleby +meant by her sudden interest in Hannah Stubbs, and whether she +intended to make a fuss about the girl visiting two men by herself, or +to try and strike a higher bargain for her services. + +Ricardo felt as if he were prepared to pay any price within his means, +sooner than part with Hannah Stubbs, before she had fulfilled his +dearest wishes, by bringing his dead wife back to him. Better a crust +of dry bread and a glass of water, he thought, than to lose the +knowledge which seemed just within his grasp. To know Leonora pure and +good, and that after years of purgatory he might be reunited to a +faithful wife--or to have the stain of innocent blood lifted from his +brow--the mark of Cain wiped out for ever! One of these two things it +must be, and he thirsted to ascertain which! He was so self-absorbed +and _distrait_, that even Lady Alethea perceived the difference in her +tutor and asked him kindly if he were ill. + +“O! nothing! nothing! only a slight headache, dear Lady Alethea,” he +murmured, as he made a violent effort to collect his wandering +thoughts, and fix them on the Italian grammar. + +On his way home that evening, he called for Karl Steinberg, and asked +him to walk back with him, whilst he confided his fears and asked what +steps they should take, to prevent such a calamity as the loss of +Hannah’s services. + +“It merely means,” replied the Doctor, “more money. Mrs. Battleby has +perceived the satisfaction we feel in Hannah’s society, and judges +wisely, that it does not all proceed from giving her medicine! My +friend! these women are too sharp for us! Their brains are very light, +but they make up for that deficiency by the cunning of the lower +animals. After all, when you come to consider it, why should we +interest ourselves because a maid-of-all-work is anæmic, hysterical? +Had we not better make a clean breast of it at once, and tell the good +woman what we do with Hannah during her evenings with us?” + +“Not for the world,” cried the Professor, hastily, “the more ignorant +the mind, the more opposed it is to anything it cannot understand! We +should not only lose Mrs. Battleby’s patronage (if I may call her +concession by such a name), but Hannah’s also. For she would, of +course, tell the girl everything, and she would refuse to sit with us +any more.” + +“I see!” replied Steinberg, thoughtfully, “then my advice is to take +no notice whatever of Mrs. Battleby’s hints, which were probably only +thrown out in order to make you betray yourself. She is curious, my +dear friend--all women are--she fancies there must be something more +going on than the curative process, and thought to bully you into +telling her what it is. Keep your own counsel! She may suspect, but so +long as the door of your inner chamber is kept locked, she cannot find +out!” + +“How I wish I was rich enough to hire this girl as my own servant,” +observed Ricardo, “and defy Mrs. Battleby, or leave her lodgings +altogether! Then I would take a little house of my own, and people +might say what they liked!” + +“And what they liked would be, to spread a pretty tale of scandal +about you and this country girl. I, too, wish that I were rich enough +to settle her down in rooms of her own, where we could visit her at +stated periods, and hold our séances, but it is impossible! I can +only manage to support myself--much less another person. Attached to +the Hospital as I am, I have my lodgings free, but I fear my salary as +House surgeon would not go very far in an establishment of my own.” + +“Never mind, Steinberg! We will not anticipate evil, but do as well as +we can with the means before us! This is our séance evening! From the +progress we have already made, I anticipate great things to-night.” + +They hastened their steps as he spoke, and in a short time, they found +themselves once more closeted with Hannah Stubbs. + +Mrs. Battleby was evidently very curious on that occasion, and very +unwilling to leave them alone. She brought up the tea-tray herself, +and took it down again, and insisted upon conducting Hannah to their +presence--a thing she had never done before. + +“’Ere is Hannah, gentlemen,” she commenced, as she shouldered the +red-cheeked maid into the room, “I’ve bin a’arsking ’er what the +physic as the Doctor gives ’er tastes like, and she can’t remember +nothink about it, but says as ’ow it allays makes ’er go to sleep, +which seems very cur’ous to me.” + +Steinberg having been in a measure prepared for an onslaught of this +kind, had primed himself with a list of names, unintelligible to the +landlady. + +“Hannah is perfectly right, Mrs. Battleby,” he said, gravely. “In +order to cure the very unusual form of hysteria to which she is +subject, I am compelled to treat her with Ilex aquifolium, Conium +maculatum, and Æthusa cynapium, which drugs, though most valuable in +themselves, always have the effect of producing a quiescent state in +the patient, after which they are unable to recall what has passed. +But I trust--more, I am sure--that my treatment will eventually dispel +her symptoms. But ‘Rome was not built in a day,’ Mrs. Battleby, as +doubtless you know well, and I warn you that to effect a complete cure +in this case, will take some time. That is why I proposed to recoup +you for the loss of her services.” + +“O! yes, Sir, I understand perfectly well,” replied Mrs. Battleby, +looking round the room the while, as though she would spy out the +truth of the Doctor’s specious argument. “But in course as I am sure +neither of you gentlemen won’t forget Hannah, she’s but a child as you +may say, and knows nothink of the world, and I ’opes you will be very +careful of ’er!” + +“Of course, of course! You could not trust her to better hands than +those of my friend Doctor Steinberg,” said the Professor, as the +landlady was at last persuaded to leave them to themselves. + +“By Jove!” exclaimed Steinberg in French, “I do believe the old woman +imagines we intend to seduce this poor child! Heavens! what an idea! +With all the beautiful women you see in Town, to fancy one ever +bestowing a thought in that way upon this ungainly, uncouth girl! Your +landlady is not so cute in this as in most things, Ricardo!” + +“I only hope she may not prove to be _too_ cute,” replied his friend, +“I fear she smells a rat, as the English say--that is, that she has a +strong suspicion what we are about, and if that is so, she will put a +stop to it.” + +Their colloquy was interrupted by seeing Hannah suddenly leave her +seat and going to the séance chamber, pass in to the darkness beyond, +without a word, closing the door after her. + +“Why! what is she about, now? This is quite a new departure,” +exclaimed the Doctor, “shall we follow her, or remain here?” + +“I think we had better remain here, and lower the gas,” said Ricardo, +“perhaps James will tell us what to do. Fancy! Hannah going into that +dark room of her own accord! She has refused even to look into it +before!” + +“She did not go of her own accord,” replied the Spirit Voice, “I sent +her. Lower the gas more. Leave only a glimmer! That’s right! Now open +the séance room door a little, and take your seats at the further end +of the room and wait! Some one is coming to see you to-night!” + +The two men did as was desired of them, whilst the Professor was +putting up an inward prayer that the “some one” who was coming, might +prove to be Leonora. + +“No! it isn’t,” answered the Voice, which now appeared to proceed from +the dark chamber which they thenceforth called the “cabinet”--“don’t +you be in such a hurry to see Leonora, Professor! You’ll have more +than enough of her, when she does come. It is not any one whom you +know, as far as I am aware, but it is not the medium. Mind that!” + +And then the Voice ceased, and for half an hour all was silence. Then +Steinberg, nudging the Professor, whispered, + +“What is that?” + +Ricardo glanced towards the cabinet, and perceived a faint filmy +figure standing beside the half-opened door. + +“Can it be James?” he whispered back again. They were too much awed to +speak aloud. + +The figure shook its head. + +“Who are you? Cannot you come nearer to us? Cannot you give us your +name?” urged Steinberg, and in his anxiety to learn more, he left his +seat and approached the cabinet. The figure instantly disappeared. + +“Forgive me!” he said, as he rejoined his friend, “I have stupidly +been the means of that figure disappearing. I ought not to have left +my chair, but my curiosity got the better of me. I hope it will come +again.” + +A few minutes’ patience was rewarded by the same apparition standing +in the doorway, and holding out, as it seemed, its hand toward the +Doctor. + +Steinberg, not daring to move again, stared through his glasses at the +outstretched arm, and then sinking suddenly towards the Professor, he +leant heavily upon his shoulder, and exclaimed, + +“My God! It is Mrs. Carlile!” + +“And who is Mrs. Carlile?” asked Ricardo, who had never heard the name +before. + +“A patient and friend of mine! She had her hand amputated--I performed +the operation under chloroform--and she never recovered from the +anæsthetic. Look! don’t you see her arm is without a hand! Good +Heavens! I never thought I should feel a thing like this! Have you any +brandy? Can you get it? I feel as though I should faint!” + +The figure had retreated again by this time and Ricardo procured +Steinberg what he asked for. As soon as he had drunk the stimulant, +his courage returned. + +“Come back!” he cried, “dear Mrs. Carlile, my poor friend, come back +and assure me of your forgiveness! Tell me that you know it was an +accident due to the chloroform. It made me so unhappy! I did not sleep +for weeks afterwards, thinking you might attribute your untimely death +to my negligence. Poor girl! It was a crushing blow to me at the +time.” + +The figure appeared for the third time, and waved its left hand and +nodded its head, and the Professor declared he distinctly saw it +smile. As for the Doctor, he was too prostrate for the moment to see +anything. + + +They waited for some time after that, in hopes that the spirit of Mrs. +Carlile might return, but all was darkness. At last, just as they were +thinking of breaking up the séance, a white-robed form again made its +appearance on the threshold of the cabinet. + +“Mrs. Carlile!” cried the Doctor, in a fervent voice, “speak to me! +Convince me of Immortality, and your forgiveness at one and the same +time.” + +But there was no response. The spirit, whoever it might be, could not +speak, but the head was turned towards the Professor. + +“Perhaps she could communicate better with you than with me!” said +Steinberg. “Speak to her, Ricardo, ask her to give me some +unmistakable token of her friendship and belief!” + +“Do not be afraid of us!” commenced Ricardo, in his gentle voice. “If +you are Mrs. Carlile, give my friend here some sign that you have +forgiven the past!” + +“That you are reconciled to your cruel fate,” interposed the Doctor, +“that you did not mourn too much at leaving your husband and your +infant children--that you know now that all things are ordered for the +best and by a Wiser Law than ours.” + +But the figure kept its head turned in the direction of the Professor. +At last, as though with a violent effort, it pronounced the word +“Paolo” and immediately disappeared. Ricardo sank on his knees in an +attitude of prayer. + +“Leonora!” he cried, “Leonora! I have found you at last.” + +Steinberg was about to address him, when they were startled by a +sudden and violent knocking at the outer door. + + +“Who is that?” asked Steinberg, whilst he whispered to his friend, +“Calm yourself, Ricardo. Some one is asking for admittance. What is to +be done?” + +The Professor started to his feet. + +“They cannot--shall not--come in,” he exclaimed. “It is an outrage! I +gave strict orders that we were never to be disturbed. Tell them so, +Steinberg! And at such a moment, too!” he added, as he wiped the beads +of sweat from his brow. + +“Who is it? What do you want?” demanded the Doctor, of the intruder. + +“It’s me, Sir,” replied the voice of Mrs. Battleby, “which there’s a +lady downstairs as wants to see Hannah Stubbs most particular! Will +you please to open the door, Sir?” + +“No! Mrs. Battleby, I cannot! The lady must call another time! My +patient is asleep from the effects of the medicine I have given her, +and I cannot have her awakened. It might be dangerous!” + +“I won’t waken her, Sir, if you’ll kindly let me have a look at her, +so as I may tell the lady as I see her asleep with my own eyes!” + +“You must tell her so on my authority,” replied Steinberg, “I cannot +have Hannah disturbed on any account!” + +“What! not when I, as is her own mother’s friend, ask to look at her +for a moment as she is asleep. Well! all I can say, Sir, is that I +never ’eard tell of sich a thing--not in my borned days--and I can’t +believe as any gentleman as calls ’isself sich, would keep a pore gal +from ’er friends, when they arsks to see ’er.” + +“If the lady is a lady, she will not wish the girl to run the risk of +danger from being roused, as your loud talking is likely to do now,” +replied Steinberg, angrily, “and if you do not go away, or hold your +tongue, Mrs. Battleby, and any harm comes to my patient from your +intrusion, I shall report your behaviour to the Hospital authorities. +How do you suppose I can administer such drugs as Colium maculatum and +Æthusa cynapium, if the patient is to be disturbed whilst under their +influence. If Hannah Stubbs dies from your violence I will have you +indicted for man-slaughter.” + +“Lawk-a-me!” exclaimed the landlady, as she stumbled down the stairs +again, “that would be a pretty thing to bring against Martha Battleby, +as never hurted a wurrum in ’er life! But I believe as you’re capable +of that, or any other villainy,” she continued, as she reached the +kitchen again. + +Needless to say that the lady, who was so desirous of interviewing +Hannah Stubbs, existed in her brain only, and that her sudden +irruption upon the “foreign gents” as she sometimes designated Ricardo +and his friend, had been induced solely from her intense curiosity to +find out what these nightly visitations on the part of her “slavey” +meant. + +“Which I don’t believe, Mrs. Blamey,” she confided to her crony, “as +it’s for the purpuss of curing that gal of her highstrikes, not if you +was to tell me ever so! They’ve got some designs on the pore gal, mark +my words! I never did think much of foreigners, for they’re a wicious, +immoral lot, as ’ow could you expect anythink else from a nation as +lives on frogs and sour wine. Not but what I ’olds the Sig-nor to be a +quiet, and respectable gentleman,--least-ways ’e ’ave been so +’itherto, but that there German doctor with ’is long ’air, and his +glasses, is enough to demoralise the best man living. We hadn’t +nothink of these evenin’s alone with gals on pertence of curin’ their +illnesses, before ’e came. The Sig-nor, ’e allays was a Mystery, and +I’ve said as much before,--but a gentleman as is a Mystery with ’is +books and ’is larning, is a very different thing from a gentleman as +is a Mystery with gals. Hannah Stubbs, she’s hignorant and hidle, but +she ain’t no more hill than you or me! We all ’ave our crosses in this +life, Mrs. Blamey, but we don’t go and sit alone with gents to cure +’em, and I don’t like it, and that’s the fact!” + +“And I don’t blame you for one, Mrs. Battleby, ma’am,” replied her +friend, “I never did like secret ways and never shall. Where there’s +secrets and mysteries, I says, there’s summat wrong. And how you could +have stood being locked out of your own room for so long, beats me! +It’s a puffect insult to a lady of your position, the mistress of her +own ’ouse, and left a widder with an independency, and though I’m only +an ’umble and down-trodden wife, _I_ wouldn’t have stood it, not if I +entered under their very eyes!” + +“But it was a sort of agreement-like, Mrs. Blamey, as the Sig-nor was +to ’ave them three rooms to ’isself, and open or shut, they’re ’is. +And ’ow could I enter when he keeps the key in ’is pocket, night and +day.” + +“And ain’t there no other keys in the ’ouse as would fit that room, +Mrs. Battleby, ma’am?” insinuated Mrs. Blamey. “Couldn’t you try +anyways, or get another key fitted whilst the gentleman is hout, and +so look into it without his knowing nothink about it.” + +“Well, so I could, to be sure!” exclaimed the other, “but I never +thought of trying yet. But it seems to me a plain duty, Mrs. Blamey, +to find out what they’re going to do with that there pore gal! Why! +’oo knows? that Doctor might be Jack the Ripper--which many said ’e +was a doctor--and going to cut up Hannah into bits. And whatever +should I say to ’er mother, which was my friend when we was little +gals together, if her daughter disappeared under my roof and wasn’t +never ’eard of again?” + +“It is your dooty, Mrs. Battleby, there’s no doubt of that, and if so +be you’re afeared to enter the room by yourself, why, I’ll go with you +as soon as look at you.” + +“Bless you, Mrs. Blamey, I ain’t afeared, no more than of a black +beadle, but now you’ve put it straight afore me, I will find out what +them two is a’doing with that gal, as sure as my name’s Martha +Battleby! You never know what men are, till you find them out, and +though these look so respectable and dull, they may be villains for +all that. Keep a gal in the dark, indeed, and give ’er summat to make +’er go to sleep--I’ve ’eard summat like that afore, Mrs. Blamey, and +no good come of it! So if there ain’t a key in the ’ouse as will fit +that door, I’ll ’ave one made, afore I’m a day older. Good-night, and +if I discovers any of their willainies, you’ll be the first to ’ear of +it, you may depend on that!” + +Consequently, as soon as the Professor had departed on his round of +teaching the following morning, Mrs. Battleby sent Hannah on an +errand, and commenced her tour of inspection. As was to be expected, a +common house had common locks to the doors, and she soon found that +the key of her own bedroom proved an “Open Sesame” to the séance +chamber. + +On her first view of the interior, Mrs. Battleby screamed aloud, so +gloomy and funereal was its aspect. But when she had somewhat +recovered her nerve, its appearance inspired her with but one +notion----all this want of light and air meant the Devil, and nothing +else! They were practising Sorcery in this mysterious little chamber, +and had dragged the poor gal, with her dancing tables and chairs, and +her “shadders” and “woices” into it, with themselves. And yet, after +all, the landlady was not sufficiently sure to feel brave enough to +accuse her lodger of mal-practices. So she resolved to wait for the +next opportunity, and find out what she could for herself. She had the +resolution to hold her tongue about her intentions--not only to the +Professor, but to Hannah and her next-door neighbour, and when the +Signor’s door had been locked upon the succeeding séance, Mrs. +Battleby knelt outside in the darkness, with her ear applied to the +keyhole. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + +At first she heard nothing but the ordinary salutations that passed +between the Professor and the serving-maid, but she was patient and +long-suffering in the cause of Curiosity, and after a while, she was +rewarded. Silence ensued;--next, furtive whisperings between the two +conspirators--then, a few words of awed surprise--and lastly, the +Victory! + +“Leonora!” she heard the Professor say, “Leonora! come to me!” + +“My gracious!” thought the landlady, “if they ain’t got another gal in +there! ’Oo’d ’ave thought it, and the Sig-nor looking so grave and +solemn the while? I was a green’orn to have believed as they would +’ave been satisfied with Hannah between the two. That’s the Doctor’s +doings, I’ll be bound! Them medicals are hup to heverythink. ’Ow did +’e smuggle the ’ussy in under my very eyes? In an ’amper, I suppose, +which no more comes into my ’ouse. And I, who ’ave tried so ’ard to +keep it quiet and respectable! I’ll ‘Nora’ them, when we meets again. +And as for that there Hannah, ’ome she goes to-morrer.” + +Mrs. Battleby, having applied her ear again to the keyhole, and heard +Steinberg speak of “Mrs. Carlile,” and being convinced that the +villainies going on were not confined to unmarried girls, bundled +downstairs shaking with indignation, and began to seek industriously +for pen, ink and paper, wherewith to inscribe a letter to Mrs. Stubbs +of Settlefield. + +She was some time before she found what she sought, letter-writing not +being an every-day habit with her. At last, however, in a corner of +the kitchen dresser, she unearthed the penny bottle of ink, which had +remained there, without a cork, a couple of months, and been well +thickened by the addition of a dozen flies, and in a drawer of the +same article of furniture she discovered a steel pen with only one +nib, with which she scratched as with a pin, on a dirty half sheet of +paper, the following words, + + + “Dear Mrs. Stubbs, + + “If you will please to come to London tomorrer, and fetch ’ome your + daughter Hannah, I shall be obliged, as there is goings on hupstairs + wich I don’t approve of, and I’m afraid she ain’t no good with the + gentlemen. + + “Your loving friend, + “Martha Battleby.” + + +The consternation which this mysterious epistle caused in the cottage +home in Settlefield, may be better imagined than described. + +Mrs. Stubbs, who was a laundress, and trying hard, with the assistance +of her husband, to keep five or six hungry mouths full, was like many +ignorant country people, excessively stern upon a lapse from Virtue. +These brawny-armed daughters of the soil, who are spoilt for +love-making before they are five-and-twenty--who deteriorate in every +direction as soon as they become mothers, and remain like sacks of +meal for ever afterwards--are invariably unable to understand how any +women can be tempted to deviate from the straight and narrow path, +from which they have never had the opportunity to swerve by so much as +a hair’s breadth. + +When Mary Stubbs therefore received Martha Battleby’s letter and had +mastered its contents, she was more than angry with her recreant +daughter. + +“Look ’ere! John Stubbs,” she exclaimed, as she waved the epistle +towards her husband, with a hand immersed in soap suds; “just see what +your darter ’as been a’doin’ of! Gallivanting along with gentlemen, +which never did no gal any good yet, and she keeping company with Joe +Brushwood all the while. Let me git ’old of the ’ussy and I’ll kill +’er--see if I don’t. My family ’ave always been brought up honest and +respectable, and I won’t ’ave any light-a-loves among ’em. I’ll go up +to Lunnon by the fust train and give Miss Hannah sich a thrashing as +she never ’ad in ’er days before.” + +“Now! now!” replied Stubbs _père_, “be easy, my lass! The gal’s done +no ’arm as I can see! She’s a nice-looking gal, and the gennelmen ’ave +paid ’er a compliment or two, p’r’aps. And no wonder! They’re all the +same when they sees a nice, fresh country lass, a’bringing in their +tea, or what-not. Let it alone! The ould woman will write agen and +apologise in a day or two.” + +“_Let it alone!_ you fool! What are you talking on? Let it alone, till +our Hannah comes back to us with a babby at ’er back, like Emily Marks +did last year! Will I let it alone? You wait and see,” cried Mrs. +Stubbs, as she energetically wiped her steaming arms and hands on a +coarse towel. “And there’s Joe Brushwood, too,” she continued, “I +wonders what _he’ll_ say to Miss Hannah’s goings-on!” + +“Sure! you’d never go to make mischief atween the young people?” +exclaimed the father. + +“If anybody makes mischief it’ll be Hannah herself. You mind what she +left ’er ’ome for, father! She wouldn’t give up them devilries of +hern, not for Joe, nor me, nor no one, but went on talkin’ about +woices and shadders till she made me sick. I said I’d ’ave none of it +in _my_ ’ouse, and so did Mrs. Brushwood, else Hannah might ’ave been +a married woman by this time and safe out of ’arm’s way. But no! she +wouldn’t, so I sent ’er to Lunnon to shake the nonsense out of ’er, +and this is my reward. She’s a’going to the bad! But she is my +lawfully begotten child, and I’ll murder ’er, but she shall give it +all up from this day,--gentlemen and shadders and woices, and the +whole bag-o’-tricks!” + +“Well! well! I don’t say nothing against your going,” replied her +husband, who like many of his kind was terribly hen-pecked, and afraid +to interfere in any matter from fear of making it worse, “but take +young Joe along of you. He’ll look arter your traps, for you must stay +a night in Lunnon, I guess, and he’ll be powerfully persuasive with +the gal, and help you to bring ’er to ’er right senses, eh?” + +“Yes! that be wise on you, father,” responded his wife, as she put on +her linen bonnet and went in search of her neighbour, Mrs. Brushwood. + +It was soon arranged that young Joe, Hannah’s sweetheart, should +accompany his prospective mother-in-law to Town, and convey the two +women safely back again to Settlefield. Joseph Brushwood, the younger, +was not a bad fellow for his station in life. His parents were +well-to-do farmers, and the young man’s prospects were as bright as he +had any right to expect. He was good-looking, too, in his countrified +fashion, with bold black eyes and a thick bush of curling hair, and a +ruddy complexion--a “follower” of whom any girl, like Hannah Stubbs, +might have been proud, and for having attracted whom, she was much +envied in the neighbourhood of Settlefield. But Joe had been brought +up “pious”, and stuck to the Bible as his rule in all perplexities of +life. He was like many other people in this world. He called himself a +Christian, yet possessed not one virtue of the Great Lover of mankind. +He did not regard the Almighty as a reality--he only knew Him through +the Bible. He never prayed from his heart, nor because he felt the +actual necessity of prayer. But he went to church every Sunday +afternoon, because he had been reared to consider it his duty. He sat +there, with his Sunday clothes on,--his dark hair well-oiled, and a +bright blue or crimson tie beneath his turned-down collar, and all the +young women thought how nice Joe Brushwood looked and wondered what he +could see in that stout, awkward Hannah Stubbs to take his fancy. And +Joe slumbered through the greater part of the service, and returned +home with the comfortable feeling that he had performed his weekly +duty, and was a pattern Christian. + +He was the sort of bucolic ignoramus, who would be more “down” upon +anything which was Greek to him, than any other man. He had no +humility, though he had a good deal of rough good humour. He was +flattered by Hannah’s undoubted affection for himself, but he did not +care enough for her to give up anything for her sake. + +He dressed himself in his smartest clothes to go to London with Mrs. +Stubbs, though she told him as little as she could of her errand. + +They arrived in Soho about five o’clock, and presented themselves at +Mrs. Battleby’s door. They were received by the landlady herself. + +“O! there, I _am_ glad to see you!” she exclaimed; “come in, do, and +sit down and have your tea. Hannah has just gone on an errand for me, +but she’ll be back in a jiffey. O! Mrs. Stubbs, ma’am, she ’ave give +me sich a scare!” + +“Well! I’m sure your letter give _me_ a scare, Mrs. Battleby,” replied +the visitor, as she settled herself in a chair, “and me and this +gentleman, which he is my Hannah’s young man, started off as quick as +we could to ’ear the rights and wrongs of it!” + +“Lor! is this ’er sweetheart?” interposed Mrs. Battleby admiringly, +“well, she have an inducement to keep straight, if any gal on hearth +’ave!” + +Joe settled his collar and tie and looked conscious of the compliment, +as Mrs. Stubbs proceeded: + +“And keep straight she ’ave, I will take my solemn hoath of it, though +I’m her lawful mother.” + +“Lor! Mrs. Stubbs, you mustn’t take my words for more than meant,” +said Mrs. Battleby, as she placed the tea-tray in front of her guests, +“but Hannah, she do give me the squirms, there’s no denying of it, +what with her ghosties and her woices, and now these gentlemen--till +she’s a’most too much for me!” + +At the word “ghosties” Mrs. Stubbs put down her teacup, and said +solemnly, + +“You don’t mean for to go to tell me, Mrs. Battleby, as she’s seen +them shadders and things again!” + +“_Seen ’em!_ why, she’s allays on about ’em, till she makes my flesh +creep. But I wouldn’t have writ to you, Mrs. Stubbs, if it ’adn’t been +for the gentlemen upstairs--that is my hattic lodger Sig-nor Ricardo, +and ’is friend Doctor Steinberg--which they arsks for leave to cure +your gal of ’er seeing of things, which they calls highstrikes,--and +gets ’er upstairs of evenings to sit with them, under pertence of +physicking ’er, so the night before last I makes bold to listen at the +door to see what they was a’doing with the gal, and I ’eard--well, +Mrs. Stubbs, ma’am, I ’ardly likes to tell you _what_ I ’eard!” + +“But you must, ma’am, but you must!” exclaimed the other, eagerly, +“I’ve come to Lunnon with this young man, a puppuss to ’ear all as you +can tell us!” + +“Well! then, Mrs. Stubbs, I must tell you fust, as the Sig-nor kep’ +one of ’is rooms locked, night and day, but arter ’e got ’old, as I +may say, of Hannah, I considered it my dooty to see what they did for +myself, and I got another key fitted, and unlocked the door!” + +“Which you did right, Mrs. Battleby!” agreed Mrs. Stubbs. + +“And what did I find, but the ’ole room was hung with black +curtings--walls, floor and winder--and sich a ’orrid smell, something +between musk and cockroaches! Thinks I to myself, this ain’t for no +good, so I listens to them, as I says before, and it’s a mixture, Mrs. +Stubbs--a mixture of gals and Sorcery and Magic and the Devil, that’s +what it is, and I cannot ’ave it in my ’ouse. The Professor ’e must +go, and so must Hannah, though I’m sorry to say it of a daughter of +yours--but it’s right-down wickedness, and I won’t countenance it!” + +At this Joe Brushwood sprang to his feet. + +“I know what it is,” he exclaimed, fiercely. “Hannah’s been raising +them sperrits again, which she promised me to have no more to do with +’em, and if that’s the case, it’s all over between us, for I won’t +’ave a sorceress for a wife, to bewitch me half my time,--not if I +dies a bachelor!” + +“’Ush!” cried Mrs. Battleby, “’ere’s Hannah. Just put it to ’er, Mrs. +Stubbs, ’ow she’s been employing ’er time with the Sig-nor and ’is +friend, and judge for yourself!” + +In another moment Hannah entered the kitchen. She had been out for a +little walk and it had done her good. Her face was rosy and fresh and +beaming with smiles. On her arm she carried a market basket, but as +soon as she caught sight of her mother and Joe Brushwood, she threw it +on the ground and flew towards them, her eyes sparkling with delight. + +“Mother!” she cried rapturously; “’owever did you come ’ere. And Joe +too!”--more bashfully--“O! I _am_ glad to see you both again. I cries +for ’ome every night afore I goes to sleep, mother!” + +She would have embraced her, but the elder woman thrust her away. + +“No! Hannah Stubbs, no!” she said, severely, as she glared at her +daughter, “not till you gives me a hexplanation of your doings in this +’ere ’ouse--likewise to Joe Brushwood, which we’re ’ere for that, and +nothink else.” + +The rosy colour faded from Hannah’s face, as she encountered her +mother’s angry glance. + +“What ’ave I been a’doing of?” she faltered, “why, nothink, +mother--leastways nothink wrong, as I knows on. I’ve tried to give +satisfaction. Mrs. Battleby knows that, don’t you, Mum?” + +“Well! I can’t say as I do, Hannah,” returned that worthy, “if seeing +ghosts and sich-like, and playing with the Devil up in the gentlemen’s +rooms, is giving satisfaction, I can’t see it, and that’s all!” + +“Hannah! what ’ave you been a’doing up in the lodgers’ rooms?” +demanded Mrs. Stubbs again. + +“Only ’aving physic,” replied the girl, as she looked down upon the +floor. + +“Come! that ain’t true,” interposed Mrs. Battleby, “for you knows you +go into a room all ’ung with black, and sees ghosties, which is only +the Devil dressed up to deceive mankind.” + +“Is this the case?” said her mother, sternly. + +“I never see none,” replied Hannah, “leastways not in the room, and I +’ates them, mother--I’ve told you so, scores of times--but they will +foller me, I can’t ’elp it.” + +“Does you go to sleep in those gentlemen’s rooms?” continued Mrs. +Stubbs. + +“The physic they gives me, makes me do that!” replied the girl. +“’Tain’t _my_ fault!” + +“Then I’ve done with yer for ever,” exclaimed Joe Brushwood, +energetically, “a gal as goes to sleep in gentlemen’s rooms, ain’t the +wife for a respectable young man, and it’s all over between us, Hannah +Stubbs, you mark that! I’ve told you so, afore two witnesses, so you +needn’t try for a breach of promise of marriage case!” + +“O! no! no! Joe, don’t say that!” cried Hannah, tearfully, “I’ve been +a true gal to you all along, Joe, and if--if--I’m so un’appy as to be +prosecuted by shadders and things, you did ought to pity me, and not +turn against me like that!” + +“You leave the young man alone, Hannah,” interrupted her mother, “’e’s +doing the right thing in casting you hoff, and I, for one, won’t blame +’im for it! Do you suppose any decent feller will marry you with these +devils allays arter you? You’re a Witch! that’s what you are, and a +Sorceress. You’ve sold yourself to the Devil and ought to be burnt +alive, as they did to sich as you in the good old times. Likely a +respectable man like Joe Brushwood, would own you now--when your own +people won’t! _I_ won’t ’ave you a’coming ’ome, contaminating your +brothers and sisters with your devilish ways, no more won’t your +father! You must make your living the best way you can for the future, +for you don’t see me nor ’ome no more, and that I tells you straight.” + +“Mother! mother! don’t go to say that!” cried Hannah, in despair, as +she flung herself down upon the floor and burst into tears. + +At that moment, the spare figure of the Professor appeared at the open +door of the kitchen. + +“Mrs. Battleby!” he commenced, and then perceiving the attitude which +Hannah had assumed, he broke off his request with, “Why! what is the +matter? Is Hannah ill?” + +“No! Sir, she hain’t hill,” replied Mrs. Stubbs, guessing his +identity, “but she’s cast off by ’er friends and ’er young man, for +hever.” + +Ricardo looked at the stranger with mild surprise. + +“But why?” he inquired, “what has she done?” + +“And you can stand there, and arsk me that, you brazen-faced +impostor?” cried Mrs. Stubbs, with undisguised fury, “when it’s all +along of you and your diabolical practices, that the pore gal ’ave +lost ’er good name and repitation? What have _you_ done--that’s more +to the puppuss, a’avin ’er up to your rooms a nights--your dark rooms +’ung with black--and playing with ’ell fire as you do? Why ’ave you +been a’calling up sperrits and ghosties and sich-like, and frightening +us all out of our wits. But since it is so, and Hannah, she ’ave been +fool enough to play into your ’ands (wich I’m sure you’re old enough +to know better than to lead young gals astray), she ain’t no more a +child of mine, and she don’t come ’ome no more, neither, to +contaminate ’er brothers and sisters. She belongs to the Devil and let +’im keep ’er! _I_ don’t!” + +“But, my dear Madam,” said the Professor, “you mistake altogether! My +friend Doctor Steinberg has been trying to cure your daughter of her +natural weakness----” + +“Bah!” exclaimed the irate mother, more emphatically than politely. +“Go along with yer!” + +“Mrs. Battleby, _you_ can explain this matter,” said Ricardo, turning +to his landlady. + +“No! Sig-nor, I can’t,” she replied, “I must make bold to tell you +that I went into your locked-up room the other day, and I listened at +your door last night and I know _all!_ And I’ll be much obliged if +you’ll find another lodging, Sig-nor, by this day week. Mysteries as +is jined with books I can be easy with, but not Mysteries as is jined +with gals!” + +“Of what baseness do you suspect me?” said Ricardo, indignantly. “It +is true that finding this girl to be a strong medium, my friend and I +have used her to assist us in our studies in spiritualism, but if +anyone is in fault in the matter, it is I. Hannah is perfectly +blameless; indeed, she does not even know what has occurred. Pray, +therefore, do not visit the misfortune on her innocent head. If Mrs. +Stubbs does not believe in, or does not approve of, Spiritualism, she +can at least sympathise with the marvellous power which her daughter +possesses, and which is as rare as it is wonderful.” + +“_Sympathise!_” screamed Mrs. Stubbs. “No! Sir, I don’t, nor with any +dealings with the Devil, nor witches, nor sorcery, nor----” + +“Devils! Witches! Fiddlesticks!” cried Ricardo, impatiently. + +“It’ll fiddlestick you, Sir, and that misfortunate gal there, if you +don’t take ’eed to your ways,” retorted his irate adversary. “Me and +mine ’ave been brought hup Christuns from our birth--in sound Methody +principles--and we won’t stand no devilry, nor doings of Satan--and no +more will this young man ’ere!” + +“No! no! certingly not!” exclaimed the chivalrous Joe, “hit’s hall +hover with me and Hannah from this hour.” + +“What! are _you_, too, going to turn against her, for a temperament +which is no fault of her own?” exclaimed the Professor, addressing the +young farmer. “You--who professed to be her lover! Shame on you! You +are not a man! Men were different in my day. They stood by the women +they had promised to defend, to the very last--I think Hannah is well +quit of such as you.” + +“O! do you, Sir?” interposed Mrs. Stubbs, “and we thinks we’re well +quit of the Devil and hall his himps! As you’ve been the means of +leading this un’appy gal astray, and ’aving ’er turned out of a good +place, and spurned by ’er relations, p’r’aps you’ll see arter ’er for +the future, and the Devil and you will ’elp ’er to make a living, for +no one else will.” + +The Professor looked like a grand old hero as he replied, + +“_I will!_ You may depend on that! Whilst I have a crust, she shall +share it! I would be ashamed to own so cold and unfeeling a heart as +you seem to possess, though you _are_ her mother. Do not cry so +bitterly, Hannah! I will see that you do not want! As for you, Sir,” +he continued, turning to Joe Brushwood, “words cannot express the +contempt I feel for you! You are a poltroon--a coward--a cur! In my +country, they do not let men like you _live!_ Mrs. Battleby, I accept +your notice, and will leave your rooms as soon as I have found others. +Till then, I hope you will allow Hannah to remain under your care, and +to-morrow I will tell you with whom I have decided to place her. +Good-night!” + +He quitted the kitchen with the air of a _preux chevalier_, and the +persons in it felt very small. + +“Well! I ain’t a’going to stay ’ere any longer,” said Mrs. Stubbs, as +she bounced up from her seat, “the very hair seems to collaborate me. +I’ll get a bed at the Pig and Whistle, which the lady knows me well, +and to-morrer p’r’aps you’ll let me know, Mrs. Battleby, what that old +feller means to do for that misfortunate, wicked gal there. If ’e +don’t provide for ’er, she must just go to the workus, for I washes my +’ands of ’er altogether!” + +“Saying as I was no man, indeed,” added Joe, indignantly, “I’d like to +take the old chap outside for a minute and I’d soon let ’im know which +on us was the best man. A dried-up, withered old carcase like that, +and an _I_-talian into the bargain, who’s been fed on macaroni and +snails. I like ’is imperence!” + +“Come on, Joe! don’t waste no more time ’ere,” exclaimed Mrs. Stubbs, +“if we make ’aste, we shall be in time for a music ’all yet, and I do +love a music ’all. It’ll put all this wickedness as we’ve been talking +of, out of my ’ead.” + +She went into the area as she spoke, followed by Mrs. Battleby, +cackling all the while of the Devil and his ways. + +Hannah was left for a moment alone with Joe. + +“Joe!” she ejaculated, plaintively, as she raised her head, “don’t you +leave me for a minute. Your words ’ave nigh broke my ’eart. I’ve +allays loved you, Joe, and I’ve been true and faithful to you, ever +since we was little children together. Don’t you believe what mother +and Mrs. Battleby says--they’re talking of what they know nothing. I +ain’t pretty, I know, Joe, but I’ve been a good gal to you. Don’t go +for to forsake me like mother, for I shall kill myself if you do!” + +She drew nearer to where the young man stood, sheepishly turning his +billy-cock hat round and round in his hands, and laid hers gently upon +his. + +“Do you mind when we fust kep’ company, Joe--when we was nutting in +Farmer Burrows’ copse, and you ketched my ’and and kissed me afore I +knowed what you was after? That was two good years ago!” + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + +“Well! what of that?” demanded Joe, as he twitched his hand away +from that of the girl. + +“Two years is a goodish time at our age,” continued Hannah, “and +through it all I’ve ’oped to be your wife! Be you going to break your +word to me now, lad?” + +She spoke so wistfully that she made Joe feel very uncomfortable, +though if he had had his own way, he would have stuck to her, whatever +her proclivities. + +“Well! Hannah, you see it’s just like this,” he replied, after an +awkward pause, “Mother, she won’t ’ave any sperrits, nor anyone as +deals with ’em, in ’er ’ouse, and there won’t be no other for me to +take you to, till she and father kicks the bucket.” + +“Not if we worked ’ard for it, Joe?” asked the girl. + +“I ain’t got no work, nor ever shall, but what’s on the farm,” +returned Joe, stolidly, “besides which, Hannah, I don’t approve of +sich goings on myself. It’ll lead to ’ell some time or other, you mark +my word!” + +“But, Joe, it ain’t _my_ fault,” cried the girl, earnestly, “by the +blessed Cross it ain’t. I’se as feared on ’em as you could be! I +screams if they come near me! I don’t know why they should, or why I +sees ’em. It’s my misfortune, Joe, and if it loses me you, it’ll be my +death as well.” + +And she began to sob afresh. + +“Now, Hannah, don’t do that, for mercy’s sake,” urged her lover, “for +I must go. Your mother’ll be rare fashed at my staying be’ind, as it +is. Now, do dry your eyes, like a good lass, for matters is too far +gone to be mended by crying.” + +“You means to leave me then in right earnest?” said the girl. “You +sides with mother and the rest, and will turn your back on me just +because I’se un’appy?” + +“What can I do? my mother, she won’t ’ear on’t, and yourn is as bad. +They’d worry my life out atween ’em, if I went agen ’em, and how +should we live then? that’s the question. No! no! we’d better be +square and part at onst. Besides, the old gennelman says ’_e_’s a +going to look arter you, and you couldn’t do with two on us. So +good-bye, Hannah, and I wishes you well, but you mustn’t expect to see +me any more.” + +So saying, Joe Brushwood ran after Mrs. Stubbs, and was soon in the +full enjoyment of a music hall programme. + +Hannah was not a fine lady to faint from her emotion, but may be she +felt it all the same. When Mrs. Battleby returned to the kitchen, she +found her standing by the table, with her most sullen look on, as if +she dared a stranger to intermeddle with her grief. + +“Well!” cried the landlady, coarsely, “I ’opes you’re satisfied with +the mischief as you’ve done! There’s the mother as bore you, ’alf +drownded in grief, and as ’ansome a young feller as ever I clapped +eyes on, done with you for ever--and all on account of your goings-on +with the gentlemen upstairs. You’ve made a pretty pickle for yourself, +it seems to me.” + +“Mrs. Battleby,” said the girl, suddenly, “can I speak to the Sig-nor +afore I goes to my bed?” + +“In course, if you wants to! ’E and you leaves this ’ouse as soon as +may be, but I’ve no call to part you, whilst you remains ’ere. The +Sig-nor’s in ’is room. You can go up if you’ve a mind to. You’re not +under my horders any longer. You belongs to ’im now. ’E is to pervide +for you, so you needn’t arsk me nothink any more.” + +And Mrs. Battleby turned her back on Hannah and walked into the +scullery. The girl went up the stairs and knocked softly at the +Professor’s door. He was deeply absorbed in a treatise on his +favourite study, but he gave his permission to enter, in a pleasant +voice. + +“Well! my poor girl, and what may you want?” he inquired, as he caught +sight of Hannah’s blotched and swollen visage, “I hope you have made +it up with your mother and sweetheart. It is better to give in our own +wishes a little than to quarrel, Hannah!” + +“Yes, Sir,” she answered, in a muffled voice. She did not seem like +the Hannah of the day before. Something had suddenly gentled her, and +cast a soft shadow over her plain face. “But we ain’t made it up. +Mother, she’s firm, and so is Joe, that they won’t see me again. I +take it rather unkind on their parts, Sir, for I don’t know what I’ve +done wrong. But Mrs. Battleby says as ’ow, when the Doctor ’ave put me +to sleep up ’ere, ghosties and sperrits walk about the room, dressed +in white gownds, and speak with you. Is that true, Sir? ’Ave sperrits +come as she say?” + +Ricardo looked very uneasy. He would have given a great deal to be +able to answer “No!” But he could not! + +“Mrs. Battleby has told you the truth, Hannah,” he replied, “though, +Heaven is my witness, I never imagined I should bring you into such +trouble with your family by permitting it. You have different powers +from most people, my child! The shadows and figures, that you have +seen, you say, all your life, and the voices which you have heard, +should have taught you that. Doctor Steinberg and I are much +interested in such visions, and we thought by letting your powers have +free vent whilst with us, that you would not be so troubled with them +when alone. And if Mrs. Battleby had not been so dishonourable as to +listen at the keyhole, no one would ever have been the wiser. As it +is, it has turned out very unfortunately for all of us. But I will see +that you get another situation, Hannah, so don’t be anxious about +that. You shall not want, whilst I can support you.” + +“Yes, Sir, thank you kindly! It’s very good of you I’m sure, to think +to make it up to me like that, but it won’t give me back my mother, +nor Joe!” + +“No! not directly, but surely they will come round after a while?” + +“I don’t think so,” said Hannah, shaking her head, “country folk is +very hard to turn. I don’t believe as I shall ever see any of ’em +again. But I thought I’d just arsk you if it was true, Sir!” + +Ricardo hid his face in his hands. + +“What have I done?” he murmured. “Fool that I am, I have ruined this +poor child’s life! Don’t you hate me, Hannah, for this?” + +“’Ate _you_, Sir?” she echoed, “but for why? You didn’t mean to ’arm +me, I’m sure of that--nor the Doctor neither! It’s Joe as I oughter +hate, I s’pose, or mother, but I can’t find it in my ’eart to do it! +They was so good to me afore these sperrits come round me. Arter all, +I oughter ’ate _them_ the most, for they’s done the mischief for me. +Good-night, Sir, and thank ye for what you’ve said.” + +She quitted his presence with a kind of rough curtsey, but the +Professor could hear her heart-breaking sobs as she descended the +staircase. He leant his head thoughtfully upon his hand, and tried to +decide what was best to be done. For his own gratification--in order +to further his researches into Occultism--he had spoilt this girl’s +life, parted her from her lover and her home--thrown her, ignorant and +without protection, upon a world that did not want her. How could he +make amends? He pondered over the question for a long time--then +suddenly drew out his watch. It was not yet eight o’clock. He hastily +transcribed a telegram to Karl Steinberg, and rang his bell. It was +answered by Mrs. Battleby. + +“What may you please to want, Sir?” she demanded, “Hannah, she ’ave +gone to bed, as well she may. I’m sure if I had been found out in sich +practices, I should be glad enough to ’ide my ’ead anywheres, sooner +than face honest and God-fearing people!” + +“Mrs. Battleby!” replied the Professor, in an unusually stern voice, +“I am going to quit your apartments as soon as I can find others to +suit me. So long as I remain here, be good enough to spare me the +expression of your sentiments regarding Hannah, or anybody else. I +wish that telegram to be sent as soon as possible!” and he held out +the paper to her as he spoke. + +“It’s quite unpossible as I can send it, Sig-nor,” said the landlady, +with asperity, “considering as there’s only me in the ’ouse. You’ve +took Hannah away from me, Sig-nor, and so you must please to wait on +yourself, and send your own telegrams.” + +The Professor rose with a sigh, and assumed his coat and hat. + +The message was of importance, so he was fain to put up with the +woman’s insolence. He felt he could not finally decide this momentous +question, without the counsel of his friend. The words were +transmitted to the Hospital by a little after eight o’clock, and by +half-past nine, Steinberg entered the room. + +“Why! what’s the matter now?” he exclaimed; “not ill, I hope, +Ricardo.” + +“No! but much perplexed,” replied his friend, and thereupon he related +the circumstances regarding Hannah Stubbs, over which he had been +brooding for so long. + +Karl Steinberg looked very grave. Here was, apparently, not only the +end of Hannah Stubbs, but of their studies in Spiritualism. Where +should they ever find such another medium? + +“What do you intend to do?” he inquired of the Professor. + +“I have been thinking over it for a long time,” replied Ricardo, “and +I can arrive at but one conclusion. _I shall marry the girl!_” + +If he had announced that he intended to murder Hannah Stubbs and all +her family, he could not have astonished the Doctor more. He +positively leapt from his chair, as he exclaimed, + +“Good God! are you mad? Do you know what you are saying? Marry that +clod. Bind yourself for life to a mere animal like Hannah Stubbs! O! +you are jesting with me!” + +“I am doing no such thing,” replied Ricardo, “I am in sober earnest! I +have unintentionally done this girl a great injury. Through my means +she is left without protection, lover, or family affection. I propose +to remedy the evil by making her my wife, and providing for her as far +as I am able.” + +“But not as your wife--Ricardo, my dear friend, think! think what you +are contemplating! Make Hannah your servant--your housekeeper--your +nurse--what you will, but keep her in the station to which she was +born. Take other rooms, or a little house, and install her there as +mistress of your property, but, for Heaven’s sake, do not contemplate +such a mad, impossible self-sacrifice as to marry a woman like that!” + +But the Professor was firm. + +“What did you tell me the other day, that the world would say if I +took Hannah as my servant, and sat, shut up with her alone, night +after night? You said it would talk scandal of us, and doubtless you +were right! As my wife, no one will dare to say anything against her +or what I may choose to do! And do you not guess what is at the bottom +of this resolution, Steinberg? I cannot part again with Leonora! She +would be lost to me for ever! Where should I find another _rara avis_ +like this girl, to bring her back from the grave? No! no! I must +retain her services, and I see no other way to do it. Leonora has but +just been able to manifest herself to us. You saw her beautiful face +peeping through the mist last night, but as yet she cannot communicate +with me--she cannot set this gnawing doubt at rest. Can I give up my +researches just as they are beginning to reward me for my +trouble?--just as I am on the brink of ascertaining what I have +thirsted to know for so many weary years? No! Steinberg, I feel it to +be impossible! I must go on now until I know the truth, and I know of +no means of ascertaining it, but through Hannah Stubbs!” + +“But make her anything but your wife!” repeated the Doctor, “think of +the dishonour--the degradation! _You_--Marchese di Sorrento--the scion +of a princely family--to ally yourself with a common serving girl, a +clod of the soil! O! it is monstrous. I cannot bear to think of it! It +is an infamy--an anomaly--an insult to your birth and your ancestors!” + +“I cannot see it in that light,” said Ricardo. “In the first place, I +am no longer Marchese di Sorrento! I have voluntarily abandoned the +title, and Hannah shall never know that it was mine. To her, I shall +be no more than Signor Ricardo, Professor of the Italian Language. +Taking this away, I do not see that the advantages of such a marriage +will be all on her side. I am poor and I am old----” + +“Nonsense! a man of fifty! Were you to acknowledge your true rank and +status, you might marry a woman with money, to-morrow!” + +The Professor smiled faintly. + +“And Hannah can give me more than any money can buy--she can give me +Leonora! Ah! my friend, you do not yet realise what I suffered in the +loss of my wife--in the loss of my faith in her! To regain that, I +would sacrifice everything I possess in this world! I am fifty, in +years--yes! but in feeling I am seventy--a hundred! Hannah is low +born--I admit it--and ignorant, but she brings Youth and Health and +Innocence as her portion, and she brings what is better than +all--_Leonora!_” + +“If you have quite made up your mind on the subject, I suppose it is +of no use my talking to you any more,” said Steinberg, in a tone of +annoyance. + +“No! not if you would try to make me give up my wife, who has not yet +even spoken to me. With Hannah always at my commands, what may I not +accomplish? I can go on and on, until I hold Leonora in my arms again, +fresh, pure and beautiful, as when I first received her as my bride. +Do you not see, Steinberg--cannot you understand--that it is not +_Hannah_ whom I wish to marry, but Leonora whom I wish to call back to +my love and my embrace? And how can I accomplish this, except by +having the medium under my own control? Were I to engage Hannah as my +servant, and give her every comfort, I could never be sure that she +would not leave me for a better situation, but as my wife, she--I +mean, Leonora--will always be with me to my life’s end.” + +“I understand your feelings perfectly,” replied the Doctor, “but I +would not have you do this extraordinary thing in too great a hurry. I +am not yet satisfied that the pursuit of Spiritualism is entirely +without its dangers, or that these spirits are always the persons whom +they profess to be! What should you do, if, after you had taken this +irremediable step of marriage, you were to discover that the form +which looks to you now like that of your lost wife, were that of some +stranger?” + +“I should try again until I found her,” replied the Professor, “I +should consider my whole life well spent, if I only caught a glimpse +of her at the last!” + +“And if this is to be, where do you propose to take Hannah?” continued +his friend. + +“I have hardly thought of it! I want your advice on several things. +First, shall I mention my project of marrying her to her parents?” + +“I should not! Since they have cast her off, I should take the girl +away with me as my servant, and let the matter alone for a little +while. If she is attached to her lover, as you seem to imagine, she +will probably refuse to listen to your proposal for some time +further.” + +“True! then as to a residence----” + +“I have something to say about that,” interposed Steinberg. “Some time +ago an acquaintance of mine offered me the lease of a cottage in +Hampstead for the rent of twenty-five pounds. I did not care for the +idea of setting up house by myself, and I did not think I could afford +it, but if you would like me to live with you and share expenses, I +believe we might be very comfortable together, and I could still share +your midnight studies with Hannah.” + +“It is the very thing!” cried Ricardo, slapping his knee. “You and I +will pursue our several avocations whilst Hannah looks after the +cottage, and then in the evenings we will return home, to find all +things ready and comfortable for us, and to spend the hours in our +favourite pursuit. But supposing you, too, take it into your head to +marry, my friend, what then? Will the cottage hold us all?” + +“Have no fears on that subject,” replied the Doctor, “I am not such a +fool! Excuse me, Professor, but you have heard my sentiments regarding +Marriage and Women long ago. I am wedded to my profession, and have no +wishes outside of Science. If I did not believe Spiritualism to be a +very great Science, disbelieved in by many, simply because it is +altogether above their heads, I should not pursue the knowledge of it. +But as it is----” + +“As it is,” interrupted the Professor, gaily, “you _do_ believe in it, +and we will live happily together in the little cottage at Hampstead, +with our good Hannah to look after our temporal wants and assist us in +our spiritual researches. My dear Steinberg, I know of nothing that +has given me so much pleasure as this proposal of yours, for a long +time.” + +“I am looking forward to it also,” said Steinberg, “I have long felt +the want of a home and a congenial companion in my leisure hours. My +quarters at the Hospital are too easy of access. I am never sure of +not being disturbed out of canonical hours, and a man does require a +few moments in the day that he can call his own. I must leave you now, +but I will write to my friend to-night about the cottage, and let you +know as soon as possible when we can take possession of it. I have a +few articles of furniture--so have you--and the rest I will procure on +credit. Have no fears, Professor, the cottage will be ours within the +week? But take my advice and think seriously--_very seriously_--before +you decide on the step you contemplate.” + +He ran off, leaving Ricardo with his own thoughts, but when the +morning came, he was still of the same mind--he could not part with +Leonora, and if a marriage with Hannah Stubbs was the only way by +which to secure that end, a marriage there must be. He decided, +however, to keep his own counsel on the matter until he had left Mrs. +Battleby’s house. + +When his landlady brought up his breakfast on the following morning, +she informed him in a severe tone, that Mrs. Stubbs was down below and +would be glad to hear what were his intentions with regard to her +misguided daughter, as she had to return to Settlefield by the twelve +o’clock train. + +“My intentions are, as I told the woman last night, to provide for +Hannah,” replied the Professor, “Doctor Steinberg and I intend to take +a house and live together for the future, and we shall engage Hannah +to do our housework, and pay her at the rate of twenty pounds a year. +Will that satisfy her mother?” + +As Hannah had never received more than ten pounds before, Mrs. +Battleby said that she considered the Sig-nor’s offer to be very +handsome, adding “that she didn’t know ’ow it ’appened, but some +people was so lucky, they seemed allays to fall on their feet.” + +But when she rejoined her crony, Mrs. Stubbs, her sentiments appeared +to have undergone a change. + +“Now! wot wickedness do you think them two is up to?” she commenced. +“The Professor’s been just a’telling me that ’e and ’is accomplish the +Doctor, is going to set up ’ouse and keep Hannah atween ’em, and won’t +they be up to all sorts of mischief, the three on ’em together! I’ll +tell you what it is, Mrs. Stubbs, that gal of yourn is right-down +’ardened, she is, and don’t want no ’ome, nor mother, nor nothink! +She’d rayther be off with them two old scamps, so let ’er go, says I, +till she comes back to ’er senses.” + +“Well, if she’s got another sitivation, it’s all as I looks for, for +the gal must earn her living and learn to look arter ’erself into the +bargain. Joe Brushwood, he seems quite set against ’er like, and +wouldn’t come over this morning, though I arsked ’im ever so! ’Owever, +if Hannah’s pervided for, that’s all I arsks and I shall tell ’er +father as it’s all right, and she don’t want to marry Joe, for men are +so inquisitive and troublesome, there’s no a’bearing ’em. Well! +good-bye, Mrs. Battleby, and please to tell my gal as she’s seen the +larst of me and the rest, for we repugniates ’er!” + +And gathering her Scotch plaid shawl about her, Mrs. Stubbs laboured +up the area steps and was lost to view. Hannah did not come down to +her breakfast that morning, but appeared an hour later, with red eyes, +a swollen nose, and blubber lips that looked as if she must keep them +open in order to breathe. + +She did not speak for some time after she entered the kitchen, and +when she did, it was to ask when Mrs. Battleby expected her mother to +call. + +“Your mother!” exclaimed the landlady, in her shrill voice, “why, +she’s been and gone this hour!” + +“_Gone!_” cried Hannah, “and won’t she come back? Shan’t I see ’er +again?” + +“Not you, I guess, and she was glad enough to go, pore creetur, and +’ide ’er shame in the country. Your young man too--though in course ’e +ain’t your young man no longer--’e wouldn’t step in, not for a minute, +’e was so afeared of seeing you again. You’ve disgraced ’em all, +Hannah Stubbs, that’s the long and the short of it, and they don’t +want to look upon you no more, so the best thing you can do is to go +arter your old gentleman and see what ’_e_ can do for you.” + +“What old gentleman?” inquired the girl, “the Professor? O! ’e is +good, I know, and kind. ’E said that ’e would see as I never wanted +nothing, but ’e ain’t mother and ’e ain’t Joe!” + +And she commenced to weep afresh. + +“Now, look ’ere,” said Mrs. Battleby, “it’s no good your doing that. +It won’t bring ’em back to you, nor wipe out the ’arm you’ve done ’em. +You’d much better go upstairs and clear the Sig-nor’s breakfast +things, for that’s what you’ve got to do for the future, ’e tells me. +It’s your business now, plain enough, so just dry your eyes and do +your dooty, for I’ve got no time to waste over it to-day.” + +Hannah did as she was told, and the Professor took the opportunity to +tell her about the new cottage and what he intended her to do for him +there, and she went downstairs again, satisfied, that if she had lost +the good-will of her friends, she had not, at least, the prospect of +starvation before her eyes. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + +Karl Steinberg’s negociations for the cottage at Hampstead, proved +eminently successful. The rooms were too small for most tenants, so it +was still unlet, and before the end of the week, he had signed the +agreement for it, and had such articles of furniture as were +absolutely necessary, put in. Ricardo and Hannah moved to their new +abode on the appointed day--their departure being loudly lamented by +Mrs. Battleby, who, finding her quiet, well-behaved lodger had taken +her at her word, was very doubtful where she should find such another +occupant for her attics. + +The Professor was delighted at the prospect of the change. He had seen +the black draperies carefully taken down from the séance chamber--had +packed his precious books himself--and put together his few articles +of furniture, and now had the pleasure of looking forward to arranging +them in their place again, without any prospect of being turned out at +a moment’s notice. + +Hannah also, though still in great grief for the loss of her young man +and the anger of her mother, was much cheered by the idea of having +twenty pounds a year, and reigning sole mistress over the little +domicile at Hampstead. + +It was a tiny house, consisting of a sitting-room and kitchen on the +ground floor, with two bedrooms and two dressing-rooms above--the +larger of which were to belong to Ricardo and his friend, whilst +Hannah slept in one of the smaller, and the other was to be hung with +the black draperies and devoted to their séances. + +There was so much to do on first taking possession of the cottage, +that they determined to postpone the pursuit of their studies until +they felt more at home. The Professor had his teaching to attend to, +as usual, and the Doctor his hospital, and when they met in the +evenings they were too much engaged in carpentering and painting to be +able to attend to anything else. Meanwhile, however, the resolution he +had arrived at respecting Hannah Stubbs, had not deserted the +Professor’s mind, and it was not long before he mooted the question to +her. + +He saw more of the girl than the Doctor did. Steinberg had his +hospital duties to attend to, and occasionally they kept him from home +all the evening, but Ricardo’s work was more irregular. Sometimes he +had but two or three lessons to give during the day--sometimes eight +or nine. One day he would be employed all the morning and have his +afternoon free--on another, he would lounge in his arm-chair, robed in +a dressing-gown, and reading his favourite authors, until noon, and +rush away directly after his luncheon, not to appear again until it +was time for supper. + +Hannah had but little hard work to do, as neither of the gentlemen +took dinner at home, and their morning and evening meals were very +light. + +She had the whole day to scrub and polish the rooms, and being a clean +girl by nature, she took a pride in making them as bright as it was in +the power of soap and water to do. + +It was one of the Professor’s afternoons at home, and she was in the +midst of cleaning her little kitchen when he called her into the front +room. + +“Hannah, I feel lonely,” he said, “I want you to leave off work and +come and sit with me!” + +“Lor! Sig-nor, it’s impossible! I’se all of a muck, and the kitchen’s +flooded with water!” + +“Then wipe it up as soon as you can, and come to me. I want you to sew +some buttons on my clean shirt!” + +The girl did as she was desired, for amongst the anomalies that beset +this strange creature, was her capacity for needlework, the most +delicate of which did not seem to come amiss to her clumsy fingers. As +soon as she had mopped up her kitchen floor, she put on a clean apron +and brought her work basket into the Professor’s room. There she found +various articles awaiting her, to mend, and taking a chair at the +furthest end of the little apartment, she applied herself to her work. + +“Hannah!” said the Professor, presently, between the puffs of his +meerschaum pipe, “have you ever thought about getting married?” + +The girl reddened; looked up quickly; and then dashed her hand across +her eyes to brush away a tear. + +“Lor! Sir, in course I ’ave! You’re a’forgetting of Joe!” + +“To be sure! You must forgive me, Hannah! But you will never see any +more of Joe, you tell me!” + +“I don’t think so, Sig-nor! ’E’s a young man of ’is word, Joe is, and +what ’e says ’e sticks to,” replied Hannah, with a heavy sigh. + +“But you don’t mean to remain unmarried for ever, for his sake, do +you, Hannah? He is not worth it!” + +“I don’t suppose as any one else will want to marry me,” replied the +girl, humbly, “I knows as I ain’t much to look at, nor clever, nor +nothink of that sort, but I loved ’im, Sir, true, only ’e didn’t seem +to vally it!” + +“No! He was a fool,” said the Professor, “but all men are not the +same, Hannah! There are plenty that may want to marry you yet--and I +am one!” + +Hannah looked up quickly, as if she did not believe she could have +heard aright. + +“I begs your pardin, Sir, what did you say?” + +“I said that _I_ would marry you, if you are willing, Hannah, and then +you will at least be provided for, for life!” + +“But you’re quite an old man,” replied the girl, naïvely. + +Ricardo winced under the truth. + +“You are right,” he answered, presently, “I am old, at least compared +with that young cub who has kicked you off. But men older than myself +marry young wives every day, and I should make you a kind husband. I +am a gentleman also--you know that without my telling you--and a +gentleman raises the woman he marries, to his own position, and though +I am not a rich man, I am better off than you would ever be if you +married a man of your own standing. I am a very lonely man now, +Hannah, and you are a kind, amiable girl, and I am sure you would make +me a good wife. What do you say to my proposal? Shall we be married?” + +“You’re joking with me, Sig-nor,” said Hannah, “it can’t never be!” + +“Why not?” inquired Ricardo. + +“O! ’cos I’m so different from you every ways, and you’d be ashamed to +say I was your wife. And what would the Doctor say, too?” + +“Never mind the Doctor! This is a matter that concerns you and me +only. I don’t mean that we should go on differently from what we are +doing now. I am not rich enough to keep a servant to wait upon you! +You would have to look after the house and get the breakfast, just as +you do now. Only--you would be my wife and bear my name, and if I am +ever better off than I am at present, you will share my good fortune +with me.” + +“O! I’d be glad and proud to do all I can for you and the Doctor, +Sig-nor,--now and allays--” replied the girl. “Only--for ’tother--why +I can’t speak like a lady--you’d laugh at me for my hignorance and I’d +be shamed to open my mouth afore you, if so be I was, what you say.” + +“I know you have not had any advantages in the way of education, +Hannah, but I should be willing to teach you many things, and being +always with me, and hearing me talk, you would soon improve yourself. +Is it a bargain, or not?” + +“O! lor! Sir, I don’t know what to say, sure,” cried Hannah, in a +frightened voice. “It’s a honner, I know, but it don’t seem +nateral-like. And I’m not sure as it would be right, neither, for I +can’t ’elp thinking of Joe, and his falseness to me, and I can’t +promise to give it up, neither!” + +“I like you all the better for saying so, Hannah, and don’t imagine +that I shall expect you to love me! If you continue kind and +attentive, that is all that I shall ask. And if I did not believe that +you would be so, I should not wish you to be my wife, even if you were +a Princess of the Blood Royal. Cannot you make up your mind on the +subject?” + +“Well! I don’t suppose as I could do better,” replied the girl, with +another deep sigh, “so p’r’aps I’d better say ‘Yes’, Sir!” + +It was not a very ardent way of accepting his proposal, but Ricardo +wanted no more than her acquiescence. He did not even put down his +pipe to kiss the girl, nor press her hand. He only smiled and said, + +“Well! I’m glad you’ve come to that conclusion, and you and I will go +out together some day and get it quietly over.” + +He said nothing to Karl Steinberg on the subject until a week +afterwards, when he came in one morning, with the girl, from the +Registrar’s office, and told him that they were man and wife. + +Hannah grinned as the news was made public, but disappeared +immediately afterwards into the kitchen, to prepare the family +breakfast. + +Ricardo waited for Steinberg to speak, but he sat silent and apart, +with knitted brows, and a perplexed countenance. + +“And so, my dear friend, you have no congratulations to offer me?” +said the Professor at length. + +“Frankly, my dear Ricardo, no! You know what my sentiments are +regarding the step you have taken, which appears an act of madness to +me. However, it is done and cannot be undone, so the less said the +better.” + +“And you know the motives which induced me to propose it,” replied the +Professor. “They are not altered, Karl, they never will be! I feel as +if the ceremony of this morning had united me to Leonora over again. I +am as rapturously happy as if the grave had restored her to me. There +is no such thought as love, or any other nonsense, for this girl. I +will be good to her, but to me she is Leonora’s medium--nothing more! +Come! at least congratulate me on having reached the climax of my +desires regarding Occultism.” + +“I wish you all happiness and success in every possible way, my dear +Ricardo,” exclaimed Steinberg, as he stretched his hand across the +table and grasped that of his friend. “But here is Mrs. Ricardo with +our breakfast. I hope your morning stroll has given you a good +appetite, Professor!” + +“The best in the world,” cried the older man, gaily, as he drew his +chair to the table. + +Hannah had placed the coffee and rolls and eggs before them and was +about to return to the kitchen. + +“But surely your wife will breakfast with us, now?” remarked +Steinberg. + +“Of course! to be sure,” said the Professor. “Hannah, my dear, sit +down and take your breakfast with the Doctor and me!” + +“O! no, Sir, indeed I’d rayther not!” exclaimed the girl, as she beat +a retreat to her own quarters. Her husband smiled and shrugged his +shoulders. + +“Let her do as she likes,” he observed; “she will be happier in the +pursuits of her old life. And it would be most awkward to have her +always listening to our conservation, particularly at this juncture. +Steinberg, I must have a séance to-night. Will you try and come home +early? I have married to-day, not Hannah Stubbs, but my Leonora, and I +shall not close my eyes until I have seen and spoken to her again. The +last séance! I shall never forgive Mrs. Battleby for having +interrupted us! In another moment I should have held my wife in my +arms. But I will sit and sit for her, until that happy moment arrives. +Is the room quite ready?” + +“I finished it yesterday, and it is one of my leisure evenings, so +that I shall be back as soon as yourself. Tell Hannah--I beg your +pardon, I must call her Mrs. Ricardo now----” + +“No such thing!” cried the Professor, “continue to call her Hannah as +usual. I wish all things to go on exactly as before!” + +“Tell Hannah, then, to be sure and get us a good supper, for I feel so +much exhaustion after these séances, as if my brain and body were +alike scooped out and empty.” + +“Yes! yes! I will see to all that!” replied Ricardo, as they parted to +pursue their avocations. + +The Professor ordered his wife to procure a couple of fowls for +supper, which Hannah quite imagined was in honour of the morning +ceremony, and gave her five pounds as a wedding present, which +delighted the simple creature as much as if he had settled an income +upon her. + +But when he and Steinberg returned home and intimated their intention +to hold a séance in the dark chamber, Mrs. Ricardo showed signs of +insubordination, and vehemently opposed their desire. + +“O! no!” she exclaimed; “nothink won’t ever make _me_ henter that dark +’ole again! Wasn’t it that as brought the whole of my misfortins on my +’ead? It lost me Joe and mother and the rest, and I won’t never try it +again. You didn’t ought to arsk me, Sig-nor! You deceived me onst, and +I said it should be for the larst time. If I’d a known as when I went +to sleep, ghosties and sperrits and shadders walked about the room, +I’d ’ave chucked all the physic out of the winder. But never +again--no! not if you paid me a ’undred pounds!” + +And turning her back, Mrs. Ricardo walked away into her kitchen. + +The Professor and the Doctor looked at each other with comical dismay. + +“Is she in earnest, do you think?” whispered Ricardo to his friend. + +Steinberg made a grimace. + +“I don’t know I’m sure. I don’t know enough of women, but one thing is +certain--performing the office of a medium does not come within the +legalities of Marriage, and if she will not do it of her own free will +you have no means by which you can compel her!” + +The men were silent for a few minutes, and then the Professor +exclaimed, + +“Karl! don’t look at me in that way, as if you thought I’d bought ‘a +pig in a poke!’” + +“I don’t say that, but I think you have a difficult task before +you--to convince Ignorance that it is a duty which it owes to Mankind, +to sacrifice itself for the good of the Human Race. However, Hannah +has a kind heart and an amiable nature, and if you will have patience, +I daresay you may be able to induce her to do, for love of you, what +she would refuse on compulsion. Cheer up, Ricardo. Don’t look so +down-hearted, man, but tell your wife to get the supper ready and let +us all try to be jolly together!” + +“But I shall not see Leonora!” said the Professor, in a tone of +disappointment. + +“Not to-night, that’s certain, unless she comes to you in your dreams. +But it is only a pleasure deferred! Hannah will come round after a +while. Take my advice, and don’t mention the subject again to-night.” + +Ricardo did as his friend suggested, and when the supper was ready, he +insisted upon Hannah coming into the room and sitting down to table +with them. She was very shy and awkward, and looked all the time as if +she longed to bolt back to her own domains, but the two gentlemen +reassured her, by taking no notice of her ignorance of their ways, and +talking to each other, rather than to her. When the supper table was +cleared, Ricardo asked her to bring in her needle-work and sit with +them, but though she acquiesced in his desire, she did not reappear, +and the friends finished the evening alone. + +She felt that she had wounded her husband, and disappointed him in +some way, by refusing to go into the séance chamber, and she was +fearful of the request being renewed. + +The next day passed much the same. The Professor spoke kindly to her, +when he had occasion to speak, but he addressed her as seldom as +possible, and sat for the greater part of the time that he spent at +home, with his head buried in his hands. + +On the third day, whilst the Doctor was out, Hannah brought her +husband an apple-green merino dress, and a bright blue bonnet, and +some under-linen which she had purchased with part of the money he had +given her. + +“I never ’ad sich beautiful things in my life afore,” she said, with a +broad grin, as she displayed them for his approval, “ain’t they +’ansome?” + +“Very pretty, indeed, Hannah--very pretty!” replied the Professor, as +he returned to his book. + +“I never ’ad so much money in my ’and at a time afore either,” +continued Hannah, “and I thought these would be nice for me to walk +out with you, Sig-nor, in the Parks or elsewheres!” + +“Yes! my girl, yes!” he said, as he raised his head for an instant and +smiled at her. + +Ricardo’s smile was very sweet. It broke Hannah down completely, and +she began to sob. + +“Why! what’s the matter now?” he inquired. “Is there anything more +that you want, my dear? If there is, and I can afford it, it shall be +yours.” + +“O! no! no! ’tain’t that,” cried the girl, “but you’ve been that good +to me, Sig-nor, and I can see as you’re not ’appy, and I’m afeared +you’re sorry now that you was so foolish as to marry a pore, ignorant +creetur like me. I’d been fitter for Joe, Sir, but even ’_e_ didn’t +think me good enough, and I’m so feared you’ve repented of your +goodness to me.” + +And Hannah wept unaffectedly. The Professor drew her towards him and +kissed her wet cheek. “You are quite mistaken, my dear. I do not +regret, nor repent, anything. But if you really think that I have been +kind to you, wouldn’t you like to do something for me in return?” + +“I’d cut off my right ’and for you this moment,” replied Hannah, with +fervour. + +“Well, sit down by my side, and let me tell you a little story. When I +was a young man, Hannah, five-and-twenty years ago, I married a young +lady, whom I loved very much indeed!” + +“Lor!” cried the girl, “you was married to a real lady, and yet you +can bear with me!” + +“Well! she died! I need not tell you how she died, but her death made +me a very miserable man, because we had had a little misunderstanding +beforehand, and it happened so suddenly, that there was no time for a +reconciliation. The wish to see her, or hear from her again, haunted +me for years, but I thought there was no hope of it, until I fell upon +some old scientific books and learned that it is possible for those +whom we call dead, to re-visit this earth!” + +“Lor!” exclaimed Hannah, with wide open eyes, “but that’s all +rubbidge, sure-ly!” + +“Why! how can you ask me such a question? What do you suppose the +apparitions--the ladies and gentlemen--whom you see sometimes, are?” + +“I dunno, I’m sure! Shadders, I s’pose, but they gives me the creeps! +O! Sig-nor I can’t abear ’em! I’d rayther run a hundred miles the +other way.” + +“But why do you fear them, Hannah? They cannot harm you!” + +“I dunno that! They looks very queer sometimes, and the woices as I +’ears--gruff ’uns and squeaky ’uns!--they makes me trimble all over, +as if I’d got cold!” + +“But they cannot hurt you, Hannah,” persisted the Professor, “and when +I met you at Mrs. Battleby’s, and heard that you possessed that +wonderful capacity for seeing spirits, I was delighted. I felt that my +dead wife would come back to me through you, and she has! On three +occasions I have communicated with her, but not long enough to hear +her say that she has forgiven me, and loves me still--and now, just +when I hoped I should see her as often as I chose, you tell me you +will not sit with me any more! That is what has made me sad, Hannah.” + +Notwithstanding her rough training and ignorance, Hannah had much +natural intelligence, and she realised the situation at once. + +“That’s what you married me for, then,” she remarked. + +The Professor felt ashamed. He did not know what to say. He began by +answering, “No! no!” but broke off short. + +“I will not tell you a lie,” he said. “When I married you, my dear, I +certainly did hope that, having you always with me, I should also have +the constant pleasure of communicating with my dead wife. For I am +getting an old man now, Hannah, and I should like to make sure that +there is another life, before I quit this one. But all that I said to +you, when I asked you to become my wife, was true. I will make your +future my care to the utmost of my ability, and when I die, you will +find that you are not left quite penniless. My savings have been +scanty, but, such as they are, they will all be yours. It was your +mediumship (by which I mean your power of seeing and attracting +spirits from the other world), that first drew me to you, Hannah, but +if you really dislike sitting with me, I will not ask you to do so +again. And in all other things, you will find me the same, I hope, and +your friend, my dear, till Death parts us.” + +“I see,” said the girl, thoughtfully, “I’m to take all, as you may +say, and give nothink in return. I see it plain now, Professor, and +I’m not that sort, as you’ll find. I know you’re good and true, and +that you’ll take care as the sperrits and things don’t ’urt me, while +I’m asleep. So, if you please, I’ll sit as often as you wishes, and +we’ll go into the dark room to-night, as soon as the Doctor returns +’ome. I couldn’t ’ave ever wore this beautiful gownd,” added Hannah +with a sob in her throat, “and remembered the while as you give it me, +and I ’ad done nothink for you in return. So that’s settled, ain’t +it?--and you won’t never ’ear me say again as I won’t do anythink as +you arsk me!” + +And from that day the séances commenced anew. + + + + + CHAPTER X. + +Notwithstanding her acquiescence, Hannah displayed such genuine +terror at the idea of entering the dark séance room, that Ricardo had +pity on her, and held a sitting downstairs first, at which he +consulted “James” as to what was best to be done. By his advice, the +black hangings were taken down, and a cabinet formed by a curtain hung +across one corner of the apartment, behind which was placed a chair. A +lamp was lit and the two men were directed to sit at the table, +holding Hannah’s hands in either of theirs. Feeling herself in the +presence of her husband and his friend, the girl’s fears were allayed, +and in a few minutes, she went under control, and wresting her hands +from their grasp, rose and entered the cabinet of her own accord. Then +“James” told Ricardo and Steinberg to lower the light until it was a +mere glimmer--to close the door--and to seat themselves at the further +end of the little chamber. + +Steinberg was earnest in his pursuit of Science--Ricardo, in his +pursuit of Leonora--so they did as they were directed, and waited +patiently for the result. In an incredibly short space of time, the +curtain was shaken--then pulled asunder--and the laughing, mischievous +face of Leonora peeped out. The Professor was in ecstasy. He knelt +down upon the bare floor, as though he were worshipping a divine +creature. But his adoration was not given, because the appearance of a +spirit from the dead endowed him with the blessed certainty of +Everlasting Life, but because the materialised spirit was the creature +of his imagination. Steinberg, on the other hand, regarded the +appearance of Leonora with unstinted wonder and satisfaction, simply +because her coming was another step gained in the difficult task which +he had set himself to learn. As a Spirit, he hailed her advent with +the keenest interest--as a Woman, he did not admire either her person +or herself. She evinced none of the sorrow which a wife, whose +thoughtlessness at the least, had led her husband into a serious +crime, might have been supposed to feel--neither did she exhibit much +pleasure at meeting him again. Her behaviour was more that of a +coquette, who wished to regain the admiration she had forfeited, than +of a loving woman. She smiled and beckoned to Ricardo, but as soon as +he approached the cabinet, she would dart inside and be lost to view. +Apparently she was, or had been, a very handsome woman, but there was +nothing attractive in her appearance. Her large black eyes were void +of tenderness--her smiles were affected--each motion of her supple +body seemed made in order to raise Ricardo’s ardour, without +gratifying it. Had she not been his friend’s wife, the Doctor would +have called her by some opprobrious epithets--as it was, he regarded +her simply as a curiosity, and hailed her coming only because she +came. + +The advent of Mrs. Carlile had a different effect upon him. She had +been only his friend--scarcely that. Had she lived, he would have +spoken of her as his patient. But her unfortunate and early death, +occurring, as it did, under his own hands, had invested her memory +with a certain tender compassion, which gave him the right, as it +were, to hail her as a friend from the other Land. She came, not only +to convince him of the Great Truth, but to console and comfort him +under his disappointment. She came with pity and forgiveness beaming +from her eyes, and trembling on her lips, and made him feel, each time +he saw her, that Earth was valueless and the next World the Haven to +which we must look for consolation. + +The sittings, once more begun, were continued steadily every evening. +Neither Ricardo, nor Steinberg, were aware of the danger that might +accrue to the medium from these frequent séances. Hannah did not seem +to suffer from sitting, and once she had overcome her childish fear of +the Invisibles, declared herself ready to gratify their curiosity, +whenever they asked her to do so. + +Doctor Steinberg was only at home three evenings in the week, but the +Professor sat with his wife, whether his friend joined them or not, +and frequently in the daytime he would take Hannah up into the séance +chamber, and hold converse with Leonora all by himself. + +She did not always come to him. These things are not ordered by our +earthly wishes, and we have no control over them. Often, when +Steinberg was anxiously awaiting the arrival of Mrs. +Carlile--sometimes, when she had even promised to come to him--a +figure would emerge from the cabinet, and on inspection prove to be +that of an old man, utterly unknown to either of them--or a child +would run across the room, as if in play, and, startled by their +addressing it, run behind the curtain again and be seen no more. To +the doctor, who looked upon these manifestations as fresh proofs of +Immortality, one spirit was as good as another, but to the Professor, +whose whole thoughts were fixed upon Leonora, such disappointments +fell keenly, and he would not be satisfied until he had sat again to +give Leonora an opportunity of manifesting her presence to him. + +Accordingly, he took to having séances by himself, and Hannah, who +had never objected to doing as he asked since that first day, became +his willing victim. Indeed, the girl even seemed to grow to like being +a medium--her low spirits disappeared--she often went singing about +the house--and no more was heard of her false young man, nor of her +mother. + +One afternoon as the Professor sat alone in the séance chamber, with +Hannah entranced behind the curtain, the now familiar form of Leonora +stepped out of the cabinet. She was clothed in some soft, clinging +white material which showed plainly the lissom figure beneath it--her +dark hair was unbound and fell below her waist--her small white hand +beckoned him to approach her. Ricardo crept on tiptoe to the dark +curtain that divided them. He was quite alone--Steinberg was miles +away and Hannah lay unconscious in her chair--there was none but +Heaven to listen to what he might say to his lost wife. + +“Leonora!” he exclaimed, “my one, only Darling! Come to me and lay +your cheek on mine! Whatever you were, whatever you did, you are still +the same to me--the peerless, beautiful bride, whom I held to my heart +during so many blissful years! Do you remember the villa down in +Parma, to which I took you for our honeymoon, Leonora? Do you recall +the happy evening that we were first man and wife--how we wandered +into the gardens, and sat down on a bank, covered with delicious +violets whose breath intoxicated us with pleasure. You cast yourself +across my knees, and laid your lovely head upon my breast--then I +seemed to realise, for the first time, that you were all my own. Our +lips met--I drank in your sweet breath, sweeter than the violets upon +which we sat--and we mutually trembled with the ecstasy of the +contact. Ah! Leonora, my dearest, that was twenty-five long weary +years ago! I am an old man now, but I have never forgotten--I never +shall forget! Come once more and press your sweet lips to mine as you +did in that unforgotten moment, and I shall be rewarded for all the +efforts I have made--the sacrifice I have gone through--in order to +draw you once more to my heart again!” + +The tantalising face peeped out from the curtain--the lips pouted--but +as Ricardo drew near to kiss her, Leonora darted like an arrow into +the cabinet and evaded him. It was like the cup of Tantalus, ever +presented, brimming with sparkling liquid, only to be withdrawn as +soon as approached. + +The Professor breathed a heart-felt sigh as he leaned against the +curtain, to see if he could hear any movement going on behind it. But +all was still as the grave! + +“My wife--my wife----” moaned the unhappy man, “speak to me, if you +cannot touch me. I feel the reason. My contact is too earthly for you, +pure as you have become!--the hands that slew you are too foul to +clasp with yours. But tell me--Leonora! I am hanging on your +words--tell me the whole truth. You know I could not be angry with you +now! _Were you guilty with Centi?_” + +The mobile face again appeared round a corner of the curtain, and the +rosy lips murmured, “No!” + +“_No?_ O! my God! then I am a murderer of the deepest dye! I have +slain my other half--she, whom I had sworn to love and cherish! What +Hell will be deep enough for me? What devil urged me on to strike that +fatal blow? Heavens! I can see it now, your pallid, startled face--the +crimson blood that stained your white breast--that issued from your +livid lips--can hear the sigh with which your pure spirit took wing, +to bear witness against me before the Throne! O! Leonora, my wife! my +angel! say that you forgive my rash act--my unfounded jealousy!” + +The Spirit again appeared, and nodded its head solemnly. + +“I knew you would forgive, dear Angel, who were so much too good for +such a wretch as I am, but will Heaven forgive? that is the question? +Shall I join you wherever you may be? Shall we be lovers and friends +again in the Eternal World?” + +But to this question there was no reply. Ricardo knelt where he had +stood, and wept like a child. His life had been one long suffering for +the awful deed he had committed, and now, to hear that it had been +done in vain--that he had murdered an innocent woman--she, who, but +for his insensate jealousy and fury, might have lived to be the mother +of his children and the pride and comfort of his old age--was too +much. It smote him to the ground, and struck a blow at his heart, from +which he never recovered. + +He felt that he could bear no more and left the séance room, without +further comment. Even to Steinberg, he never revealed what had taken +place between himself and Leonora that day, but he seized every +opportunity of communicating with her, until he came to spend half his +leisure moments in the séance chamber. + +Doctor Steinberg perceived the alteration in his friend’s spirits, but +attributed it to his health, which was not satisfactory. The Professor +still went about his daily work, but he taught in a spiritless, +listless fashion, and his pupils were not so quick to follow his +instructions as they were wont to be. When he returned home, instead +of interesting himself in a book, as he had been used to do, he would +sit for hours with folded arms, silent and meditative. The only times +when he evinced any enthusiasm, were those spent in the séance +chamber, though Leonora came no oftener than the other influences who +controlled Hannah, and when she did come, gave scarcely any +information on subjects connected with her present life. + +But if the Professor’s health and spirits appeared to fail, those of +Mrs. Ricardo rose in proportion. She seemed to have entirely overcome +her dread of the “sperrits” and “shadders” and “woices”, and often +said it was unfair that the Doctor or the Professor did not sit in +their turn, and let her share their privilege of interviewing the +friends from the other World. From having been heavy and somewhat +sullen, she developed quite a lively disposition, and Steinberg was +astonished sometimes on reaching home, to hear her singing over her +work, an accomplishment for which she had never exhibited any taste +before. + +She became less shy also of remaining in the society of her husband +and his friend, and made a point of taking her meals with them, by +which means she soon got in the way of joining in the conversation, +and dropped many of her coarse sayings and mispronounced words. + +She improved so quickly indeed, as to surprise Steinberg, who had +imagined her hitherto to be one of the dullest mortals in creation. It +was not long before he mentioned the subject to the Professor. + +“How wonderfully Hannah has improved in her pronunciation, lately,” he +remarked. “I couldn’t have believed it possible that any one could +have made such rapid strides. Have you been giving her private lessons +during my absence, Ricardo?” + +“No! indeed,” answered the Professor, in the weary tone he had assumed +of late, “I seldom see her, except in the séance room. Has she +improved, Steinberg? I had not noticed it. But there was room for it, +Heaven knows! I suppose it is listening to our conversation.” + +“I suppose so too, but Hannah must be very clever naturally, to have +caught our accent so soon. And she is so much more lively into the +bargain. I heard her singing, or rather humming, the air of ‘_Au clair +de la lune_,’ yesterday. Now, where can she have caught that up? It is +essentially French. She must have heard you, or me, whistling it. And +did you observe this evening that she has plaited that mass of hair of +hers, and twisted it round her head at the back? We shall see her +wearing kid boots with heels next. Bravo! Hannah!” + +“You look at her more than I do,” replied Ricardo. “She is a good +enough girl, and I have no fault to find with her. But I hope she will +not get any extravagant ideas, because I cannot afford to humour them. +I wonder who can have been putting such absurd notions into her head.” + +“No one, unless it be yourself. You should feel flattered, Ricardo, +that your wife shows any wish to please you. She is certainly vastly +improved. You cannot find fault with her for that! What have you been +doing with yourself to-day? Talking with Leonora, eh?” + +“I entered the séance room, but she did not come,” replied Ricardo, +in a discontented tone, “she has not been so regularly lately. I +cannot understand the reason. Can it be any falling-off in the medium? +Would her want of interest in Spiritualism account for it?” + +“No! no! certainly not!” Steinberg quickly exclaimed. “How can you +expect the poor girl to take any interest in it, when she is under +control all the time, and knows nothing of what occurs. Hannah has +more than once expressed her disappointment to me, that she should be +so completely shut out from what seems to give us so much pleasure. I +think it is most unselfish of her to sit so often and so cheerfully. +Besides, she is as strong in health as ever! How can she be +responsible for Leonora not coming so often?” + +“I don’t know,” said Ricardo, peevishly, “but the fact remains. An old +woman whom I cannot recognise, seems to have taken her place the last +few days. I dare not show my impatience at the change, but I am +longing all the time for her to go away and let my wife come instead.” + +“Ah! my friend, you are not a Scientist! You do not pursue this +interesting study in order to find out the secret of Everlasting Life, +but only to gratify your personal longing to see your dead wife again. +And now that she has come, you are less satisfied than before. What is +the reason? Has she not spoken to you? Has she not solved the mystery +that oppressed you? Are you not yet aware whether that blow was struck +with justice, or not?” + +“If I were, I should not feel inclined to discuss the question with +one who was a stranger to her,” said Ricardo, in a tone very unlike +himself. “The confidences which pass between husband and wife should +be sacred.” + +“I agree with you there, so let us say no more about it. You mooted +the subject to me, or I should not have presumed to mention it again. +But I think you sit too often. These researches, if carried to +extremes, are apt to prove harmful to both mind and body. Come to the +theatre with me this evening! It will divert you. I have a box for the +Adelphi. Let us take Hannah with us. She is so much more lively +lately, that I think it will interest her. She seems to be enjoying +life, poor child, for the first time.” + +The Professor being agreeable, Steinberg’s plan was carried out, and +Hannah thoroughly enjoyed her evening. The Doctor was not mistaken. +The change in her was quite as palpable as that in her husband. Live +as long as she might, she would never have a lissom figure, nor a +beautiful face, but a kind of brightness had settled over her +features, which much redeemed their homeliness, and her attempts at +tidiness did not at all events deteriorate from them. + +She laughed and cried at all the right places throughout the melodrama +and returned home in high good humour with both her friends. + +But what still more surprised Steinberg, as time went on, was to see +the gross humility that had overpowered the girl, entirely disappear, +to give place to a species of pride in her attainments as a medium--as +if she had suddenly waked up to a consciousness of the value she was +to Ricardo, and the difficulty he would find in replacing her, if she +were gone. + +“I can’t sit to-day,” he overheard her say to the Professor, “so it’s +no good your asking me! Can’t you see that I’m dead tired from sitting +so long yesterday? Do you suppose that I don’t waste my strength, as +well as yours, over these séances? And what is it all for?--so that +you may see the woman you cared for, and talk love nonsense to her! I +tell you, Professor, there ain’t many wives in this world who would do +as much for their husbands. You treats me as if I had no feelings. I’m +making a dress for Sundays, and haven’t been able to put a stitch in +it all the week, so you must wait for your séance till I choose to +give it you.” + +“Very well,” Steinberg heard Ricardo answer meekly, “never mind, my +dear! I’ll go for a little walk instead.” + +As soon as he had left the house, Steinberg took Hannah to task for +her treatment of him. + +“I am surprised to hear you speak like that to your husband, Hannah! +Do you know what I should have done if you had been my wife?” + +“But I ain’t your wife,” replied Hannah, with a certain arch look that +startled him--so little had he considered the girl capable of giving +it with her usually dull, lack-lustre eyes. + +“I am quite aware of that! You’d have to obey me if you were! But you +have no right to speak so rudely to the Professor, especially when you +consider that you owe everything to him.” + +“Do I?” retorted the girl, “I think the boot’s on the other foot! I +consider that he owes everything to me! Haven’t I brought his wife +back to him, that he was hankering after for years. Who else could +’ave done that, eh? Why! I’ve heard you say yourself, that I’m the +most wonderful medium in the world! I think it’s six of one and half a +dozen of the other, when you come to look at it.” + +“Maybe, Hannah, and I know you make him a good kind wife on the whole. +But you mustn’t forget that he’s an old man now, and has broken down +considerably during the last few months. So you must be more +considerate of him than ever. He works too hard for his strength. +Sometimes I am afraid it will not hold out much longer!” + +“O! he’s all right,” said Hannah, with a lack of feeling that struck +the Doctor as not only very unlike her usual disposition, but very +contemptible into the bargain. “Them old men never die! Though I don’t +s’pose there’d be much left for me, if he did!” + +“You are unfeeling--unnatural--I am ashamed of you, Hannah,” exclaimed +Steinberg, as he rose to leave her, “and you forget that you are +speaking of _my friend_. I have a great affection for the Professor, +and if anything happened to him, I should be deeply grieved.” + +“Well, I didn’t say any ’arm,” replied the girl sullenly, as she +returned to her work. + +This conversation did not seem to make any coolness on Hannah’s part +towards the Doctor--on the contrary, she appeared to like him all the +better for speaking in defence of his friend. She commenced to hang +about him more than usual, on the occasions of his being at home, and +once or twice Steinberg detected a tone in her voice, or a glance in +her eye, which struck him unpleasantly at the moment, and still more +so, when he came to reflect upon the cause. What could she mean by +them? Surely, she could never imagine that he would play his nearest +friend false, for the sake of a face and figure like hers? + +He put the idea away from him, again and again, as derogatory to +himself and the honour of Ricardo’s wife--but it haunted him all the +same. Has the reader ever encountered pictured eyes of villainy or +lust which have seemed to follow him wherever he went? So did the eyes +of Hannah Ricardo follow Steinberg, until he was fain to remember +them, whether he would or no. She never betrayed herself, nor said a +word that might be construed to her own undoing--but she gave +Steinberg the impression, that the feeling was there, all the same. + +He began to avoid her, as much as possible, leaving the cottage as +early as he could, and returning late. He was rather an attractive +young man, as has been said before--being only thirty years old, and +having a fair German face, which struck most people as pleasant to +look upon. + +He was just pondering upon the best excuse for dissolving partnership +with the Ricardos altogether, when the Wheel of Fortune did for him +what he was contemplating doing for himself. He had come to London +poor and without expectations, when by one of those strokes of good +fortune that do occasionally happen in this world, a rich uncle of his +died suddenly in Berlin, and left him his entire fortune. He rushed to +the Professor with the news, almost unable to believe it to be true. + +“My dearest friend, I am a wealthy man! My good uncle the Baron von +Steinberg, who was the richest publisher in Berlin, has died and left +me everything--everything! Congratulate me! Give me your hand! Let me +feel that my best friend is glad with me! _Ach! Himmel!_ we will be +happy now, and have a good time together.” + +“A thousand congratulations, my dear Steinberg,” cried the Professor, +warmly wringing his hand. + +“But I must leave you! I must go to Berlin without delay. The lawyers +have written for me. As yet I know nothing but the fact, but when I +get there, I will write to you, dear Ricardo, and tell you all.” + +“And won’t you come back to the cottage?” inquired Hannah. + +“I do not know, Hannah. All is vague at present, except that this good +luck has befallen me! My uncle’s fortune amounted, so I am told, to +many thousand pounds a year, so perhaps I may have to live in Berlin. +I cannot tell, but be sure of one thing--that I will never forget you, +my dear Ricardo, nor all the interest you have shown in me. Farewell!” + +The men grasped hands again, whilst Hannah looked on and murmured, + +“Thousands of pounds a year! Some people are lucky! Why didn’t _he_ +take a fancy for me, instead of the other?” + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + +The Professor felt very dull for the first few days after Karl +Steinberg had left them for Berlin. He rejoiced at the good fortune +that had befallen his friend, but he feared it might prove a +separation between them. With only Hannah to talk to, he felt more +lonely than he had ever done in Mrs. Battleby’s apartments. + +He watched for the post eagerly, to bring him news of his absent +companion, and in about ten days his patience was rewarded by +receiving a letter from Steinberg. + +The Doctor wrote gaily and enthusiastically. He seemed not to have a +care left in the world. + + + “Congratulate me, my very kind friend,” he commenced; “I am a + wealthier man than I imagined. We laid my good uncle to rest in the + family vault of the Von Steinbergs, three days after my arrival in + Berlin. He was a childless man, and when the will was read I found + that (with the exception of a liberal life-allowance to his widow) he + had left everything, without reserve, to your humble servant. His + house in Berlin--his château at Wiesbaden--his fortune, amounting to + between three and four thousand a year--and all his personal property, + which includes one of the finest private picture galleries in the + country. + + “Am I not lucky? I feared at first lest this generous bequest should + involve my living in Germany, perhaps looking after landed estate or + farming country property (which is not at all in my line, my dear + Ricardo, as you are aware). But no! Even here, I am fortunate, as the + greater part of the legacy is in hard cash, and the houses can readily + be disposed of. I am free, therefore, to do as I like and live where I + choose, and all my wishes tend towards London, the grandest city in + the world. You may expect, therefore, before very long, to see me + again. + + “I shall take a house in Town, and collect around me all those whom I + love, or take an interest in. And for the future, I shall resume my + right of writing ‘von’ before my name, which I dropped when I entered + on my duties at the Hospital. Ah! those dreary days and sleepless + nights! Thank Heaven! they are over for ever! I can, at least, live + the remainder of my life as best pleases myself. But I can never, + never, under any circumstances, forget my very best friend, and you + know what his name is, without my telling you. + + “The first place I visit on my return, will be the little cottage at + Hampstead, when, tell Mrs. Ricardo, I shall expect her to brew the + very best cup of tea of which she is capable, in honour of my uncle’s + fortune and title. + + “Ever yours, with warm affection, + “Karl von Steinberg.” + + +The Professor read this letter to himself--then aloud to +Hannah--finally laying it down upon the table with a deep sigh. + +“Ain’t you glad?” demanded his wife, shrewdly regarding the old man, +“the Doctor’ll ’ave a fine ’ouse now, and everythink of the best, and +that’s as good as saying as you’ll ’ave it,--and me, too, eh?” + +“I don’t know, Hannah,” he replied; “when men grow rich, they are too +often apt to forget their poorer friends. Besides, Von Steinberg’s +fortune will attract people of equal position round his table, and we +are not fit to associate with such.” + +“Why not?” asked Hannah, broadly. + +She had a household broom in her hands at the time, and she leant her +chin upon the handle, and stared the Professor well in the face. + +“Why ain’t we as good as any other of ’is friends--let them be who +they may?” she asked, fixing her large eyes upon him. + +“Well! my dear, it is rather unnecessary to put such a question,” +replied Ricardo, “money makes money, you know, and we have none. Karl +will have a grand house, doubtless, and give big parties, and rich and +titled people will attend them--people with whom you and I have +nothing to do! He is not only rich, you see! He is no longer a doctor, +but a Baron, and can hold his own with any one in the land.” + +“Ain’t a Markiss higher than a Baron?” demanded Hannah, and her +husband, not dreaming in what direction the conversation was tending, +answered gravely, “Why! of course!” + +“Then, you’re higher than him,” retorted his wife, “so why shouldn’t +you mix with any nobs as he gets round him?” + +Ricardo looked up in amazement. + +“_I_ am higher than Von Steinberg? What do you mean?” he said. + +“Why! ain’t you a Markiss?” reiterated Hannah, still sturdily +regarding him from over the broom; “the Markiss of Sorrento? If you’re +bigger than the Doctor, why should you mind going among ’is friends? +Money don’t count beside name. I’ve often ’eard you say that to me.” + +“But who--_who_--” said the Professor, stammering, “ever told you +anything about my having a title? Has Steinberg betrayed my trust? You +have never known me, except as Professor Ricardo! What do you mean by +all this talk about a Marquis?” + +Hannah looked as if she had been suddenly struck foolish. The light +faded out of her flat, unmeaning face--she seemed as if she were +scared at what she had been led into saying. + +“I don’t know, I’m sure,” she replied, with a quivering lip, as if she +were about to cry, “unless I dreamt it! Some one must ’ave told it me. +Markiss dee Sorrento! Yes! that’s it! Markiss dee Sorrento! There’s a +woice repeating it in my ears now! And--and--_the proof of it_ is in +that drawer,” she continued rapidly, as she slapped her hand down upon +a small writing-table where the Professor kept his private papers. + +Now the title deeds of the marquisate and lands of Sorrento were still +in the Professor’s possession, lest a change of dynasty might restore +his family rights to him. But he always kept them in a small iron safe +under his bed. He had destroyed every other trace of the rank and +position he had once held amongst men, and felt certain that nothing +could be found in his desk to betray them. So he answered, somewhat +pettishly, + +“These voices in your ears, Hannah, are not telling you the truth! You +had much better go and attend to your household duties, and leave off +talking rubbish!” + +But at these words Hannah turned a face upon him, which he could +hardly recognise as her own. Her usually dull eyes were blazing with +passion--and her tones were loud and authoritative, as she exclaimed, + +“It is _you_ who are not telling the truth! The proofs of what I say +are in that drawer, and I will not leave the room until you open it!” + +The Professor was really frightened. He felt confident that nothing +was in the drawer that could identify his name and title, so, more to +pacify her and restore peace between them than to prove his word, he +drew forth his bunch of keys, and inserting one in the keyhole, pulled +the drawer open. It apparently contained nothing but odd sheets of +writing paper, and a few old letters. + +“Now! are you satisfied that you are wrong?” he said, turning to his +wife. + +But Hannah seemed possessed by the fury of a demon. She flew at the +papers and scattered them all over the floor by a twist of her hand. +Still she was not content, but scratched about the bottom of the +receptacle as if she were blind or acting under some spell, when she +suddenly ceased, and drew from the inmost recesses of the drawer, a +small card, yellow with age, which had become wedged at the back. She +held it to the light with a discordant chuckle of triumph. On it was +printed in flourishing Italian characters, “Marchese di Sorrento.” + +“What is that?” she cried, holding it out to the Professor, “is that +your name, or is it not?” + +Ricardo was fain to confess the truth. + +“Sit down, Hannah, my dear,” he said, “compose yourself, I beg of you! +There is no need for you to be angry with me! Be patient and I will +tell you the whole story.” + +“Is that your name, or is it not?” repeated the girl, as she +flourished the card in his face. + +“Yes! yes! it is, will that content you? But I shall never use it +again, Hannah! I have very good reasons for not doing so, and you must +regard this discovery on your part as if it had never been. Do you +understand me?” + +“I don’t know as I do,” said Hannah; “this is your true name, you +say?” + +“Yes! I am the Marchese di Sorrento,” replied Ricardo, with some +degree of pride, “but, as I said before, I have discarded the title +and consider that it is no longer mine! I am sorry you ever found it +out, my dear. I should never have told you myself, but as it is, you +must forget it as soon as you can.” + +“If it’s your name, it’s mine too,” said Hannah, with an obstinate +look about the mouth. + +“It _would_ have been so, had I retained it,” interposed the +Professor, quietly, “but since I choose to be known only as Signor +Ricardo, my wife is Madame, or Mrs. Ricardo--nothing more!” + +“If it’s mine, it’s mine,” returned Hannah, doggedly, “and I don’t see +why I’m to be called out of my name! Why should Mrs. Barnett, the +grocer’s wife, call me ‘Missus’, when she ought to say ‘my lady?’ I +’eard ’er telling another customer larst night, as I was a foreigner! +Like ’er impidence! I’ll shew ’er if I’m a foreigner! I’ll make ’er +say ‘my lady’ next time she speaks to me, or I’ll get all our things +from Addison’s.” + +“Hannah! Hannah! for Heaven’s sake, don’t make us the laughing stock +of Hampstead,” exclaimed the Professor, in genuine distress, “however +true the story may be, no one will believe it from your lips. They +will ask you, if you are a lady, _why_ you do all the house-work by +yourself. Such people as you speak of, only value their acquaintances +by the amount of money they may happen to possess.” + +“And I don’t see why I shouldn’t ’ave a servant to help me!” replied +Hannah, boldly. “If I’m a Markiness, it isn’t fit as I should cook and +scrub and what not, making my ’ands filthy, and spoiling my +complexion. I’ve been going to speak to you about that afore, +Professor--I mean Markiss----” + +“O! Hannah! for God’s sake, don’t call me by that name!” cried poor +Ricardo, with both his fingers in his ears. + +“Well! I’m sure!” exclaimed his wife. “I s’pose _she_ called you by +it, or summat very similar, but I ain’t good enough, eh? Well! since +I’ve a right to it, I’m going to use it, and so I tells you straight, +and the sooner you gets accustomed to it, the better. ’Tain’t much as +I got by marrying of you, Markiss, so you might as well leave me the +name. ’Twon’t bring in bread and butter anyway!” + +“I know it, and what is the use of using a title which you cannot keep +up in appearance? We have only enough money to live on, and I see no +chance of our ever having more.” + +“I don’t know about that!” replied the girl, with a cunning look, “I +know of a way by which money could be made, and pretty sharp, too.” + +“What do you mean? If you are correct, you will find me willing enough +to take advantage of it!” + +“Well! you just give out as I can make the sperrits and things walk +about the room, and make folks pay to come and see them, and you’d +make a fortune. I’ve ’eard Steinberg say so, times out of mind!” + +“O! no! no!” exclaimed the Professor, in disgust. “What! make the +vision of my Leonora common property? Let every Jack and Jill, who has +the money to enable them, come and gape at her, sharers with me in +this heavenly pleasure! Never! Hannah, never! I cannot prevent your +adopting my title if you refuse to comply with my request that you +should not do so, but I utterly forbid your turning your divine gift +into a merchandise. I am afraid you have never estimated it at its +real value!” + +“No! I can’t say I see much fun in it myself,” replied Hannah, +grinning, “but it got me out of a precious muddle, didn’t it? I don’t +know what I should have done at that time, Professor, if you ’adn’t +taken a fancy to sperrits and things!” + +“You appear to have conquered all your fear of them, Hannah,” remarked +the Professor, musingly. “You have altered in many ways lately! I +never hear you object to the cabinet now, nor express terror of the +spirits, in any way.” + +“I’ve no call left to be feared of them,” replied his wife, still +grinning, as if her mediumship were an excellent joke. “They’re allays +after me, day and night! I’ve got so used to them, that I don’t take +no more notice of them than I do of you. Let them go on with their +larks, and leave me to go on with mine!” + +“And your father and mother, and Joe, Hannah?” continued the +Professor, a little wistfully; “do you never think of them now, +either?” + +It seemed as if he would have liked to hear her say that she still +hankered after her people and her home. But her grin remained +unabated. + +“Not often,” she replied; “they ain’t no good to me now! As for Joe, +he may go to the devil for aught I care!” + +“O! hush! hush! hush!” cried the Professor. + +“It’s of no use your saying, ‘’ush! ’ush! ’ush!’ to me, Sig-nor! You +don’t want me to be ’ankering after a young man now that I’m the +Markiness dee Sorrento, do you? Which I don’t, I’m sure! I often +wonders ’ow I could ever ’ave fancied Joe, with his coarse ’air, and +his pig’s eyes! I’m sure if I ’ad my rights and a ’ouse fit for a +Markiness, I would never arsk ’im into it! I’d ’ave no one under a +Barrow-knight, or a squire, within the walls. I should know ’ow to +play my part, you bet, Professor--I means, Markiss!” + +Ricardo sighed. + +“Well! my poor girl, I fear you will never have the opportunity of +trying it,” he said. “But will you give me a séance this evening! I +feel rather low-spirited, and it will cheer me and do me good.” + +“O! you can ’ave it and welcome,” replied Hannah, “but, I say Markiss, +it do seem a pity now, to ’ave all this fuss, and two good hours +wasted, only for you, don’t it? And if we ’ad a dozen or so of +strangers with their ’alf guinea each, why, I’d make more in a night +than you can do in a week.” + +She hung coaxingly over him, as she spoke, but Ricardo put her away, +as though the suggestion had come from the Evil One. + +“I have said ‘No!’ already, and I would repeat it a thousand times!” +he ejaculated. “You don’t know what you are talking of! Your +insinuation is a desecration of the angel, for whom alone I value your +services.” + +“Didn’t _she_ like being a Markiness?” asked Hannah, as she left the +room to make some little preparations before the séance. + +Her remark set Ricardo thinking how much all women are alike. + +“How they love a title!” he pondered inwardly. “Although Leonora was +of noble birth, I can well remember her pleasure, less roughly +expressed than that of this poor untutored girl, but still the same, +when she first assumed my name, and heard herself called Marchesa di +Sorrento. + +“And how proud I was of her, with her lovely face and swan-like +figure, all life and grace! She looked a Marchioness, from the crown +of her noble head to her dainty feet. But this poor, uncouth child of +nature! I never thought of the disgrace to my title, when I married +her! Steinberg reminded me of it, but I considered it dead, and myself +only as a drudging teacher! How did she find out about it, I wonder! +It is inconceivable--still more, that she should take such a keen +pleasure in assuming it! Well! it is a misfortune, but I cannot +prevent her! It _is_ her name beyond all dispute, and if she will use +it, she must! + +“But how changed she has become during the last few weeks. Sometimes I +regard her with amazement and cannot believe she is the same Hannah I +married! Where is her timidity--her stolidity--her implacable good +humour--her fear of me and Von Steinberg, flown? She has become brisk +and pert, almost dominant in her manner--and at times I catch a look +in her eye, as though her soul had but just waked up and was +astonished at its own power. Yet with it all, I like her better--yes! +there is decidedly something that I like better in Hannah now, than +when I first married her! + +“But this folly about assuming her title! How I wish Von Steinberg +would hasten home, that he might reason her out of it!” + +Here, his wife’s voice summoned him to the séance chamber, and he was +soon absorbed in watching for the wonders which his sittings with her +revealed to him. + +One point had rather worried him lately, and that was the defection of +his beloved Leonora, or rather, the little advance which she made +towards development. Ricardo had imagined on commencing his studies in +Occultism, that the apparitions would grow with the growth of his +knowledge of them, and from being visible but silent, would progress +in language, as in familiarity, until they would converse with him as +easily as if they stood face to face on earth, or in Heaven. + +He had a thousand things to ask of Leonora. He yearned to ascertain +where she now lived--how she employed herself--what associates she +had--and how her spirit life was sustained in her; above all, by what +mystical wonder, she managed to leave her Heavenly dwelling-place and +visit him in the little dark chamber, which he called his séance +room, and through the instrumentality of so rough and untutored a +medium as Hannah Stubbs. + +But though he addressed such queries to the apparition of Leonora +night after night, he never received any satisfactory reply. A shrug +of the shoulders--a shake or nod of the head--a whispered “Yes!” or +“No!” seemed to be the extent of information he could receive from +her. + +Naturally, having been her husband, he longed to touch her again, to +put his lips to hers, or to grasp the little white hand which was +invariably thrust through the curtain to greet him. + +But such favours were sparingly accorded him. If he were permitted to +touch her hand, it was only to pat the outside of it--if her face were +advanced to meet his, it merely brushed his cheek, like the fluttering +of a butterfly’s wing. And, as he had complained to Von Steinberg, her +visits had become far less frequent than they had been at first. +Strangers, in whom he felt but sparse interest, had taken her place +and usurped the time and power, which he considered Leonora’s. + +But this evening, after an interval of several days, she appeared. Her +dark eyes peeped at him through a veil of gossamer, which fell to her +feet, and her lissom form swayed itself to and fro, as though loath to +leave the sheltering curtain. + +Ricardo was in the lowest spirits. He could think of nothing but the +subject that immediately disquieted him. + +“My beautiful Marchesa!” he said, as Leonora’s form appeared at the +entrance of the cabinet, “can you guess how distasteful it is to me to +hear the title which you adorned, usurped by another? _She_ a +Marchesa! O! it is impossible!--degrading--poor uncouth, ignorant +creature! she little knows the height to which she aspires. She could +as soon sit as Queen, upon the throne of England! Forgive me, sweetest +Love, that I should have given this ungainly servant the semblance of +your position. But she is not _my wife_, Leonora! You know it! Her +name is but an empty sound! I have been widowed since the fatal night +that saw your pure spirit wing its flight to Heaven, and I shall +remain widowed till we meet again. But tell me, dearest, what shall I +do? What do you advise me to do? Is Hannah to have her own way in +this, or not?” + +The form of Leonora nodded its head. + +“Is it part of my punishment for having sent you to your account, +whilst still in the bloom of your youth and beauty, to have brought +this trouble on my head? Must I endure it, as a penance, that shall +bring me, all the sooner, to your dear feet?” + +The figure nodded its head a second time. + +“Then I _will_ bear it--even to hear her called by the title which I +was so proud to bestow upon you--if it will only reunite us one moment +sooner than I hoped for.” + +The Professor, in his anxiety to gain the approval of his former wife +for all he did and said, did not consider that he put the words he +wished to hear her say into her mouth, or, rather, that he accepted +her acquiescence as a sign that she understood the case, and his +reasons for it. If Leonora approved of Hannah being styled Marchesa di +Sorrento, it should be exactly as she wished and vice versa. The next +question was put with some amount of trepidity. + +“And do you consider that she ought to have a servant?--that the work +is too hard for her, and unbefitting her position as my wife? Ought I +to allow her to make her powers public, or shall I keep them entirely +for myself, as now?” + +Leonora shook her head vehemently. + +“It will not militate against our meeting, Leonora, nor interfere in +any way with your appearance? Ah! my beloved, think what I have +sacrificed, in order to obtain this great privilege! It would break my +heart if you were to desert Hannah, because others kept you away.” + +The figure bent forward until its lips touched the Professor’s face, +and whispered, + +“Better! much better!” + +“Then it shall be so!” exclaimed Ricardo, though he sighed whilst he +said the words; “I will put no further obstacle in the way of her +wishes. Anything--anything--that shall make your path more easy to +you, and bind us more nearly together. But O! my Leonora! how I long +sometimes for the happy day when Death, like a kindly friend, shall +lead me out of this world of perplexity, into the Land of Light, where +I shall meet you again, in all the radiance of your spiritual youth +and beauty!” + +The Spirit patted him gently on the head, but Ricardo did not raise +his face from his hands for the remainder of the séance. When Hannah +came to herself, she found him sitting so, almost as lost to all +external things as she had been. + + + + + CHAPTER XII. + +A few weeks after the events related in the last chapter, as Mrs. +Battleby was helping her wretched drudge to wash up the miscellaneous +assortment of plates, dishes, cups, saucers and tumblers, sent down by +her various lodgers, and harrying the girl’s soul out, by constant +adjurations to make more haste, she was startled by the sound of a +loud double knock on the front door. + +“Now! ’oo on hearth can that be calling at this time o’ night?” she +exclaimed testily, as she wiped her hands on her canvas apron. “’Ere, +’Liza, ’and me over that clean apron _do_, and don’t stand gaping at +me there! I declare, you put me ever so much in mind of that great, +hulking fool, Hannah Stubbs, which I’ve never forgiven ’er mother to +this day for putting her upon me! It might be some one arter the +hattics, for I’ve known ’em to come, when pressed, as late as ten +o’clock at night. Now! go on with your washing-up, and don’t be +a’follerin’ me to hear what they may say, for it’s no concern of yourn +any way.” + +Saying which, Mrs. Battleby left the lower regions and ascended to +answer the hall door. + +It was a dark night, and all she could distinguish at first was, that +a female figure stood on the door steps. + +“Who do you please to want, Ma’am?” she inquired. + +“Is Mrs. Battleby at home?” asked the stranger, in her turn. + +“Yes! Ma’am, I be Mrs. Battleby, but if it’s rooms as you want, I’ve +none to let but the hattics, which was occupied last by a gentleman of +very high degree!” + +“Lor! Mrs. Battleby! I don’t believe you know me!” exclaimed the +visitor, as she pushed her way into the passage, and leant up against +the wall, laughing. + +“Why, it’s never!--No! it can’t never be--_Hannah Stubbs!_” cried Mrs. +Battleby, too much astounded to be angry at being taken in. + +“Yes! it is,” replied Hannah, still laughing, “but I ain’t Hannah +Stubbs no longer, Mrs. Battleby! I’m a married lady now, and able to +hold my own with anybody. But ain’t you a’going to arsk me to take a +chair? Ain’t the parlours vacant? Can’t we go in there?” + +“The parlours!” repeated the landlady, with a sneer. “Well! I wonder +what we’re coming to, next! I should ’ave thought as the kitchen was +good enough for you, Hannah Stubbs, though you _be_ married!” + +“Well! then, let me tell you, Mrs. Battleby as it ain’t! And I’ll +thank you not to call me out of my name. I’m married to a nobleman, +and I’ll stick up for my rights. ‘My lady’ is the proper way for you +to address me, Mrs. Battleby! I’m a Markiness!” + +“A _what!_” exclaimed Mrs. Battleby, as she pushed her visitor into +the back parlour, which lacked an inmate. “Are you mocking me, Hannah, +or ’ave you gone clean off your chump? A markiness! You must be daft! +They belongs to the highest of the haristocracy. What ’ave you been +a’doing of, since you left this ’ouse?” + +As she lighted the gas, and was enabled to have a good look at her +late slavey, the landlady perceived there was a great difference in +her appearance. Hannah wore the famous apple-green merino, with a silk +mantle over it--a small black bonnet, crowned with scarlet poppies, +and a pair of brown silk gloves. Altogether, though she did not look +like a marchioness, she had the appearance of a very respectable +servant. + +“And now do tell me the rights of all this, for you’ve took my breath +away,” said Mrs. Battleby. “What’s become of the poor Professor, and +his friend the Doctor, and ’ave you left them for good, and where are +you living now?” + +She pushed Hannah into a chair and took one opposite herself, so eager +was she to learn how this wonderful transformation scene had come +about. + +The Marchesa di Sorrento was wonderfully self-possessed. She drew off +her silk gloves and folded them neatly on her lap--placed her umbrella +in a safe position--and settled herself down for a good talk. + +“I have not left the Sig-nor at all, Mrs. Battleby,” she commenced; +“we’ve been married for a long time now, and our ’ouse is at +’Ampstead.” + +“The Sig-nor has _married_ you!” exclaimed the landlady, gasping in +her surprise. “Why! I allays thought as ’e was a real gentleman! +Actually _married_ you! Well! wonders never cease!” + +“A real gentleman,” cried Hannah, sharply, “I should think he was--a +better gentleman than you’ll ever ’ave in your attics agen, Mrs. +Battleby. He’s more than a gentleman, a good deal! He’s a real +Markiss! What do you think of that! The Markiss dee Sorrento! And I’m +a Markiness! The Markiness dee Sorrento! And that’s why you’ll ’ave to +call me ‘my lady’ if ever you speaks to me agen, Mrs. Battleby.” + +“I don’t believe as I could ever find it on my tongue to do it, +Hannah--not if you was to give me a ’undred pounds,” said the +landlady, as she sank back in her chair with surprise. + +“Are you satisfied I speak the truth,” asked Hannah, presently, “or +must I bring the Markiss here to tell you so, himself? He was always a +Markiss, of course, but he didn’t choose to let on to you about it. +But as soon as we was married, he told me the truth! It was a fine +surprise for me, as you may be sure, but I’m quite accustomed to it +now.” + +“And he actually married you--that quiet old gentleman! Well! if you’d +told me marriage was in his line, I’d ’ave said you was quite mistook. +And the Doctor--what did ’e say to it, eh, Hannah?--I mean--my lady!” + +“You don’t go to suppose as we asked the Doctor’s leave, or anybody +else’s?” replied the Markiness, with a fine scorn; “the Markiss was +old enough to know his own mind, I s’pose! And the Doctor ain’t a +doctor any longer either! He’s a Baron--the Baron von Steinberg, and +’as come into a big fortune of thousands and thousands of pounds a +year.” + +“O! you don’t go to tell me as the Doctor’s a haristocrat, too?” cried +Mrs. Battleby, who felt as if all her old acquaintances had suddenly +drifted from her into realms above. “’E who was such a nice-speaking +young gentleman! A Baron! Well! I never! And money into the bargain! +No wonder as they both left the hattics!” + +“The Baron ’as a lovely ’ouse in Portland Place,” continued Hannah, +“the most beautiful ’ouse as you ever see--all statues and pictures +and flowering plants. You can’t ’ear your feet in ’is carpets, and ’e +keeps ten or twelve servants. He’s rolling in riches, is the Baron.” + +“My!” gasped Mrs. Battleby, too exhausted by astonishment to be able +to say any more. + +“And you, my dear,” she resumed, after a pause, “’ow do you git on +with the cooking and that? The Sig-nor, ’e wasn’t very particular, but +if I remembers rightly, you didn’t know nothink of cooking, or of much +else when you fust come to me--did you?” + +“No! nor now either,” responded Hannah, with her grandest air, “I ’ave +no call to do anything of the sort. My servant does all that for me!” + +“_Your servant!_ Lor! and you keep a servant!” echoed the landlady. “I +never! But in coorse the Sig-nor, being a Markiss, would now, wouldn’t +’e? And ’ave you told all this to your pore mother and father, who +’ave been sadly about you, ever since you runned away from me!” + +“No! Mrs. Battleby, and don’t mean to, neither! You don’t suppose as +the Markiss would let such people as my mother and father come about +the ’ouse! It would bemean his rank! They carst me off and they must +keep to theirselves--as well as that ill-mannered young man Joseph +Brushwood! I wouldn’t stop to speak to ’em, not if I met ’em in the +road.” + +“Well! Hannah, you ’ave grown ’igh,” replied the other, “but I ’opes +as you’ve given up all them sperrits and devils and things as beset +you ’ere. The Markiss won’t allow them about ’im, I expect!” + +“You only says that because you’re so ignorant, Mrs. Battleby,” said +the Markiness, tossing her head; “those who know about the matter says +they’re Science, and all the aristocracy are running after them like +mad! They call them ‘angels’ not ‘devils’, and they _do_ say,” +continued the girl, lowering her voice, and bending towards the +landlady, “that Royalty’s crazy about it, too, and that if I chose to +go to the Palace and show ’em what I can do, that I should be made a +duchess in my own right!” + +“O! Hannah--my lady--don’t you go for to do it!” cried Mrs. Battleby, +“for what’s the good of being a duchess, if the Devil ’as got hold of +you! Better remain as you are--a plain markiness! O! I ’ad ’oped as +you’d given it all up and lived quiet and sober, like a married woman +should!” + +“O! that would never do!” replied Hannah, “Why! do you know, Mrs. +Battleby, as it’s the best thing I’ve got! The Baron says I’m the +grandest medium in the land, and there ain’t another as can make the +sperrits walk out so soon, and so nateral like! His friends is all mad +to meet me, and I’m to go to ’is ’ouse next week, and sit for the +Russian Ambassador, and the Duke of Standingstone, and two foreign +Princes! Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been so quick to take the Markiss, +for I should ’ave ’ad no end of chances, if I ’adn’t been a married +lady!” + +“Ah! well! I ’opes it will all end satisfactory,” sighed Mrs. +Battleby, “but it don’t seem right to me! Sperrits is sperrits all the +world over, which we’re told not to meddle with in holy Scriptur, and +I should never be surprised to ’ear as they’d taken you away with +’orns and a tail and a smell of brimstone!” + +“I ain’t afeared of that!” said Hannah, “the sperrits are more afraid +of me than I am of them!” + +“Of _you_--who used to shriek if you saw ’em!” replied her companion, +incredulously. + +“I know! but they says as use is second natur. Anyways, I don’t mind +’em one pin now! The Doctor says they ’ave seen the most wonderfullest +things through me--his dead patients and others--and that if anythink +’appened to the Markiss, my mediumship would be worth its weight in +gold. So I’m not going to throw it away--you bet!” + +“O! well! and I’m not the one to blame yer. We must all look arter +ourselves in this world. But ’ow improved you are in your speaking, my +dear! ’Ave you been to school since the Sig-nor married you?” + +“Am I improved?” demanded Hannah, with a look of surprise; “I don’t +see any difference myself! P’r’aps it’s talking so much with my +’usband--not that the Markiss is a great talker, but still I don’t +hear anyone else.” + +“You are altered in many ways,” continued the landlady, thoughtfully, +“you’ve lost the scared look you used to ’ave on your face, and the +dull look too, I may say, for we never considered you over-bright, you +know, Hannah! But now--I ain’t good at describing--but you seem to me +to have wakened up, as if you’d seen a lot of the world and its ways. +And it’s improved you, Hannah--wonderful!” + +“I’m glad of that,” replied the markiness, “for now that I am a lady, +I has to speak like one. Well! I’ll say good-night to you now, Mrs. +Battleby, for I must be going ’ome! But I thought, as you’d known the +Markiss for so long, you’d like to hear the news, and that we’re all +so ’appy together!” + +Hannah had risen to go, but Mrs. Battleby detained her for a moment. + +“You ’aven’t told me nothing of the Sig-nor’s ’ealth,” she said; “’as +’e got rid of them dreadful fainty attacks as used to take ’im +sometimes, when ’e lived with me?” + +“No! not quite! He had one yesterday. The Baron says it’s ’is ’eart, +and that ’e’s ’ad it a long time. But all we ’ave to do is to be +careful, and ’e’ll last as long as any.” + +“And may I come up and see you some day, Hannah--my lady?” inquired +the landlady. “I should like to ’ave a look at the Sig-nor, I must +say.” + +The Markiness dee Sorrento hesitated. + +“I s’pose I must say ‘yes’, Mrs. Battleby, because of old times, but +you must please not to call me ‘Hannah’ before my servant, or she may +think it disrespectful. I ’ope you understand the motive!” + +“O! yes, my lady--certainly, my lady!” replied Mrs. Battleby, as she +curtsied the newly-made peeress out at the hall door, and retreated to +the kitchen again, to try and solve the marvellous riddle which had +been presented to her. + +Meanwhile the marchioness took an omnibus back to Hampstead, where she +found Karl von Steinberg, who had been home about a week, in close +conversation with her husband. + +“I am trying to combat Ricardo’s objection to your giving my friends a +séance next week, Hannah!” he said, as she appeared, “but he is very +obstinate! He seems to imagine that if your powers are made public, +they will deteriorate in some way. I--on the contrary--think they will +improve with practice, always provided that we see you are not +overtaxed. And _I_ shall be present to prevent that! I have not given +up being a doctor, at all events for the benefit of my friends, though +I have become a Baron!” + +“Of course not!” replied Hannah, “and I’ve told the Markiss so a +hundred times! Haven’t the sperrits said the same thing? They’re more +likely to desert me, if I disobey their orders. Don’t waste no more +time over the Markiss, Baron! I’m going to give your friends that +séance next week, and as many more as you choose--so there’s an end +of the matter!” + +“But we must follow your husband’s wishes in this respect, Hannah,” +said Von Steinberg. “I should not enjoy the séance, for one, if he +disapproved of your giving it! He will never shut me out from your +home sittings, I am sure, and if he is determined, my friends must go +without it, or get another medium to sit for them!” + +“And where will they find another like me?” replied Hannah, with that +strange look in her eyes--half sensual and half cunning--which he had +noticed before his departure for Germany. “You know yourself there is +not such another in the country! No! I shall sit at your house next +week, whatever any one says. Besides, if I do not, Leonora will not +come again, and how will you like that, Markiss?” + +“Did she tell you so?” cried Ricardo, in alarm. + +“Indeed, she did! She says my gift was given me for the good of +humanity and not merely to gratify your selfish wish to see her +again.” + +“O! I will not--I will not--be selfish then,” exclaimed the poor +Professor. “Von Steinberg, she is right! This wonderful gift was never +intended to be hidden under a bushel! I give my consent to her using +it for the benefit of mankind. But--if you will forgive me--I will +remain at home! I could not bear to see my Leonora disporting her +lovely form for strangers to gaze at. No! let Hannah wait upon your +friends, and I will stay here until my Angel deigns to come to me +again.” + +“But why should Leonora appear at all in my house, Ricardo?” +remonstrated his friend, “if you do not care to attend the séance, +you can at least bring your wife to my house and take her home.” + +“No! no! I would rather that she went alone!” persisted the Professor. + +“O! let him be!” cried Hannah, impatiently, “if the markiss has got a +crotchet in his head, it’ll take more than you and me to dig it out +again. It’ll be his own loss--not ours!” + +At this Ricardo rose, and, without another word, walked up stairs to +his own room. + +“You are wrong, Hannah,” remarked Von Steinberg, “you have no right to +speak before your husband like that! You should be doubly forbearing +towards him just now, for I don’t think he is well.” + +“What’s the matter with him?” asked the girl. + +“His heart is weaker than usual, and he has other disorders which +complicate it. I think your determination to assume his title has +worried him more than you imagine. It rouses unpleasant memories in +him, and keeps the Past always before his eyes. Besides, it is not +yours to use! It was confiscated years ago by the Italian Government, +and does not belong to Ricardo himself any longer!” + +“O! that’s rubbish!” cried Hannah, “it wasn’t lawful of them to take +it away, and so it’s his still! Besides, what ’arm does it do to +anybody, my calling myself a markiness? It’s little enough I got by +marrying ’im, I’m sure! He needn’t grudge me that!” + +“You got an honest, brave, honourable gentleman, Hannah, which is a +thing to be proud of!” + +“But it won’t do me ’alf the good that being called ‘my lady’ will, +all the same,” replied Hannah, with one of her cunning looks. “I mean +to make my way in the world, Baron, for he won’t leave me much butter +for my bread, and it’s the only crutch I’ve got to walk with! It’ll go +down better than money with ’alf the fools I meet.” + +“I think you’re a very clever woman,” said Von Steinberg, regarding +her with admiration. “I had no idea when I first saw you, that you had +such a quick wit and brain. And you are improving fast in your manner +of talking! If it were not for dropping an _h_ now and then, when you +get excited, you might really hold your own with many a lady in the +land!” + +“I mean to, too, you bet!” said Hannah. “I ain’t--I mean, I +haven’t--married an old man for nothing! I’ve got something to set +against his age, eh, Doctor? And if you’ll stand my friend, and +introduce me to some of the big people at your séances, you see if my +‘wonderful gift’ (as you call it) won’t land me some day in unexpected +places.” + +“By Jove! I believe you’re sharp enough for anything,” exclaimed Von +Steinberg, “and if I can help you, I will! But it must be with +Ricardo’s consent.” + +“Didn’t you hear him give it? He’d sell me to the Devil, if it would +bring his Leonora to him! He doesn’t care a hang about me! He only +cares for her!” + +“You mustn’t say that!” replied Von Steinberg, though he believed it +to be true. + +“And I’ll tell you a secret, Doctor! I don’t believe that Leonora will +come to him much longer, either! She’s pretty well sick of being +prayed and slobbered over, and called an angel! She wasn’t an +angel--not by no manner of means--and it wearies her! She liked life, +did Leonora--domestic happiness wasn’t in her line at all.” + +“I believe you are correct there,” replied the Doctor. + +“And can’t you see how sitting by himself, night after night, is +drawing all the strength out of the Markiss. It doesn’t signify about +_my_ strength--he has never thought about that--so long as he can see +Leonora--but it’ll chaw him up before long, if he don’t look out. +It’ll be for his good to take me away a bit--mark my words!” + +“By Jove! you’re right again,” replied her companion, “and it is +wonderful I did not perceive the danger to him before! You’ve done +Ricardo a great benefit by your astuteness, my dear, and I shall not +fail to tell him so! But you are sure you have not hurt yourself! You +do not feel at all weak, or ill--not as if a tonic, or stimulant of +any kind, would do you good?” + +“O! no! Doctor, I’m all right, thank you,” said Hannah, smiling at the +anxiety depicted in his face; “only you get me to your fine house and +it’ll do me all the good in the world!” + +“I am delighted to think that you are coming,” said Von Steinberg, +“and, Hannah, at this or any time, remember that anything I may have, +or can procure, is at your service! I can never sufficiently thank you +for the grand insight you have given me, through your mediumship, to +the truth of Immortality, and anything I could do for you in return I +should esteem a great favour! + +“And now one word of advice, my dear girl, which I know you are too +sensible to resent. Try to correct the few errors of grammar which you +still retain, and the sooner will you gain admittance into the houses +you aspire to be invited to, on an equal footing with their owners.” + +Hannah stood, for a moment, as if dumbfoundered. + +“I don’t get on as fast as I should, do I?” she said at length. “It +seems queer, but there’s something in my tongue as won’t sound some +words. I s’pose it’s all habit, and I haven’t much opportunity for +improving myself now!” + +“How’s that?” + +“Why, the markiss has gone dumb! ’E never opens ’is mouth ’ardly from +morning till night! ’Ow is a girl to learn anything from him? I can +read a little, you know, Doctor, but not enough to improve myself, and +I carn’t go back to school, now I’m a markiness!” + +“No! you’re too old for that! Well! we must see what we can do +together, Hannah, you and I! Your husband is out almost all day, so I +could come over here sometimes, and give you a lesson in conversation, +that is, if you really wish to learn.” + +“I’d like to learn Italian with you,” said Hannah, softly. + +Von Steinberg stared. + +“Italian, my dear! What are you talking of? I think we had better get +on with a little English first! When shall it be? Shall I come up +to-morrow morning and begin our studies?” + +Hannah approached him, and laid her hand gently on his arm. + +“I shall like to learn with you!” she said, softly, in the same voice +she had used a moment before. “You are good. I feel it! I shall love +you for your kindness to me.” + +Karl von Steinberg started away from her, as if he had been stung. + +What was the expression in her face, which had so improved its +expression? Rough Hannah Stubbs seemed to have gone away, and a +gentle-featured, alluring woman to have stepped into her place. Her +eyes, always beautiful, glowed with gratitude and sensibility--her +touch was tender--her smile had become plaintive and appealing. + +The doctor shook off her grasp rather rudely than otherwise, and, +rising, declared it was time he returned home, and left the cottage +without another word. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. + +Karl von Steinberg was naturally a great lover of Art and Beauty, +but hard work and want of means, had prevented him hitherto from +indulging his taste for either. Now, however, that he had money at his +command, he took the keenest pleasure in surrounding himself with +everything that struck his fancy, or pleased his eye. + +His house in Portland Place was furnished with æsthetic taste and +delicacy. The wide hall and staircase were laid with the softest +carpets, and decorated with towering palms and hothouse flowers. The +salons were hung with rich tapestries, and ornamented with _objets +d’art_, whilst the pictures, transported from the Berlin gallery, +formed an uncommon attraction in a private house. + +The Baron did not indulge in these expensive luxuries for his own +gratification only. He had a liberal and expansive heart, and loved to +gather round him as many of his countrymen as he knew in London, as +well as all those who had been kind to him in his poorer days. + +His sudden accession to Fortune soon drew a crowd of acquaintances to +share in his good things, whilst his rank attracted men of good birth +and position amongst them. + +Over his dinner-table, he had discoursed to scientists and others, of +the marvellous powers of Ricardo’s wife, and many had eagerly desired +to witness them. This was the reason that he had obtained his old +friend’s permission to ask Hannah to his house, to meet some people +who were interested in the matter with himself. + +On the evening in question, he entertained at dinner the Persian +Ambassador, one of the Gentlemen at Arms from the Royal Household, a +celebrated brain doctor, who had long made abnormal cases his study, +and three or four medical men with their wives, who had all promised +to submit to such conditions as he should impose upon them. + +In an ante-chamber to the drawing-room, he had had a cabinet prepared +for Hannah’s use. A dark velvet curtain drawn across one corner of the +apartment, and covered in at the top, proved all that could be desired +for the occasion, whilst a moderator lamp, shaded by red silk, cast a +subdued light upon the proceedings. + +He had not invited Hannah to be present at the dinner; firstly, +because he did not like to ask her to leave her husband for too long a +time, and secondly, because he thought the presence of his company +might intimidate her and make her feel uncomfortable, and perhaps have +a bad effect upon the subsequent sitting. He had prepared his guests +for her advent, speaking of her as a very quiet body, unaccustomed to +society--the wife of an old friend of his, who did not care about her +sitting for anybody but himself, but had kindly given permission for +her to come there that evening. + +He did not exactly ask their indulgence for the roughness of the +medium, but he led them to expect a person much their inferior in +position--one to whom they might be kind and condescending, but with +whom they need not think to associate. She was “the medium”--nothing +more. + +The men were prepared to stare at her with curiosity, and the women to +patronise her, as they might a housemaid who had been endowed with a +miraculous voice, or anything else which they did not possess +themselves. + +No one seemed disposed to sit long at dinner that evening, and they +had all assembled in the drawing-room, before Hannah was announced. At +last there sounded a cabman’s knock and ring at the hall door. + +“There is my medium!” exclaimed Von Steinberg, with alacrity, as he +rose and advanced to meet her. The guests all looked up curiously, +expecting to see a dowdy, scared-looking person enter the room, with +an air of fright at finding herself in the presence of so august a +company. + +What was their surprise, as their host reached the door, to see it +thrown open by the footman, and admit a woman, stout, fleshy, and +dressed in rather an incongruous manner for the occasion, but to all +intents and purposes as self-possessed as any one amongst them. + +Karl von Steinberg was so astonished, that it was with difficulty he +could restrain himself from giving open vent to his surprise. + +On the threshold stood Hannah--arrayed as he had never seen her +before--as he had not believed it possible she would ever think of +arraying herself! Her abundant hair, which she had gone to a coiffeur +to have dressed, was piled upon the top of her head, thus adding +height to her stature--her coarse complexion had received a touch of +powder, which softened its natural bloom. On her back she wore a white +dress, hanging in straight folds from her shoulders to her feet, and +thus leaving her waist and general contour undefined, whilst above it +rose her well-covered, pinky neck and arms--looking very youthful and +healthy, if somewhat countrified. + +Had Hannah added jewellry to this new attire, she would have spoilt it +and herself. But luckily for her appearance, she had none to wear--the +white, straight, unadorned dress and her abundant hair were positively +her only ornaments, and strange to say, notwithstanding her birth and +antecedents, she looked exceedingly well in them. + +Her manners, also, seemed improved to match her dress. Instead of +grinning from ear to ear, as was her wont when pleased, she stood like +a young Juno on the threshold, as if she knew she was there to confer +a favour, not to receive one. She almost took Von Steinberg’s breath +away, but he managed to collect himself and murmur, + +“My dear Hannah!----” + +“The Marchesa di Sorrento, if you please!” she replied, and taking her +cue, he turned, and presenting her to his guests, repeated, + +“Allow me to introduce to you, the Marchesa di Sorrento, who has been +charming enough to come here for our amusement this evening. +Marchesa!” he added, turning to Hannah, “can I offer you nothing in +the shape of refreshment, before you undertake your arduous duties on +our behalf?” + +“Nothing--nothing!” replied Hannah, as she sank into the seat he +offered her. + +“And how is the Marchese?” demanded Von Steinberg, willing to humour +her, whilst his eyes were roving all the while over her pink neck and +rounded arms. “Is he feeling pretty well? I was so sorry he would not +join us to-night!” + +“It is better so! He is not very well,” replied the Marchesa, in a +low, modulated voice. + +The doctors’ wives, who had come to the gathering in high dresses, and +lace caps, were beginning to wonder by this time, if they had done +wrong and whether the Marchesa would consider they had committed a +breach of etiquette. + +They sidled up to the Baron and whispered him to present them more +particularly to his friend, and then they tried to “pump” Hannah as to +her spiritualistic powers and how she developed them, but the Marchesa +was unusually silent. Von Steinberg, who had rather dreaded her +becoming communicative, could not sufficiently admire her reticence; +she was a deucedly sight cleverer than he had ever given her credit +for, he said to himself--and in order that the favourable impression +she had evidently made, might be kept up, he was not long in leading +the way to the séance room. + +Here, the guests having been arranged on seats at one end of the +apartment, and cautioned not to stir on penalty of being sent away, +Hannah was escorted to the cabinet by Karl, who could not help +whispering as he affected to be arranging her comfortably in her +chair, + +“You are marvellous--you have astonished me--I never knew what a +handsome woman you were, before!” + +To which compliments she answered by half closing her eyes, as she +ejaculated, + +“You may be very clever, my friend, but you do not know everything +that there is in this world yet,” and immediately shutting her lids, +she fell into a profound sleep. + +“How unlike Hannah!” thought the Baron, as he mingled once more with +his company--“not even like her voice. The accent too--I could have +sworn that it was foreign--it is too marvellous--it is past finding +out!” + +His friends were full of curiosity. + +“What a fine woman!” + +“We never expected anything of this sort!” + +“Has she gone to sleep already?” + +“How soon will they appear?” + +“What a remarkable power to possess!” + +These were among the remarks that poured in upon Von Steinberg, almost +in a breath, from his various friends. + +“Ladies! Ladies! I can tell you nothing more than I hope you will see +for yourselves before long! Have patience, and I think you will be +rewarded! Yes! the Marchesa is a very fine young woman, Derrick, as +you say. Her age?--between eighteen and nineteen! Where was she +educated? I really cannot say. Somewhere in the country, I believe! +She is quite new to London, and has been kept in such close attendance +on her husband, since her marriage, that she has had no time, nor +opportunity, to go into Society. + +“But stay--hush!--I think I saw the curtain move. Yes! I am right! +There is her principal control, who calls herself, ‘Leonora!’ Mrs. +Atkinson, cannot you see the form from where you sit? Draw your chair +nearer mine! That is better! You can see the whole figure now!” + +“But,” argued the lady, with her glass raised to her eye, “isn’t that +the Marchesa? Surely, she is very like! Should you have known them +apart, Mrs. Derrick?” + +“Why! where are your eyes?” demanded her husband; “the Marchesa struck +me as a stoutly built young lady, with light brown hair! This figure +is extremely slim--I should say, thin--and her hair is jet black! I +cannot discern any resemblance between the two!” + +“O! she is certainly thinner,” acquiesced the lady, “and the hair is +darker--I admit that--yet the expression, and something about the +features, strikes me as resembling the medium. I wonder what sort of +feet she has!” + +At this hint, Leonora thrust her little bare foot beyond the curtain, +for the satisfaction of the sitters. It was a lovely foot--white as +marble, slim and smooth, and excited the universal admiration of all +the gentlemen present. + +“There can be no mistake about _that_, I think!” exclaimed the Baron +eagerly. + +“But we did not see the Marchesa’s feet!” grumbled the incredulous +lady. + +“But surely you could judge by her build, that her feet would not be +as small as those!” argued Von Steinberg, who began to wish, as so +many have done before him, that he had never invited his friends to a +séance. + +“My dear! you are making a fool of yourself!” whispered Mr. Atkinson +to his wife, “and if you can’t say anything more sensible, I’ll be +obliged by your holding your tongue altogether!” + +After this, the lady’s remarks were made in the strictest confidence +in her neighbour’s ear, and Leonora showed her feet and her hands, and +smiled her saucy smiles for the edification of the male portion of the +assembly, who were all ready to swear to her beauty and distinct +personality from that of the medium. Several other forms made their +appearance--one being that of an old man, between whom and the +Marchesa, even Mrs. Atkinson could not trace any resemblance, and the +séance closed with the apparition of a little child--a boy of four +years old, who ran across the room towards Dr. Derrick, and was fully +recognised by his wife and himself, as their little Lawrence, a child +whom they had lost some twenty years before. + +After this apparition, which fully proved the claims of the Marchesa +di Sorrento to be one of the most marvellous mediums in the world, the +meeting broke up and the sitters dispersed into the adjoining room, +Karl von Steinberg alone remaining behind for a few minutes, to see +the medium recover from her trance. + +As soon as he found himself alone with her, he gently raised one end +of the curtain. There lay Hannah in her easy chair--one pinky arm +thrown across the velvet elbow, the other beneath her head. She was +breathing heavily still and her mouth was slightly open, showing the +large, firm, white teeth within. + +It had never struck Von Steinberg that she was even good-looking +before, but now she looked positively handsome--an embodiment of +youth, health, and vigour--more admirable in a doctor’s eyes, than all +the anæmic, bloodless, white flesh in the world. + +He regarded her quietly for a moment--then yielding to an +unaccountable impulse, he stooped and kissed her rounded arm. Hannah +woke and caught him--she did not speak, but lay there, with her eyes +open, gazing at him--with a languid smile upon her lips. + +“Come! come! you are yourself again now!” cried Von Steinberg, +quickly, “let us go into the next room! We have had a wonderful +séance, and my friends are waiting to congratulate and thank you!” + +He dragged her to her feet as he spoke, and led her into the +drawing-room. + +Here, the scientific men present crowded round her, eager to ascertain +if her condition were normal, or if they could trace any lingering +remains of the super-human faculty she possessed. + +The women looked at her furtively and from a little distance. They +could not understand what they had seen--they could not believe it +possible, and were more ready to ascribe uncommon cleverness and +cunning to the Marchesa, than uncommon powers. + +They gazed at her, and whispered to each other, and were generally +disposed to consider that the gentlemen were making too much fuss over +the matter, and that there was an excellent solution of it, if it +could only be found. + +Meanwhile their husbands were pressing Hannah to fix an evening to +give a sitting at their own homes, and promising her all kinds of +preparations in honour of her compliance with their entreaties. + +The Baron stood by listening, and a strange feeling of jealousy came +over him, that his guests should attempt to monopolise the powers +which he had had so much difficulty in securing for himself. + +He was determined that Hannah should go to none of their houses. + +“Excuse me, gentlemen!” he said, laying his hand on her arm; “but you +must allow me to have a voice in this matter! I hold the Marchesa in +trust for her husband. It was after much persuasion that he permitted +her to attend here this evening for the purpose of pleasing my guests, +but I am sure he would never hear of her visiting strangers on the +same terms. You must forgive me for saying that she can accept no +invitations without the Marchese’s leave!” + +Hannah did not resent his interference, nor withdraw her arm from his +grasp--but only murmured, “That is so!” + +“I had hoped,” said Dr. Derrick, with some degree of offence, “that +the Marchesa would have regarded us as friends, after the delightful +evening we have spent in her company.” + +“But not to the extent of giving you sittings for the investigation of +your family,” replied Von Steinberg; “the Marchesa is not strong, +although she appears so, and as her medical adviser, I am obliged to +limit the amount of her séances. Good-night, Doctor! some other time +perhaps I may be able to ask you to repeat the experiments of +to-night.” + +The visitors departed, and the butler had announced that the +Marchesa’s cab was at the door, when Von Steinberg told him to let it +wait. + +“You must come in here, Hannah, and have a glass of wine or some +refreshment after your labours,” he said, leading the way into his +dining-room. “I hope you were not vexed at my interference just now, +but these people would drain you dry, if you allowed them--not caring +one whit, if you sank from fatigue and exhaustion, so long as they +gratified their own curiosity concerning you. We must take better care +of you than that.” + +He poured out a glass of wine, and whilst she was drinking it, he put +his finger gently on the folds of her white dress and asked, + +“What made you put on this pretty frock to-night, Hannah? I did not +know that you possessed such a one! I hardly recognised you at +first--you looked so nice! What a difference dress makes. Forgive me +for saying, that I really did not know before this evening, that you +were a handsome woman!” + +“Am I?” said Hannah, with the old, broad grin. “No one ever told me so +afore! I thought as I was coming amongst grand folks, I ought to ’ave +a nice frock, so I went to Madame Cusada and she made me this. I did +feel so queer coming out to see you, as if I’d got next to nothing +on.” + +“Never mind! It’s quite the fashion, you know, and you will soon get +accustomed to it! You have a lovely neck and shoulders, Hannah! Who +would think to see your hands, that they were so pink and soft! You +must try and get your hands to look like them. They will soon, now +that you do no rough work. I should like you to look nice always.” + +“Should you?” said Hannah. “I don’t think the Markiss cares ’ow I +look! I ’ad to take the money out of ’is trouser pocket to buy this. I +arsked ’im for some, but ’e’s so close, ’e wouldn’t give me any, so I +just helped myself!” + +“O! Hannah! you mustn’t do that again. It’s stealing! And how vexed +Ricardo would be, if he discovered the theft! Promise me, that you +will never take his money again, without his leave.” + +“O! that’s all very well, but ’ow am I to get things else?” grumbled +Hannah. “What’s the good of being a Markiness, if I’m to go about in +the same old clothes day after day?” + +“Well! come to me when you want money! Treat me like a brother, and +tell me all your troubles! I have more than I want--a great deal +more--and will gladly supply anything that your husband is unable to +afford you. For, you must remember, Hannah, he is very poor.” + +“Beastly poor!” echoed Hannah. “What a different life _your_ wife will +lead! She’ll ’ave everything as ’er ’eart can wish for! Well! some +people is borned lucky!” + +“But are not much the happier, all the same,” replied Von Steinberg, +“if ever I should have a wife, as you suggest, she may envy you your +robust health, and your youth, and your mystical powers, Hannah.” + +“Lor! they ain’t much good to me,” said the girl, “but if you likes +’em, you’re welcome to ’em, that’s all!” + +The Baron took out his purse. + +“That is very good of you to say, and if you will not feel offended, I +should like to make you a little present in return for your kindness +to me. You needn’t tell Ricardo, you know! Let it be a secret between +you and me, and when you buy a pretty new frock or a hat with it, +think it is a present from your old friend Karl von Steinberg.” + +He laid a note for twenty pounds upon her lap as he spoke, and as +Hannah’s eyes fell upon it, the expression of her face changed. She +took the note in her hands--smoothed it out lovingly--and turned eyes +up to his, that were full of something more than gratitude--something, +that made the young man stoop down and kiss her; then draw back, as if +he had been shot. + +“That was wrong of me, Hannah,” he said, “I should not have done it! +Will you forgive me? Ricardo would be awfully angry if he heard of it! +He would say I was a traitor!” + +“He won’t hear of it,” replied Hannah quietly, as she gazed at the +bank note. + +“Well! put that away safely, and my man shall summon the cab for you, +and to-morrow I am to come and give you a lesson in reading and +conversation, is that not so? I very much want to cure you of some of +your funny little ways, Hannah, and it is so strange to me, that +sometimes you appear to have quite cured them for yourself, and then +you break out again, as bad as ever. Here is the cab! and here is your +wrap. Well! Good-bye till to-morrow, and mind you remember me to +Ricardo.” + +He watched her drive away in the direction of her home, and walked +back into his own, dissatisfied with himself, and all the world. + +What on earth, he thought, had made him give way to that impulse to +kiss his friend’s wife twice in one evening? He did not admire her! +How could he admire a coarse, under-bred woman, with huge hands and +feet, and an accent that set his teeth on edge? + +And yet there had been something about her that evening, that had +attracted him more powerfully than he had considered her capable of +attracting anybody--than he had considered himself capable of being +attracted. It was not entirely her appearance, though she had looked +better than he had ever seen her look before--it was a kind of +animalism and magnetism, combined, which had made his senses reel, and +caused him to forget her position and his faith to his old friend, +Ricardo. + +Karl von Steinberg hated himself for what had occurred, and yet he +felt that, should the time come over again, he should behave in +exactly the same manner. She was a wonderful combination, he thought, +of sorcery and coquetry, and gross, inanimate earth! He knew that the +Professor did not love Hannah as a man should love his wife--he had +told him so direct, yet should he find out that she was tampered with +by his friend, he might be provoked into jealousy and view the matter +in a very disagreeable light. So that--Von Steinberg decided--for the +future, Hannah should be sacred to him! + +At the same time, he could not endure the idea that she should do for +his acquaintances what she had done for him--go to their houses and +make herself as common as a professional medium! He was resolved that, +at all costs, he would put a stop to that, even if he were compelled +to side with Ricardo, and resolve she should never sit, except at +home. + +He tried to disgust himself with her, but he could not! He recalled +all the deficiencies of her womanhood--told himself that she was +coarse, ignorant, and cunning--that she was a woman to be ashamed, not +proud, of--and yet he felt drawn back and back to thoughts of her, as +though she had been the Goddess of Love herself! + +He had said at first, that he would not visit the cottage on the +following day, but with the morning’s light, his resolution had faded, +and as soon as he had bathed and breakfasted, he called a cab and +drove out to Hampstead. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. + +As he alighted, he perceived Ricardo at a little distance, coming +towards him. The man’s aspect was most lugubrious. His head was sunk +upon his breast. His eyes were cast upon the ground--his hands hung +listlessly by his side. He came close to Von Steinberg without seeing +him, and when he did see him, he started, as if he were the last +person he had dreamt of encountering. + +“Good Heavens! Von Steinberg!” he exclaimed; “where have you sprung +from? Hannah told me but just now that you were leaving Town for the +day.” + +Karl von Steinberg stopped one moment to consider why Hannah should +have taken the trouble to tell a falsehood, but recovering himself +replied, + +“Ah! I was thinking of doing so, but changed my mind! She has +forgotten that I also said, that if circumstances permitted of my +remaining in London, I should run over to give her a little lesson in +polite conversation. Your wife is eminently teachable, Ricardo! It is +a real pleasure to me to help her a little on her way.” + +“For my part, I think you had better let her alone,” returned the +Professor, gruffly, “I don’t see that polite education improves her.” + +“My dear Ricardo, what is the matter? Have I offended you in any way? +Pray tell me at once, if it is so!” + +“Since you demand it, I will. I must beg that you will not ask Hannah +to your house again, for whatever purpose. It does her no good, but +only inflates her foolish head with an idea of importance, which she +does not possess, and introduces her to society in which she can never +hope to mix. + +“Besides, Von Steinberg, my means will not admit of buying her +dresses, and paying for her cabs--and when I mention the subject, +however gently, she insults me to my face. No! no! it was with much +reluctance that I gave my permission for her to attend your party last +night, but it must be for the last time--the very last time!” + +“I am sorry to hear you say that,” replied Von Steinberg, gravely, +“and still more that Hannah should appear ungrateful for your +indulgence.” + +“But it is ridiculous--absurd--” exclaimed Ricardo, passionately, +“that she should pass the evening with such people as you gather round +you. Remember what she was--a common scullery maid! She can only bring +disgrace on you and me and herself!” + +“But you are really mistaken,” said the Baron. “I acknowledge that +Hannah is uneducated, but she has much shrewdness, and knows when to +hold her tongue. She behaved admirably last evening, and my friends +were delighted with her--so much so, that had I not interfered, she +would have been overwhelmed with invitations to their houses.” + +“Only to save themselves money,” sneered Ricardo, “to procure her +services for nothing! She is a curiosity--a new toy--nothing more!” + +“I don’t think you quite do justice to Hannah,” observed Von +Steinberg, “she is more than a mere machine! She is naturally clever, +and can be very amusing and original. And she really looked superb! I +was quite astonished at her appearance!” + +“She doesn’t go out again. She has done it for the last time!” +persisted the Professor, doggedly. + +“My dear friend, there is something more the matter than you have told +me,” said the Baron, looking anxiously into Ricardo’s face; “you are +not yourself this morning! Is there anything else, beside your wife’s +very natural desire to see a little of the great world, that troubles +you?” + +“A great deal more,” exclaimed the Professor, “my life with her is +becoming a hell upon earth! I can stand it no longer! You know why I +married her, Karl! A coarse, uneducated, ignorant clod (as you +yourself called her)--I gave her my name and the sanctity of my home, +because she brought my Leonora to me. The great object of my life +seemed about to be realised--my yearnings set at rest! I made this +clod my wife--no! no! not my wife; I will never give her that sacred +title--but I made her mine by law, so that I might keep Leonora ever +by my side. And now--can you believe it?--she refuses any more to sit +for Leonora!” + +“O! you must be mistaken,” cried Von Steinberg, “Hannah may be tired +of sitting for a while--you forget the strain it is upon her +constitution--but she can never have intended you to understand that +she would never sit for you again.” + +“She said it, and she meant it. I could read it in her evil eyes,” +replied Ricardo, steadfastly. “She told me only this morning, when I +asked if we could have a séance together this evening, that she had +made up her mind to sit with me no more. She said worse than that,” +continued the Professor, in a breaking voice, “she declared that +Leonora--my Leonora--was sick and tired of me--that she said she had +come often enough--and expressed her determination not to appear +again, unless it were for the amusement of a crowd, such as you +gathered round you last night--a crowd who cares nothing for her +personally,--only to see the wonder of her materialisation. And +I--_I_--loved her so!” he gasped out, as he hid his face from +observation, and gave vent to a weak flood of tears. + +Karl von Steinberg was much shocked. He was really attached to the +Professor, and his conscience pricked him sorely, lest he should, by +indirect means, have had some share in bringing this trouble on his +head. He turned with him down a narrow lane, where they would be more +sheltered from observation, and waited silently until Ricardo’s +emotion had subsided. + +“How weak--how unmanly--you must think me!” he said at last, as he +lifted his worn face and smiled faintly at the Baron, “but I have been +much shaken lately! Hannah’s insolence to me--her over-bearing +manner--the way in which she uses Leonora’s sacred name in my +presence--has sapped my courage! + +“O! what an egregious fool I was, not to listen to your kindly advice, +when you warned me that to marry her would ruin me, soul and body! It +has been just that! Were it not for cowardice, I would put an end to +my life to-morrow! There is nothing left me worth living for!” + +“My dear friend! I cannot hear you talk like that! I must prescribe a +tonic to strengthen your nerves! You are run down, that is all. I am +afraid that you work too much and worry too much. Do you know, +Ricardo, that these constant séances are very debilitating for you, +and though she might have conveyed the intelligence in milder +language, Hannah is quite right in saying, that you must not indulge +your fancy so frequently. + +“I was speaking to her of the danger of it, the other day, and I +daresay she was only repeating my sentiments on the subject to you. If +she failed to express them rightly, you must remember that she has not +been reared in a polite school, and make allowances for her!” + +“It is not that!” replied the Professor, shaking his head; “Hannah is +not the same woman she used to be--she is altered in every way! Do you +remember the first time we saw her at Mrs. Battleby’s?--how shy and +awkward she was--how terrified at the effect of her own power--what an +unmeaning, but amiable smile, irradiated her dull vacuous countenance? + +“Where has all that gone? She is still somewhat clumsy and coarse, but +her temper is hasty and uncertain--she has developed the cunning of +the Devil--and she will have her own way in everything! It is of no +use my trying to guide, or advise her. She considers she is quite +capable of doing all that for herself.” + +“Well! you could hardly expect her to remain for ever, the dull clod +you rightly say she was, when you first fell in with her! She had had +no advantages then, nor opportunities of improving herself! Now--she +has lived for more than twelve months in your daily presence, and must +have been dull indeed, if she had not picked up something of your ways +and manners!” + +“But she need not _insult_ me!” cried Ricardo, vehemently, “I tell +you, Karl, there is hardly a day goes by, but she stings my pride with +some covert allusion to the Past! What does she know of it? Have you +ever spoken to her of Leonora?” + +“_Never!_ beyond her name!” replied the Baron, decidedly, “what you +related to me of her life and death, I have kept sacredly to myself!” + +“Yes! yes! I am sure of it! I should not have put the question to +you,” said Ricardo, feebly, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead; +“but, O! Von Steinberg, I am utterly miserable! I cannot bear my life +much longer! The sooner it is ended, the better!” + +Whatever thoughts had run riot through the Baron’s brain as he set out +for the Cottage, were all merged now in the desire to redress the +wrongs of his old friend, and bring Hannah to her senses. He parted +with Ricardo affectionately--told him that he should speak to his wife +on the subject--and extracted a promise from him, that he would come +the following day and dine quietly with him in Portland Place. And +then he hurried on to the Cottage, determined to give Hannah such a +roasting as she had never received from him in her life before. + +He found her dressed in a sort of loose tea-gown, seated in the +Professor’s arm-chair, and apparently engaged in reading one of her +husband’s scientific works. + +“Isn’t it strange,” she said, as soon as the usual morning salutations +had passed between them, “that I can’t make out half these words? I +seem to have forgotten how to read!” + +“I don’t suppose that you ever knew!” returned Von Steinberg, who was +disposed to be rather curt with her on the occasion. + +“Then you are mistaken,” she said, without offence, “for I could read +very well--but English is so hard,” she added, pathetically. + +The Baron stared at her. Hannah was in one of those queer moods which +were so unaccountable to him. + +“Never mind that now!” he said, “I want to talk to you upon another +matter. I met your husband as I was coming up just now, and had some +conversation with him. I think he is looking very ill, and he seems +very unhappy! Why are you treating him so badly, Hannah? What has he +done, that you should make his life a misery to him?” + +“Who says that I have?” she answered. + +“He did! He told me that you have refused to sit any more with him. Is +that true?” + +“Yes! He is wearing me and himself into the grave! He is never +contented, but must sit every night. I shall be ill, if it goes on. +_You_ must prevent it, Karl!” + +It was the first time she had ever presumed to call him by his +Christian name and it pleased, whilst it startled him. He drew his +chair nearer to hers. + +“I will if I can! I have just been telling Ricardo how bad it is for +you both! But you are not kind to him, Hannah! He says you insult him, +how is that?” + +“Bah!” said the girl; “I am sick of his reproaches! They are all on +account of Leonora! If I tell him what is the truth, that Leonora is a +very violent spirit, and that I am more tired after one of her visits +than after twenty others, I have insulted him! + +“He is angry now, because you asked me to your house last night, and I +was happy to go. He wants to keep me shut up here all day, whilst he +gives his lessons. It is intolerable! Does he think I am not made of +flesh and blood? But what I told you once before, is true--he married +me, not to get a wife, but a medium! Well! he has got a medium, and +perhaps he will find after all, that a wife might have been a better +thing!” + +“Hannah! I am so sorry for all this,” said Von Steinberg, +thoughtfully, “Ricardo is a dear, good fellow in reality, but his +nature has been soured by adversity. He has lost everything,--wife, +fortune, and title--and it has weighed upon his mind. You must bear +with him--he is an old man now----” + +“I hate old men!” interposed Hannah. + +“No! don’t say that, for I was going to add, that he is much older +than his years, and that I don’t think that he will live for many +more! He is in such a despondent condition too, that I feel very +anxious about him, and I want you to watch him carefully. Have you any +poison about the premises--beetle poison, or oxalic acid, or any of +those mixtures, that servants use for cleaning?” + +“What do you mean?” inquired Hannah, with open eyes. + +“I mean, that if his distresses weigh too heavily upon his mind, he +may get up some night and take anything that comes to hand, to end his +life. If you have any such dangerous mixtures in the Cottage, Hannah, +you must throw them away, or lock them up. And you will be very kind +to Ricardo--for my sake, won’t you? + +“Get him a nice little hot supper, and meet him with a kind smile, +when he comes in, for he is very low-spirited to-day, and if he asks +for a séance, give him one. He has promised to dine with me alone +to-morrow, and then I will have a serious talk with him, about all +this, and show him the folly of endangering your health and his own +for the sake of his occult studies. Will you do this--for _my_ sake?” +he concluded, looking in her face. + +“Yes, for _your_ sake, Karl,” she answered, in a low voice. + +“Ah! why didn’t _I_ see the beauties in your undeveloped character, +when we first met, and marry you, instead of Ricardo?” exclaimed the +Baron, “there should have been none of this forcing of your +inclinations then! I would have carried you abroad, and let your +natural talents have full sway, until they had blossomed into +fruition. You have a big heart and soul and brain, Hannah! They only +require opportunity, to keep pace with those of anybody.” + +“And would you have taken me there?” demanded Hannah, with sudden +interest. + +“There--or anywhere!” cried Von Steinberg, rashly. + +Hannah made no answer, except what was conveyed by putting her huge +hand into his. He glanced at it, as it lay in his slenderer palm. It +was less rough, and of a better colour, than it had been, but it was +still very, _very_ far from what a lady’s hand should be! As he +regarded it, the same feeling of wonder that had assailed him before, +rose in his breast, as to _what_ it was, that fascinated him in this +woman. + +At times he felt an intolerable repugnance to her--at others, he was +drawn towards her, with an irresistible attraction! + +Was she a witch? Had she exercised any unholy spell over him? He +looked up in her face with its large, heifer-like eyes--so simple, so +bovine, it appeared--but as he gazed, an archness stole into the +eyes--a wicked smile hovered over the lips--and the Baron felt he was +victimised once more. + +“And when are we to begin this wonderful lesson?” asked Hannah, +presently. + +“You don’t seem to require any lesson to-day,” replied Von Steinberg, +“you are the most unaccountable creature I ever met in my life! If you +would only always remain the same!” + +“Then--you would tire of me. It is the way with men.” + +“Never!” replied the Baron, after the fashion of lovers; “you are the +one only woman who could never tire me! You are unlike all the rest.” + +“So you _say!_” returned Hannah. “But with regard to my husband--he is +very despondent, you tell me?” + +“Terribly so! He frightens me! Do all you can to cheer him, Hannah.” + +“And he is likely to attempt his own life?” + +“O! no! no! I hope not, most sincerely! But it will be as well to keep +all dangerous articles, such as razors, etc., out of his reach, until +his fit has passed away.” + +“_Che sarà, sarà!_” murmured Hannah, languidly. + +Von Steinberg started again. Had her lips really uttered Italian +words, and with a foreign accent. + +“You frighten me sometimes,” he said, with a gasp. “Where on earth did +you pick up that Italian proverb? We shall have you talking Greek +next.” + +“Is not the Professor Italian?” replied the girl. “Am I always to +listen and never to learn? What a fool you must take me for?” + +“I take you for the sharpest woman I ever met in my life,” exclaimed +the Baron, as he kissed the large hand which he still retained in his. +“And now I must go, as I have an appointment at one. Good-bye! Think a +great deal of what I have said to you, Hannah--and _think a little of +me!_” + +His eyes said more than his words, as he walked hastily out of the +Cottage, as if afraid to trust himself any longer in her presence. + +Hannah looked after him lazily. + +“He will be mine, when I choose it,” she said to herself, “and it may +not be long first! Ah! to have that house and all its contents placed +at my feet, as a free-will offering! I should feel as if I were in +Heaven!” + +She rose slowly from her chair, for Hannah had become very lazy in +those days, and putting on her walking things, left the Cottage also. +When she returned, she found the Professor had reached home before +her. + +It was one of the days on which he had his afternoon to himself. + +Hannah was well pleased with the turn her fortunes seemed to be +taking. She was disposed to be amiable, but Ricardo had already been +too deeply wounded, and received her advances with repugnance. + +“Leave me alone!” he said, testily, “I require none of your +attentions! I suppose my friend Von Steinberg has been talking to you, +and you feel ashamed that he should have heard of your bad conduct. +But I told him all! There is no need for me to conceal anything. + +“He saw you with me first--an ungainly, ignorant, uncouth clod of the +earth--they were the very words he used with regard to you--and he +knows what I did, in raising you to the position of my wife! He prayed +and implored me to pause and consider what I was doing before I +brought disgrace on my name and my birth and my family connections, by +linking myself to a maid-of-all-work. But I was mad--I wouldn’t listen +to him. Had I done so, I should have been spared the awful shame you +have put me to, since! I married you, because I believed you to be a +simple, amiable, kind-hearted girl----” + +“You didn’t!” interposed his wife, “you married me, because you saw +that I was a wonderful medium, and because you were always crying +after your beloved Leonora, and hoped, through me, to have daily +intercourse with her! Why don’t you tell the truth, whilst you’re +about it?” + +“Well! then, that was the truth, since you will have it,” replied the +Professor, “but I wish now that I had died before I ever met you. You +refuse to give me séances--you even say that Leonora is tired of +coming to see me--you are not commonly grateful for the benefits I +have bestowed upon you.” + +“Where are they?” cried Hannah, insolently. “I should like to see +them. Do you call it a _benefit_, for a young, hearty girl to be +married to an old dotard, who makes about enough money to keep himself +in victuals and drink, and no more? + +“Do you think it is any pleasure to me to be shut up in this little +hole, whilst you’re at work, without money, or amusements, or friends, +and when some one is good enough to take pity on me and ask me to a +pleasant party, you declare that it shall be the last time, and you +will never let me go out again.” + +“And I repeat it,” said Ricardo, “you are not fit for such gatherings. +They only make you insolent and over-bearing at home. I told you when +we were married, that you would have to perform the household duties, +as I could not afford to keep a servant. You persuaded me to go +against my own word, but it is over. I shall dismiss the girl this +evening, and for the future you shall do your own work. + +“No more parties, nor dresses for you, Madame Ricardo! You are not +fitted for them. One might as well bring a cow into a drawing-room! I +have burned the dress you wore last night, and no money will you ever +get out of me to buy another!” + +“That will be no obstacle!” exclaimed Hannah, triumphantly. “I have +money of my own--more than you are ever likely to have to give me.” + +“Where did you get it?” said Ricardo, curiously. “Who gave it to you?” + +“That’s my business, and not yours,” cried the woman, “if you are such +a beggar, that you cannot afford to give your wife a new dress, she +must get it how she can!” + +“My God!” he cried, “what do you insinuate? What do you mean me to +understand?” + +“What you like! You can prevent my leaving the house, p’r’aps, but you +can’t make me open my mouth, if I choose to keep it closed.” + +“You are a devil! You are not fit to live!” exclaimed the Professor, +as he rose from his chair, as if to advance towards her. But Hannah +was already round the other side of the table. + +“You’d like to kill me, wouldn’t you?” she cried; “as you killed +Leonora, but you would find that I wouldn’t take it quite as quietly +as she did!” + +At that name, and the announcement that Hannah knew how his first wife +had left the world, Ricardo sank down into the chair, from which he +had risen, trembling like an aspen leaf. + +“Leonora! _Killed_ Leonora!” he gasped, with a face of ashes; “who +told you such a--a--lie? What do you mean by speaking to me like +that--of accusing me--of--of----” + +Hannah stood where she was, and laughed at him. + +“Ah! who?--_who?_” she said. “Find out! It isn’t all jam to have a +medium in the house, Professor! If sperrits come for one, they will +for another, and you don’t s’pose they’d keep any secrets from me! +Poor Leonora! I wouldn’t ’ave been ’er, by long chalks! And _you_--who +pretended to be so fond of ’er! Ugh! go along with yer! If you’d had +your rights, you’d been hung on a gallows tree long afore this!” + +The wretched Professor could not answer her! He could only hide his +face in his hands, and groan. His dread secret dragged from him, as it +were, and spread out for the coarse criticism of Mrs. Battleby’s +maid-of-all-work! + +He did indeed feel at that moment, as though his punishment was +greater than he could bear. + + + + + CHAPTER XV. + +“It’s of no good crying over it now,” taunted Hannah, as the unhappy +man stirred in his seat; “you didn’t mind how much _she_ cried--did +you? You found her on a sofa with young Centi, singing a song for him, +maybe, or playing at cat’s-cradle, like a couple of babies +together--and you took out your knife, and ran her through the ’eart, +without a thought, or a pang----” + +“No! no! not without a pang, God knows!” moaned the unfortunate +Professor. + +“You drove your murdering weapon through ’er ’eart,” continued the +girl, without noticing his interpolation, “with no more mercy, than if +she had been a dangerous animal. + +“She ’ad youth and beauty, and all ’er life before ’er, but you cut it +short, without waiting for an explanation of what you saw! Do you know +what she was thinking of, just as she was dying, and you watched the +film steal over her eyes and the blood spirting in little jets from +her blue lips. If she could ’ave spoke to you in that moment, ’er last +words would ’ave been, ‘_I ’ate you!_’” + +“Let me go! Let me go! I can stand no more!” cried Ricardo, as he +rushed past her, and mounted the stairs to his own room. + +Even there, Hannah would have followed him, and continued her mental +torture, but he was too quick for her, and had locked the door before +she reached it. So she was compelled to go downstairs again, and think +of some way of passing the afternoon. + +The Baron had begged her to provide a tasty supper for Ricardo, and +she would not have liked him to hear that she had neglected his +advice, so she arrayed herself in her walking attire and sallied forth +to purchase it. + +The Markiness had made quite a little circle of acquaintances in +Hampstead, where her manners and her title, so incongruous with each +other, had excited a great amount of curiosity and interest. Mrs. +Barnett, the grocer’s wife, declared that she had quite turned her +ideas regarding the aristocracy, she was so affable and friendly-like, +and Mrs. Thomson, the butcher’s lady, said that if she had not known +that she was a marchioness, she should have taken her for one of +themselves. + +So Hannah, after having enjoyed an hour or two of converse with these +amiable creatures, returned to the Cottage with her little basket on +her arm, well primed for supper. + +First, there was a fowl, ready roasted, which she had bought at the +ham and beef shop, with a pound of cut ham to eat with it--a crisp +lettuce and some ruddy tomatoes, which were Ricardo’s greatest +luxuries--and half a dozen cheese-cakes--which were hers. + +When, with the aid of her little maid, Charlotte, who numbered fifteen +years, she had set these dainties forth upon the table, Hannah sent a +message up to her husband to say that his supper was ready, but in a +few minutes Charlotte returned, gaping, with the intelligence that the +Markiss wouldn’t answer her, and she thought he must be asleep. Then +Hannah piled a plate with something of everything on the table, and +carrying it upstairs herself, thundered such a tattoo upon the +Professor’s door, that he was obliged to answer it. + +“Who is there?” he inquired. + +“It’s me--Hannah!--I’ve brought you up your supper!” + +“I don’t want it! I don’t want anything! Go away!” was the reply. + +“Come on! Don’t be foolish! You’d better eat it!” said his wife. + +“No! no! All I want is to be left alone!” + +“All right!” exclaimed Hannah, as she placed the plate with a loud +clatter on the floor, “there it is, anyway, so don’t go and say you +haven’t had it!” + +She bounced downstairs again, with the tread of an elephant, which +Ricardo, hearing, turned on his bed and sighed. + +Hannah, however, did not sigh, but applying herself to the remains of +the supper, soon left nothing but the chicken bones for Charlotte to +dispose of. Then she took out some of her needle-work, and toiled +industriously for the best part of an hour. + +But her mind was not entirely easy the while. She was fidgety and +anxious. More than once she rose from her chair and, casting the +embroidery aside, paced up and down the little room. + +“What a fool I am!” she thought, “why should I have any scruples on +the matter? Had _he?_ Ha! ha! ha! had he?” + +When nine o’clock struck, she took a spirit flask from the cellaret +and called to her little maid to bring hot water. + +“I am going to mix the Markiss a glass of whiskey and water, he is +sure to drink it during the night, if not now, and he will want +something to make him sleep. Go and fetch a tray--now, make haste, and +bring it to me!” + +“Yes! Mum--my lady!----” replied Charlotte, who had never been able to +acquire the proper method of addressing a Marchioness. + +When she had left the room, Hannah put sugar and lemon and whiskey and +hot water into the tumbler--but then she seemed to hesitate for a +moment. + +“Folly!” she said to herself, “_che sarà, sarà!_ I _must_ be free!” + +She dashed a small quantity of white powder into the glass, as she +thought thus, and a moment later Charlotte appeared with the tray. + +“Take that up to the Markiss,” she said; “and if he don’t answer you, +say you’ve a message for him from the Baron, and when he opens the +door tell him the Baron ordered me to send him up that the last thing. +Do you understand?” + +“Yes! Mum--my lady!” + +“Now, don’t forget. Say first--‘Please, Markiss, the Baron has sent +you a message’--and when he opens the door, hand him the tray and say, +‘The Baron begged as you would drink this,’ and leave it there.” + +“Yes! Mum--my lady!” repeated the child. + +The ruse succeeded. Ricardo at first refused to unlock his door, +declaring he wanted nothing more that night, but when he heard that +Von Steinberg had a message for him, he left his bed to hear what it +was. + +When Charlotte, faithful to her orders, thrust the tray and tumbler +into his hands, and repeated the message, Hannah heard him grumble, + +“What did you disturb me for such nonsense for? Here! put the tray +down, and don’t you dare to come near me again to-night, or I’ll send +you home to your mother. Do you understand?” + +“Yes! Markiss--yes! my lord!” stammered the child, as she scuttled +down the stairs again, and ran into the kitchen. + +All was silent in the Professor’s room, and Hannah went back to her +needlework. It was the time that she usually went to bed, but she did +not feel as if she could sleep that night. At ten o’clock her little +maid crept into the parlour, white and trembling. + +“Please, Mum--my lady----” she commenced, half crying, “there’s sich a +rum noise going on upstairs--like a dog moaning. Please, do you think +it can be the Markiss!” + +“The Markiss, child!” said Hannah, who had also suddenly gone +unaccountably white, “why! what do you mean? Why should the Markiss +make a noise? It’s most likely the wind you hear through the trees!” + +“O! no! Mum--my lady--please! there’s no wind to-night, and I’m afraid +to go up to bed,” continued Charlotte, weeping. + +“What nonsense!” exclaimed her mistress, “I’ll go with you, then, but +what you have to look so scared for, I can’t imagine!” + +In consequence, she mounted to the upper storey, with the shrinking +little maid in front of her. Since Von Steinberg’s departure, Hannah +had occupied the room which had been his, whilst her servant slept in +that which had been hers. As they gained the head of the stairs, a +deep, low groan issued distinctly from Ricardo’s apartment, and made +Charlotte burst out afresh. + +“O! please, Mum, please, Mum--there it is again! O! I’m sure the pore +Markiss must be very bad in his insides! Won’t you knock at the door +and see?” + +“Yes! yes! as soon as you have gone to bed,” replied Hannah, who was +looking almost as frightened as her handmaid. She pushed the girl into +her chamber and turned the key on the outside. Whatever was happening +in her husband’s room, she would see by herself. She tapped lightly on +the door, but no answer proceeded from the bed, only another low +half-stifled moan, as though an animal lay dying there. + +Hannah flew downstairs again and passed out of the front door into the +fresh evening air. She was not afraid of Charlotte turning witness +against her; she would accept any explanation she chose to give--she +was only afraid of encountering those hollow groans again. + +After half an hour’s suspense, she re-entered the cottage. A violent +tapping was proceeding from Charlotte’s door. Hannah went first to +inquire why she made such a noise. + +“O! please, Mum--my lady--’is groans is dreadful! Won’t you give ’im a +drop of ile, or a pennorth of peppermint?” + +“He has locked his door, Charlotte, you know, and I can’t get in. But +if he is not quiet soon, I must send for the Doctor!” + +She conjured her little maid to be easy, and went downstairs in search +of a box of carpentering tools. Here she found a crowbar, with which +she knew she could force the Professor’s door. She crept up again with +it in her hand, and listened attentively. There was not a sound in the +room of any kind. + +“Either it is over,” she thought, “or he is asleep! Ought I to send +for assistance, or force the door myself? Should I not be justified in +any circumstances in entering the room, considering the groans that +have proceeded from it? Charlotte will be my witness to them! And if a +stranger went in, and _he_--should--should be still alive--alive +enough to give evidence against me--O no! at all risks, _I_ must be +the one to see him first, and then I can judge what is best to be +done.” + +She applied the crowbar to the door with her vigorous hand as she +thought thus, and the lock gave way before it. For an instant, she +hesitated on the threshold--then summoning her courage, dashed in and +approached the bed. + +The Professor was just dying--his eyes were glazed--his hands fallen +lifeless by his side. The sight, instead of inspiring pity in Hannah’s +breast, roused a demoniacal fury there. Her husband looked at her as +though to say “_You have done this_”, and she bent over him and hissed +one word into his ear--“_Leonora!_” + +At the mention of that name, which had been his pride and his shame +throughout his life, the Professor gave a final moan and slightly +turning over--_died!_ His wife gazed at him for a moment, as if she +could not believe the truth--then, with a shudder, she flung the +blanket over his staring eyes, and rushed from the room. + +Her next move was to unlock Charlotte, and order her to dress herself +as soon as possible and go to Portland Place to summon the Baron. + +“To Portland Place, Mum--my lady!” exclaimed the little maid, who had +hardly ever walked out by daylight, alone. + +“Yes! the Markiss is very ill! You must take a cab and go there as +quickly as you can, and beg the Baron to come to me at once! Say that +your master is in terrible pain--tell him of the moans you heard--and +that I am very unhappy about it, and must have a doctor at once. Mind +you say how dreadfully anxious I am, Charlotte, and that I have done +everything I can, but it is of no good!” + +“’Ave you been into ’is room, Mum?” demanded Charlotte, with surprise. + +“Yes! yes! but don’t stand chattering there! Go as quick as ever you +can, and don’t forget one word of what I have told you.” + +When the child was gone, Hannah sat down in the parlour to await the +issue of events. She could not return to the bedroom nor draw the +blanket off those staring eyes. There Von Steinberg found her, an hour +later, when he returned with the little maid. + +“Why! what is this?” he exclaimed, as he took her hand; “is my poor +friend ill? Where is he? Let me see him at once!” + +“There!” replied Hannah, pointing upwards with her finger; “He looks +dreadful! I can’t stand it! Whatever has happened, that he should be +like this?” + +“And you have left him alone, when he is so ill?” said the Baron, +reproachfully, “O! Hannah! I did not think you would do that!” + +“He has locked himself into his room all day--Charlotte will tell you +so--and wouldn’t come down to supper, or take anything--and just now I +forced open the door, and he swore at me--so I was frightened, and +sent for you!” + +“You did right!” said Von Steinberg, as he ran up the stairs to +Ricardo’s room. + +But the first glance told him that his services would be of no avail. +The Professor was dead as a doornail. His head was thrown back--his +eyes were wide open and starting from their sockets--his body had half +fallen from the bed. + +Karl von Steinberg felt his heart--pressed his eyeballs--laid his hand +on his pulse--and uttered a deep sigh. + +“Gone! my poor Ricardo!” he exclaimed, “and I fear, by your own hand!” +He caught sight of the tumbler, which had contained the whiskey and +water, and raising it to his nose, shook his head mournfully. + +“As I thought!” he mused. “O! I should not have left him alone, after +what he said to me this morning! It is half my fault that this has +happened. I shall never forgive myself!” + +He lifted the poor wasted carcase on to the bed, closed the eyelids, +laid the arms by his side, and softly closing the door, went +downstairs again. + +“My poor girl!” he exclaimed, as he rejoined Hannah, “you must prepare +yourself for a great shock. Our good friend has left us, Hannah! He is +dead!” + +“Quite dead,” repeated, Hannah; “are you sure?” + +“Quite sure! and, what is worse, I am certain he took his own life! O! +I blame myself so much for leaving him, after the conversation we held +this morning. I should have watched over him better. But I did not +think he was really in earnest. My poor Ricardo! I think his work and +these séances have been too much for him, and over-taxed his brain. +He was the last man that I thought would have contemplated suicide! +But it is too evident! The glass on his table contains the remains of +arsenic--I could tell it at a glance!” + +“Arsenic!” echoed Hannah, “but where can he have got arsenic?” + +“Anywhere! It is used for so many things. Doubtless he bought it +to-day whilst he was out. How did he appear on his return home?” + +“Very queer!” replied Hannah, “he wouldn’t speak to Charlotte or me, +but went straight up to his room and locked the door. I went out and +got him a nice little supper, as you told me----” + +“Good girl!” interpolated the Baron---- + +“But he wouldn’t touch it, though I took it up to him myself, but I +thought he would like some whiskey and water. So Charlotte and me, we +mixed it for him--didn’t we, Charlotte?--and she carried it up, but +even then he wouldn’t open his door, until she told him that _you_ had +ordered him to take it! And then I suppose he--he----” + +“Yes! there is no question about it. He mixed the poison he had +purchased, with the whiskey, and drank it off. My poor friend! Little +did I think he would come to so sad an end! Well! I suppose the +hankering to rejoin his Leonora was too strong for him. I only hope he +is happy with her now!” + +“I fancy she has had enough of him,” remarked Hannah. + +“Anyway we shall hear the truth from him when he comes back to us! I +should think he was sure to come back through you, Hannah!” + +Hannah gave a visible shudder. + +“O! don’t speak of such a thing, pray! I shouldn’t like him to come +back. I don’t think he behaved well to me at the last! I don’t never +want to see him again.” + +“Don’t say that! You will think differently after a time. You mustn’t +blame him, Hannah! The very fact that he has taken his own life should +convince you that he was not completely in his right mind. Poor +Ricardo! He suffered much in his lifetime, and endured many losses. We +must think as kindly of him now, as we can.” + +She seemed so visibly affected, and displayed such a horror of going +upstairs, that the Baron took all the arrangements that were necessary +in his own hands. Before nightfall, everything was settled regarding +the inquest, which was to take place on the following day--the remains +of the poor Professor were placed in a coffin--and the ground was +purchased wherein he was to be laid. + +Von Steinberg had sufficient influence to prevent a verdict of _felo +de se_, being brought in, and his friend was allowed to be buried with +the rites of the Church. + +As soon as it was possible, he erected a handsome monument above his +grave, which detailed his real name and rank, and then the Baron +turned his attention to Hannah. She still remained in the Cottage and +appeared to have no intention of leaving it. + +Von Steinberg knew that in order to accomplish this, she must have +some assistance. All the Professor’s modest savings did not amount to +a couple of hundred pounds, and these the widow was very anxious +should be deposited in a bank for her against a time of need. + +“But how are you to live meanwhile, Hannah?” questioned Von Steinberg +who was most anxious for her welfare; “you have never kept house for +yourself yet, you know, and money goes a very little way in London. +You must let me help you! I will take no denial! Look on me as a +brother, and let me have the pleasure of doing for you, what dear old +Ricardo would have done for a friend of mine, left in similar +circumstances.” + +“But I do not need it. I shall have enough!” persisted Hannah. + +“How do you intend to get it? What do you mean to do?” he asked. + +“Heaps of things,” she replied; “I am a good needlewoman and a good +cook!” + +“Needlewoman! Cook!” exclaimed the Baron, indignantly, “do you suppose +for an instant, that I will allow the widow of my dear friend Ricardo +to engage in such menial pursuits? You are much mistaken if you do. +Besides, you have adopted his title. How do you suppose that will +accord with the occupations you speak of?” + +“Never mind!” said Hannah, decidedly, “I know what I’m about, and I +don’t want any money from you.” + +She was obstinate, and he ceased to worry her on the subject. All the +same, he often wondered how it was, that she continued, without aid, +to occupy the cottage and retain the services of her little maid. + +Once or twice he questioned Charlotte, but could get no satisfactory +information from her. “The Markiness goes out to see her friends in +the evenings mostly,” she said, “and all day she works at her dresses, +and shows me how to cook the dinner.” + +This reticence on the part of the Marchesa di Sorrento, made Von +Steinberg all the more eager to pursue her and win her to be his. +Perhaps she knew this, as well as he did himself, at any rate it had +the effect of binding him more closely to her. + +Shortly after the Professor’s death, his friend felt anxious to +communicate with him. It would be the best test he had ever had in his +life, he thought, if dear old Ricardo would come back in a +recognisable form and assure him of his identity. + +He never doubted but that Hannah, when the first shock of her +husband’s death was over, would gladly fall in with his wishes and +hold a séance, so that the Professor might have an opportunity of +communicating with them both again. + +But, to his surprise, she steadfastly opposed the idea. + +She didn’t want to sit at all, she said. She had had more than enough +of that sort of thing during her married life, and never even wished +to hear the subject mentioned. She no longer believed in it--the +spirits were not the people they professed to be--she had come to the +conclusion that her father and mother were right, and that they were +devils sent by the Evil One himself to lure her soul to hell. + +Von Steinberg reasoned and argued with her to no effect. She remained +unmoved by all his persuasions, and since he had only pursued the +subject, as a science and not a sentimentality, he gave in to her +wishes and said no more about it. + +He was convinced that Spiritualism was a fact, and resolved to remain +satisfied with that knowledge. So--although he longed to see his old +friend again, and learn the true reason of his rash act--he decided +that it was not worth while annoying Hannah to obtain it. + +The circumstance, however, made him turn his attention in the +direction of other mediums, and in talking with his acquaintances he +said, more than once, how anxious he was to fall in with a reliable +one. + +In consequence of this, a man named Colonel Roster said to him one +day, + +“By the way, Von Steinberg, my wife has got hold of a most wonderful +medium, and she is to sit at our house this evening. Would you care to +join the party?” + +“Thanks! I should like it exceedingly! There is nothing interests me +more. Does this medium produce materialisations?” + +“O dear yes! Nothing else, I believe! The last time she sat with us, +my sister appeared, exactly as she was in life. I could have sworn to +her anywhere, and several of our friends have seen their relations. Do +come! Mrs. Roster will be delighted to see you!” + +“I will, with pleasure!” replied the Baron. + +At the appointed time, he presented himself at the Rosters’ house, and +found a large party assembled there, all of whom were talking of +nothing but the marvellous powers of Mrs. Brown, the medium who was +expected that evening. + +“Where did you pick her up?” asked the Baron, of the lady of the +house. + +“Through an advertisement in one of the spiritualistic papers,” she +replied, “she is rather uncouth at times, but essentially reliable. +Indeed, I never met anyone like her before. But here she comes!” + +Von Steinberg looked up with curiosity, and encountered the form and +face of Hannah. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI. + +As is usual in such cases, the woman was the first to regain her +presence of mind. The encounter was as unexpected to Hannah, as to the +Baron, but she evinced no visible sign of surprise. She only stood +quite still, as if she had never seen him before. + +Von Steinberg, on the contrary, was nearly betraying her and himself. +He stammered and stuttered and coloured rosy red, but at last managed +to utter, + +“Ah! Mrs. Brown! Of course! I think we have had the pleasure of +meeting before,” and advanced towards her, holding out his hand. + +Hannah accepted the hand, without comment. + +“Met before!” exclaimed Mrs. Roster. “O! where? I flattered myself +that I was the discoverer of Mrs. Brown’s remarkable talents,--at +least in our own circle. I suppose then, Baron, that you have already +been present at her marvellous séances.” + +“Mrs. Brown is the widow of an old and dear friend of mine,” he +answered, evasively. + +“A widow!” echoed the lady of the house; “and does your husband ever +return to you, Mrs. Brown? How intensely interesting! This will make +the third time we have sat with her, Baron,” she continued to Von +Steinberg, “and each time we have seen the form of a man whom no one +in the party recognised. I wonder if it could have been Mr. Brown.” + +“Hush!” said the Baron, cautiously, and indeed the pallor which had +suddenly stolen over Hannah’s usually rubicund countenance, quite +justified him in saying so. + +“O! I am sorry!” returned Mrs. Roster, as she busied herself in +pressing the medium to take some refreshment before she entered the +séance room. + +Hannah faintly asked for a glass of water, and sat down apparently +exhausted in her chair. When the water was brought to her, she drank a +little, and finally declaring she felt too ill to sit, and must +postpone the séance to another day, she rose and quitted the room and +house. + +The disappointed sitters gazed at each other in consternation. Colonel +Roster attributed all the blame to his wife. + +“What on earth made you allude to her dead husband in so indiscreet a +manner?” he demanded, sharply. “You have just spoilt our evening! What +widow ever wanted the return of Number One, to spy out her doings with +Number Two? We have no one but you to thank for this disappointment!” + +“O! I am sorry,” cried his wife; “I thought as everybody’s relations +came back through her, Mr. Brown would be sure to have done so. And it +was only a surmise on my part after all. You say you know her, Baron! +Is she always as sensitive as this?” + +“By no means,” replied Von Steinberg, “and I think she must really be +feeling ill. Besides, she has no reason to fear the return of her +husband, who was very good to her! I cannot believe that your allusion +had anything to do with her defalcation. She felt unequal to the +sitting--that is all!” + +“You take a load off my mind by saying so,” said Mrs. Roster, “and I +can only hope that when she comes here again, you will be with us, as +on this occasion.” + +“You are very kind,” returned Von Steinberg, “but may I ask you one +question? Mrs. Brown was going to sit with you professionally, of +course! What is her fee? I should like to ascertain, for the +information of my friends!” + +“Two guineas!” replied the lady, without hesitation. “She did not ask +more! I heard of her through my dressmaker, Mrs. Folkstone, but I +understood that she gave her services somewhat secretly, and it was +not to be talked about. I am so sorry you have missed seeing her--but +perhaps you have sat with her already.” + +“Once or twice,” said Von Steinberg, carelessly, and then the subject +dropped. + +His friends detained him so late that he could not get out to the +cottage at Hampstead that night, or he certainly would have followed +Hannah to her home, and asked the reason of what he had seen and +heard. He could hardly understand why, but he disliked the idea of her +selling her services to the public, exceedingly. + +It was no matter to him that she was dowdily dressed, and known as +“Mrs. Brown”;--he could not bear to think that she placed herself +under such an obligation to strangers--that she should belong, as it +were, to the public, when he wanted to have her entirely as his own. + +His meditations that night revealed the truth to him. He was so +fascinated by Hannah Ricardo, that he wished to marry her, and shield +her for ever from the slights and obligations of the world. No one +could have been more amazed than himself, when he had arrived at this +conclusion. He had been a student of men and manners, but he had never +lit on anything more incomprehensible than this before. + +He wanted to marry Hannah Stubbs--he, who had so opposed the same idea +in his friend. Ricardo had formed the wish, in order to keep Leonora +by his side, whilst he, Von Steinberg, desired the same thing solely +for Hannah. + +He longed to possess this woman, with her overwhelming +personality--her clumsy movements--her broad smile--her arch looks and +witching eyes--for herself alone, and himself entirely. + +He tried to recall her, as she used to be, but failed to do so. She +seemed to have cast aside her chrysalis shell and emerged (in mind at +least) a butterfly! And yet outwardly, there was no difference! + +Where did the fascination lie? He could not determine, but felt that +it was there, and that in her was contained the happiness of his +future life. + +He rose early, and was at the Hampstead cottage by eleven o’clock. + +His first words to her were those of reproach. + +“Hannah! how could you do this thing without letting me know? It +nearly paralysed me to meet you at the Rosters last night in the +capacity of a public medium. What would dear old Ricardo say, if he +could know it?” + +“Then he should have left me enough to exist upon,” replied Hannah, +“Charlotte and I can’t live on dry bread--even if we got enough of +that!” + +“But I have asked you again and again, in case of need, to apply to +me. What is the use of being your friend, if I may not have the +pleasure of helping you out of your difficulties? You deprive me of +one of the great privileges of friendship! And to sit when you are ill +too! It is so unlike you to turn faint! You must have been sadly +overworking yourself! Are you quite recovered this morning?” + +“Quite, thank you,” replied Hannah, reservedly--reservedly on purpose +to make him speak out. + +“I am glad of that,” said Von Steinberg, “but to return to our +subject;--I trust you do not intend to follow up Spiritualism as a +means of livelihood for the future!” + +Hannah lay back in her chair, lazily, and fixed her large, full eyes +upon him. + +“Why not?” she demanded. + +“For a dozen reasons! Principally, because your husband so decidedly +set his face against it, and then because I--I, who am your greatest +and truest friend, Hannah, think it is beneath you, and degrades you.” + +“But I must live!” persisted the woman. + +“Are there not other ways? If your money will not suffice to keep you +comfortably for a year or two----” + +“And what after that?” she exclaimed. + +The Baron hesitated. Should he make the fatal plunge? + +“My purse is always open to you, Hannah,” he faltered. + +“I have already told you, Baron, that I cannot consent to be a +pensioner upon your charity,” she replied. “You speak of what the +world will say! The world would talk a great deal more of your paying +my bills, than it would of my giving séances to keep myself! It can +never be! That is decided!” + +“Then give me the right to empty the contents of my purse at your +feet, Hannah,” cried Von Steinberg, losing control of himself. “Come +to me as my wife, and the mistress of all I possess! Marry me--be the +Baronne von Steinberg, and let us pass the rest of our lives +together.” + +“I could not give up my title of Marchesa for that of Baronne,” +remarked Hannah, coolly. + +“You may call yourself what you choose, so long as you will be my +wife!” repeated the Baron. “Hannah! I have longed to ask you this ever +since you were free. Crown my happiness by giving me your promise +now!” + +“It is too soon to think of such a thing,” argued Hannah--“only three +months after my husband’s death!” + +But her reluctance only urged him on to fresh entreaties. Perhaps she +was clever enough to know it would! + +“What does that signify?” he said, “what is Time to dear Ricardo now, +and whose opinion do we care for, but his? He is happy, I am sure, and +would wish to see you happy, and well provided for, too. Come! Hannah, +do not let any absurd scruples stand in the way of my proposal. No one +need even know when the ceremony takes place. We are both almost +strangers in London! + +“Who is to be the wiser what we do, or leave undone! Let me marry you +quietly some morning, as poor Ricardo did, and carry you off at once +to the Continent. There, we can stay a month, or a year, as pleases us +best, and when we return, I will instal you as mistress of my house in +Portland Place, and all I have. Come! is it a bargain?” + +As Von Steinberg mentioned his property, Hannah’s eyes glistened with +pleasurable anticipation. _This_ was what she had been working +for--what she had known she would gain at the last. She turned her +voluptuous orbs upon him, and languidly held out her large hand. + +The Baron seized it and kissed it with rapture. It would have +signified nothing to him at that moment, had it been twice as large. +The woman had magnetised his every sense, and he was a tool in her +hands. + +“And when shall it be, Hannah?” he asked, as soon as he had recovered +his powers of speech. “To-day?--to-morrow?--it cannot be too soon.” + +“Not for you, perhaps,” she replied, with all the airs of a grand +lady, “but you forget, Baron, that I cannot start on a wedding-tour, +in a black dress and a widow’s bonnet! You must be good enough to draw +my small principal from the bank for me, and allow me a few weeks in +which to spend it, so that I may be able to appear as your wife should +do!” + +“A few weeks!” exclaimed Von Steinberg, with really comical dismay, “I +will send you the money this afternoon, and surely a few days should +see you fully equipped. You need not wait to have things made in +London. Get just what may be necessary for the moment, and buy your +wardrobe in Paris!” + +“In Paris!” exclaimed Hannah, “will you really take me to Paris?” + +“Certainly! and to stay there if you desire it! There is no place on +earth to which I would not take you, Hannah, if you told me to do so, +but I think a residence in Paris will suit us both entirely.” + +He lavished kisses on her flat, good-humoured face, and Hannah +returned them in kind, for a passionate temperament was not the least +of her virtues. + +Before they parted that morning, it was decided that the marriage +should take place privately in a fortnight’s time, and that they were +to leave England the same day for the Continent. Hannah promised she +would give no more public séances, and really looked quite handsome +under the prospect of renewed happiness--not to say the acquisition of +the house in Portland Place, and all its treasures, to which her eyes +had so longingly turned. + +Once more by himself at home, Karl von Steinberg had leisure to wonder +if his action of the morning had been wise. Hannah had not proved, in +all things, quite amenable to the discipline of his old friend, but +then Ricardo _was_ old--he told himself--and May and December never +did hit it off well together yet. He was far more suitable in age to +Hannah, and would prove a livelier companion. + +It was astonishing to remember how young she was--only nineteen--and +yet so worldly-wise in some things, and in others so quick and +cunning! She had wonderfully developed since her marriage--no one +would know her for the same girl--she doubtless possessed vast +capabilities, which travel and his society would tend to unfold. The +Baron quite anticipated bringing back an accomplished lady from the +Continent. + +And he was not far wrong! Hannah _had_ developed powers of observation +and attainment, which bid fair to let her stop at nothing short of +excellence. Each time the Baron met her, face to face, the half-formed +doubts which he held, as to the wisdom of the marriage, faded away, +and left him with but one certainty--that he could not live without +her. The plans they had formed, then, were faithfully carried out, and +within a fortnight, the same Registrar who had married her to Signor +Ricardo, transformed Hannah Stubbs into the Baronne von +Steinberg--though (as she had previously informed her husband) she +always intended to retain her old title of Marchesa di Sorrento. + +Are the raptures which we anticipate in marriage, or any other +exploit, ever realised to their full extent? As a rule, surely not, +and Von Steinberg was no exception. Hannah remained the same after +marriage as she had been before, but the novelty of possession soon +wore off, and when that occurred, Von Steinberg of all men, with his +cool, calculating German temperament, was the most likely to see the +spots upon the sun. + +However, they established themselves in Paris, and a few months of the +gay city did wonders for his wife in the way of polish and manners. +Naturally quick and cunning, and with a remarkable facility for the +acquisition of languages, the Marchesa soon lost most of her +vulgarisms and became quite _au fait_ with great people and their +ways. + +The English who met her abroad, put all her eccentricities down to the +fact that she was an Italian Marchesa, and the Parisians ascribed them +to the misfortune of her having been born a Briton. But Hannah made +the most of her opportunities. She went out whenever she was invited, +mixing freely with foreigners, as well as her own countrymen, and in +consequence, gathering knowledge and information wherever they were to +be found. + +By this means, when, after a year’s residence abroad, Baron von +Steinberg brought his wife back to England, if not still in love with +her, he had ceased to be ashamed of her. But the same perplexity which +had puzzled him in Ricardo’s time, still stirred in his brain. _What_ +was it in Hannah that attracted him, spite of himself? Sometimes he +felt ready to lay down his life for her--at others, he regarded her +with disfavour, almost with repugnance! + +But as the mistress of his house--the dispenser of his +hospitality--she was perfect. She had a courteous and gracious manner, +which she extended equally to peer and peasant, and which made +strangers, who had never seen another side to her character, consider +her the most charming hostess under the sun. Whilst when at other +moments she spoke her mind freely--far too freely--concerning people +and their actions, her visitors still ascribed it to her genuineness +and total disregard of what the world might say, or think. + +What astonished Von Steinberg more than anything else, was the +complacency with which she accepted the fact of his wealth, and the +nonchalance with which she treated his pictures, and statues, and +hot-house flowers. She took everything that he gave her, as if she had +been used to it all her life--she accepted it from him graciously, but +she was not overwhelmed with gratitude for his generosity. He would +not have had her betray her lowly birth and breeding, by expressing +ignorance of such luxuries, but it amazed him, all the same. + +He thought his wife had everything she could have expected, and a +great deal more than she had any right to demand, but yet Hannah was +not satisfied. As soon as they were settled in town, they commenced to +give a series of magnificent parties, and their rooms were crowded +with sycophantic guests, mostly of the middle class--the sort of +people who will go anywhere--to whom a party means a dance, or a +supper, and who care nothing who gives it, so long as it is given. + +His visitors satisfied the Baron, but the Marchesa had higher +views--she aspired to see the aristocracy sitting round her +dinner-table, and quoting her hospitality as the freest in London--her +cook as the best to be got anywhere. It was all very well, she +thought, to be entertaining Colonel and Mrs. Langley, or Mr. and Mrs. +Belleville, but what use were they to her in return? + +She wanted Dukes and Duchesses and Earls and Countesses at her +receptions, and to make them not only come, but _ask_ to come. She +racked her clever brain over this many a time and oft, without letting +her husband into the secret, and one day the opportunity came to her. + +She was receiving a number of ladies at afternoon tea, when the +conversation suddenly turned on Spiritualism. + +The Marchesa, who was leaning back on a settee, arrayed in a tea-gown +of maize coloured satin, trimmed with costly lace, affected to know +nothing of the matter. + +“What is it?” she inquired, languidly, “nothing wicked, I hope, Mrs. +Mostyn.” + +“O! dear me, no! Marchesa, how could you imagine such a thing?” +replied her guest. “It is only a game, you know! Sitting round a table +and making it spin and answer questions, and all such nonsense!” + +“It is a great deal more than that,” interposed an unmarried lady, +named Selwyn, “it is a very serious thing! Spiritualism is raising the +spirits of the Dead, and our clergyman, Mr. Tennant, says it is +sorcery, and condemned by Scripture. My mamma will not hear of my +having anything to do with it, which has been a great disappointment +to me, for the Countess of Loreley----” + +“Well! if you are interested in the pursuit, I am sure there can be no +need to wait for your mamma’s permission,” interrupted Mrs. Mostyn, +rudely, “you are surely old enough to judge for yourself. I do think +it is so ridiculous of mothers, trying to keep their grown-up +daughters in leading strings. Why! I had a couple of children before I +was your age!” + +“You were speaking of the Countess of Loreley,” said the Marchesa, +with the apparent view of changing the conversation, “does her +Ladyship take an interest in the subject?” + +“O! yes, she is quite wild about it,” replied Miss Selwyn, who was +looking red and confused from Mrs. Mostyn’s attack; “and mamma has +prevented my going there as often as usual, in consequence. Lady +Loreley is my godmother, you know, and I used to be always at her +house, but now----” + +“Has Mrs. Selwyn compelled you to give up the Countess’s +acquaintance?” asked Hannah, indifferently. + +“O! no, but I do not see her so often, and never when there is to be a +séance! Very unfair, isn’t it? not that I care so much about the +séance, but I would not lose Lady Loreley’s goodwill for all the +world.” + +“The Countess believes in Spiritualism then?” + +“O! yes! entirely! She is always sitting with some medium or other, +but she says they are very unsatisfactory. She told me yesterday, that +she would give hundreds of pounds to find a medium, who could bring +her little Rosie back to speak with her again.” + +“Much better leave the poor child in peace--wherever she may be!” +remarked Mrs. Mostyn with a sneer. + +“Perhaps you have never lost a child, Mrs. Mostyn,” said the single +lady. + +“No! nor you either, I conclude, my dear,” replied the other, “but all +this talk about Spiritualism is only got up for want of a better +excitement. For my own part I don’t believe a word of it, and I am +sure the Marchesa agrees with me!” + +“One should be careful to reserve one’s opinion, when one has not +inquired into a thing!” replied Hannah, as she reclined on her couch +and gently fanned herself. + +But when her visitors rose to depart, and Miss Selwyn was about to +leave the room with the rest of the party, she detained her by a +gentle pull at her sleeve. + +“Wait a moment longer,” she whispered, “I want to speak to you,” and +Miss Selwyn, who was only too pleased to be singled out for favour by +the Marchesa, dallied with a book of engravings, which lay upon a side +table, until the rest were gone. + +“Tell me more about this poor Countess,” said Hannah, drawing nearer +to her; “I feel so interested in any one who has lost a dear child--a +girl, I think you said.” + +“O! yes, Marchesa,” replied Miss Selwyn, “Lady Rose Charleville--such +a dear little creature. She died of scarlet fever at seven years old, +and though Lady Loreley has married daughters, she has never forgotten +her. She always cries when Lady Rose is mentioned.” + +“Poor dear!” said Hannah, sympathetically, “how I wish I could help +her! And I think I could, if she would come and see me!” + +“Could you _really?_” cried Miss Selwyn, clasping her hands, “O! +Marchesa, how she would bless you for it! She would worship you! But +how is it to be accomplished?” + +“That is _my_ secret, my dear! I know more of this matter than I chose +to say in public, and if you like to bring your Countess here, I will +introduce her to some one who may put her in the way of seeing her +child again! But you mustn’t chatter on the subject, for if the Baron +heard that I encouraged anything of the sort, he would be very angry. +It is not only your mamma, Miss Selwyn, who disapproves of +Spiritualism.” + +“O! I know that, and I would not mention what you have told me for all +the world. But when may I bring the Countess here!” + +“On second thoughts, I think you had better tell her what I have said, +and leave her to make her own appointment with me. I could not permit +you to assist at our conference, you know, for fear of offending your +mamma.” + +“Perhaps it will be better not,” replied the girl, in a disappointed +tone, “for I have promised mamma never to attend a sitting again. May +I tell Lady Loreley that you will have the medium here to meet her, +Marchesa? I shall see her this evening!” + +“You had better say nothing, but what I have told you--that if she +wishes it, I think I can help her to see her child again. Then she can +make an appointment with me, or not, as she chooses!” + +“Fancy! her _not_ choosing!” exclaimed Miss Selwyn, “why, she will +rush to you as soon as ever she can!” + +And in effect, the very next day Hannah received a coronetted note +from the Countess of Loreley, to say that, with her kind permission, +she would call in Portland Place that afternoon. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII. + +No one who had seen the Marchesa, as she sat in her drawing-room, +awaiting the arrival of the Countess of Loreley, would have recognised +her as the maid-of-all-work, Hannah Stubbs, who had married Signor +Ricardo, from Mrs. Battleby’s lodging-house, less than three years +before. She wore a robe fashioned by a dressmaker, chosen for her by +the Baron; her abundant hair had been arranged by her lady’s maid in +the height of the prevailing style; she displayed one or two articles +of costly jewelry; she was neither under, nor overdressed. + +Her personal appearance, also, was wonderfully improved, Hannah was +not yet twenty-one, but she looked thirty. Her figure was still +unshapely and abundantly covered with flesh, but her skin was +smoother, and her complexion and hands properly attended to. + +She was still a coarse specimen of her sex--there have been such +anomalies in this world as coarse and vulgar duchesses, and when bred +to the position into the bargain--and she would never be really +handsome, but there was a bonhomie in her expression, and a frank +good-humour in her smile, which was, perhaps, all that remained of +Hannah Stubbs in her composition. + +Lady Loreley, who had been led by Miss Selwyn, to expect something +altogether out of the common in the Marchesa di Sorrento, (--“Awfully +good-natured, dear Lady Loreley, you know, but O! such a moving mass +of flesh--like a female elephant--and says such queer things at times, +but she thinks she can help you and so,” etc, etc,--) was quite taken +by surprise, when Hannah, perfectly at her ease, but with +unquestionable welcome beaming from her eyes, rose from the sofa to +say how pleased she was to make her acquaintance. + +The two women sat down to afternoon tea together, and were soon on +friendly terms. Naturally, the topic which engrossed Lady Loreley’s +thoughts was not long in coming to the front. + +“Miss Selwyn delivered your most kind message to me, Marchesa,” +commenced the bereaved mother, “and you must not be surprised at my +availing myself of your kindness at so early a period. My dear child +was my idol, the youngest of my large family, and I lost her in so +cruelly sudden a manner. Only four days ill of scarlet fever, and she +had gone from us. She could not stand up against it! She was always +delicate, my poor little Rose! And is it possible that you can help me +to see her? O! Marchesa!” cried the Countess, seizing her hands, “if +you can, I shall be your debtor to the last day of my life. Only one +glimpse, that is all I ask, one glimpse to assure me that she lives +and that I shall meet her again, and I shall die content!” + +The Marchesa did not release the Countess’s hands--on the contrary, +she retained and pressed them firmly. + +“Is your Ladyship aware of the method pursued in such cases? Do you +know that the services of a materialising medium are necessary, and +that often even they are not successful?” + +“Yes! yes! but I should not mind how often I had to sit, if I only +succeed at last! And expense is no object whatever! I have tried all +sorts of mediums, dear Marchesa, but have never heard a word, nor seen +a sign of her! O! it has been heart-rending--discouraging--but I shall +never cease trying till I succeed!” + +“I think I know a way by which you can see her!” replied Hannah, whose +eyes had been dreamily fixed upon space for the last minute. + +“Pray, pray, tell it to me!” exclaimed the Countess, with agitation. + +“One moment! I must ask you first to bind yourself to the strictest +secrecy! My husband, the Baron, is like many in the present day, most +averse to my mixing myself up in Spiritualism with any but himself, +and if he heard that you and I had been sitting together, he would +certainly forbid me to help you any more!” + +“I will be secret as the grave!” said Lady Loreley, fervently; “no one +shall ever hear a word of it from me!” + +“Not even the Earl, or Miss Selwyn?” asked Hannah. + +“No one! Not even my nearest and dearest, unless you give me leave!” +was the reply. + +“Then you must come with me to my private boudoir,” said the Marchesa. + +“What! is the medium there?” + +“Yes! she will be there!” replied Hannah, as she rang the bell and +desired the servant to deny her to any other callers. + +Then, she led the way up to her little boudoir, round which the +Countess looked curiously. + +“You have successfully concealed your medium, dear Marchesa!” she +said. + +“No! Lady Loreley, she is in full view! _I_ am the medium!” + +Her visitor started with surprise. + +“_You!_ Are you jesting with me, Marchesa? Is it possible that you can +call back the spirits of the Dead?” + +“Just as possible as anybody else! No one can _call_ them back, Lady +Loreley! But they come all the same, when they get the opportunity! +Are you nervous? Shall you be afraid to sit in the dark with me?” + +“O! no! I don’t think so,” replied the Countess, who was already +shivering with fright. + +Hannah lowered the blinds, closed the dark red silk curtains, locked +the door and taking a seat on the sofa, invited Lady Loreley to sit +beside her and hold her hand. + +“But don’t you require a table?” inquired the Countess. + +“Not that I know of,” replied Hannah. “No spirit that has ever come to +me, has made any request of the sort! I don’t even know if they use +tables over there. Don’t you see a bluish mist rising, close by the +window curtains? Don’t be frightened if I go to sleep. I generally do, +but you will be quite safe. Nothing can hurt you.” + +And as she was in the midst of talking thus, the Marchesa went under +control and knew nothing more. When she awoke, she found the Countess +of Loreley on her knees before her, sobbing as if her heart would +break. + +“O! you dear Angel!” she cried, “I can never, _never_ thank you +enough, for what you have done for me to-day. You are a wonder! a +miracle! You must have been sent on earth by God, expressly to give +comfort to broken-hearted mothers like myself!” + +“Why! have you seen anything?” demanded Hannah, rousing herself from +her benumbing trance. + +“Seen anything!” echoed Lady Loreley, “I have seen that which has +transformed me from a despairing woman to a happy one! I have seen my +little Rose! You said you saw a bluish mist near the window. She +walked straight out of that mist, and smiled at me! I spoke to her, +and I thought her lips moved, but I could not hear any words, but she +smiled at me--she stood there in her little white nightdress and bare +feet, just as she was, dear darling! when I laid her in her +coffin--and I know she lives, and I am happy once more--and O! dear +Marchesa, what can I ever do to show my gratitude to you?” + +“Only be quiet,” said Hannah, holding up her hand, “and say nothing to +anybody. Come and see me sometimes, Lady Loreley, and the more +intimate you become with me, the more clearly you will see your little +Rose, and the more confidently will she come back to you! Did no one +else appear?” + +“No one whom I recognised! An old man’s face seemed hovering over your +head, but it frightened me rather, and I did not look.” + +At those words “an old man’s face”, the Marchesa seemed to shiver +slightly, and her next injunction was delivered rather hurriedly, + +“Now, mind, Countess, you must not breathe a word of what has occurred +this afternoon to any one, or it will never happen again. The Baron +would be so angry he would forbid my sitting with you at all! You can +see that I say this for _your_ sake, more than for my own.” + +“O! yes, indeed,” said Lady Loreley, “but, Marchesa--I was going to +ask you such a great favour! My eldest daughter, the Duchess of +Penywern, lost her baby last year--such a splendid boy, heir, of +course, to the title and estates, and she would give her life, I +verily believe, to see him again. + +“And my aunt, Lady John Valerian, who is most interested in +Spiritualism, would consider it such an inestimable favour, if you +would let her accompany me, next time I have the pleasure of visiting +you! They would be as silent as myself concerning our visits here, I +can assure you, and I am certain you would like them both--my daughter +especially, who is a most amiable young woman.” + +Hannah considered for a moment what she should reply. Here was the +very thing which she had longed and striven for, dropping like a ripe +plum into her mouth. A Countess--a Duchess--and the wife of a Lord! +She must secure the lot, but not for séances in her private room--for +exhibition at her public parties! + +“You are asking a great deal, Lady Loreley,” she replied, with a +pursed-up mouth, as though she were considering the possibility of +granting her request. “If it depended on myself, I should only be too +pleased to accede to your wishes, but, as I have already told you, my +husband would not approve of my sitting with ladies of whom I know, as +yet, so little.” + +“O! but you must know more of us, dear Marchesa,” cried Lady Loreley. +“You must come to my house and let me introduce you to my daughter and +my aunt! What day are you at liberty to dine with us? Would next +Thursday suit you? I have no engagement for that day! Then if you and +the Baron will give us the pleasure of your company at dinner, I will +have the Duchess and Lady John to meet you!” + +“I believe we are at liberty for Thursday,” replied Hannah, with her +air of _grande dame_, “but remember! Lady Loreley, the motive of your +visit must be kept a dead secret, if you ever wish to see it renewed.” + +“You may depend on my discretion, Marchesa!” replied the Countess, as +she grasped her hand; “I can never, never thank you sufficiently for +what you have done for me to-day, and I hope we shall be the most +excellent friends in the future!” + +So Lady Loreley took her leave, and that was the beginning of the +Marchesa di Sorrento counting dukes and duchesses amongst her visiting +acquaintances. + +Secretly, but surely, the news flew amongst the aristocratic crowd, +that this mysterious Marchesa, the nationality of whom no one could +determine, was the most wonderful woman on the face of the earth, and +many were the little private séances held by her in her boudoir, +unknown to all but the favoured few, whom she admitted there. + +As time went on and one lady asked to be allowed to bring her brother, +and another entreated that her husband might be initiated into the +occult mysteries of the Marchesa’s boudoir, gentlemen began to mingle +with the lady sitters, and the séances became more general and more +renowned. + +Meanwhile Karl von Steinberg knew nothing of what went on during his +absences from home, or that his wife ever sat for the amusement of the +grandees who commenced to throng her receptions. He often wondered +_where_ she had picked them up, or how contrived to induce them to +visit her, but he knew she was very clever, and admired her all the +more for each fresh proof she gave him of it. He was not blind, +however, to the kudos, which accrued to both of them, from the +presence of the nobility in his wife’s drawing-rooms, and he evinced +it by the frequency with which he showed himself there. He constantly +found the Marchesa the centre of an adoring group of ladies, and an +admiring crowd of men, and the fact bound him closer to her. We always +like others to approve of what we like ourselves--so long as they do +not go too far! + +There was one man, however--an Italian of the name of Gueglielmo, whom +Karl von Steinberg began to view with aversion. He used to take his +stand behind the Marchesa’s sofa, and remain there the entire evening, +whispering in her ear, or gazing at her face and figure. Once, Von +Steinberg spoke to his wife about the too evident admiration of Signor +Gueglielmo, and expressed his wish that she should discourage him a +little, by directing her attention to the other gentlemen of the +party. + +“Discourage Gueglielmo!” she exclaimed tartly, “and why? Because he is +the only one of my countrymen present! I shall do no such thing!” + +Von Steinberg regarded her with surprise! She was beginning to use the +same tone with him, that she had with his friend Ricardo. + +“Your countryman!” he repeated; “what absurdity are you thinking of? +Your being styled ‘Marchesa’ does not constitute you an Italian! He is +neither your countryman nor mine, and I will not have him so much +about the house. If you do not give him a hint on the subject, I +shall!” + +“Then you may do your dirty work yourself,” retorted Hannah. “I like +him and I shall not tell him otherwise. He is Italian! He soothes me!” + +“You will have to obey me all the same,” said the Baron, angrily. “If +ever I catch him leaning over your sofa again in the open fashion he +did last night, I’ll----” + +“Run me through with a dagger, I suppose!” interposed Hannah, with the +sudden, cunning, evil look in her eyes, which he could never +understand. + +“What made you say that?” he asked, quickly. + +She shrugged her shoulders, and commenced to whistle a popular air. + +Von Steinberg left the room in a rage. There were times--many +times--when he almost hated his wife! She had never shown any +disposition for flirting--it was not her proclivity--she was too heavy +and indolent and inert to take the trouble to lay herself out to +fascinate any man. He could not suspect her of it. And yet, had she +been the most desperate coquette in the world, she could not have been +more determined to have her own way about this man Gueglielmo. And the +look in her eyes, when she suggested he might stab her! whence did it +come? The idea perplexed him! Sometimes he wondered if Hannah were +always herself, or if evil spirits took possession of her and +controlled her expression and her words. + +When he met her next, at dinner, all trace of the unpleasant interview +they had held together, had passed away. Hannah was Hannah once +more--placid and obtuse as a well-fed cow grazing in a meadow, and +without a care or an ambition in the world. + +Before their meal was concluded, the footman brought a somewhat soiled +envelope to the Marchesa, on a silver tray. + +She took it up and looking at the address carelessly, inquired: “Who +brought this?” + +“A young man, my lady!--looks as if he came from the country,” was the +reply. + +Hannah opened the letter and read it, then said in a loud voice, + +“Tell this man I will not see him! I don’t know who he is! Send him +away.” + +“What is it, Hannah?” demanded Von Steinberg. She threw the envelope +across the table to him. + +“Only a begging petition! I receive them every day. It is no use +answering these sort of people!” + +The Baron glanced at the epistle, and frowned as he did so. + +“My dear, you cannot have read this,” he said, in a lowered voice, “it +is from Joseph Brushwood! He has bad news for you.” + +“And who is Joseph Brushwood?” she asked; “I never heard the name +before.” + +Von Steinberg ordered the servants in attendance to quit the room, +until he rang for them, and to detain the messenger downstairs. + +“Or stay!” he corrected himself, “put him in the library, and say I +will be with him presently!” + +“So the petition is for yourself, after all!” remarked his wife, as +they found themselves alone. + +“My dear Hannah! what are you talking about?” said the Baron. “You +_cannot_ have read this letter. It is signed Joseph Brushwood, and is +to say that he has some bad news about your mother, and wants to speak +to you by yourself!” + +“And I repeat, who _is_ Joseph Brushwood?” demanded Hannah, with +genuinely astonished eyes. + +“Why! surely you cannot have forgotten Joe Brushwood coming up to town +with your mother, when we were at Mrs. Battleby’s. Joe Brushwood, the +young man to whom you were engaged, before you married dear old +Ricardo! It is impossible that you can forget!” + +“And he wishes to see me privately?” continued the Marchesa, with +perfect calmness. + +“Yes! I am afraid you must be prepared for a shock, Hannah, for he +says he has come to town expressly to see you! Shall I accompany you?” + +“No! I prefer to see him by myself!” replied Hannah, as she rose +majestically from the table and proceeded to the library. + +There she encountered Joe Brushwood, who had cast her off in the days +gone-by, standing by the window and looking very sheepish. He was not +altered in the least--a trifle stouter, perhaps, and a trifle coarser, +but attired in his best velveteen coat and corduroy breeches, with a +gaily flowered waistcoat. He started violently as he caught sight of +Hannah. + +He had heard that she had married a rich gentleman, but he had had no +idea of encountering such magnificence as this. The Marchesa was +arrayed in her ordinary dinner-dress, but it looked like a robe of +state in the unsophisticated eyes of her former admirer. + +“And what is it that you may want of me?” she demanded, with her +grandest air, as she advanced upon the astonished Brushwood. + +“Lor! Hannah!” he exclaimed--but she quickly brought her foot down +upon such insolent familiarity. + +“Who are you? How _dare_ you address me in such terms? I am the +Marchesa di Sorrento! You will have the goodness to call me ‘my Lady’, +if you speak to me at all.” + +“O! yes! certainly. I’m sure I begs your pardon,” replied Joe, as he +nervously twisted his bowler hat round in his hands, “but I came up +from Settlefield a purpuss this mornin’, and I’ve been walking round +Lunnon for hours, trying to find out where you lived--” + +“And what has all this to do with me?” demanded Hannah. + +“O! I ain’t done yet!” continued the young man. “Your pore mother, +she’s werry bad indeed, and she wants to see you terrible! I don’t +know what’s the matter with her, but she’s going fast, the Doctor +says, and times ’ave been werry bad this season, and your father says +’e don’t know ’ow ’e’ll bury ’er, without some ’elp. And so--as we +’eard as you was married to a rich gentleman, we made so bold as to +come up--leastways _I_ did--to arsk if you could spare ’em a trifle, +and go down and see your pore mother afore she dies!” + +Hannah let the whole of this long-winded speech come to a finish, +before she collected her forces and answered it. + +“You have made a mistake, young man,” she said at last, “I know +nothing of Settlefield, or the people you are begging for. I am the +Marchesa di Sorrento! Some one must have put you on the wrong scent +for a joke! If your friends are in such want, you had better apply to +their parish for relief! I have my own poor people to look after, and +cannot afford to provide for strangers.” + +Joe Brushwood scratched his head, and opened his eyes wide. + +“But you was Hannah Stubbs--sure-_ly_!” he ejaculated, “as lived at +Settlefield and was my young woman! Everyone knows you down there, as +well as the village pump! And sure-ly, you won’t turn on your own +mother now she’s sick and dying and in want! A fiver would set ’em +right, but the times ’as been ’ard, and they’ve several mouths to +feed, and if you _are_ a Mar-cheesa you might ’ave ’uman feelings!” + +“You are an insolent impostor!” cried Hannah, indignantly. “How dare +you speak to me in that way? Your young woman, indeed! I should like +the Baron to hear you! I don’t believe one word of your trumped-up +story. I have no mother, nor father, and I never set eyes on you in my +life before! If you presume to worry me again I shall give you into +charge of the police.” + +“And you denies of them?” replied the young man, reproachfully. “I’m +not so surprised at your saying as you don’t know _me_, for I give you +a nasty slap in the face larst time we met--but to deny the mother as +bore you and she a’dying--and with hardly a rag to ’er back, or food +to eat--well! I wouldn’t ’ave your ’eart, for ever so! that I +wouldn’t!” + +The Marchesa only replied by ringing the bell and summoning her +footman. + +“Show this man out,” she said, “and take care that he is never +admitted again. He is an impostor, and he has insulted me.” + +“Come! along with you!” cried the servant, as he hustled Joe from the +room. “I’ll take good care you never shows your nose inside of our +’ouse again!” + +And so Joe Brushwood found himself upon the doorstep in shorter time +than it takes to write the words. + +The Marchesa joined her husband in the drawing-room, triumphant. + +“Well! what had he to say to you?” demanded the Baron, as she entered. + +“Nothing! It was all a hoax! No more Joseph Brushwood--whoever he may +be--than you are! A fellow with a begging letter, and who became so +insolent when I refused to give him money, that I was obliged to ring +for Watson to show him the door!” + +“You were quite right to refuse,” said the Baron, “I hate these +begging letter writers. But how could he have got hold of the name of +Joseph Brushwood?” + +“Invented it, most likely!” replied Hannah, as she commenced to read +the evening papers. + +“But, my dear, that was the name of the young man you were engaged +to,” began Karl von Steinberg. “Surely, you must remember!” + +“No! I don’t, and I don’t want to,” persisted his wife, “I never think +of that horrible time! It is past now! I wish nothing better than to +blot out the memory that it ever existed.” + +She returned to the perusal of her paper, and her husband, after +regarding her for a few moments as if she were some extraordinary +animal whom he could not possibly understand--left the room quietly, +and went to his club. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII. + +“Why did Hannah pretend to have forgotten the fact that she had ever +known Joseph Brushwood? What was her motive in refusing the prayer of +her dying mother, to see her once again? Had her unexpected rise in +life and position really made her oblivious of all that had gone +before, or had her heart grown callous to the sufferings of her +fellow-creatures?” + +These were the questions that puzzled the brain of Karl von Steinberg, +as he walked meditatively down to his club that night. + +He had read the smeared epistle that Brushwood had sent in to his +wife, from beginning to end. There was no mistaking its import. It +stated plainly, that Mrs. Stubbs was in the last stage of +disease--that the husband and children were in want--and that they +only asked a little help from their rich daughter, to enable them to +tide over the difficulty. + +Why had not Hannah sent them money for their need? She knew that she +had but to ask him, to obtain any reasonable sum for the purpose. + +Karl von Steinberg had an affectionate nature--rather weak indeed, but +gentle and kind-hearted. He could not bear to think that his wife had +been wilfully guilty of such negligence and indifference. When he +reached his club, he drew four five-pound banknotes from his purse, +and putting them into an envelope, addressed it to Mr. Stubbs, +Settlefield and wrote the pardonable fiction inside, “With Hannah’s +love.” + +The reception of this munificent gift made a great revolution of +feeling in the Stubbs’ family, whither Joe Brushwood had preceded it, +with an exaggerated account of his interview with Hannah. + +“I sent in my note, quite respectful,” he had told them on his return, +“and thought if I didn’t get a ’earty welcome, she’d at least talk +friendly-like about ’er people! But not a bit of it! In she sails in a +gownd like a peacock, trailing on the floor, and ‘What may be your +business with me, young man?’ she says, as proud as a cat with a tin +tail. ‘Lor! Hannah!’ I says, and she turns on me like a tiger, ‘Oo are +you a’speakin’ to?’ she says, ‘and you’ll please to say “my Lady” when +you opens your mouth in my presence?’ I did feel pretty well shut up, +I can tell you!” + +Mrs. Stubbs, who was sitting in an arm-chair, supported by pillows, +looked incredulous at this account. + +“Lor! Joe Brushwood,” she said, “it couldn’t never ’ave been our +Hannah! You must ’ave gone to the wrong ’ouse!” + +At this surmise, Joe himself turned pale. + +“O! that’s unpossible!” he exclaimed, “for ’twas Mrs. Battleby as give +me the address. Baron von Stumbug, 2000 Portland Place. I writ it down +in my pocket book. And I arsked for Lady von Stumbug, and the feller +as answered the door, understood me quite well. Sich a grand ’ouse, +Mrs. Stubbs, as you never see--all marble and picters and +statties,--and Hannah in a yaller satin gownd, with black lace like +cobwebs over it, and ’er ’air--well! you did ought to ’ave seen ’er +’air--’twas a transformation scene and no mistake!” + +“I don’t care nothing about ’er ’air,” replied Mrs. Stubbs, “but I +can’t never believe as our Hannah, as was so meek and simple-like, +would denige ’er own father and mother! You must ’ave mistook ’er +words! I allers said as father ought to ’ave gone, instead of you.” + +“I didn’t mistake nothing,” said Joe, doggedly, “she’s just as cold +and ’eartless as they’re made, and I’m werry glad as she never was my +missus. She stood there, a’glaring at me, and she says, ‘I ain’t got +no father nor mother,’ she says, ‘and you’re a himpostor,’ and she +just rings the bell and orders the feller in green to put me out of +the ’ouse, and mind I never enters it again. That’s your Hannah, and +that’s gospel truth!” + +“I can’t never believe it!” repeated poor Mrs. Stubbs, “she was allays +so humble, was our Hannah! I take blame to myself as I ever left ’er +at Mrs. Battleby’s, pore gal, and with all them devils about ’er too. +I did ought to ’ave brought ’er ’ome, and exercised them out of ’er! +But to speak in that rumptious manner! No! I can’t never believe it! +She was sich a simple one, was our Hannah--allays ready to cry if +spoke to, almost a natural as you may say, but never ’aughty or proud. +You went to the wrong ’ouse, Joe Brushwood! I’ll maintain it to the +last day of my life, which it won’t be long!” she added, with a sigh. + +“O! well! Missus,” exclaimed Joe, rather nettled, “I ’opes as Mr. +Stubbs will do ’is own work another time, for ’twasn’t a pleasant job, +I can tell ye. To ’ave to encounter a young ’ooman as you’ve rejected +in marriage, and ’ear all the nasty things she may choose to say to +you, ain’t all jam, I’d rather meet the old gentleman myself any day.” + +“Well! you could ’ardly expect ’er to shake you by the ’and, and she a +markiness and a baroness both in one, Joe Brushwood! You was a fool to +reject ’er, that you was, and to lose the chance of being a baron +yourself! Of course I know as ’er position and fortune ’ave set ’er +above us, but I’ll never believe but what my Hannah--as was so good +’earted and simple, though a bit slow--Lord! ’ow my arms ’ave ached +trying to shake that gal up!--remembers ’er pore father and mother, +who never fell out with ’er, until she took up with the Devil and hall +’is imps!” + +Joe Brushwood had left the cottage, grumbling at their incredulity and +ingratitude, but the next day made him regret he had said so much. The +postman brought Stubbs that wonderful letter, enclosing twenty pounds, +with Hannah’s love. The poor mother, who was really in the last stage +of an internal disease, against which she had borne up bravely, until +no longer able to stand, wept tears of thankfulness over her +daughter’s generosity, and quite forgot that she had been so sure that +Joe had gone to the wrong house. + +That young man was so beset with reproaches, when he next showed his +face in their midst, that he fled incontinently from the cottage, and +left the Stubbs’ family to manage their own affairs for the future. +And they--relieved from present necessity--sat down quite contented +with spending their twenty pounds and talking of their daughter, the +markiness, to any neighbour who might chance to look in. + +Meanwhile, the Baron, puzzled and grieved as the days went on, to see +no sign of repentance in Hannah, for the cruel part she had played +with regard to her family, began to frequent his club more often than +before. His wife had not yet quite lost her old fascination for +him--it was misery to him to believe her cold-hearted and unfilial. + +He never asked her to sit with him now--had almost given up talking of +Spiritualism before her. Slight suspicions had crept into his mind of +late, that the office of mediumship had not improved Hannah, in mind +or manners--that she was more defiant and bold, and less grateful and +submissive, than she used to be. Success in life could not alone have +had the power to change her character thus, and he hoped by keeping +her quiet and free from all these trances and controls, to see her one +day return to the amiable and child-like disposition she had enjoyed. + +His longing to see his old friend Ricardo was very keen, and if he +could have found another medium through whom to communicate with him, +he would have gladly availed himself of the opportunity. But he was +unable to do so, and he would not urge Hannah to sit for him. +Sometimes the longing was very great--sometimes he felt sure that +Ricardo shared his anxiety and wished to speak to him. + +More than once, as his wife slumbered by his side, he had fancied he +heard a faint, gasping whisper on the air, in the tones of his old +friend. But it had never culminated beyond that, and Hannah’s +objection to holding a séance with him was so palpably expressed, +that he did not care to urge her to do that which was unpalatable to +her. + +Indeed, at this time, her arguments against the practice of +Spiritualism both in public and private, were so severe, that Von +Steinberg honestly believed she had come to look upon it as something +unlawful and forbidden. But his eyes were to be opened, and in a +manner he little suspected. + +On a certain afternoon, in summer, he was seated at his club in one of +those deep arm-chairs with a high back, which, when turned from the +company, entirely conceal their occupant. The day was warm, and the +Baron had lunched and felt sleepy. He wheeled his chair into a corner +of the club room, and turning its back to the centre of the apartment, +prepared to indulge in a snooze. Men entered and left--the buzz of +voices went on around him, but still he dozed--half awake and half +asleep--too lazy to shake himself into complete consciousness. + +By and by his first irresistible desire to slumber wore off, and he +sat there, listening to what went on around him. Whilst in this +condition he heard two men conversing together a few paces off, and +soon recognised one voice as that of Major Maitland, who was a +frequent visitor in Portland Place. + +“I cannot understand what they see in her--a beastly, fat woman,” he +was saying, “and as vulgar as she can be! But she has got up this new +fad of Spiritualism, and the women are all crazy about it--my wife +amongst the rest. She professes to bring back their lovers and +children and fathers and mothers, and there they all are, weeping and +snivelling together, and swearing she is the grandest medium under the +sun, and the most marvellous woman they have ever seen. + +“I believe it is all humbug! She dresses up her housemaids and footmen +to represent the dear departeds, and women are such hysterical +creatures, they will declare they see anything which you may tell them +is there! I have forbidden Mrs. Maitland visiting her, but it is of no +use! I don’t really know what has come to the women nowadays! They +treat us, as if we were nobody! She’s off this very afternoon to some +big séance that this Marchesa is giving!” + +“But who _is_ she?” demanded the other speaker, “Marchesa--of what?” + +“The Lord knows! _I_ don’t! She calls herself Marchesa di Sorrento, +but who Sorrento was, she knows best. She is the wife--or is supposed +to be--of a German, the Baron von Steinberg, who is really a very +decent fellow, for a German--and he seems to let her do just as she +likes! Finds it’s of no use speaking to her, I suppose, poor devil! +Where he picked her up I can’t think! If you could only see her, +Durant! She looks exactly like a cookmaid. A great, red, flat face +with a turned-up nose, and a wide mouth! No more a lady than you are, +but she is the women’s new plaything, and they howl if you try to take +her from them.” + +“It is all very strange,” said Durant, “are you going to the séance +this afternoon?” + +“No! I’m black-balled, because I struck a match the last time I was +there! I’m rather sorry. It was good fun, and really the most curious +things happen. I’ve seen an old man appear there, looking just like +one of Velasquez’s portraits--with a pointed Venetian beard, and +grizzled hair--not a bit like an Englishman--and, each time, he has +asked for Von Steinberg--that’s the husband, you know--but I suppose +my lady doesn’t let him hear of her little pranks, for I have never +met him there!” + +“Then I suppose you _do_ believe something of this black art, +Maitland. An Italian out of an old picture could hardly be +impersonated by a footman, or a housemaid!” observed his companion. + +“My dear fellow! to tell you the honest truth, I don’t know _what_ to +believe! There may be something in it and there may not! All I know +is, that women have grown so deuced clever in these days, that I think +they are capable of anything--especially of deceit!” + +Karl von Steinberg thought the same, as he lay back in his arm-chair, +and listened to this conversation. Another man might have sprung up in +a rage, and challenged the two gossips to prove what they asserted, +but his was a phlegmatic temperament, which thought more than it said, +and did more than it threatened. The day was over, when either Major +Maitland or his wife would gain admittance to the house in Portland +Place, but he did not tell them so. + +On the contrary, he waited patiently until the two friends had +adjourned to the billiard room, before he left his hiding-place, and +hailing a cab, drove to his home. + +His reflections on the way were not pleasant ones. Hannah, then, had +deceived him! Whilst she had been denouncing Spiritualism, and +declaring it was sinful and she would never have anything more to do +with it, she had been giving séances to strangers, which she denied +to himself. + +He had no idea why this should be so, but he determined it should be +so no more. He would demand to participate in that which she showered +lavishly upon her acquaintances. Before he reached his house, he had +determined on his action. + +The séance would have commenced, doubtless, and the boudoir door +would be locked. But he had a second key to the bedroom, which opened +from the boudoir, and he could let himself into the house with his +latchkey, without anyone being the wiser for it. + +He used the greatest caution as he did so, and crept upstairs without +meeting anyone on the way. As he entered the bedroom and turned the +key behind him, he heard that the séance in the next apartment, which +was in total darkness, had already commenced. + +Murmurings of low voices--sundry questions from the sitters--and +occasionally a half-stifled sob--told him that his anticipations were +correct. + +Cautiously approaching the intervening door, which was ajar, Von +Steinberg joined the circle, without his entrance being perceived by +any one. One lady asked another if she had moved from her seat, and +being answered in the negative, declared that the spirits must be +walking about the room, but no further notice was taken of his +arrival. He stood aloof from the company, and observed all that was +taking place. + +Hannah had evidently had regular preparations made for this assembly, +for a proper cabinet was erected in one corner, and the windows were +covered with some black material to exclude every ray of light. + +“How unkind to take all this trouble for mere strangers, and to refuse +my making one of the party,” thought Karl von Steinberg, sadly, as he +stood quietly in his corner. “How could my seeing dear old Ricardo +again, do her any harm? If _she_ did not love him, she knows that _I_ +did! This is the worst proof that Hannah has ever given me, of her +ingratitude for all I have done for her.” + +But though his meditations were gloomy, the Baron was yet alive to all +that was passing before him. He saw Lady Loreley’s little daughter +appear between the velvet curtains that formed the cabinet, and heard +her mother’s grateful thanks for having been accorded such a +privilege--he watched Mrs. Maitland embrace the apparition of her +brother, who had been lost at sea, and heard her comment on the fact +that she could recognise the very clothes he wore. + +Hannah’s powers had evidently not decreased from want of practice. +What a wonderful, marvellous medium she was! All his old astonishment +at her powers--and all his old enthusiasm for the occult Sciences, +came back to Von Steinberg, as he stood and watched and listened. + +There appeared to be no end to the forms that peeped from between the +cabinet curtains, or advanced, more bravely, into the centre of the +room. Young men and young women--little children and hoary-headed +fathers and mothers--even a negro boy, whom the sitters addressed by +the name of Cicero, came, grinning from ear to ear, before them. What +a gift she possessed! What a power to set her above the ordinary run +of women! In that moment, Karl von Steinberg felt proud again to +remember that she was his--that no one could take her from him--that +Hannah was his wife, and his medium for ever more. + +Presently his attention was arrested by a murmur amongst the sitters. +A luminous mist appeared at the entrance of the cabinet, and some one +whispered, “It is the old man again!” + +Karl von Steinberg stretched his neck forward and strained his eyes to +see the visitant from the other world. It was undoubtedly the form and +face of Ricardo--his familiar features, shrunken and yellow, as they +looked in death, appeared before him. Von Steinberg gave a start of +surprise--an exclamation of pleasure--and went up to the curtains. + +“Ricardo! Ricardo! my dear old friend,” he exclaimed, “how +delighted--how thankful--I am to see you again!” + +“Can you see me? Do you recognise me? Am I like myself?” demanded the +apparition. + +“Just like! Exactly as I saw you last, dear old fellow!” replied the +Baron, warmly. “I have longed to see you again--to hear if you +entirely approve of what I have done, since you left us!” + +The form held the curtains apart and beckoned to the Baron to +accompany it inside the cabinet. + +“Do you wish me to go inside there with you?” exclaimed Von Steinberg. +“Why, of course I will, dear friend! I consider it an honour that you +should ask me.” + +He passed within the velvet curtains as he spoke, and the sitters +questioned each other who he was, and how he had got in there. + +“I never saw him when we entered the room,” said one lady to another, +“I wonder if the Marchesa knows he is here!” + +“O! she must! He would not have presumed to come without an +invitation. I just caught a glimpse of his features as he entered the +cabinet, by the old man’s spirit light, and I fancied he was very much +like the Baron himself!” + +“But I thought the Baron never came to the Marchesa’s séances. Does +she not say that he disapproves of Spiritualism?” + +“Well! I would not be sure--I may be mistaken--but he is a man of much +the same build. Why! there is Cicero! But where can the gentleman be? +I hope the spirits have not carried him away!” + +They proceeded to amuse themselves with Cicero, who was one of those +influences who seem sent on this earth simply to prove that they can +come, and whilst they were pulling his woolly hair, and putting their +fingers into his mouth, to see if he had any teeth, a hollow groan +from the cabinet was succeeded by the sudden reappearance of the +unknown gentleman, who, passing rapidly through their midst, vanished +into the bedroom, and let himself out by the further door. His +unaccountable exit left a sort of gloom and distrust behind it, which +seemed to have a discouraging effect upon the spirits, for none else +appeared that afternoon. + +The sitters after waiting for half an hour in silence, resolved that +they had better separate, and rising, created a little disturbance, +which served to bring the medium to herself. She gave three or four +extensive yawns--opened her eyes--closed them again--and finally, +leaving her seat, walked out into the assembly, and asked, + +“Well! have you had a good séance?” + +Everybody was vehement in their assertions that nothing could have +been more successful or delightful, until Lady Loreley said, + +“Except for one poor gentleman, whom the spirits took into the +cabinet, and what they said to him there we do not know, but as soon +as he emerged again, he left the room, and has not returned since.” + +“But _what_ gentleman?” asked the Marchesa, “I think all whom I +invited are present!” + +“We do not know! None of us have seen him before! It was dark when he +joined the circle, or I should have said he was the Baron. He was very +like him in shape and build!” + +“And which Spirit took him into the cabinet?” demanded Hannah, +breathlessly. + +“O! the old man who has come so often, and asked for the Baron! We +have told you about him, dear Marchesa! An old man with grey hair, and +piercing eyes, and a pointed beard like Vandyke’s. A nice face, he +has, but very attenuated. He reminds me of that figure in Madame +Tussaud’s, of some old man who was starved to death in the Bastille!” + +“But what does he say?” said the Marchesa, who seemed strangely +agitated. + +“O! he has never said anything until this afternoon--only looked round +the circle as if in search of somebody, and called ‘Karl’ once or +twice.” + +“Is the Baron’s name, ‘Karl’, Marchesa? Anyway, the gentleman who +joined our circle in the dark to-day, was evidently the person the +Spirit was in search of, for directly he appeared, he beckoned to him +to approach the cabinet. The stranger called the Spirit, ‘Ricardo’--I +heard him more than once--and said how glad he was to meet him again, +and then the old man drew him into the cabinet and they were talking +there for more than ten minutes. Not entirely on pleasant subjects +either, I imagine, for we heard the gentleman groan several times, and +as soon as he emerged, he went straight through your bedroom, and we +have not seen him since. Could it have been the Baron, do you think, +Marchesa?” + +But the Marchesa stood before her, trembling. + +“Yes! yes! no doubt,” she contrived at last to utter; “who else could +have passed through my bedroom? The Baron has a private key to my +apartments. What a fool I was not to think of it!” she added to +herself. + +“And was ‘Ricardo’ an old friend of yours?” persisted the lady. + +“He was a great friend of the Baron’s,” replied her hostess, whilst a +pallid hue stole over her features; “they often talk together! I am +surprised to hear that my husband seemed nervous! He is too well used +to spiritualism for that, though, as a rule, he does not approve of +it. What could Ricardo have said to him, to overcome him as you say?” + +“Ah! that we cannot tell you, dear Marchesa, but if you had heard him +groan! I only hope it was not the Baron. But you look quite +tired--much more wearied than usual, so perhaps we had better leave +you to rest! Good-bye! Such a delightful afternoon!” + +_Such a delightful afternoon!_ It looked like it, as Hannah stood in +her bedroom free and alone, and reviewed the events of the day. +Ricardo and Von Steinberg had met again at last. Notwithstanding her +caution and her secrecy, they had met, face to face, and conversed +with one another. What had they said?--what revealed?--what had her +husband heard about her Past or Present? She stood there, sick with +apprehension, until she heard a footstep approach her door, and felt +that her hour had come. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX. + +When Karl von Steinberg rushed from the séance room, it was with +the intention of seeking the open air. He felt as if he should be +stifled in the atmosphere of his wife’s boudoir--as if he could not +breathe in that dark and airless chamber, so fraught with treachery, +deceit, and crime. + +He wanted to get out under God’s pure Heaven, to walk miles and miles +into the open country, and never go back to Portland Place again. But +when he reached the hall door, he encountered a long line of +carriages, drawn up in waiting for the aristocratic sitters, and he +feared lest the traces of what he was undergoing might be visible on +his features, and that he should betray himself before their servants. +So he turned back and sought his private sitting-room instead, and sat +down there, with his head buried in his hands, and tried to think. + +What was this horrible thing that he had listened to?--could it +possibly be true? or had he been made the sport of some devil, who had +assumed the shape and features of his dear old friend? + +But this idea, worthy only of such as have no knowledge of +Spiritualism, was soon routed from his mind by reason. He _knew_ that +it was Ricardo himself, who had spoken to him--Ricardo, with his +delicate aquiline features--his piercing eyes, overshadowed by bushy +brows--his sensitive mouth, and pointed beard and moustaches. + +If a devil could assume his every attribute in the séance chamber, +then Von Steinberg might well doubt if the next acquaintance he met in +the street were truly himself, or a devil in his guise. + +This apparition of his best friend had come again and again (as he had +heard on the testimony of strangers), and called his name, that he +might confide to him the awful story which was stirring his being to +its depths. He had told it to him--not for his own sake, the wrong was +over, for him--but lest Von Steinberg should fall into the same net in +which he had been caught. But could it--could it--_could it be true?_ + +Von Steinberg glanced round at the evidences of luxury which +surrounded him--the soft Persian carpet--the carved furniture--the +valuable paintings--the Venetian glass--and wondered what _more_ he +could have bestowed upon this woman, whom he first thought of +befriending for Ricardo’s sake--Ricardo, who she had sent into +Eternity! + +It was not so much the horror of his friend’s death that oppressed +him--those who are convinced that the dead still live, come to look +very calmly on the separation, which more ignorant mortals regard with +fear--but the contemplated horror of living on with the woman who had +betrayed him! _That_ he felt to be impossible! + +He could never again take Hannah in his arms and call her “wife”, +whilst the spirit of Ricardo stood between them and hurled another +name at her. What should he do? What was to be his next step? How were +matters to be arranged for the future? He wished at that moment that +he were a medium himself, and had the power to call back the spirit of +Ricardo, and ask his advice about it all. + +After he had brooded over the terrible affair for some time, Von +Steinberg began to question whether, after all, he might not be +mistaken, or that Ricardo might have been so! He knew that spirits on +their first appearance after death, were often confused and but half +conscious--could not remember names or dates--nor recognise those to +whom they had been dear! But yet he had never heard of anyone making +a mistake on so important a subject as this. + +Then, for his own doubts concerning it. He threw his thoughts back to +that time, just before Ricardo’s death, when Hannah had begun to +coquet with him, and he had been foolish and dishonourable enough to +meet her advances half-way--to the quarrels she had with her +husband--to Ricardo’s assurance to him that she made his life a hell, +and he could stand it no longer--to his hints about taking his +life--to his (Von Steinberg’s) cautions to Hannah on the same +subject--and then, to his friend’s sudden demise, to that awful night +when he was called to the Cottage and found the Professor, dead--by +his own hand as he then fully thought--and the subsequent decision he +had arrived at, partly because he believed it to be a duty on his +part. + +But now, in a moment, the truth seemed to flash upon him, and he +wondered that he had been so blind as not to see it from the +beginning. Hannah had been discontented and repining from the time he +had come into his uncle’s property--she had coveted it--his own folly +had encouraged her to think she could gain it--Ricardo was the +obstacle, and so----Von Steinberg groaned within himself as he thought +these things, and that his dearest friend had paid the forfeit of his +own good fortune. + +But it must be put an end to at once--his suspicions must be allayed, +or turned into certainties--he would not sleep one night under the +same roof as Ricardo’s murderess--there must be a separation between +them, now and for ever. + +The house was again quiet, the guests had all departed, and Von +Steinberg took his way up to his wife’s room. He thought that Hannah +knew nothing of what had occurred, so he resolved not to be too +violent, but to extract the truth from her by degrees. He found her +standing by the side of her sumptuous bed, with its hangings of rich +brocade, looking rather white and weary, but with a sparkle of +determination in her eye, as if she guessed what was coming and had +her weapons ready. Von Steinberg for his part appeared completely +crushed--the revelation of the last hour had knocked all his manhood +out of him. + +“Well!” began Hannah, abruptly, “and what may you want here?” + +“I have come expressly to see you, Hannah! I wish to speak to you! Why +did you not tell me that you were giving these séances?” + +“Because I do not acknowledge that it is any business of yours,” she +answered carelessly, “they are my own concern altogether!” + +“Perhaps! but as I have asked you frequently to give me a sitting, and +you have systematically refused, it is strange that you should leave +me to hear that you are constantly holding these meetings, from a +stranger at my club.” + +“Yes?” said Hannah, nonchalantly. + +“Yes! and I know the reason of your reticence now, into the bargain,” +replied the Baron angrily. “Are you aware _who_ came back through you +this afternoon, and held converse with me?--_who_ told the story of +his death and why he had left this world so suddenly--_who_ has asked +for me again and again, in order to tell me the truth, but whom you +have kept away because you were afraid of what revelations he might +make?” + +“Not in the least,” said Hannah, insolently, though her face had +become very fixed during her husband’s questions. + +“You are lying to me--you _do!_” exclaimed the Baron, “I should have +gone on for the rest of my life, poor fool that I am! fancying that +you had come to regard the practice of Spiritualism as wrong and +harmful, and refraining from asking you to act contrary to your +principles, had it not been for the idle tongues of two men in the +club this afternoon, who were discussing these séances of yours +without knowing that I was within hearing. Though I could hardly +believe my ears, I returned home to find they were correct in what +they had said--and when I joined your circle, Ricardo came back to +me--Ricardo, your late husband and my dearest friend--Ricardo, whom +you----” + +“Be careful what you say,” interposed his wife, “if you make +accusations against me, which you have no means of proving, I will +have satisfaction from you in a court of law. Professor Ricardo died +from the effects of poison, administered by his own hand--that was the +certificate of death I believe, written by yourself. What will people +say, if you deny it now?” + +The Baron was staggered by her coolness and perspicuity! It was true; +he had no proofs to bring forward of his assertion. + +“I would believe the word of my dead friend before the evidence of my +own senses,” he replied, less vehemently. “Ricardo was too good to you +during his lifetime to bring a false and unnecessary accusation +against you now! I may never be able to prove it, but I am as +convinced of the truth as if I had seen it done, and I will never live +with you again--so help me God!” + +Still Hannah was perfectly unmoved. + +“That is of little consequence to me,” she answered; “so long as you +make me a suitable allowance. But you will be forced to do that! I +will not consent to a separation, unless it is legally settled by +law!” + +Karl von Steinberg gazed at her in silent amazement. Was she +bewitched? + +“What has come to you in the last few months?” he said, “you are not +the same woman that you used to be!” + +“How do you know what sort of woman I used to be?” she asked him, +quickly. + +“I mean, when we first met you--poor Ricardo and I--at Mrs. +Battleby’s. You were modest and humble then--shy and retiring--you +were an amiable, good-humoured girl, only anxious to please and +oblige! Now--my God! what a difference!--I should never have known you +for Hannah Stubbs!” + +“Who is Hannah Stubbs?” demanded the Marchesa. + +“Enough of this folly,” exclaimed Von Steinberg, angrily, “don’t +pretend to misunderstand me! You have altered in every respect! I have +raised you to a position above that to which you were born, and your +head has been unable to stand the elevation. You have become vain, +haughty, arrogant, and insolent! Yet I could have borne all that and +only cursed my own folly for it, but this crime--no! no! I can never +live under the same roof with you again. We part to-night!” + +“That is as you please!” cried the Marchesa, shrilly, “it will leave +me freer and more independent! I shall have more opportunities of +seeing Signor Gueglielmo, and my other friends!” + +“No! by my faith you won’t!” exclaimed the Baron. “If the man ever +enters this house after I am gone, I will drag you and him into the +Divorce Court, and let my misery end there!” + +“That is to be seen,” remarked the Marchesa. + +“You defy me!” cried Von Steinberg, “_you_--who murdered my best +friend! Yes! we need not mince words here, Madame la Marchesa, the +time is past for that! Ricardo told me all--how you purchased the +arsenic (which I was fool enough to believe the poor fellow had +procured himself)--at the Hampstead chemist’s, under the pretence you +wanted it for vermin--and how you mixed it with the whiskey and water +which you persuaded him to drink because you said _I_ had ordered it! +You think you are so secure that you can defy and insult me! What if I +looked up that chemist and examined his books, and proved the date you +bought the poison from him to be that of your husband’s death? What +then, Madame la Marchesa?” + +He had sprung forward as he spoke, and approached her so nearly that +the woman felt alarmed, but still her native insolence upheld her. + +“What then?” she echoed. “Why! I would force you to declare that you +gained your information through Spiritualism, and make you the +laughing-stock of London. How would Spiritualistic detectives accord +with the English law, Baron von Steinberg, eh?” + +“But you would leave the Court with an indelible stain upon your +character, and where would your friends be then?” + +“I should go to Signor Gueglielmo, and in his beautiful Italy I should +soon forget that I had ever inhabited such a cold, gloomy, unsociable +country as this!” + +“Signor Gueglielmo! You acknowledge he is your lover then?” + +“_One_ of them!” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. + +“Good Heavens! That I should have lived to hear you accuse yourself of +such baseness! Are you a woman, or a devil? Are you yourself, Hannah, +or does some evil spirit possess you, and obscure the humble virtues +you once had?” + +“Do you think women are all fools?” she retorted, turning on him +fiercely, “are you men to take your pleasures as you will, and we to +be debarred from any? Why should I not have lovers. I am young and +beautiful.” + +In saying these words, the Marchesa assumed such a coquettish air, +that solemn though the occasion was, Von Steinberg almost laughed. + +“And the men admire me! Is all my youth to be wasted in prudery and +pretending I do not enjoy that which is the breath of my life--the +admiration of the other sex? O! you needn’t glare at me like that! You +need not attempt to strike me! I am well provided against your +assaults! And you are not the only one who has suffered through my +being _femme galante!_ Sorrento writhed under the knowledge more than +you do, and he tried to avenge himself on me, but you see it was +useless! He believed me to be a model of all the virtues, to the day +of his death--perhaps even now he does the same. But you men are all +alike. Fools where you should be wise, and blind where you ought to +see! Sorrento smiled when he should have been weeping, and struck when +there was no cause. Do you remember the story of Centi?” + +“The man for whose sake Leonora deceived poor Ricardo! Yes! I see now, +he was right! You women are all alike! Born to lie and to deceive +those who trust in you! He did well to send her out of a world which +she disgraced.” + +At this assertion, Hannah laughed jeeringly. + +“O! she was none the worse for it, you may depend! When earthly lives +are cut shorter than the Creator intended, either by our own hands, or +those of others, they are not ended, though mortals may think so! We +all live on this earth just as long as was originally meant for +us--neither more nor less--in the flesh or out of it--but still +here,--sometimes for our own punishment, sometimes for that of others, +but still here,--_here_--where you and I stand to-day. Don’t waste +your pity on Leonora, for she does not need it!” + +“You defend her action--doubtless you sympathise with her crime,” said +the Baron, sarcastically. “Perhaps you would wish to copy her example, +that is, if you have not already done so!” + +“You are right,” replied the Marchesa, “I sympathise with her deeply. +She was young and beautiful and admired, and she loved life, and she +hadn’t fair play. You think with me, surely, that Sorrento did her a +grievous and irreparable wrong, in sending her so abruptly and cruelly +from a world she loved!” + +“I do not! I think that she was rightly served for her infidelity, and +that she paid too little for her crimes. Her husband only took his +just revenge. Such women are better out of the world than in it!” + +“So that is your opinion,” said the Marchesa, looking him straight in +the eyes, “what then of the way he met his own death? Was _that_ not a +just revenge also? a righteous retribution for the way he treated +Leonora? Was I not justified (who met my death at his hands) in +sending him also into another world, when it suited my convenience, +and he interfered with my plans?” + +“You--_you?_” stammered the Baron, falling back a pace or two. A light +broke in upon him--a light which seemed to make both the Past and +Present clear--which absolved the innocent and condemned the guilty. + +“You are _not_ Hannah Stubbs!” he exclaimed vehemently, as he sprang +towards her, “I see it all now! You are a devil in human form, who has +been traducing by your actions, one of the most simple and humble of +God’s creatures! You are not _Hannah Stubbs_--it is but her carcase +that you inhabit! You are Leonora d’Asissi! the false wife of the +Marchese di Sorrento!” + +The face of the Marchesa seemed to change to that of a fiend as he +thus accused her--she drew herself up to her full height--her eyes +blazed fury--her arm was raised as if to strike. But she braved the +accusation out, returning it in full force upon herself. + +“Go on! go on!” she cried, “you cannot say too much, nor yet enough to +harm me! I am all you say, Leonora d’Asissi, the false wife of your +dear friend--false to him, not with Centi only, but with everyone who +caught my wandering fancy. He believed every word I chose to tell him, +poor craven fool! who had the courage to avenge his wrongs, but not to +rest satisfied with his victory. + +“Yes! I am Leonora d’Asissi, in the ugly, uncouth form of Hannah +Stubbs, but I have made her mine, and I will use her to the end--until +it pleases me to give her up of my own free will! You may claim this +rough body if you choose, but you must take my spirit with it. I will +possess it and animate it with my words and graces, and make it copy +my faults, and hate as I hated and love as I loved, until it ceases to +exist. Have I not shown my power over it already? Who but _I_ prompted +her to poison Sorrento? to coquette with Gueglielmo? to defy you? to +trick? to lie? to deceive? Who but I--I--I? and I will continue to +make her follow my will, until she ceases to breathe!” + +“You shall not! I defy you in my turn,” exclaimed Von Steinberg, “this +country girl, uncouth and plain as she may be, is worth a thousand +such as you, with all your wit and beauty, and devilish fascinations. +She is my wife--I have promised to defend and protect her, and I will +drive your hateful spirit from her body, if I have to set hers free, +in order to accomplish it? By what right do you cling to a creature, +who is so much your superior? In the name of the Holy Trinity, I +command you to depart!” + +Leonora laughed scornfully. + +“And who gave me possession but yourself--you, and your dear friend +Ricardo? How could I have obtained such powerful hold of her if you +had not used this girl as an instrument to satisfy your curiosity +concerning the mysteries of Spiritualism?--if you had not made her +sit, night after night, to minister to your pleasure, until her brain +and body were both so wearied, that it was an easy matter for me, or +any other who had chosen, to oust her spirit and take its place. I +obtained first possession and have kept it ever since.” + +“But to what end? What pleasure could it give you, wretched woman, to +add to your list of crimes, all of which you will have to expiate, +when you might have been advancing in grace and penitence? What object +had you in controlling this unfortunate child, who had never done you +a wrong, and making her odious by the execution of your unholy +wishes?” + +“Because I am no longer able to commit crimes for myself--because the +execution gives me a reflected satisfaction--because, above all, my +thirst for revenge was ungratified, and I longed to make Sorrento feel +the same misery he had inflicted upon me! That is why I returned, not +to earth, for I have never left it, but to a human body, and if you +wish to know who helped me to it, it was _yourself_. Now! do you +understand?” + +“Yes! but, by God, you shall persecute my poor wife no longer!” +exclaimed Von Steinberg. “She is stupid and ignorant, but she shall +not suffer for your crimes. I suspected her of murdering Ricardo--he +thinks so even himself--but I will clear her from the imputation. You +shall inhabit her body no more, from this time henceforward! It is +uncouth, as you said, but it is too pure for such as you. Depart at +once, I command you, and come here no more!” + +“Command away!” cried Leonora, “it would take more than you to turn me +out of my lodging-house! I have got too firm a hold upon your pure and +unsophisticated wife! She didn’t seem so very pure, whilst she was +holding her secret assignations, unknown to you, with Gueglielmo, did +she? nor so unsophisticated when she gave séances to attract the +aristocracy to her house, and bound them to secrecy because _you_ so +highly disapproved of such doings. She is a lovely tool, but I wish +myself that she were a little more refined. It is so difficult to +train her large, flat tongue to lisp the soft Italian syllables, or to +play the coquette with those enormous hands of hers and those +splay-feet. I have almost made myself a laughing stock sometimes, by +forgetting they were not my own, and putting them forth for public +admiration. + +“But still she is useful, poor Hannah--very useful at times--and I +have not the least intention of parting with her--not, at all events, +my friend, until you desert her for another woman! Are you not +surprised to hear me talk English so well? I learned most of that from +you, when you used to come to the Cottage at Hampstead to give me +lessons in etiquette, and sometimes in something else, eh, Baron? I +don’t think your very dear friend Ricardo would have trusted you alone +with his adored Leonora, had he known what a dangerous man you were!” + +Karl von Steinberg was almost frothing at the mouth with rage that he +knew no fit means of expressing. He felt like those unfortunates of +whom we have read, who were tied hand and foot, whilst those they +loved best were tortured before their eyes, and they had no power to +redress their wrongs. He longed to shake Leonora out of Hannah’s body, +but what force could he use against air? He covered his face with his +hands and gave vent to a groan, which seemed to rend his +heart-strings. The vicious Spirit reviled his discomfiture with a +mocking laugh of confidence. + +“That’s right! Groan away! That’s what all you mortals do, when you +have committed the error and there is no remedy for it! Why didn’t you +think of the consequences, when you made Hannah sit for you and the +Professor, till she lost her spirits and her strength and her power to +resist? And now you have had enough of me, and would like to send me +flying! But you won’t! I’m in the body of your lawful wife, and if you +don’t choose to live with me, you must make me a suitable allowance. I +shan’t weep, I assure you. I shall much prefer it to your company! Bad +taste in me, is it not? but the truth all the same!” + +“Allowance! I would give my whole fortune to ensure this poor child +being set free from your evil influence. My God! the injury I have +done her! How can I know the extent of it, or if it will ever cease? +Poor ignorant Hannah! Heaven forgive us for bringing you within the +toils of such a devil as this!” + +Leonora flaunted by him, and essayed to pass through the open door. +But Von Steinberg prevented her. “No! by Heaven!” he cried, “if you +will not quit her body, I can at least prevent your dishonouring it! +If you _will_ stay, you must, but you will remain a prisoner in one +room, and no eye shall witness your infamy and my disgrace.” + +He put forth his hand to detain her, but she rushed past him, to the +landing. + + + + + CHAPTER XX. + +The landing upon which their sleeping chamber opened, was a spacious +platform, covered with a carpet of the softest dyes. It held a couple +of settees--a towering palm in a majolica vase--a bronze statue, +bearing a lamp--and a stand of flowering plants. Full, rich curtains +drawn at the head of the staircase, partially concealed it from the +public view, beyond which the marble stairs, supported by carved oak +banisters, led down to the hall. It was a nook, fitted to form a +boudoir in the warm weather, and was always heated in winter, like the +rest of the house, by hot water pipes. + +As the Marchesa rushed out upon this landing, the Baron, unable to +deter her action, followed as quickly as he could. He was fearful of +what she might do, or say. In her state of excitement, which bordered +on insanity, she might inform the entire household that she was not +the woman she appeared to be, and make them think she was a lunatic. + +It was with the best intentions, therefore, that he pursued her. + +“Leonora! Leonora!” he cried, “be careful! Come back, I entreat you, +and let us argue this matter together.” + +But the Marchesa ran to the head of the staircase, and defied him. + +“What do I care?” she cried, “let them all hear! Let them all come, +and I will tell them who _I_ am, and what _you_ are!” + +She gave a kind of shrill cry, half of triumph and half of despair, as +she concluded, and Von Steinberg already heard a bustle below stairs, +as if the servants had been attracted by the noise and were hastening +to the rescue. He advanced to her side and essayed to place his hand +upon her mouth. She drew a knife at once from her pocket--he could see +the flash of the blade as she grasped it in her hand. The instinct of +self-preservation made him push her from him--she retreated towards +the stairs and slipped on the yielding carpet, and before he could do +anything to save her, the great unwieldy body, unable to recover +itself, had rolled with a scream of terror, down to the very hall, +where it lay inert and unconscious, crushed into a mass of senseless +clay. + +As the Baron realised the accident that had occurred, all his +resentment was merged in compassion. He forgot the mocking evil spirit +that had so lately defied and insulted him, and remembered only that +here lay a suffering fellow-creature--a patient to be relieved. + +His medical skill rose paramount to every other consideration, and he +was at the foot of the stairs almost as soon as she was. Three or four +servants appeared upon the scene--all had heard the heavy fall and the +scream which had accompanied it. Karl von Steinberg turned the body +gently over--it was totally unconscious and the limbs fell limply from +it. He could not tell how much or how little she was injured--the +first thing to do was to carry her upstairs again to her room--the +next to dispatch a servant for the best surgeon in Town, to render his +professional assistance. + +Meanwhile the body of Hannah lay crumpled up upon the bed, and had not +given a single sign of life. She was not dead, so far Von Steinberg +was able to ascertain, but if she would ever regain her consciousness, +he was unable to say. In a short time, he was joined by the famous +surgeon who had fortunately been disengaged, and between them they +undressed the poor mangled carcase, and ascertained the amount of +injury done to it. It was fearful. One thigh had to be set--two +ribs--the left arm--and an ankle. When the operations were completed, +Hannah lay like a swathed mummy in her bed, with her body broken in +all directions, and still unconscious. + +“Will she recover?” demanded her husband, “will she ever speak, or +open her eyes again? What is your opinion?” + +“It is hard to say, Baron! _You_ should know the lady’s constitution +better than I can. She appears to have a powerful frame, if her +physical strength corresponds with it, I should think it probable that +she will regain her consciousness by and by--but as to recovery, I +really should not like to express an opinion. You see for yourself the +maimed condition she is in--all I can say is, that a cure is possible, +but not at all probable. How did this sad event occur?” + +“We were laughing and playing together on the landing,” replied Von +Steinberg, unwilling to disclose the real cause of the accident to a +stranger, “and the Marchesa went back towards the staircase and +overbalanced herself. I made a rush, with the hope of catching her, +but I was too late to prevent her falling. It is a terrible height, +and she lighted on the marble floor at the bottom, with her head under +her. I made sure at first, that she had broken her neck. I was going +to add, ‘Thank God, it is not so,’ but I really do not know which +would be worse!” + +“No! no! you must not be so despairing as all that!” replied the +other, “your wife may recover sufficiently to enjoy her life yet, and +if not--at all events you would like to say a few words to her before +she leaves you! Now, I will send you a good hospital nurse at +once--one quite experienced in these cases--and I shall look in again +before nightfall. You are, of course, perfectly competent to look +after the case yourself, but we all like to take counsel with our +friends on such occasions. For the present then, good-bye!” + +He left Von Steinberg sitting by the side of their patient, and he did +not stir thence until the nurse arrived. What strange thoughts coursed +through his mind, as he held that silent, solitary vigil! + +He looked at poor Hannah, bandaged from head to foot, with the deepest +compassion. Was this to be the end of it? Was she to pay for the +indulgence of other people’s curiosity, with her life? + +The poor girl looked twice as distasteful in her mutilated condition +than heretofore. Her dull, flat face had resumed its normal vacuous +expression, whilst the rosy colour had fled from her cheeks, to be +replaced by a livid, purplish hue. Her large, coarse hands lay outside +the coverlet, and were discoloured and bruised, whilst her beautiful +eyes--her sole point of attraction--were closed, and left her rugged +features without expression. + +Yet in Von Steinberg’s sight, she appeared more interesting now than +she had done for a long time past. He gently raised her swollen hand +and held it between his warm palms. How cold and heavy and sodden it +felt, almost as if she were already a corpse. The livid face did not +repulse him, as it had done when Leonora’s evil spirit animated it! It +awoke no feeling in his breast but pity for a young life so spoilt and +mis-used for the sake of others. He resolved that if she recovered he +would take her away to some place far from London, and the +inquisitiveness of strangers, and see if he could not contrive to let +her pass the remainder of her life in peace and quietness, as Hannah +Stubbs, ignorant and uncouth perhaps, but refreshingly simple and +pure, after the experience he had lately had with her. + +The time passed on, but the Baron still kept his place by the bedside. +The servants came up to announce that his dinner was ready, but he +declined to partake of it--the housekeeper begged her master to let +her take his place if only for a few minutes, but he shook his head +and told her to leave him to himself. The dusk deepened and they +offered him lights--he said he preferred to sit in the dark till the +nurse arrived. So the door was closed and he remained there by +himself, musing sadly on the events of the day. + +Suddenly, when he had spent some fifteen or twenty minutes in these +reflections, not knowing how time went, he mechanically raised his +eyes, and perceived, standing at the foot of the bed, the most +beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her unbound hair, black as the +raven’s wing, fell in thick masses below her waist--her large luminous +eyes glowed like two fires--her white arms and hands were stretched +towards him--whilst her gaze was wistful and melancholy. He stared at +her in return, wondering who she could be, and whence she had come. +Gradually, as he was looking at her, and just about to speak, he saw +the melancholy look on her face change to a bewitching smile, the eyes +sparkled like diamonds, the features assumed an arch expression--she +changed from an angel to a devil--_it was Leonora!_ Von Steinberg felt +murderous--had she been mortal, he would have killed her! + +“What are you here for?” he exclaimed. “Have you come to gloat over +your cruel work? Get out of my sight, I command you, and never dare to +trouble her or me again!” + +Leonora gave her mocking smile as answer. The Baron felt in despair. +“God Almighty!” he cried, clasping his hands and looking upwards, +“deliver me and mine from the power of this mocking devil!” + +As he pronounced the words, with all the fervour of which his soul was +capable, the Spirit gave a shriek, and flew like lightning down the +stairs. The sound was heard all over the house, and the housekeeper +appeared again to inquire if her ladyship had stirred. + +“No! Mrs. Marston,” replied the Baron, sorrowfully, “she lies in +exactly the same state. I am beginning to give up all hope!” + +“O! don’t say that, Baron! Whilst there’s life, you know, there’s +always hope! But who was it, then, that screamed just now?” + +“Screamed!” he echoed, “did you hear a scream?” + +“Dear me, yes! we all heard it! I quite thought it was her ladyship +coming to!” + +“And did you meet anybody on the stairs?” asked Von Steinberg, with +interest. + +“_Meet anybody!_ why, no! Baron! they’re all of them below, and I have +given particular orders that they don’t stir, without my permission, +lest they should disturb her ladyship. But there’s the bell. I +shouldn’t wonder if that was the nurse! I’ll go and see!” + +It proved to be the nurse, and Mrs. Marston returned with her to the +bedroom. The new-comer regarded her patient in silence. It was not her +business to pass an opinion of any kind, but an acute observer might +have read from the expression of her eyes, that she had not much hope +of a favourable ending to the case. As soon as she had taken over +charge, Von Steinberg retired to his own room, leaving strict orders +that he was to be called, if there was the slightest change. + +His head was confused and dizzy--his heart alternately burning with +indignation and sorrow--he felt as if he was the greatest sinner that +had ever breathed. + +He could not rest, but spent the evening pacing up and down the room, +trying to think of some compensation for the unintentional wrong he +had done. The surgeon came at midnight, and pronounced that there was +no change in the Marchesa’s condition--gave a few directions to the +nurse--and promised to visit his patient again on the morrow. Von +Steinberg gave another look at the pale, uninteresting face that had +almost become dear to him--pressed the lifeless hand--and cautioned +the attendant to be sure and call him if necessary. + +At about four in the morning, she tapped at his door. + +“If you please, Baron, the lady has spoken, and seems to be looking +for some one, but I’m afraid she is not yet in her right mind--a +little light-headed, I mean, but you’d better come and see her.” + +Von Steinberg hurried on his clothes and hastened to Hannah’s bedside. + +Her eyes were open, and roving round the room in a strange, mystified +manner, but when she caught sight of the Baron, she recognised him at +once and gave a pitiful smile for welcome. + +“Lor! Doctor, ’ave they sent for you? I’m sure I dunno what ’ave come +to me, but I feels so bad--as if I was broke all over. Why did you +bring me ’ere? Be it a horspital? And do the Professor know? I should +like to see the Professor, Doctor, for I feel _that_ bad, and ’e was +very good to me!” + +“Hush, Hannah! Hush! my dear!” said Von Steinberg, quickly, noting the +bewildered look of the nurse at hearing a Marchioness talk in so +uneducated a manner, “you shall hear everything when you are a little +stronger! Yes! you have met with a bad accident, my dear, and I am +afraid you will have to remain quiet for a few days, but you will get +all right, if you will be patient. Here is your nurse, who will pay +you every attention, and make you well as soon as she can, and I am +here, too, to look after you!” + +Hannah regarded him with the limp, stolid expression which he +remembered so well of old, as if she were trying to follow the sense +of what he said to her, without the capability of doing so. + +“But where’s the Professor--my ’usband, you know! I wants to see ’im, +’e may be vexed ’cos I said I would get ’im a nice little +supper--tasty, what he likes--and if I don’t get back in time, he +won’t ’ave none.” + +“Hannah! Ricardo cannot come to you just now! You must believe what I +tell you! Nurse! have you any beef-tea ready? Give her a teaspoonful +with a little brandy in it. She is growing faint.” + +“O! I haches all hover!” groaned poor Hannah, as the weak tears oozed +from her eyes with the pain she was enduring, “I shan’t be able to get +the Professor’s meals, not for days and days, and ’e _will_ be sorry +when ’e ears I’m in the horspital. Was I run over, Doctor? I feels +like it! just as if a great cart wheel ’ad gone right hover me, and +crushed all my bones! O! it’s hagony!” + +“I know it must be, poor child, but we are doing all we can to relieve +you! Here! drink this!” said Von Steinberg, as he held the broth, into +which he had dropped some sedative, to her lips, and stood by her, +until she had dropped off into a moaning slumber. + +In the morning, after the surgeon’s examination, the Baron anticipated +his dictum. + +“You need not attempt to buoy me up with false hopes,” he said, “for I +can see the truth for myself. She will not get over it!” + +“I fear not! She has a wonderful constitution--the strength of a +lion--but there are internal injuries, and mortification has +commenced, and a few hours (say twenty-four), must see it terminated. +I cannot give you any hope!” + +“Thank you for being candid! It is best to know the worst at once! I +suppose we may give her anything she can take!” + +“Just so, but I should advise the use of soporifics if great pain +comes on, as it must, I fear, do!” + +The men shook hands, and the Baron returned to Hannah’s side. At all +events, he thought, she should not accuse him of inattention now. He +found her again awake and restless, with bright feverish eyes and an +anxious look on her features. + +“Doctor!” she gasped, as soon as he appeared, “I shan’t get over +this--I feel it! There’s a great fire inside of me, and my ’ead keeps +going round. I’ve got my death some’ow, I know. And I must see my pore +mother afore I dies!” + +“Your _mother_, Hannah!” cried Von Steinberg, aghast. + +“O! yes, Doctor, please!” replied the girl, weakly sobbing, “’cos she +was very good to me, afore I took up with devils and things. She +couldn’t abide woices nor shadders, couldn’t mother, and I was a bad +gal, I feels it now, to go agen ’er! It cut me to the ’eart, when we +parted so cruel, and if the Professor ’adn’t stood my friend, I dunno +what I _should_ ’ave done! And Joe too--my young man as was--he turned +me off along of the same thing, and I dessay ’e was right, but I loved +’im true, Doctor--I told the Sig-nor so--and I should like to say +good-bye to ’im also since I’m a’going!” + +“But, Hannah, you must not talk like that! You’re in great pain, I +know, but we will pull you through yet--see if we don’t!” + +“No! you won’t,” replied the girl, shaking her head; “there’s a summat +in my stummick, as tells me I shan’t never walk out of this ’ere bed. +And so, if I could see my pore mother once more, Doctor, and--and--my +young man, if so be ’e ain’t married another yet--it would make me +easier than anythink else!” + +“Then you shall see them, if it is in my power,” said Von Steinberg, +as he rose to leave her. + +“And the Professor, too, Doctor--my pore old ’usband,” added Hannah. +“’E’ll miss me a bit, won’t ’e, cos we was always sich good +friends--’e and I,--always sich good friends!” murmured the dying +girl, in a faint voice. + +Commending her to the care of the nurse, the Baron did what he +considered was the last and kindest duty he could perform towards her, +and that was to go down with all haste to Settlefield, and if possible +bring her people up to London to see her once more. + +He used the utmost expedition in accomplishing his errand, but it was +some hours before he reached the village, and then it was to find the +little cottage in darkness and mourning--Mrs. Stubbs having died the +day before. + +When the widower heard the errand on which Von Steinberg had come, he +expressed a sort of rough regret at his daughter’s hopeless condition, +but he did not volunteer to accompany him back to Town. + +“You see, Sir, it’s loike this,” he argued, “the missus she would ’ave +been very glad to see our Hannah afore she died, but it was not to be, +and she lays dead in that theer room, and ’ave lef’ me with hall these +childer on my ’ands, which I can’t leave ’em, not for Hannah, nor no +one. You must please to tell ’er with my dooty as it is so, and +p’r’aps when she’s strong and ’earty agen, she’ll remember her pore +father and ’ow ’e ’as to work to maintain ’er brothers and sisters, +and she rolling in riches, as you may say.” + +“But she will _never_ be strong and hearty again,” exclaimed Von +Steinberg, impatiently. “I tell you that my poor wife is dying. She +cannot last more than four-and-twenty hours!” + +“Well! I couldn’t go so soon, if I wanted ever so,” replied the man. +“Theer’s my lawful wife a’laying dead in that theer room, and I +wouldn’t leave the ’ouse whilst she’s in it, not for a ’undred +darters, be they whom they may!” + +“Very well, then, it is of no use my staying here,” said the Baron, +“but I thought you would have had a little more heart!” + +“Our Hannah haven’t been sich a perticular good darter to us, Sir, +arter all, you know! She wouldn’t give up them devils and things, as +near broke ’er pore mother’s ’eart, and when she was married to rale +gentlemen like Mr. Ricardo and yerself, she never come anigh us, nor +sent us a word for years--not till she sent them twenty pounds, which +I’m sure another little sum like that larst, would come in very +convenient just now!” + +Karl von Steinberg was too much irritated by his refusal to visit his +dying child, to feel very liberally inclined towards the cold-hearted +old grumbler just then. + +“I cannot stay to hear any more of your troubles now,” he said, “for I +must return to the side of my poor wife. By and by, perhaps, when I +have time to think, I may help you a little, for her sake!” + +He tore back to London as quickly as he could, half expecting to find +that Hannah had left _him_ also, without a last good-bye. But she was +still alive, and in less pain--the cruel mortification had done its +work--her spirit was holding on to earth by a single thread. + +As he entered her room, he found both the nurse and housekeeper there, +whilst Hannah was sitting up in bed, notwithstanding her splints and +bandages, with a bright look of expectation on her face. He was just +about to try and soothe her last moments with some pleasing fiction of +her mother coming to her soon, when he was startled by hearing her +exclaim, as she stretched out her arms towards the foot of the bed, + +“O! mother! mother! I know’d as you’d forgive me at the larst! Ah! it +_is_ good to see you, mother, arter all these years! But don’tee cry! +I shall soon be well again, now you’ve come to fetch me, and forgive +me for them devils and things, and take me ’ome to live along of you!” + +The plain face glowed with delighted anticipation--the swollen hands +were stretched out with rapture--the eyes, lovely to the last, beamed +upon the apparition that stood before her, and the spirit of Hannah +Stubbs, with the most gratifying result of all her mediumship, flew +into the arms of her waiting mother, whilst her body fell back +lifeless on the pillows. She had passed away in total ignorance of all +that had befallen her since she had left her mother’s care for that of +Ricardo--she did not know that she had ever been obsessed by Leonora, +or that her hand had committed a murder, or that she had been +unfaithful, or insolent, or overbearing! Poor ignorant, innocent +Hannah Stubbs! Stupid, plain and uninteresting, as she came from His +hand, she returned to her Creator, to be beautified and refined and +enlightened, under the process of her Father’s love! + + THE END. + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + +The Bernhard Tauchnitz (Leipzig, 1896) edition was consulted for the +changes listed below. + +Obsolete and inconsistent spellings (e.g. negociations, laughing +stock/laughing-stock, needlework/needle-work, etc.) have been +preserved. + +Alterations to the text: + +Add ToC. + +Punctuation: fix some quotation mark pairings/nestings. + +[Chapter I] + +Change “he and the Sig-nor will be _closetted_ for hours together” to +_closeted_. + +[Chapter III] + +“Is she very stupid. very clumsy, very impertinent?” change period to +a comma. + +(“It ain’t that, Sir,” she said, shaking her head, “In course I was) +change the last comma to a period. + +[Chapter IV] + +“she must shake like an aspen leaf I found ’er in the kitchen” add +period after _leaf_. + +[Chapter V] + +Change “you were to see Doctor Steinberg again _tonight_?” to +_to-night_. + +[Chapter VI] + +“that it does not all proceed from giving her _medecine_!” to +_medicine_. + +“they found themselves once more _closetted_ with Hannah Stubbs” to +_closeted_. + +[Chapter VII] + +(don’t take ’eed to your ways,” retorted his irate adversary, “Me and) +change the last comma to a period. + +“doings of Satan--and no more will. this young man ’ere!” delete the +period. + +[Chapter VIII] + +“If he had _announccd_ that he intended to murder Hannah Stubbs” to +_announced_. + +[Chapter IX] + +“continue to call her Hannah _has_ usual” to _as_. + +[Chapter XII] + +“when pressed, as late as ten o’clock at night, Now! go on with” +change the second comma to a period. + +“and ’ave you left them for good. and where are you living now?” +change the period to a comma. + +[Chapter XIII] + +“Karl _van_ Steinberg alone remaining behind for a few minutes” to +_von_. + +“if her condition were normal. or if they could trace any” change +the period to a comma. + +[Chapter XIV] + +(but English is so hard,” she added, pathetically,) change the third +comma to a period. + +[Chapter XV] + +“against her; the would accept any explanation she chose to child +give--she was only...” change _the_ to _she_ and delete _child_. + +(“O! don’t speak of such a thing pray! I shouldn’t) add comma after +_thing_. + +[Chapter XVI] + +“but all this talk about Spiritualism is only got up, for want of +a better excitement.” delete the comma. + +[Chapter XVII] + +“I lost her in so cruelly sudden a manner Only four days ill” add +period after _manner_. + + [End of text] + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76579 *** diff --git a/76579-h/76579-h.htm b/76579-h/76579-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..989cb31 --- /dev/null +++ b/76579-h/76579-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12651 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The strange transfiguration of Hannah Stubbs | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +/* Headers and Divisions */ + h1, h2, h3, h4 {margin:4em 0em 1em 0em; page-break-before:always; text-align:center;} + +/* General */ + + body {margin:0% 5% 0% 5%;} + + .nobreak {page-break-before:avoid;} + + p {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:justify; text-indent:1em;} + .center {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} + .noindent {text-indent:0em;} + + .toc_l {font-variant:small-caps; margin:0em 0em 0em 2em; text-indent:-2em;} + + .rt1 {margin:0em 1em 0em 0em; text-align:right; text-indent:0em;} + + .font70 {font-size:70%;} + .font80 {font-size:80%;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps;} + +/* special formatting */ + + .i0 {display:inline-block; margin:0em 0em 0em 2em; text-indent:-2em;} + + blockquote {margin:1em 2em 1em 2em;} + + .mt1 {margin-top:1em;} + .mt2 {margin-top:2em;} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76579 ***</div> + +<h1> +<span class="font70">THE</span><br> +STRANGE<br> +TRANSFIGURATION<br> +<span class="font70">OF</span><br> +HANNAH STUBBS +</h1> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="font80">BY</span><br> +FLORENCE MARRYAT<br> +<span class="font80">AUTHOR OF<br> +“<i>Love’s Conflict</i>,” “<i>My Own Child</i>,”<br> +“<i>My Sister the Actress</i>,”<br> +<i>etc., etc., etc.</i></span> +</p> + +<p class="center mt2"> +<span class="i0">“<i>There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio,</i></span><br> +<span class="i0"><i>Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.</i>”—<span class="sc">Hamlet</span></span> +</p> + +<p class="center mt2"> +LONDON<br> +HUTCHINSON AND CO.<br> +34, PATERNOSTER ROW<br> +MDCCCXCVI. +</p> + + +<h2> +CONTENTS +</h2> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch01">CHAPTER I</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch02">CHAPTER II</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch03">CHAPTER III</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch04">CHAPTER IV</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch05">CHAPTER V</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch06">CHAPTER VI</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch07">CHAPTER VII</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch08">CHAPTER VIII</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch09">CHAPTER IX</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch10">CHAPTER X</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch11">CHAPTER XI</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch12">CHAPTER XII</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch13">CHAPTER XIII</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch14">CHAPTER XIV</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch15">CHAPTER XV</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch16">CHAPTER XVI</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch17">CHAPTER XVII</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch18">CHAPTER XVIII</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch19">CHAPTER XIX</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch20">CHAPTER XX</a> +</p> + + +<h2> +THE STRANGE TRANSFIGURATION<br> +OF HANNAH STUBBS +</h2> + +<h3 class="nobreak" id="ch01"> +CHAPTER I. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">Signor Ricardo</span>, Prof. of the Italian Language!” That was the legend +that was engraved on the small brass plate that surmounted the bell +that admitted visitors to Mrs. Battleby’s lodging-house in Soho. +Signor Ricardo was everything that was estimable in Mrs. Battleby’s +eyes, only he was, as she observed to her next-door neighbour, Mrs. +Blamey, “a Mystery”. He was a tall, attenuated man, who stooped +slightly in the shoulders—had dark-grey eyes, keen as those of a +hawk, and shaded by bushy eyebrows—a perfect aquiline nose—and a +grave, almost solemn mouth, which seldom smiled, and ended in a +pointed beard, like that of Vandyke. He was very poor, being an +Italian refugee, whose estates had been confiscated for some political +error, but he was eminently a gentleman of the <i>ancienne noblesse</i>, +and preserved the dignity of his birth, even whilst pursuing an +occupation which is considered to place a man beyond the pale of +Society. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s as good a lodger as ever I had,” said Mrs. Battleby, on the +occasion referred to, “as reglar as a clock, both in his ’abits and +his payments—every Saturday mornin’ he dislocates my little bill, +though I believe he’s sometimes sorely put-to to find the money, and +every evenin’ he’s ’ome by eight o’clock and has his bit of supper and +puts his light out by ten, but arter that—well! he’s a Mystery!” +</p> + +<p> +“Lor! Mrs. Battleby, ma’am, you don’t go to think he’s murdered +anybody, do yer?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Murdered anybody!</i>” repeated the other, with withering contempt, +“why, he’s the aimabeloust gentleman you ever come acrost. He wouldn’t +hurt a fly, the Sig-nor” (Mrs. Battleby pronounced the word Signor, +with a decided accentuation on the letter <i>g</i>), “not to save his own +life! And got no temper in him. Never ’eard a ’arsh word, nor a hoath +pass his lips. If you’d only seen him onst, you’d never arsk if he was +a murderer, Mrs. Blamey!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then ’ow is he a Mystery, which it’s a word I never could abear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! it’s this way. When the Sig-nor come to me, now three years +ago, he hired three rooms at the top of the ’ouse. I had better rooms +I could have let him ’ave, on the floor below, but no! nothing would +suit him but my top rooms, hattics as I call ’em, and I had to turn +Mary Ann—that gal as went off with the postman—out of her bedroom in +order to accommodate him, and he’s lived there ever since. One is his +bedroom and the other his parlour, as you may suppose, but would you +believe it, Mrs. Blamey, as I’ve never seen the inside of my own third +room, ever since the Sig-nor has been with me!” +</p> + +<p> +“My! what do he do with it?” +</p> + +<p> +“ ’Ow can I tell? I tell you he’s a Mystery! The first day I went up to +clean his floor, I found the door locked, and when I arsked for the +key, the Sig-nor he says to me, ‘Excuge me,’ he says, for he’s the +politest of gentlemen, ‘but I will see after that room myself.’ ‘Lor! +Sir,’ I says, ‘but if it’s books or papers, I’ll be as careful as +careful,’ I says, ‘but you can’t never struggle with the dust +yourself.’ But he was as firm as a rock, and that there door has never +been unclosed to my knowledge since.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Battleby, ma’am, you gives me the cold creeps all down my back! +Suppose he should be Jack the Ripper, and congeals the corpusses in +your third room. Stranger things ’ave ’appened before now! I think it +be’oves you as an ’ouseholder to break open the door!” +</p> + +<p> +At this suggestion, Mrs. Battleby looked for a moment confounded, but +in a short time her confidence in the respectability of her lodger, +not to say the remembrance of his regularity in paying his rent, +restored her equanimity. +</p> + +<p> +“No! Mrs. Blamey, no!” she replied, “wild ’orses shouldn’t make me do +it! I’ll never believe no bad of the Sig-nor, though he <i>is</i> a +foreigner, and many’s the one as has warned me against him. And he has +the respectablelest of friends. Doctor Steinberg is here five days out +of the seven, and I’ve heard tell as the Sig-nor teaches Royalty to +speak the I-talian langwidge. In course he is a foreigner, there’s no +denying that, but it ain’t ’is fault, and I’d be the last to throw it +in his teeth! But lor! here’s the Doctor coming along as usual, and he +and the Sig-nor will be closeted for hours together.” +</p> + +<p> +The conversation was here interrupted by the arrival of a young man of +about thirty, who had fair hair, worn longer than is usual in this +country, and whose short-sighted eyes appeared abnormally large +through the powerful glasses he was compelled to wear. He was a German +of the name of Steinberg, and the profession of medicine—a clever +fellow who was rising fast, and knew how to make the best of his +opportunities. He was interested in Signor Ricardo for several +reasons, and was, as Mrs. Battleby had said, a frequent visitor there. +</p> + +<p> +“Is the Signor in?” he demanded, as he came up with her. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sir! he came in half an hour ago. You might be sure of that! He +is so regular that I calls him my clock.” +</p> + +<p> +“And alone?” continued Steinberg. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite alone, Sir!” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good! Don’t disturb yourself, Mrs. Battleby. I will find my way +up to his rooms.” +</p> + +<p> +And so saying, he passed her and ran lightly up the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Anyways I must go,” observed the landlady, as he disappeared, “for +that gal of mine is so stupid I can’t trust her to do a single thing +alone. I don’t know what my old friend Mary Stubbs was thinking of to +arsk me to take her. She’s no more good than the fifth wheel of a +coach! I believe she’s got a maggot in her brain. I found her making +the kitchen table hop round the room yesterday, and when I told her +not to be fooling like a child of five year old, she said she hadn’t +touched it. If I hadn’t been a fool myself, I shouldn’t never have +consented to try a gal, as had never been to service before, and come +fresh from the country, like a turnip out of a field. But her mother +and me, we was brought up together, and she wanted to get Hannah into +service away from Settlefield where they live—something to do with a +lad as she wanted to marry, I believe—and I gave in. But she’s likely +to prove a plague to me, for she’s always crying after her lad, and if +I do hate one thing before another, it is a love-sick gal. You might +as well have a basin of gruel to help you in the ’ouse!” +</p> + +<p> +“She’ll soon forget ’im in London,” said Mrs. Blamey consolingly, +“there are plenty of lads about! She’ll ’ave another in a fortnight!” +</p> + +<p> +“I dessay,” returned Mrs. Battleby, “but meanwhile she’ll do more +damage than she’s worth. She broke half a dozen bits of crockery this +week, a rattling them about, and when I tell ’er to keep ’em quiet, +she cries and says she can’t ’elp it! Well, good evening, Mrs. Blamey! +P’r’aps the Sig-nor will be wanting a little something extry for his +supper, now that the Doctor’s come to spend the evening with him.” +</p> + +<p> +And the neighbours parted until the next idle moment should arrive, in +which they could relieve their minds by chattering like two magpies to +each other. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile Doctor Steinberg had run lightly up the staircase until he +had reached the third story and tapped at his friend’s door. The +Signor gave the permission to enter, and his thin face lighted up with +pleasure as he caught sight of Steinberg. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! the dear young man!” he exclaimed, in English, which was quite +intelligible, though rather broken, “and have you come to cheer my +solitude? That is very good! Now I shall have a pleasant evening! I +want it, my good friend, for I have had a most fatiguing day.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can see that you are weary,” said the young doctor, as he grasped +his hand, “and more than that, Signor, you are weak. I am afraid that +amidst your multifarious duties to others, you forget your duty to +yourself! Your pulse is very feeble. You have neither eaten nor drunk +enough to-day. I hope you have prepared a hearty supper for yourself!” +</p> + +<p> +“I know nothing! My good Mrs. Battleby arranges all these little +affairs for me! I had a good breakfast before I started this morning, +but as for the mid-day meal—well, it is difficult for me to eat when +I am tired, and even if I could, it would be still more difficult to +digest. My stomach is feeble, Steinberg. If you could give me a new +stomach, my kind friend, I know you would, but it is impossible. The +machine will go on working a little longer, and for myself I care not +how soon it may stop altogether!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! you must not say that! Why! you are not fifty yet. You have a +good thirty years before you in which to enjoy life and make your +friends happy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Friends, Steinberg! with the exception of yourself, where are my +friends?” +</p> + +<p> +“O! you have more than you think for, Signor, and at all events one is +enough to try and make you look after yourself. You are not so weak as +you imagine. If you would rest by night, you would not feel the +fatigue of the day so much. But these studies that you will pursue, +are killing you! They would try the strength of the strongest man, +repeated as they are with you, night after night, but added to the +strain made upon your physical and mental faculties by day, they will +end by landing you in your grave!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I shall have gained my desire,” said the Professor, with a faint +smile, “and the Great Secret will be solved!” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps! but why, then, not wait for the Change which must inevitably +come to all of us, to discover what lies beyond?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! you do not know—you do not understand——” said the Professor, +“my heart is being burnt up with longing and desire. I cannot rest! +there is no peace for me unless I am striving to find out one +thing—to solve one mystery—I feel as if I cannot die until I have +found it out!” +</p> + +<p> +“Found <i>what</i> out?” repeated Steinberg, “what is this secret you are +so eager to discover the solution of? Will you not confide it to me?” +</p> + +<p> +The Signor looked at the young scientist curiously, as though +questioning whether he could trust him. Presently the gloom cleared +off his brow and he murmured, +</p> + +<p> +“Why not? You are my friend—my only friend. You would preserve it as +I have done. But will you join me in trying to find the Secret out? +Will you also dip into the mysteries of Occultism, and hold converse +with the Unseen World?” +</p> + +<p> +“That I cannot promise you,” replied the Doctor, “certainly not until +I know what it is you are striving for. Remember, that I know but +little of your doings, except that you shut yourself up in that little +room for half the night and sit up poring over old books and +manuscripts, long after you should be in bed and asleep. I conclude +you study Witchcraft and Black Magic! Well! I am a Lutheran and have +been reared to consider such studies wrong, and practised only by the +children of the Devil, but I know nothing of them myself. What is your +object in thus ruining your health? I cannot imagine any sane man who +has duties in this world to fulfil, caring about such rubbish. True or +false, leave it to those who have no more serious aim in life, and +think only of your health and yourself!” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo leaned back in his chair and smiled furtively. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, what is the use of it?” continued Steinberg, pertinaciously. +</p> + +<p> +The Professor answered the question in a way that startled him. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you ever loved?” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“You must tell me first what you mean by the word.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you ever loved a woman intensely—passionately—loved her so +much that your life was fused in her life—your soul in her soul?” +</p> + +<p> +The Doctor sat up in his chair and stared at his friend. For a moment +he thought he had gone mad. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Never!</i>” he said, emphatically. “As a rule, I have not cared for +women. I look upon the sex as a necessary evil—something without +which population cannot go on—without which, too, Nature could not +exist—but as something also to be avoided as much as possible, and +dealt with as little as may be!” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo sighed. +</p> + +<p> +“Happy man!” he ejaculated at last, “you are to be envied, Steinberg. +You have missed great happiness, and great pain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Happiness!” echoed Steinberg, “is it possible, Signor, that your +grave demeanour and your mysterious studies have anything to do with a +woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“They have everything—everything, to do with it,” exclaimed the elder +man, excitedly. “Steinberg, I have never told you my history. You do +not even know who I am! If I confide in you, will you hold my +confidence sacred?” +</p> + +<p> +The Doctor held out his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Most certainly I will. There is my hand on it. But do not stir up +painful memories for my sake, Professor! If you are endeavouring to +forget the Past, let it lie in it’s grave!” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you to hear it,” replied Ricardo, “I am old, I might go any +day. You are my only friend. I should like you to know the truth +before we part!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you talk of yourself as an old man? What age are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I was forty-nine on my last birthday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense! You are in the prime of life. This intelligence still +further confirms my belief that your appearance and weakness are due +to your unnatural studies alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the pursuit of which holds the only consolation this world can +afford me,” replied Ricardo. “Wait till you have heard what I have to +tell you, Steinberg, and you will acknowledge that I am right. First, +then, as to my identity. My name is not Ricardo. I am Paolo, Marchese +di Sorrento, the last member of one of the oldest families in Italy.” +</p> + +<p> +“A nobleman!” cried Steinberg, “and in this humble position? For what +reason? What brought you down so low, as to be compelled to work for +your daily bread?” +</p> + +<p> +“A political offence, my friend, and not of my own doing! A plot +against the Government, in which several nobles were concerned, and +being the intimate friend and associate of most of them, my name +became unfortunately mixed up with theirs, and I found my property and +estates confiscated, and myself banished from Italy, before I hardly +knew what it was all about. It was a great misfortune, but many have +suffered in the same way. I came to England as the only land in which +I could make a little money by teaching my native language, and I have +managed to exist since and have found several pupils in noble +families, as you well know. But my father’s name—the title that had +been handed down and honoured through so many generations—I could not +retain that! It would have been an infamy—a degradation!” +</p> + +<p> +“No wonder that you have aged before your time—that you are of so +melancholy a temperament,” observed Steinberg. “Your misfortunes have +been sufficient to kill you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! do not mistake me, my good friend! This reverse, however cruel, +could not have had the power to sap my life-strings in this manner. +There was worse behind it—so much worse that the blow of losing my +name and money fell almost scatheless upon me! I had already lost my +world.” +</p> + +<p> +Steinberg remained silent, waiting for him to proceed. +</p> + +<p> +“I asked you just now if you had ever loved, and you told me, ‘No’. +You are right! Keep to your resolution. Never allow yourself to be +entangled in a woman’s wiles, for they are Death to those who trust in +them. When I was only one-and-twenty and had just come into my +father’s estates and title, I fell a victim to the charms of Leonora +d’Asissi, a young lady my equal in rank and position, and after a +brief courtship, we were married. Ah! Steinberg, how I loved—I +adored—that woman! You, who confess to having never experienced the +tender passion cannot enter into my feelings. We Italians are famous +for our ardent love, and no Italian ever loved more ardently than I +did. I lived only in her presence; I was never weary of contemplating +her exquisite beauty; I waited on her as a slave; I made the day and +night tremulous with the repetition of my love. Do not we often weary +women by telling them too often that we love them, Steinberg? Are they +fickle by nature, or is it only that they hate monotony? Any way +Leonora, my adored wife, wearied of me and mine. She could not bear to +remain in our beautiful villa in the country, where she saw no one but +her enraptured lover, but pined to return to the palazzo in Rome which +has been in our family for generations. Here, she would collect around +her all the young married women like herself, with their attendant +<i>cavalieres serventes</i> and turn night into day with her balls and +feasts and concerts. And yet I suspected nothing!” +</p> + +<p> +“Was there anything to suspect?” demanded the Doctor. +</p> + +<p> +The Professor started in his seat. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! now you touch the root of the matter! Was there? <i>Was</i> there? The +question haunts me night and day. But I was jealous, Steinberg, all my +nation are! Where Love is so warm, doubts will intrude themselves. +Perhaps we expect too much from women. Their natures are not so +passionate as ours. We tax them too much—we look for a flame as +ardent as our own—and when we do not find it, we begin to suspect it +is bestowed upon another man. When I had my Leonora all to +myself—when in the silence of night, her beautiful head lay in +peaceful sleep upon my breast, I believed nothing but good of her—but +when I watched her whirling round the ball room in the arms of some +one of my acquaintance, or found her sitting in the conservatory with +another, Suspicion would lay hold of my jealous temper, and I would +question if after all, she were deceiving me, and everyone knew the +bitter truth but myself.” +</p> + +<p> +The recollection of those days of anguish seemed to overcome the +Signor even then, for he pulled out his handkerchief, and wiped the +moisture from his brow. +</p> + +<p> +“The relation distresses you,” remarked Steinberg, “pray do not +proceed.” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! I shall not stop now until you have heard all. I have gone +too far already. Amongst Leonora’s acquaintances was a young man, a +mere lad called Lorenzo Centi. Some one made a joke about her and this +boy before me and aroused my suspicions concerning them. I found +Leonora on more than one occasion sitting apart on a couch with young +Centi—once, with their hands clasped together—and I forbad him the +house in consequence. But a rumour reached my ears that, when I was +away from home, my wife’s woman was used to fetch Centi to her, and +they spent the time of my absence together. I determined to watch. I +professed to be going for a night into the country to see after my +farm, but I returned at midnight, and found them supping together in +Leonora’s boudoir. I rushed in upon them furiously, and my wife turned +and laughed in my face—knowing all my deep love for her, she laughed +at my disappointment and she drove me mad. Before God, Steinberg, if +she had only cried, or seemed frightened, or sorry, I should have +spared her—I loved her so intensely—but her laugh raised all the +Devil in me and before the smile had left her lips, she lay dead at my +feet.” +</p> + +<p> +The stoical German sprang away from Ricardo’s side. He had been +prepared for much, but not for murder. +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! you must be mistaken,” he exclaimed; “you do not mean that +you killed her!” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Killed her!</i> Of course I did, and would have killed her lover into +the bargain, but that he escaped before I could lay hands on him. She +laughed at my distress, and I stabbed her to the heart with my dagger. +Better dead, a thousand times, I thought, than live a lie! But +now—now——” +</p> + +<p> +“You are sorry—you repent——” said Steinberg, sympathetically, “Yes! +I can understand it perfectly! But it was done in a moment of +anger—you were not master of yourself—you would act very differently +were the time to come over again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not if she were false,” cried the Professor, “I would kill her over +again this moment, if she deceived me! But did she—did she? That is +the question that harasses me now.” +</p> + +<p> +“What! have you any doubts upon the subject?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have every doubt—they torture me day and night. What proofs had I +of her guilt? She was young and careless and very, very beautiful! +Might she not have played with fire without considering the +consequences—without being burnt? She laughed at me, it is true—but +she did not know the depth of a man’s love—the strength of a man’s +jealousy. +</p> + +<p> +“She did not think, my poor Leonora, that my hand was on the fatal +weapon I carried in my breast. Ah, Steinberg, it is better like you +never to have known the rapture of possessing a woman, than to feel +you have sent her out of the world, when perhaps she was innocent.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is terrible,” said the Doctor, “but was it never cleared up?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Never!</i> In my country, we think far less of such things than you do +in yours. A husband who kills his wife through jealousy, and +especially when he has found her with her lover, is too common an +offender to provoke condign punishment. I was had up before the +tribunal to afford an explanation of my wife’s death, and the reasons +I gave were considered sufficient. I left the country afterwards, more +to escape from my maddening recollections than to avoid Society—I +also had a burning desire to meet young Centi and give him his due, +but he was so successfully concealed by his family, that I never +gained my wish. Perhaps it was for the best. My hands might have been +imbrued in a second unnecessary murder! When, after many years’ +wandering, I ventured to return to Rome, it was to find that my +estates were no longer mine, and I was doomed to exile. Now, you have +my history, Steinberg, and you may thank God that you have escaped so +sad a one!” +</p> + +<p> +Karl Steinberg was silent for awhile—so was his companion. This +narrative had rather shocked the German’s sensibilities, while it had +excited great sympathy for the lonely man before him, who had been +bereft of all he held dear, or that made life worth living for him. +</p> + +<p> +The Doctor, with his want of faith in Women, had not much doubt in his +own mind that the Signor’s wife had merited her doom, but he declined +to express an opinion on the subject either way. After a few minutes’ +pause, he said, with the view of turning a conversation which had +become so painful to both of them, +</p> + +<p> +“But what has all this to do, Professor, with your study of the Black +Art?” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch02"> +CHAPTER II. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Ricardo</span> looked up dreamily, as if he had quite forgotten that part +of the subject. +</p> + +<p> +“Have I not told you?” he inquired; “do you not understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed I do not! I am quite in the dark about it! You have related to +me the painful story of your poor wife’s death, with which I fully +sympathise, but I do not trace any connection between that and your +interest in Mysticism.” +</p> + +<p> +“How strange! How very strange!” replied Ricardo, shaking himself +together. “Why! to me they are one. My one object in life now is to +learn the truth—to hear if I were only the rightful agent to avenge a +great wrong, or if my mad jealousy prompted me to commit a murder. It +is for this reason alone that I have studied, as far as I am able, the +Art of Magic, and pored over my books and my experiments half the +nights through, in order to gain an answer.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how can that avail you, Signor? Do you expect the Spirits of Evil +to aid you in this matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! Leonora herself! It is for Leonora only that I sit up night +after night, listening for a sign, a whisper—straining my eyes for a +glance, a shadow—but it seems all in vain. I must have help, and in +this house, surrounded as I am by curious eyes, I know not how to +obtain what I require.” +</p> + +<p> +“And do you really believe that your dead wife will be able by the aid +of Magic to return to you in bodily shape and satisfy your curiosity +on this subject?” questioned the Doctor, almost amused at the idea—so +impossible did it appear to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not? Why not?” inquired Ricardo, impatiently. “Others have come, +and why not my beautiful Leonora? Surely, you do not disbelieve in the +possibility of the spirit’s return to earth? It has happened in all +ages! Why not in this?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know too little of the matter to be able to give you a sensible +answer,” said the Doctor, “but if possible, it seems most undesirable +to me. These things will all be cleared up for us by and by, in the +Hereafter, if there be an Hereafter. Meanwhile, cannot you persuade +yourself to wait patiently until you join your wife in the Great +Beyond? If you committed an unfortunate error and she was innocent, +why disturb her in the rest she must have gained?—and if, on the +contrary, she really deceived you, may you not be doing yourself an +injury by drawing back to earth a malevolent spirit, who may still be +harbouring thoughts of revenge against you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no!” said the Professor, shaking his head, “you will not convince +me I am doing wrong, or rob me of my one unceasing hope to see and +speak with her again. It is the awful doubt, the suspense, that has +turned my hair grey before its time, and made my voice quaver like +that of an old man. If I could only raise her from the dead for one +little moment—hear her say, ‘I am innocent, and I forgive you!’ I +should ask no more—I should live contentedly and die happy!” +</p> + +<p> +“And what means do you take to this end?” demanded Karl Steinberg, who +could not help feeling a certain amount of interest in the matter, +since his friend appeared so earnest over it. +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo looked round the room as though to assure himself that he had +no listeners—then rising, went to the door, and having locked it, +turned to Steinberg, and said, +</p> + +<p> +“Come with me and see my séance room!” +</p> + +<p> +He stepped towards the door of the third room, which constituted him +such a Mystery to his landlady, and which opened from the one in which +they sat, and turned the key. Steinberg followed him curiously, but +all he saw was, that the small apartment was hung round the walls and +over the window and floor, with black stuff, and that it contained no +furniture, unless a couple of cushions thrown on the ground can be +called so. +</p> + +<p> +“No air and no light!” exclaimed the Doctor. “And what do you do +here?” +</p> + +<p> +“When the household have gone to bed,” said Ricardo, mysteriously, +“and I am sure of not being disturbed, I shut myself in and burn the +different incenses recommended in the books of Magic, and after a +while the spirits come, and sit down on the floor beside me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean me to believe that?” exclaimed Steinberg, staring at +Ricardo as though he were insane, as indeed, at that moment, he +believed him to be. +</p> + +<p> +“You can believe it, or not,” replied the Professor, “but it is true.” +</p> + +<p> +“Impossible!” cried the Doctor, “you let your imagination run away +with you. You work so hard all day and permit this morbid fancy to +occupy your tired brain by night, until it has become in a measure, +diseased. I know you think you see and feel these things, but it is a +species of delirium or mental intoxication, bred of your intense +longing to accomplish what is unaccomplishable.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good,” said Ricardo, quietly, “if you believe that, you must +believe it! But what would convince you of the truth?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing but the evidence of my own senses, whilst they were in the +calm condition they are at present.” +</p> + +<p> +“If that is so, my friend, stay here and sit with me to-night. Then +your own senses shall convince you.” +</p> + +<p> +This proposition took Steinberg by surprise. He was not entirely free +from the universal dread of anything like communication with the +Unseen World, although he had expressed his disbelief in the +possibility, but his fear was mingled with curiosity, and the result +was that he assented to Ricardo’s proposal. +</p> + +<p> +“I will, Professor,” he said, “if only to try and show you that your +supposed spirits are merely shadows cast upon the wall.” +</p> + +<p> +“A wall which has no light wherewith to cast shadows,” remarked +Ricardo, sarcastically. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! well! that they are shadows thrown on the retina of your eye by +reflections from your brain,” replied the young Doctor, somewhat +testily, for he did not like to be refuted on his own ground, “any way +that the spirits of the dead have nothing to do with anything that you +may see, or hear, whilst shut up in this little room.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are not arguing on what I may see or hear, Steinberg, but on what +may strike your senses. Neither did I affirm that the living things +that visit me, are spirits of the dead. My studies have taught me that +there is a class of secondary spirits called Elementals, that have had +nothing to do with this earth, but who yet can and do come to the aid +of those mortals who solicit their assistance. The vapoury forms that +appear to me may be only Elementals, but they come, all the same.” +</p> + +<p> +“If they come, they must be worth the trouble of investigation, if +only in the interests of Science,” remarked Steinberg, thoughtfully, +“but after all, will it not resolve itself into the same old truth +that we have been brought up to believe, <i>i.e.</i>, that we are +surrounded by evil spirits always ready to whisper bad thoughts into +our ears, and stimulate our worst inclinations?” +</p> + +<p> +“But if evil spirits, then also good,” interposed the Professor +eagerly, “you surely would not deny the same power to all those +departed this earth. If devils, then also my Leonora, to speak with +whom I have been promised over and over again, and feel I only want +more power to accomplish.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! at all events I will sit with you this evening, Professor, and +try to see as you do. But I hear footsteps on the stairs. Had you not +better close the door of your sanctum, and turn the conversation to +some lighter subject?” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo locked the door carefully, putting the key in his pocket, and +by the time Mrs. Battleby appeared with the supper tray, the two +friends were talking gaily of a new drama that had just created some +sensation in the town. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you would come out with me sometimes, Professor,” the Doctor +was saying, “it would do you good to see some of these novelties and +listen to the discussions over them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! that it would, Sir,” said Mrs. Battleby, who was never backward +in joining in the conversation, “it would do the Sig-nor all the good +in the world, instead of poring over them nasty, musty vollums of his, +as must be enough to make any gentleman’s ’ead ache.” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! no!” exclaimed Ricardo, waving their suggestions away with +his hand, “I cannot! It is impossible! I have other things to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or if you would ’ave your friends here more of an evening, Sir,” +continued the landlady, “nice, light-’arted young people, as could +play the banjo to you and sing a bit, I’m sure it would cheer you up, +and dissolve you from your studies.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense! you don’t know what you’re talking about,” exclaimed the +Professor, impatiently. “Put down the tray, Mrs. Battleby, like a good +creature, and leave the Doctor and me to ourselves. We have some +important matters to discuss.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, Sir,” said Mrs. Battleby, as she bounced the tray down on +the table with an energy that proved her wounded feelings, “and I ’ope +as when you rings the bell, you won’t mind my gal Hannah coming up to +clear, as I’ve got a little marketing to do, and I knows you don’t +like the things lying about too long.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! dear no,” said Ricardo, “let Hannah clear the table by all means, +and tell her to be quick about it, Mrs. Battleby, as my friend and I +have business to attend to.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good, Sir!” replied the landlady, as she left them to +themselves. +</p> + +<p> +Steinberg and Ricardo soon dispatched the simple meal set before them, +and then the former, drawing out his watch, remarked that if he was to +get home that night, he thought they had better set to work in their +search after the Invisible World. +</p> + +<p> +The Professor accordingly rang the bell, which was answered by a young +woman whom he had never seen before, all the waiting in his room being +usually performed by Mrs. Battleby. The stranger was about eighteen +years of age, and looked as if she had just been transported from a +stack-yard, or a cow-house, and set down in Soho. She was not at all +attractive to the sight. She had a thick, ungainly figure, with a +waist like a tar-barrel, and huge hands and feet. Her bosom was +unusually developed for so young a girl—her face was broad and +flat—her mouth wide—her nose short and turned-up, and her colour +coarse and high. But to counteract all these failings, Hannah +possessed a wonderful pair of grey eyes, set wide apart in a low +forehead—eyes that looked you through and through, and yet had a +far-away dreamy gaze that was very provoking to Mrs. Battleby who +declared the girl was always more than half asleep. Hannah also +rejoiced in a thick mass of light brown hair, which made her head seem +much too large for her body. Taken altogether, she was uncouth, but +there was an innocence and simplicity in her gaze which was very +attractive when one had the time to discover it. As she stood silent +on the threshold of the Professor’s room, the men both thought she was +one of the stupidest, most countrified lasses they had ever come +across. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you Hannah?” asked Ricardo, and on receiving an answer in the +affirmative, he added, +</p> + +<p> +“Well! your mistress said you were to clear away my supper tray, and +when you have done that, you can bring me up a jug of hot water, and +then you must not disturb us again to-night. Do you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +For the girl was looking at him so stolidly, that it seemed doubtful +if she had even heard what he said to her. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sir!” she answered, in a dull, low voice, as she piled all the +plates and dishes on the top of one another, preparatory to making a +grand smash if she should happen to slip going downstairs again. +</p> + +<p> +“What a lout!” was Steinberg’s observation, as Hannah disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +“Just so,” said Ricardo, “a simple piece of clay—a heifer newly +driven from pasture—an animal with all her senses undeveloped—but +not without a soul! Did you remark her eyes? They are unfathomable! I +should be curious, had I the time, to find out what lies beneath +them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Holloa!” cried Steinberg, with a laugh, “take care of yourself, +Professor! Finding out what lies beneath women’s eyes, is dangerous +work! You might even animate this clod in your researches.” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo regarded him reproachfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know me so little, as to jest on such a subject?” he said. “I, +whose whole soul is bent on one object only. Steinberg, will you +believe me when I say, that since Leonora died beneath my hand, I have +never looked at another woman with even a semblance of the same +feelings? I was only thirty when I drove her soul from me, but I have +been widowed ever since, and shall remain so to my grave!” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a mistake to take these things too seriously,” replied his +friend, “it is better to have lived as I have, caring for no one and +regretting no one—for you see when a gap occurs I am able to fill it +up without delay or compunction.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I could not live like that!” said the Professor with a sigh. +“With me it must be all, or nothing! Leonora was my All. I could kill +her, but I could not replace her. Well! are you ready?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, when you are.” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo rose, and (Hannah having re-appeared with the hot water) +produced various pungent spices and gums, and with dried herbs and +other mysterious preparations from a drawer, commenced to separate +them into measured portions and to crumble them into a bowl. +</p> + +<p> +“What is all this about?” demanded Steinberg, who having lit his pipe +and got a tumbler of hot grog by his side, was disposed to view his +friend’s doings from a humorous point of view. +</p> + +<p> +“It would take too long to explain a mixture to you, which it has +taken me years to collect and assimilate,” said Ricardo, “but it is +the only potion that I have found really effectual—the only one that +has brought the spirits round me. Some of these essences and oils came +from India. An old friend of mine out there, took the trouble to +collect and preserve them for me, and others I have paid far more than +I can afford, for, but the result has been worth it all, as you shall +judge for yourself!” +</p> + +<p> +“But how, in the name of all that’s wonderful, can a few scents, +however potent, have the power to attract, or cause to be visible, +spirits of air?” demanded the Doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“You must tell me first what those spirits are composed of,” replied +the Professor. “You, as a medical man, know that our bodies are +composed of chemicals—it stands to reason therefore, that our +spiritual bodies are composed of the same, though varying from the +earthly ones, as they themselves do. When you can give me a list of +the chemicals, or essences, composing the spiritual part of ourselves, +I may be able to find out why certain decoctions attract them hither +and enable them to become visible to mortal sight. The fact is, +Steinberg, it is all a great Mystery, which perhaps we are not +intended to solve. But what is not a Mystery? Can you tell me that? +What are Birth and Death, but unfathomable Mysteries, that we shall +never know the meaning of, in this world? We accept them as ordinary +things, because we see them happen every day, but we know no more +about them—how they happen or how they are to be prevented—than you +know of this mixture, which is now ready to be set alight to.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come on, old friend, then,” replied the Doctor, as he led the way +into the séance chamber. +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo carried a lighted taper, and matches, which he was careful to +secure in his pocket, for it was like a vault they entered. The sombre +hangings which enveloped the apartment, shutting out both light and +air, and the musty smell which came from them, mingled with the stale +scent of the incense, made the place feel uncanny. Ricardo walked up +to the cushions on the floor, and told Steinberg to seat himself on +one of them. Having deposited himself beside him, and set alight to +the incense, he blew out the candle, and the wreathing smoke which +ascended from the bowl was the only illumination in the room. +</p> + +<p> +Steinberg began to feel uneasy, notwithstanding his vaunted +incredulity. The German nation is famous for its many tales and +legends of ghostly lore, and however our reason may seem to disprove +their authenticity, our faith is prone to cling to the truths which +have been instilled into our minds during childhood. +</p> + +<p> +As he watched the smoke curling up towards the ceiling, Steinberg felt +unusually cold—the little room seemed to fill with a chilly wind +which blew upon his face and hands—and the silence which his +companion maintained served to increase the gloom. +</p> + +<p> +“May we not talk?” he whispered, presently, to Ricardo. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, if you feel so inclined,” returned the Professor, “but for +myself, the occasion always seems so solemn, that I can only hold +commune with my own thoughts and think of—her!” +</p> + +<p> +“And you are not in the least alarmed?” inquired the Doctor, who had +felt his companion leaning very hard against his shoulder, as if for +confidence and support. +</p> + +<p> +“Not in the slightest. I am awed—but not frightened,” was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, then, do you lean so hard against me?” said Steinberg. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not touching you,” replied Ricardo, “I am too far away! I am not +seated on the cushion now, but in the centre of the room.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not seated on the cushion?” repeated Steinberg. “Then—in God’s +Name!—<i>who is?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“How can I tell? I have already said that I am not near you! Doubtless +one of the spirits who visit me, is anxious to convince you of his +identity. Speak to him, Steinberg! As yet, I have been unable to make +them speak to me! You may be more successful.” +</p> + +<p> +But the Doctor had already rolled off the cushion towards the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me out!” he cried, “I will not stay here a moment longer! I told +you when you first made this infamous proposal to me, that it was +diabolical!—that none but evil spirits could be induced to hold +communication with men. And this must have been a devil, I am sure of +it, else he would have had the decency to give me some warning, before +sitting down beside me. Open the door, Professor! I have been brought +up a Lutheran, and my Church forbids all such practices as these. I +refuse to stay in this room any longer!” +</p> + +<p> +“All right! It is all right!” said the Professor, as he drew the key +from his pocket and unlocked the door, “you are frightened, that is +all. I thought you would not be so brave when you came to see and feel +them. But how about it’s being all my imagination, eh, Doctor?” +</p> + +<p> +Karl Steinberg, restored to the light, felt that he cut rather a sorry +figure. His cheeks were blanched with terror, and his limbs shook from +the same cause. But he tried to laugh it off. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, confess, Professor, that you have been playing me a trick,” he +said, “it was you who came up and leant so hard against me, wasn’t it? +You thought you’d catch me tripping, you know, and put me in a blue +funk. But you haven’t succeeded, I’m as cool as a cucumber!” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo looked at him reproachfully. +</p> + +<p> +“You are wrong,” he replied, “and you know you are wrong! If it were +I, and you knew it, why didn’t you throw your arms round me? Why did +you insist upon leaving the room? And why do you look so blue about +the mouth and chin? Ah! no, my friend, you know it was not I, as well +as I do! And such a pity too! They were coming so beautifully. They +have never come so quickly before. You are just the man to help me. +Come now, come back for a little, and I will promise to sit close to +you all the while!” +</p> + +<p> +And he laid his hand on that of the Doctor, as he spoke. But Steinberg +pulled his vehemently away. +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! not for all the world,” he ejaculated, “I will not play with +the Devil any longer! You must conduct your diabolical practices by +yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you will acknowledge they are not fraud then—that there is +something to be frightened at?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will acknowledge nothing! I am not in a fit state to argue the +matter to-night. To-morrow, perhaps, I may be able to judge more +calmly. All that I can say is, that I refuse to enter that room +again.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I could only persuade you,” continued the Professor, “if you had +only waited a little while and watched the smoke from the bowl, you +would have seen such beautiful forms shaping themselves amongst it! +Women and little children like cherubs—sometimes I have sat up all +night unable to tear myself away from so beautiful a sight!” +</p> + +<p> +“All emissaries of the Evil One,” replied Steinberg, who was still +shaking from the scare he had received, “sent perhaps to lure you to +your destruction. Take care what you are about, Ricardo! Some morning +you may be found missing—dragged down to the Infernal Regions by +these demons, who assume the appearance of Angels of Light in order to +deceive you.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>The Infernal Regions!</i>” exclaimed the other, excitedly, “and what +would they signify to me, if I am never to see, nor speak, with my +Leonora more. Ah! Steinberg, I forget! You know nothing but the name +of this Love, which could turn Heaven into Hell without the presence +of the Beloved One, and vice vêrsa. Had you loved and lost as I have, +you would sit in that room, not a night, but every night, till you +heard some news of her who made your world.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” replied Steinberg, stolidly, “but you see, I haven’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you will try again, will you not? You will come when this first +alarm has subsided, and see if you cannot stand it better? I, too, +felt fear when first I sat alone and watched the spirits rise from the +incense I had lighted, with my own hands. But that has all gone! I am +as calm now as the dead themselves! And so will you be, if you will +only try again!” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Never!</i> Not for all the wealth of the Indies would I enter that +accursed room of my own free will, again. I am going, Ricardo! I don’t +feel well! I think the smell of the incense has upset me! Forgive me +for leaving you so soon, but I shall be better at home. Good-night!” +</p> + +<p> +He ran hastily down the stairs as he spoke, and the Professor, +ruminating on the little trust there is to be put in one’s friends in +time of need, retired sadly to his bed. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch03"> +CHAPTER III. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Signor Ricardo</span> passed a restless night. His disappointment preyed +upon his mind and robbed him of sleep. He had so long wished to ask +Steinberg to join him in his pursuit of Occultism—had so depended on +his assistance—and prophesied their mutual success—that the Doctor’s +abject terror at his first experience, had thrown cold water on all +his hopes. +</p> + +<p> +Leonora seemed further off than ever, and he groaned in spirit to +think she might be so near, and yet he was unable to communicate with +her, and ascertain if he had been right or wrong in the indulgence of +his revenge. Had his dead wife stood before him then, he would hardly +have known what he most desired to hear her say. If she declared her +innocence, his rash act had made him doubly guilty, yet if she +confessed that he had been right, she was lost to him for ever. +</p> + +<p> +But the Signor hardly thought of that—the burning truth was all he +wished to discover. The real fact being, that Leonora had been all and +much worse than he had ever believed her to be. She had been a +heartless coquette of the worst dye—vain, deceitful, and +self-seeking—caring nothing whom she wounded, so long as her +insatiate vanity was gratified—with no thought, so long as she gained +her cause, over whose dead bodies she trampled on her road to Victory. +She had been guilty with Lorenzo Centi, and half-a-dozen other men, +and the death-blow which her husband’s dagger gave her, was the very +smallest punishment which she deserved. +</p> + +<p> +Yet Ricardo was not satisfied. With Leonora, whom he had so fondly +worshipped, dead, his belief in her iniquity had died also, and all +his fear was, lest he had slain a woman who loved him as much as he +loved her. And he knew of no way by which his doubts could be laid to +rest, except by bringing her back from the grave to tell him the truth +with her own lips. +</p> + +<p> +As he lay in his narrow bed that night, he conjured the Almighty by +every petition he could think of, to permit her to return, if only for +a moment, and allay his bitter fears by one means or the other. But no +answer came to his prayer. No sound nor sight came out of the darkness +to afford him the consolation of knowing that his prayer had reached +the Throne. His Heavenly Father had deserted him; he was a child left +out in the darkness and the cold; left to find his way home by +himself. If he wandered from the beaten track, who could blame him? No +helping hand was stretched out to guide him; no light appeared in the +distance to show him the way; he must penetrate the Mysteries of +Nature by himself, and as best he could. Once or twice during that +long night, the Professor fancied he saw a faint, tremulous movement +of the curtains that hung round his bed—thought he heard a whisper +penetrate the air;—but he listened, and strained his eyes in +vain—nothing more rewarded his rapt attention. +</p> + +<p> +“Leonora! my beloved!” he said, in a low voice, as he sat up in bed, +and tried to pierce the gloom with his mortal vision; “Leonora! come +to me—speak to me! Tell me the truth! I will not be angry now! I know +we all have sinned, and you were but mortal like myself—only solve +these doubts. If you were innocent of wronging me—if that bitter blow +was a foul injury to your faith to me, I will bear the purgatory it +will bring me, thankfully, only to know that you are dwelling in the +Light of God! And if it was only an act of justice—if, in the heat of +your youth and carelessness, you were unfaithful to your marriage vow, +I forgive you, my Beloved,—I forgive you from my heart, and will tell +you so, as soon as we meet in another world. Only come to me, my +wife—only look at me! whisper one word of affection, and I shall live +and die, content!” +</p> + +<p> +So the poor lover and husband raved, only to be answered by silence +and gloom. Leonora was there! He felt it, but he had not sufficient +power by himself, to enable her to manifest her spiritual presence to +him. If Steinberg would not sit with him, he must find some one +else—for he could not stand the suspense and anxiety much longer. +</p> + +<p> +He tossed and turned in his bed until daylight, and rose with the +earliest dawn, worn and haggard, with the intention of walking in the +Park before he took his breakfast. It was seven o’clock as the +Professor turned out of the front door of his dingy lodgings—an +unprecedented thing on his part, for he usually sat up so late, that +he did not leave the house until his first lessons were due. As he +reached the lower passage, he found the front door open and the girl +Hannah cleaning the steps. Ricardo passed her with a bow, for he was a +most courteous man in his dealings with women, but Hannah’s head was +bent upon her work, and she did not see him. As Ricardo gained the +pavement he turned and looked at her. She was kneeling in the attitude +in which such work is done, and her slip-shod shoes which had half +fallen off, left her feet, encased in black worsted stockings, well +exposed to view. They were large feet, as has been said before, and +two holes in her stockings left the naked heels bare for the +admiration of the passers-by. The Professor stopped for a moment and +regarded those heels. They were not pretty perhaps, but they were rosy +and firm, and undeniably youthful, and somehow they inspired him with +a certain amount of compassion, to think that such young flesh should +have to bear its burden of life so soon. He stood as though transfixed +by the sight of those two rosy heels. No thought of lust, or even +admiration, entered his mind, which was far too sensitive and refined +for any feeling of the kind, but they excited his pity, and carried +him back somehow to the days when he, too, was young and innocent. He +felt as if he wanted to say something kind to the poor young girl who +had begun so early to drudge for others. The rosy heels, though only +seen through the ugly medium of a pair of ragged stockings, attracted +him as a callow nestling with gaping beak, or a little pink apple +hanging in an orchard might have done. He would have no desire to +possess the callow bird, and the idea of eating the sour apple would +have set his teeth on edge—yet they would have carried with them a +memory of the days when he would have enjoyed them both—and in this +light he felt drawn towards Hannah Stubbs as she scrubbed the front +door steps. He had a shilling in his pocket, and he stepped back to +give it to her. Perhaps a shilling might represent many things that +would give pleasure to the little household drudge—but as the +Professor drew near to her the second time, he perceived that Hannah +was crying and the tears were dropping on the flags she knelt upon, +and mingling with the hearth-stone. Tears in the eyes of a woman +always excited the Signor’s sympathy, and, forgetting the shilling, he +inquired eagerly why Hannah wept. +</p> + +<p> +The girl looked frightened at being detected in such an act of +self-indulgence. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s nothing, Sir—nothing!” she exclaimed, as she hastily rubbed her +eyes with her knuckles and smeared her face over with the +hearth-stone. +</p> + +<p> +“O! come, that cannot be quite true,” replied Ricardo, “I’m sure you +are not so foolish as to cry for nothing! Perhaps you have left your +friends for the first time, and are new to service, and it seems hard +to you. Is that so?” +</p> + +<p> +The girl seemed grateful for the enquiry. +</p> + +<p> +“It ain’t that, Sir,” she said, shaking her head. “In course I was +sorry to leave mother and father and the rest, but ’tain’t that as +makes me cry. We’ve all got to arn our bread, and mother said it was +time I was doing of something—and she will be so angry if I goes ’ome +again so soon—that she will!” and Hannah commenced to sob anew. +</p> + +<p> +“But why should you go, Hannah? Is not Mrs. Battleby satisfied with +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Sir, I’m afeared not, though I does all I can, but she’s angry +with me a’cause of the plates and dishes which they keeps slipping +about, but I’m as careful of them as I can be, Sir, and I can’t ’elp +the tables and chairs ’opping round the room—and whatever mother will +think I don’t know! She’ll say it’s such a disgrace, but it ain’t my +fault—Boo-hoo-hoo!” and here Hannah commenced to blubber afresh, till +the Professor began to fear that she would attract the attention of +the passers-by. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, look here, my good girl,” he said, “don’t cry, or you will make +Mrs. Battleby still more angry. The neighbours will think she has been +beating you. Listen to me! Mrs. Battleby’s a good soul, though rather +strict perhaps, but I’ve known her a long time, and if you’ll promise +me to dry your eyes, and be as careful as you can of the china, I’ll +speak to her on your behalf when I come back from business this +evening, and see if I cannot induce her to give you another trial.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure you’re mortal good, Sir,” said the girl, as she dug her +knuckles afresh into her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind the goodness! You do your work as well as ever you can, +to-day, and I’ll see what I can do for you on my return. What is your +other name, Hannah?” +</p> + +<p> +“Stubbs, Sir! I’m a Shropshire girl—was raised there, and never left +the village I was born in till mother sent me to Lunnon. Lor! how I +wish she ’adn’t! Father is that hard on me, and what they’ll say if +I’m sent back in disgrace—Mother and Joe and all—I’m sure I don’t +know!” +</p> + +<p> +“Who is Joe?” asked the Professor, kindly, “your brother?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Sir! My young man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your young man! So you have a young man of your own already! And why +did you come out to service, then, Hannah? Why did you not marry Joe +instead?” +</p> + +<p> +The girl gave a conscious grin as she replied: +</p> + +<p> +“<i>We</i> was willing enough, Sir, but mother wouldn’t hear on’t. She said +Joe hadn’t enough to keep hisself, let alone me, and that a few years’ +service would do me all the good in the world. But it seems ’ard for +to leave ’ome and all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, Hannah! I daresay your mother knows best, and the time +will pass quicker than you imagine. Any way I shall not forget to +speak for you to Mrs. Battleby, so good-morning!” And Ricardo went on +his way, smiling slightly to himself. +</p> + +<p> +Since the fatal night when his hand had sent the woman he loved best +to her last account, Ricardo had felt very tenderly towards all women, +for her sake. He was so dreadfully afraid of making another mistake +about them. He thought more of this shapeless, ungainly girl as he +took his walk in the Park, than he could have believed possible—not +of her ugliness, nor awkwardness, nor little troubles—but of those +mysterious wonderful eyes of which she did not seem conscious, but +which looked as if they saw that which was invisible to every one +else. How strange that such eyes—so the Professor thought—should be +set in so rough a face and figure; eyes, which the greatest beauty in +the land might have envied, combined with a shape which no decent +housemaid would have cared to exhibit. +</p> + +<p> +If Hannah’s eyes had not been so mystical in appearance, would the +Signor have borne her ordinary troubles so faithfully in mind, and +spoken with Mrs. Battleby about their alleviation on the first +opportunity? It is doubtful! Man, however supine, is apt to be led by +his fancy. Any way, when his landlady made her appearance with his +evening meal, he opened the subject at once. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Battleby, my good friend, I want to speak with you, on behalf of +your little maid, Hannah! How has she offended you? Is she very +stupid, very clumsy, very impertinent? Why do you propose to send her +back to her good mother, who will doubtless be unpleasantly +disappointed to see her again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Has Hannah presumed to complain of me to you, Sig-nor?” demanded the +landlady, becoming instantly stiff and rigid with indignation. +</p> + +<p> +“O! no, indeed, but I take interest in the troubles of the young. We +have all been young, Mrs. Battleby, and all been ignorant and wilful +and done silly things. I saw this young girl weeping this morning and +stopped to ask her the reason, and all she said was, that you intended +to send her home again and she feared her people would be very angry +with her.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you’ll excuse me taking a seat, for them stairs try my breath +dreadful,” said Mrs. Battleby, as she plumped herself down on one of +the Professor’s chairs, “I’ll tell you all about it. Send ’er ’ome +indeed! I should think I would, and it’s the last kind act I’ll do for +Mary Stubbs as long as I live. We was neighbours-like, Sig-nor, this +gal’s mother and I, and so when she arsked me to take ’er gal and give +’er a trial, I said ‘Yes’, never thinking, may the Lord forgive ’er, +as Mary Stubbs would ’ave put off a daft gal on me as trusted ’er.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is poor Hannah really daft, whatever that may mean?” asked Ricardo. +</p> + +<p> +“And that she is, Sig-nor, and ought to be in the Hidiot Hasylum, if +all had their doo. Why! she’s done nothing since she come here, but +’op about after the tables and chairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hop about after the tables and chairs?” echoed the Professor, with +open eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s God’s truth Sig-nor, and nothing else. I’ve seen the kitchen +table, which it must weigh ’alf a ton, waltz after that gal all over +the kitchen, and she’ll set the cups and saucers and glasses spinning +like tops. And then when I remonstrances with ’er, she’ll cry like a +ninny and say she’s not done nothing. The way in which she’s broke +china since she’s bin in this ’ouse is wicked. And I won’t stand it no +longer—that’s flat, for if she don’t do it, why, the Devil do, and +’ome she must go!” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Mrs. Battleby, one moment! I do not quite understand you. If +Hannah does not make the furniture dance, who does?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is what I want to know, Sig-nor! But ’ow the gal moves a heavy +table is beyond me. Nor ’ow she makes the glasses spin! But if I +remonstrances with ’er, as I said before, she do nothing but cry and +say ’tain’t ’er fault, which is all nonsense. And so back she goes to +Settlefield, as soon as I’ve got some one to take ’er place!” +</p> + +<p> +“It is very curious,” remarked the Professor, pensively, “and there +must be some solution of the problem. Do you think that Hannah would +make the table dance for me, Mrs. Battleby?” +</p> + +<p> +“Lor, Sig-nor! don’t you go a tempting of Providence! Let the gal and +’er tricks alone!” +</p> + +<p> +“But I am interested in what you have told me, from a scientific point +of view! There may be a reason for it all, and if so, I should like to +find it out. Would you have any objection to my seeing Hannah by +herself this evening, and questioning her on the subject?” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me, no, Sig-nor—not if you’ll take the trouble! But you won’t +get nothing for your pains. She’s just obstinate, that gal is, and +cries if you hold up your little finger at her!” +</p> + +<p> +“Does she suit you in other respects, Mrs. Battleby?” +</p> + +<p> +“O! she ain’t no better nor wuss than others. Them gals are all +alike—a set of sloppy, dirty, careless ’ussies, as don’t care if you +go to gaol next week all along of their breakages and lies. In course +you can interlude Hannah whenever you choose, Sig-nor. I’ll send ’er +up to clear as soon as you’ve ’ad your tea, and then you can ’ave a +talk with ’er. But you won’t make nothink out of it, them’s my words! +But that’s the Doctor’s knock, as sure as sure! Well! he is a good +friend to you, Sig-nor, and no mistake!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! I am glad he has come! I hardly expected him after last night,” +replied the Professor, who was quite excited at his new thoughts +regarding Hannah Stubbs. +</p> + +<p> +Karl Steinberg entered the room with an outstretched hand, as the +landlady curtsied and disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +“Forgive me, Ricardo!” he exclaimed; “I was a fool last night, and +worse than that, too great a coward to confess it! I was horribly +nervous and alarmed, but thinking the matter over has made me see the +folly of which I was guilty. But I am convinced, that if you were, as +you declared yourself to be (and I cannot doubt your word), in the +centre of the floor, there was some force ulterior to my own in that +little room last night, and I will not rest till I have found out the +truth. Will you re-admit me to your séances? Will you forgive my +first alarm, and let me pursue the study of the Occult with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Karl!” exclaimed Ricardo, heartily shaking his proffered +hand, “nothing would give me greater pleasure. But if we are to go in +for these researches together, and in earnest, we must try and think +of some plausible excuse for our spending our nights together, as I +find my landlady, Mrs. Battleby, is much opposed to anything that she +cannot understand. We have just been holding a conversation respecting +her maid-of-all-work, Hannah Stubbs.” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo then went into the subject of his talk with Mrs. Battleby at +some length, and was pleased to see the interest which it excited in +Doctor Steinberg. +</p> + +<p> +“Have the girl up by all means,” he said eagerly, “she may be what I +have heard you call a physical medium, and we may evolve great things +from her. She is countrified and stupid, you say! She probably in that +case knows nothing of her own powers, and is frightened at the effects +which she produces. I saw her last evening, did I not? She is just an +animal, with grand vitality and perhaps magnetism—with any amount of +bodily strength, and no brain. Have her up, Ricardo, by all means, and +let us see something of these mysterious powers of hers.” +</p> + +<p> +“If she will display them,” replied his friend, as he rang the bell. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah appeared, looking as stolid as before, but with a faint smile +for the gentleman who had promised to intercede for her. +</p> + +<p> +“Shut the door, Hannah, and sit down. I want to have a little talk +with you,” commenced the Professor, gently, “I have been having a few +words with Mrs. Battleby, and she says the only fault she has to find +with you is that you can make the chairs and tables dance. Will you +try and make them dance now, that my friend and I may see?” +</p> + +<p> +The girl looked startled and edged towards the wall as if she wished +to avoid contact with any of the furniture of the room. +</p> + +<p> +“O! no, Sir, please don’t arsk me,” she said in a scared voice, as she +glanced timidly in the direction of the tea-table, “ ’tain’t my fault +indeed, I’ve told the missus that over and over again. I don’t know +nothink about it, and I wish they wouldn’t come after me—I do +indeed!” +</p> + +<p> +All this while, with her skirts gathered up tightly in her hand, +Hannah was looking fearfully in the direction of the table, which now +commenced slowly, but perceptibly, to move towards her. +</p> + +<p> +“O! it’s a’coming,” she screamed. “O! stop it, Sir, do, for the Lord’s +sake! What do it want with me? I ain’t got nothing to say to it! O my! +O my!” +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the table had advanced to her until its edge was against her +body. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you see that, Steinberg?” observed Ricardo, “The furniture has +actually moved without contact. This is very marvellous!” +</p> + +<p> +“Go away! go away!” cried Hannah, as she kicked at the legs of the +table which was now pressing her against the wall. “O! Sir, please +don’t go to tell the missus, for it never was so bad as this +before—never!” +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove! look there!” exclaimed the Doctor, as a sound drew their +attention in another direction, and they turned to see the Professor’s +rocking chair, quietly rocking by itself in the corner of the room. +</p> + +<p> +“I never saw such a thing in my life before,” said Ricardo. +“Steinberg, this is a very wonderful girl. We must try to keep her to +ourselves, at all events until we have solved the reason of her +powers.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he turned to Hannah, who presented a ludicrous spectacle, +squeezed up in a corner of the room by the table, and crying loudly +without any means of drying her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop that noise, my dear girl, do!” he said. “Don’t be afraid! No one +shall hurt you, and you cannot suppose that a table could! But my +friend and I are very much interested in this strange power of yours, +and would like to see some more of it. I shall ask Mrs. Battleby to +let you come up here in the evenings when she does not require your +services, and we will see that you are rewarded for your trouble. You +are not afraid of Doctor Steinberg and me, are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“O! no, Sir—only afeared of the tables and things as will foller me +about whether I will or no! And it’s not the fust time as the beastly +things ’ave got me into trouble, neither!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! it’s not the first time, is it, Hannah?” inquired Steinberg, “and +what harm did they do you before, my girl!” +</p> + +<p> +“Harm enough,” replied Hannah, blubbering, “they parted my Joe and me! +His family was so nasty about it! They said they wouldn’t ’ave their +furniture broken for nothing, else maybe Joe and me could ’ave lived +along of ’is mother, and I’d never gone to service at all!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! never mind, Hannah! If Joe is a wise young man, he will come +after you and marry you, whether his tables dance or not. And, +meanwhile, my friend and I would like to see all that you can do!” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t do nothing, Sir!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then who is it that does it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! that I can’t tell you,—only that it’s always been the same with +me from a child! I’ve had many a beating for it! I often wish I’d been +dead afore they’ve come after me!” +</p> + +<p> +“What! the tables and chairs?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sir! and other things as well—shadders and the like, as come +round me of nights, and woices as talk to me. I ’ates them woices more +than anythink, for Mrs. Brushwood (that’s Joe’s mother, please, Sir), +it was all along of ’er ’earing one, one day, as made the rumpus +between us. And then mother said I must go to service and shake it +off. But they’ve been just as bad here as in Settlefield.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Hannah, will you take my advice?” said the Professor, “trust +yourself to the Doctor and me and we’ll cure you of this nonsense. +It’s all due to your health, you know!” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank ye, Sir, but I can’t take no pills, please! Mother, she’s tried +’em with me scores of times but they always sticks in my throat till I +retches ’em up again. Nor I can’t swaller jalap. It goes against my +stummick. But anything else, gentlemen——” +</p> + +<p> +“Be easy, Hannah, we will not ask you to take either pills, or jalap. +All we want is an hour or two of your time now and then! But I will +arrange all that with Mrs. Battleby.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch04"> +CHAPTER IV. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">As</span> the girl left the room, scrambling sideways, much after the +manner of a crab, and glancing behind her the while, as if she feared +the table might take a fancy to follow her downstairs, the two men +looked to each other and smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“I fancy you have lit on a gold mine there, Ricardo,” said the Doctor, +“there is something very marvellous about that girl. She must be a +well of magnetism. I never saw such an effect produced upon inanimate +objects before. Do you think there can be any trickery about it? These +brainless creatures are sometimes uncommonly cunning.” +</p> + +<p> +The Professor was leaning back in his chair thoughtfully, supporting +his chin on his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know <i>what</i> to think about it,” he said at length, “but I am +determined to see more of her powers. Now, the question is, what +excuse can we make to Mrs. Battleby for asking this girl to give us a +few hours of her time, every now and then.” +</p> + +<p> +“The landlady has seen something of it already, I think you told me, +and does not approve of the proceedings.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very strongly disapproves of them! Declares that Hannah must go back +to her people in the country—that she is a fool, or a cunning +trickster, or the Devil is in the whole concern.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I am much of Mrs. Battleby’s opinion,” remarked Steinberg. +</p> + +<p> +“What! that it is done by agency of the Devil? Nonsense! man, +nonsense! If the Devil was all that was required to produce such +marvels, we should all do the same. No! no! the girl is a medium—but +of what kind, I am as yet unable to determine.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell you what we can say,” interposed the Doctor, “if the +landlady is opposed to the girl’s practices, she will not be sorry to +have them cured. Tell her that I attribute the whole business to the +state of Hannah’s nerves—that she is a victim to what we call +hysteria—and that if she will allow me to treat her for the +complaint, I will undertake to cure her. And I say it with truth, +Ricardo, for should she be shamming, I will soon find it out, and +expose her; and should she be as you conclude, a medium, the exercise +of her powers will be a drain upon her system, and prevent the +exhibition of them elsewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe you are right, Steinberg, but where have you derived so +much knowledge about media and their powers, considering that until +this evening, you have refused to approach the subject of Spiritualism +at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have declined to join in the pursuit of it, my friend, you mean. +You cannot suppose that I have not heard, nor conceived some interest +in, a matter which half the world is talking of to-day. But what I +have read has predisposed me against it. I feel that it is fraught +with more danger than good. For a sensitive man like yourself, I am +sure it might, under certain circumstances, be <i>very</i> dangerous. That +is one reason that I have determined to join you in your studies. If +there is any fear of harm, I will share it with you. What you said +last night concerning your desire to open out a communication with +your late wife, set me thinking deeply. If you draw her spirit back to +earth, how can you tell that it will be for her good, or yours—how +can you tell, indeed, that it is her spirit or that of some wandering +Elemental (as you called them yesterday) who may take her shape? This +is the danger I would share with you! If, on the other hand, good and +pure spirits can return to earth, I am anxious to have the privilege +of speaking to them. Do you understand my motives now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly,” said the Professor, grasping his hand. “And now for Mrs. +Battleby.” +</p> + +<p> +But they found the landlady rather hard of conviction. In the first +place she did not believe the phenomena were due to anything but +Hannah’s “cussedness”, and if the gentlemen only knew as much of gals +as she did, they would think the same; “wants to shirk ’er work, +that’s what she do, and leave all the washin’ up and dirty work to ’er +missus”; and in the second, she did not see how she could afford to +spare her for two or three evenings a week, when there was more work +than they could get through together now. +</p> + +<p> +“What should I want to ’ave ’er cured for?” she demanded, “it’ll be +better and cheaper for me to send the ’ussy ’ome to ’er mother, who +ought to be ashamed for having sent ’er my way at all, than to keep +’er here, a’worritin’ me day and night, and spending ’alf ’er time up +with you gentlemen. Which I’m much obliged, I’m sure, and so Hannah +ought to be, for your kind intentions, but in my opinion, she ain’t +worth curing!” +</p> + +<p> +The Professor looked in despair at the Doctor, and Steinberg gallantly +came to the rescue. +</p> + +<p> +“You forget, my dear Mrs. Battleby,” he commenced softly, “that I, as +a medical man, take the greatest interest in a case like this. In +fact, it is not too much to say that I would pay a good deal to keep +Hannah Stubbs under my own eye for a few months. If you are determined +to part with her, of course there is nothing more to be said about it, +but I shall endeavour, in that case, to re-engage her for some of my +brother professionals. But I thought I might manage to see her here +and more conveniently, and benefit you a little into the bargain. +Now—supposing you agree to let Hannah remain under your protection, +what would be the cost of having in a woman to look after the house +during your possible absence, and do her work, every evening for a +couple of hours?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know, I’m sure, Sir,” replied the landlady with a sniff, for +she did not like the interest being excited by “that ’ussy Hannah”, +“there’s more things to be considered than the work. I may not care, +nor more I don’t, to ’ave a stranger a’messing over my property, and +a’picking up everything as she can lay ’er ’ands on whilst I’m away.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see!” replied the Doctor, thoughtfully, “then name your own +conditions, Mrs. Battleby, and I will see if I can agree to them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know as I have any conditions to name, Sir,” said the woman, +still more ruffled, “the gal’s my servant, and can’t leave me any’ow +under ’er month, and me without ’elp of any kind. But if you wants to +’ave ’er up here of an evening, and physic ’er and all that sort of +thing, why I don’t like to refuse a offer made in kindness, and +p’r’aps you wouldn’t consider as to pay ’er wages would be too much +compensation for all the trouble and ill-convenience it’ll put me to.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps not!” replied Steinberg, who had taken upon himself to be +spokesman on the occasion, “but what are her wages?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ten poun’ a year, and heverythink found!” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, look here, Mrs. Battleby,” continued the Doctor, “as this is a +case which promises to afford me some interest and to be +phenomenal——” +</p> + +<p> +“Lor! is it raly?” exclaimed the landlady. “I didn’t think the pore +gal was as bad as that!” +</p> + +<p> +“——I am willing to pay you ten shillings a week so long as we shall +require her services—I mean, until I shall have cured her complaint, +or pronounced it incurable! We doctors are always ready to pay for our +little fads, you know!” +</p> + +<p> +“And ’andsomely, too, I’m sure, Sir,” exclaimed Mrs. Battleby, now +wreathed in smiles at the prospect of getting her drudge for nothing, +“and I gives my full permission for Hannah to attend on you here +hevery evening, if so be you wishes it!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! no! thank you! Three times a week will be quite sufficient, if you +will give us the whole evening from after tea to supper. I am so often +with my friend Signor Ricardo, that it will be more convenient for me +to operate on her here, than at the hospital.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! lor, Sir, you’re never a’going to cut up the pore gal, sure-ly!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! indeed! Make your mind easy, Mrs. Battleby! I intend to treat +her by an entirely new process which, if I am not mistaken, will have +an almost immediate effect in preventing those nervous tremors which +seem to assail her.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! Sir, if you’ll cure ’er of them, I shall be thankful, for she must +shake like an aspen leaf. I found ’er in the kitchen jest now, +a’laying with ’er arms over the table trying to keep it down, and it +was bumping under ’er as if it ’ad gone mad!” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Electricity does wonders in these days, you know, Mrs. Battleby, +and I promise Hannah shall be quite herself again in a short time.” +</p> + +<p> +“And now, my dear Professor,” he said, as the landlady took her +departure, “having settled Mrs. Battleby, what means shall we try by +which to make the girl hold her tongue downstairs, about anything she +may see or hear whilst with us?” +</p> + +<p> +“These means,” replied Ricardo, as he chinked the loose coins in his +pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“They do not always answer,” said his friend, “and this seems a very +simple and innocent sort of girl, who might be terrified out of her +life if she guessed the real reason of our getting her to sit with us. +I think it would be better to persuade her that she has a species of +St. Vitus’s dance, and that it will get worse and worse unless I cure +it in time. I’ll tell her, too, that she must be a little worse before +she’s better, and, between the dread of being sent home again and the +dread of becoming incapacitated for work, I think we shall manage to +make her hold her tongue.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall leave that part of the business to you,” said Ricardo. “You +are more used to wheedle the ladies than I am. You doctors are +terrible fellows! You keep a dozen weapons in your pocket for +assuaging feminine fears, but I fancy you’ll have to use them all upon +poor Hannah.” +</p> + +<p> +The upshot proved that the Professor was right. The friends agreed to +meet again upon the following evening, when Hannah was summoned as +soon as she had cleared away their tea, and introduced to their +designs. +</p> + +<p> +At first the case seemed hopeless. Nothing would induce the girl to +permit her powers to be used as a proof of what she could do. She +declared that she was too much frightened of herself—that her one +desire was to prevent such incomprehensible things occurring—and that +she was sure, like Mrs. Battleby, that the Devil was in it, and +prepared to drag her down to destruction. +</p> + +<p> +Her tears and entreaties were pitiable to see and listen to, and for a +while, the men thought their endeavours had been in vain. But when she +was a little quieter, the Doctor took her in hand, and having +commenced his practice by the administration of a composing draught, +he explained to her, after his own fashion, that he and his friend +only meant kindness by her, and wanted to cure the very things of +which she complained. If she would place herself under their guidance, +he said, he would guarantee to send her back to her family, quite +cured of the annoyance she objected to. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah opened her beautiful eyes wide, and listened. To be cured meant +to be in favour again with Joe’s people, and perhaps to become Joe’s +wife much sooner than she anticipated. +</p> + +<p> +“But how can you cure me, Sir?” she asked, wonderingly. “It’s summat +in my fingers as makes the things dance! I don’t do nothing, Sir, I +assures you, and I ’ates it, I do, like cold pison.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you’ll be all the better pleased to get rid of it, Hannah,” he +replied, “but that is quite impossible unless you will give way to the +feeling at first, and let me see just how it acts. Now! don’t be +frightened when you see the articles approach you! The Professor and I +do not scream and run away. Stay by us, and let them do as they +choose!” +</p> + +<p> +“But I can’t, Sir,” cried the girl, breathlessly, as she attempted to +evade the close attentions of an arm-chair, “they frightens me out of +my wits. I wonder whatever I’ve done that dumb brutes won’t leave me +alone.” +</p> + +<p> +But though Hannah, with the assistance of her new friends, managed to +set all the furniture in the room spinning, without being more alarmed +than was evinced by her gasping and screaming and clutching either one +or other of them by the arm, nothing would induce her to enter the +séance room. As soon as the door was opened and she saw the black +funereal hangings, she gave a shriek, and fell backwards into the +Doctor’s arms. +</p> + +<p> +“In there?” she screamed, “but what for? I’ve never been in sich a +dark ’ole in all my life! And what do you want to do with me there? +Are you going to cut me up? O! Mrs. Battleby! Mrs. Battleby!” +</p> + +<p> +Her yells alarmed the two scientists, who feared all their plans would +be knocked on the head by an untimely irruption on the part of the +landlady. So they slammed the door to, and pulled Hannah into the +lighted room again, and tried to compose her by slapping her on the +back and addressing her with soothing words. +</p> + +<p> +The girl lay in the arm-chair in which they had placed her, seemingly +more dead than alive. Fearing that the shock had really injured her, +they were just about to call for help, when a gruff, manly voice spoke +at a distance of two or three feet above her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be fools! Leave her alone! She’ll go into the cabinet when I +tell her to do so.” +</p> + +<p> +The Professor and the Doctor looked around them in amazement. Who had +addressed them? The room was empty. Their faces now began to look +scared at this new Mystery, until Steinberg whispered to his friend, +</p> + +<p> +“She spoke to us last evening of ‘Voices.’ This must be one of them! I +am certain it did not emanate from her own lips. Ricardo, this is +better than I anticipated! Light is already breaking through the +darkness. Depend upon it, this girl has been a medium for years, +without knowing it, and we shall be the means of developing her occult +faculties. Let us interrogate our unknown ally. Are you a friend?” he +continued, addressing the invisible owner of the voice, “will you tell +us your name? Are we doing right? Will you help us in our researches?” +</p> + +<p> +But to these questions there came no reply. Hannah seemed to be +sleeping in the chair, but presently she rose to her feet and with a +deep sigh, as though she was doing something against her own +inclination, staggered into the dark séance room, and seated herself +upon the cushions. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall we follow her?” demanded Steinberg of Ricardo. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose so! I do not know what to think. This is a totally new +experience to me!” +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding they did follow the girl, whom they found apparently +sleeping on the floor, her figure being thrown across the cushions. +Something awed them to that extent, that they did not dare close the +door and shut out all the light, but left it slightly ajar, so that a +ray from the gas lamp was thrown like a bar of pale gold into the +gloomy room. +</p> + +<p> +Then they crept up to Hannah’s side, expecting they knew not what, and +bent over her prostrate form. +</p> + +<p> +“What will happen next?” said Steinberg. +</p> + +<p> +“We must wait and see!” replied Ricardo. +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t have to wait long!” exclaimed the same voice which had +addressed them before, “didn’t I tell you that when I chose the medium +would enter the séance room?” +</p> + +<p> +“She <i>is</i> a medium, then?” said the Professor. +</p> + +<p> +“Rather! One of the finest mediums this world has ever produced. But +you must be careful how you use her! She will assimilate with any +spirit that possesses her!” +</p> + +<p> +“Are we doing right?” demanded the Doctor, “will our curiosity injure +this girl?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will take care that you do not injure her! That is what I am here +for.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“The guiding control of this medium.” +</p> + +<p> +“I mean, who were you, when you lived upon this earth? Or did you ever +live here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Did I ever live here? How do you suppose I found my way back if I had +never lived here? Of course I did. But as for your other question, I +don’t see that it is any concern of yours. I might deceive you so +easily, that I had better begin by telling you the truth, and that is +that I have no intention you shall know my real name. You can call me +James.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you tell us, then, why you come to us?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not come to you! I accompanied my medium. I led her to you. I +have long wished to place her suitably, and I think you will treat her +gently and use her well.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope we may. We are both much interested in the Science of +Spiritualism, and want to find out all about it. Do you think we shall +succeed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Everyone would succeed who put a great discovery for the good of +mankind in the first place, and their own selfish interests in the +second.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are our desires selfish?” +</p> + +<p> +“I fear they will become so, if you do not put a check upon them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Teach us how to pursue our inquiries,” said Steinberg. +</p> + +<p> +“Show me my Leonora!” cried the Professor. +</p> + +<p> +“There it begins, you see,” replied the Voice. “The second speaker +wants to see his wife again, never mind at what cost or risk to +others. Was I not right in saying your desires would become selfish? +It has not taken long either!” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Spirit (if you are a Spirit),” exclaimed Ricardo, “you must read +my thoughts and know what prompted my request. Surely nothing could be +more innocent than the desire of a husband to see his wife again?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not sure of that!” replied the Voice, “however, if you +persevere, I have no doubt that your wish will be gratified. It is +impossible to credit what would occur, if people would only have the +patience to wait for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I could have the patience to wait for ages if necessary,” said the +poor Professor. +</p> + +<p> +“You will not have to wait so long as that,” said the Voice, “she is +nearer to you than you think.” +</p> + +<p> +Whilst Ricardo remained silent under this unexpected joy, Steinberg +put a few questions to the influence that was controlling the medium. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you answer me a few questions, James?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly! If I am able.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you speaking to us in your own voice—I mean, have you a throat +with gullet and larynx fully formed of your own?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! I am talking now through the medium, that is, I am using her +vocal organs—perhaps you perceive the difference in my voice. When I +spoke to you in the other room, I had materialised a gullet and larynx +of my own, but I could not sustain a lengthened conversation through +them!” +</p> + +<p> +“Will Hannah know what has happened to her, when she awakes?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, and I beg you will not tell her. She is very ignorant and simple, +and the effect might be harmful. Let her believe that she has merely +been to sleep. And now I have used her long enough for the first time +and had better go. Do not try to rouse her. Let her wake of herself. +She will be hysterical, but the Doctor will know how to deal with +that. Good evening!” +</p> + +<p> +And here the Voice ceased. Though they addressed it several times, no +sound or sign of any kind came through Hannah. She slept on like an +infant, while the two men whispered to one another. +</p> + +<p> +“Wonderful! Marvellous! I could not have believed such a thing, unless +I had heard it myself! What a grand prospect lies before us! How glad +I am, Ricardo, that I overcame my cowardly fears, and agreed to join +you in searching out these mysteries!” +</p> + +<p> +“The Voice said that Leonora was near me! I feel sure that before long +I shall see her again, and all my cruel doubts will be set at rest,” +said Ricardo, with suppressed emotion. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! yes! never fear. We shall see all who have preceded us!” replied +Steinberg, “and through the agency of this uncouth, barbaric girl. It +is almost too wonderful for belief.” +</p> + +<p> +At this juncture, Hannah roused herself, and gave a shriek at feeling +the darkness by which she was surrounded. +</p> + +<p> +“O! lor! O! my! Where am I? O! wot is all this about? O! wot ’ave you +bin a’doing of with me? O! please, Sirs, take me out of this ’ole, for +if there is one thing which I can’t a’bear, it is to be in the dark. +It’s ’orrible!” +</p> + +<p> +She struggled to her feet and stumbling to the door, threw it wide +open, admitting a full light into the séance chamber. Then she +glanced round at the black hangings and with another violent shriek, +rushed helter-skelter into the adjoining apartment, and fell into a +chair, kicking her huge feet against the floor in a kind of Devil’s +tattoo. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear girl! my dear Hannah! pray compose yourself! Nothing is +wrong,” exclaimed the Professor, as he patted her kindly on the head. +“You’ve had a nice little sleep. The Doctor gave you some medicine for +the purpose, because he thought it would do you good. You’d rather go +to sleep for a little while than take bitter physic, wouldn’t you, +Hannah?” +</p> + +<p> +“P’r’aps Sir, but I do feel so queer-like, as if my legs was all +bruised. And my eyes seems weighted, as if I had lead on ’em. It’s a +rummy sorter sleep I’ve had, and I think I’ll go downstairs and git +into bed, for I’ve got no use of my legs at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good-night, Hannah! You won’t mind the Doctor’s medicine so much next +time, will you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure I don’t know, Sir!” said the girl drowsily, as she passed +the threshold, but the next minute she had started backwards with +another scream. +</p> + +<p> +“Why! what’s the matter now?” cried the men simultaneously. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah was standing near the door with her hand pressed against her +heart. +</p> + +<p> +“O! lawks! there’s a lady standing on the landing a’waiting for +me—sich a ’ansome lady, with a voil”—(so Hannah pronounced +“veil”)—“over her face. O! lor! I shall never be able to git to bed +to-night!” +</p> + +<p> +“A lady!” exclaimed Ricardo, eagerly, “what was she like, Hannah?” +</p> + +<p> +“O! I’m sure I don’t know,” replied the girl, testily, “I only wish +she wouldn’t come bothering me like that, jist when I was a’going to +my bed. No! I don’t know nuffin about her, Sir, nor don’t want to +either, a nasty black-eyed creetur, with a beastly voil. Here! let me +go, please, Sir, or I’ll never git downstairs to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +And so she left the mystified men to themselves. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch05"> +CHAPTER V. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">The</span> Professor and the Doctor sat up late that night, talking over +the wonders they had experienced. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you believe that the spirits of the dead can return to earth +<i>now?</i>” demanded Ricardo of his friend. +</p> + +<p> +“I am hardly prepared to answer you,” replied Steinberg. “Certainly, +the Voice we heard to-night was very marvellous. I am persuaded that, +in normal circumstances, such a gruff, bass voice could not proceed +from the chest of a woman. But there have been abnormal cases of the +kind, therefore it is not impossible!” +</p> + +<p> +“Good Heavens! Do you mean to suggest that this girl is tricking us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not exactly. We have had no proofs of it, still, in an investigation +of this sort, one needs to be very careful. We must try and think of +some test by which we should render it impossible for Hannah to speak +whilst under trance.” +</p> + +<p> +“That will be difficult!” said Ricardo. +</p> + +<p> +“But feasible,” replied his companion, “if necessary, we must apply a +gag whilst she is unconscious. Nothing short of that, or something +equally efficacious, will make me give undoubted testimony to the +honesty of her mediumship.” +</p> + +<p> +“My books tell me that such stringent tests are very apt to prevent +all spiritual manifestations whatever,” said the Professor, with a +sigh. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I should not believe in the manifestations, Ricardo! True spirit +intercourse could not possibly be prevented by earthly means. Have we +not heard of a heavy table with people seated on it, being lifted by +invisible force, and transported to another part of the room? If +spirits can accomplish that, they can speak through a gag. Did not +‘James’ tell us that, when we first heard him, he was speaking with a +materialised gullet and thorax? If he will speak through them again if +only a couple of words, whilst Hannah is gagged, I will not doubt her +honesty. But in any circumstances, it is wonderful—wonderful!” +</p> + +<p> +The two men were so anxious to pursue their researches, that they +would have gladly asked for Hannah’s services on the following day, +but were afraid of raising Mrs. Battleby’s suspicions by displaying +too much eagerness to effect her cure. On the third evening, however, +the landlady was all smiles and assurances that the girl was ready to +wait upon them, but when the time came for her appearance Hannah +Stubbs was nowhere to be found. Mrs. Battleby screamed her name from +basement to attic, but neither sight nor sound rewarded her assiduity. +The Professor and the Doctor had begun to fear lest their medium +should have run away from them altogether, when Mrs. Battleby +discovered her in her own bedroom, which was next the cellar, with her +head wrapped up in the bedclothes, lest she should hear them calling +for her. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, of all the ungrateful, bad-natured ’ussies as ever I see, if +you’re not the wust,” cried the landlady, as she seized hold of her +arm and wrenched her from under the bedclothes. “Wot right ’ave you, I +should like to know, to go to bed at this time of day, and not a +single cup nor saucer washed up yet? Do you think I keep you to look +at, you ugly, squab-faced creetur? Get up do, at once, and don’t keep +the gentlemen waiting a minute longer!” +</p> + +<p> +But Hannah was sullen. She only shook herself free of Mrs. Battleby’s +grasp, and sat on the side of the bed, with her lips stuck out like +those of a negress. +</p> + +<p> +“Now then,” exclaimed her mistress, “wot’s this for, I’d like to know! +If the Doctor is good enough to try and cure you (which I’m sure, I +wonders he takes the trouble to do it), the least thing you can do in +return, is to be grateful.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! then, I ain’t,” replied the girl, “I’d rather wash up dishes or +scrub floors a ’undred times over, than be physicked. I never could +abear it! It give me a ’eadache last time, and I don’t want no more of +it.” +</p> + +<p> +But Mrs. Battleby had become reconciled to the arrangement, and had no +intention of breaking it. She found that she got quite as much work +out of Hannah as before, and she was not going to let the chance of +keeping her at the Professor’s expense, slip. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! then,” she commenced, “you’ll do as you’re told, Hannah Stubbs, +or back you goes to Settlefield to-morrer, and with sich a character +at your back as you won’t easy get rid of! You’ll please to remember +that whilst you’re here you’re my servant, and bound to do my bidding, +and I orders you to smooth your ’air, and go up to the gentlemen at +onst, as they’re ready and waiting for you.” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah burst into tears and muttered something about not having come +out to service to be cut up, or pisened, just as the missus chose, but +she crawled upstairs after a while, all the same, and presented +herself at the door of the Professor’s room, where she clung to the +lintel as if she dared advance no further. +</p> + +<p> +“Good evening, my dear,” said the Professor, kindly, “you are rather +late. Did not you remember that you were to see Doctor Steinberg again +to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want to be doctored,” said the girl, in the same tone she had +used downstairs, “it don’t do me no good, it makes me wuss!” +</p> + +<p> +“You have not tried it long enough to know if it will do you any +good,” replied Steinberg. +</p> + +<p> +“And what do you mean by its making you worse?” interposed Ricardo, +“how can it make you worse, Hannah?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, it do, a deal,” said the girl. “I’ve been worritted out +of my life since I been here, night afore last. That there lady as I +met on the stairs has follered me like my shadder. She ain’t no good, +I know, and she gives me the creeps, and if that’s wot the physic’s +going to do for me, I’d rayther leave it alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! no! it was not the medicine,” said the Doctor, quickly. “You +would have been much worse without it, Hannah! The lady and everybody +who worries you will soon disappear, if you will go on with my cure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come in and sit down, and tell us all about the lady,” exclaimed +Ricardo, eagerly. “There’s plenty of nice hot tea left in the teapot, +and here is some buttered cake! Sit down beside me, Hannah, and have +some tea, and whilst you are taking it, we will hear all about this +tiresome lady.” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah’s eyes looked greedy, and her big mouth commenced to work in +anticipation. She was thoroughly sensual, and the good things before +her appealed to her senses much more than the honour of being asked to +take a chair in the presence of gentlemen. +</p> + +<p> +She sidled into a seat next the Professor, and having drunk a large +cup of tea, found her tongue and her presence of mind, simultaneously. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! Sir, it’s this way,” she commenced, “I’ve been in the ’abit, as +I told you and this gennelman, of seeing shadders, and ’earing woices +and sich-like ever since I was a kiddy, but I don’t dare say nothing +about them at ’ome, cos they do go on so dreadful about it, I’m quite +afeared on ’em. But I haven’t often seen ’em so distinct-like as since +I’ve been ’ere, and they scare me mortal. The other evening I seen +that lady I spoke of, on the landing, and blest if she ain’t been to +my bed each night since, and looking at me terrible with ’er big, +black eyes through ’er voil.” +</p> + +<p> +“Big, black eyes,” reiterated the Professor. “O! Hannah! do try to +remember what she was like!” +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t no cause to remember, Sir,” replied the girl, “she’s scared +me too much for that! I only wishes as I could forget ’er. She is a +tall lady, and foreign looking, summat like an Injun with a white +skin. She’s got big, black eyes as look you through and through, and a +thin nose, pointed-like, and little white ’ands, O! so small, and long +black ’air ’anging down ’er back, and plaited in a tail. There was a +white voil over her face and ’ead, but I could see ’er quite plain +under it.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what age—how old should you say she was, Hannah?” asked the +Professor, breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Sir, I ain’t good at ages, but somwheres between twenty-five +and thirty, I should say she was. She ain’t old anyways, nor yet so +very young, neither!” +</p> + +<p> +“My God!” cried Ricardo, as he bent his face over his hands. “It is +she—it is my Leonora!” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish she’d come to you, Sir, then, instead of me!” said Hannah, +stolidly, with her mouth full of buttered crumpet. +</p> + +<p> +“Ricardo!” exclaimed Steinberg, laying his hand on the shoulder of his +friend. “Calm yourself! Do not be too sanguine! This may be a wrong +description, or if correct, that of another person. Remember, that any +unusual anxiety to see any particular person, is more apt to mar than +to promote your desire.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! yes! I know, but to think she may be so near me!” +</p> + +<p> +“She has probably, if your own theories are correct, been always near +you, though you have been unable to discern it. We must expect this +girl to see a great deal more than we can ever hope to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt, but the description is so like! Those little white hands! +how well I recall them, and the piercing, black eyes. Hannah! did this +lady say nothing to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! Sir, nuffin, she only stood there, pointing up to ’eaven with ’er +’and. Leastways she might ’ave been a’pointing to the hattics, but it +was uppards any ’ow. But I didn’t see no more of ’er than I could +’elp, for I screamed so loud and ’id myself under the bedclothes, and +the next time I looked, she was gone. ‘Thank Goodness!’ said I.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be afraid of her, she will not hurt you,” said the Professor, +earnestly, “she was a friend of mine, Hannah—a dear friend, and the +next time you see her, if you will only speak to her and ask her name, +I will give you half a sovereign.” +</p> + +<p> +“ ’Alf a suvvering,” repeated Hannah, wonderingly, “well, I should like +to ’ave that, I must say, but I can’t do it, Sir,”—shaking her +head—“not for a bag of gold, I couldn’t. I don’t mind a’coming up +here to be physicked by the Doctor, for the missus says if I don’t, +she’ll send me ’ome—but to talk to sperrits and sich-like I can’t. +I’ve never done it, a’cause I’m afeared they’re the Devil, and I can’t +begin it now. I should think they would carry me away if I did!” +</p> + +<p> +“Still the same old theory,” said Steinberg to Ricardo, in French, +“with rich and poor, wise and ignorant—that the Devil is at the +bottom of everything that promises to let in a little light upon the +other world. Ricardo, if nothing else prompted me to go on with this +inquiry, it would be the hope of finding out if there is a Devil at +all, or whether the evil in our own natures is not sufficient to do +all the mischief in this world, that is attributed to him!” +</p> + +<p> +During this short colloquy, Hannah Stubbs had displayed no curiosity +by look or word, to learn what was going on, but as Steinberg +concluded, she said, +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose, Sir, as you’ve been putting some of your physic in my tea, +for I feel uncommon sleepy, jest as I did the other night.” +</p> + +<p> +The Professor seized upon the opportunity. +</p> + +<p> +“We thought it would be less unpleasant for you to take in that way, +Hannah,” he commenced, but he spoke to an unconscious hearer. The girl +was already lying back in her chair, without sense or motion. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +Steinberg hastened to lower the gas. +</p> + +<p> +“How quickly she has gone off to-night,” he remarked, “I wonder if +this is Leonora’s doing!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! it is not Leonora’s doing,” echoed the Voice after him, “it is +mine! And now as you want a test, Mr. Doctor, as to whether I speak +through the medium’s organs, or she speaks for me, please fill half a +tumbler with water and pour it into her mouth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pour it into her mouth!” exclaimed Steinberg, “but I may choke her!” +</p> + +<p> +“Just do as you’re told,” said “James,” “and leave the consequences to +me! We’re better doctors than you are, in the Spiritual world. We know +what we’re about and don’t go by guessing. Now, where’s the water?” +</p> + +<p> +Thus adjured, Ricardo fetched a tumbler of water from the adjoining +room and emptied half the contents into Hannah’s mouth. She did not +seem to resist the action. Her mouth was like a carved piece of +marble. The fluid filled it, but did not attempt to pass down the +throat. +</p> + +<p> +As the operation was finished, she closed her lips again with a sigh. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that’s a strong test,” remarked Steinberg. “If any voice speaks +now, it certainly cannot be that of the medium.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! you think that, do you?” almost immediately exclaimed the Voice, +which they now called “James”, “well, then, who am I?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is just what we are trying to find out, James,” replied Ricardo. +“You are certainly not a mortal. Are you the spirit of a dead person, +or an emissary of the Devil? Tell us the truth.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am certainly not an emissary of the Devil, who never existed except +in your own bad thoughts,” replied James. “When people do wrong, they +say they were tempted of the Devil. That’s only an excuse for not +confessing that they tempted themselves. But I’ve never seen the +Devil, nor seen anybody who has seen him, so I can’t tell you anything +about that. And I am not the spirit of a dead person, for the good +reason that there are no dead persons. Everybody is alive for +evermore, and the only ‘dead ’uns’ are the poor bigotted ignorant +fools who are content to believe any fable that is told them, and +never to find out the truth for themselves.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you must not call us ‘dead ’uns,’ James, for we are only too +anxious to find out everything about the next World, and are ready to +believe all that you can teach us!” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all very fine, but it’s not my mission to teach you, even if I +could! But I’ve had no opportunities yet of learning even as much as +you have. You’re educated gentlemen, as can read books for yourselves, +but I was only a poor costermonger, as could neither read nor write +whilst on earth, and had to begin at A.B.C. when I came over here.” +</p> + +<p> +“You speak better than most costermongers,” observed Steinberg. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I do! Didn’t I say I had everything to learn when I came to +this world. If you took a costermonger in hand and taught him how to +speak, he’d take after your pronunciation, wouldn’t he? That’s what I +did. It was a gentleman bred that taught me. I guess he hadn’t done as +much as he might for his fellow-creatures when he was here, so they +put him on to my little job.” +</p> + +<p> +“And why have you come to us then, James?” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t I tell you the other night, that I <i>hadn’t</i> come for you. I +came with this medium. I’ve been attached to her for several years +past.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you know her on earth?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! I passed over years before she was born.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why did you attach yourself to her then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I was told to do so. Things are very different here from what +you earth-people expect. You do pretty much as you choose in this +world, but you’ll have to obey when you pass over. I was told off to +control this girl I suppose, because she’s likely to encounter the +same sort of troubles as I did. Any way I’m here, and now I must go! +Light the gas and turn the water out of her mouth, that you may be +convinced she is not a fraud, and then lower it again and sit round +the table in the dark, and I’ll see if I can show you something.” +</p> + +<p> +The Voice ceased, and the men doing as they were desired, were +astonished to receive back the half tumbler of water from Hannah’s +mouth, just as they had placed it there. Steinberg could not conceal +his surprise. He sat gazing at the fluid as if it had been some sacred +water brought from Jordan or Bethsaida, to cleanse him from his sins. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! I couldn’t have believed it possible unless I had seen it with +my own eyes,” he exclaimed. “Ricardo, this is the most wonderful, +incomprehensible, astonishing——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! my dear friend, but let us lower the light, now, and talk of +these things afterwards. James has promised we shall see something! +Supposing it should be my Leonora!” +</p> + +<p> +Steinberg turned off the gas altogether, and sat mute as a mouse, till +something should arise from the darkness. Presently, the two friends +perceived a bluish mist, like the smoke from a cigarette, rise from +the other side of the table, and hover between the ceiling and the +floor. +</p> + +<p> +“It is my wife, I am sure of it!” said the Professor in an agitated +whisper, to the Doctor, “can’t you see the long white veil which +Hannah described to us, and which she was so often in the habit of +wearing. Wait a moment and we shall see her beautiful face peeping +through the mist. How gracefully it rises—just like the swaying +figure of a slender woman, such as she was! And now, cannot you see +two eyes forming in the cloud—Leonora! my Beloved, speak to me, show +yourself to me! O! I am as certain as I am of my own existence, that +it is she!” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot say that I see any features,” replied Steinberg, “but the +form is certainly moving, and coming nearer to us! How cold the room +seems to have suddenly become! My hands are like ice! What can be the +reason of it? Surely, not the presence of a gentle woman spirit!” +</p> + +<p> +“No!” returned the voice of James from out the darkness, “but perhaps +the presence of a gentle spirit man!!! It is I, after all, whom you +mistook for that which you are looking for. So do you mortals +continually deceive yourselves and bring the science of Spiritualism +into disrepute. It was <i>my</i> graceful figure which you saw floating in +mid air, but don’t be disheartened. Remember! if you can see a +costermonger, you can also see a Queen! There is no difference here, +of rank or sex! Good-night! The medium has had enough for this +evening! I am off! Light up the gas and let her come to herself.” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah did not seem to be half so frightened this time as she had been +on the first occasion, and, after a few yawns, said she was all right +and felt much refreshed by the sleep the Doctor’s physic had given +her. +</p> + +<p> +“ ’Tis ever so much better nor jalap,” she said, grinning from ear to +ear, “and so be it brings Joe and I together agin, why, I don’t mind +’ow many evenin’s I comes up ’ere, and goes to sleep.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you and your young man quarrelled, then, Hannah?” demanded the +Professor. +</p> + +<p> +“Not exactly quarrelled, Sir, but we ain’t as we was, not by no manner +of means, and it has cut me up sorely. My mother, she wouldn’t keep +nothin’ to ’erself, but kep’ on tellin’ the neighbours as I see +wisions and things, and then Mrs. Brushwood, she cut up rough and says +as she wouldn’t have no ghosties nor sich-like about ’er ’ouse, and +Joe, he lives on ’is mother, so ’e can’t but side with ’er!” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor child! And so they turned you out of your home for a power which +is no fault of yours,” said Ricardo. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sir. Mother, she said I must go, an’ p’r’aps they’d forget it +arter a while. Mother was allays terrible angered if I said I had seen +anythink. But ’twarn’t my fault, for I ’ated it, and do so to this +day, and all I ’opes is, as the Doctor’s physic will cure me of seein’ +’em, so that I may go ’ome to mother and Joe. Good-night, Sir, and +thank ye kindly.” +</p> + +<p> +As the girl disappeared, Ricardo turned to Steinberg and said, +</p> + +<p> +“I have half a mind to give it all up, my friend, at all events with +this medium. I am afraid we are not doing right in deceiving her! She +is so simple she takes our word for everything, and all the while +instead of curing her, we are urging on the development of her +magnificent powers.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may well say ‘magnificent,’ ” replied the Doctor, “and if you give +them up, I shall call you a fool. Supposing she does not wish to be +developed, what of that, compared to the advancement of Science? She +is like an ignorant person who shrinks from having an operation +performed that will restore him to health and strength. Should I be +justified, because the patient did not understand the value of what I +was doing, in allowing him to have his own way and die? This young +woman has a splendid future. She may be the means of regenerating +mankind. Are we to let the interests of a Joe Brushwood, or her +supposed passion for her bucolic lover stand in her way? Certainly +not! For the sake of the world, you must not let her go. If you do, I +venture to say you will never get such another medium—such an +embodiment of animal health and vigour, combined with the psychic +forces which make such demands upon them. With Hannah Stubbs under our +own eyes, we may be the pioneers of a new Science. Without her we sink +down where we were before, into a slough of uncertainty and disbelief. +My dear friend, whatever you do, do not let your natural goodness of +heart lead you to throw away a grand chance, which may never be +renewed. Besides, do you not depend upon her offices, to restore your +lost wife to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! yes!” exclaimed Ricardo, “it is what I have been working and +studying for, for the last ten years. I cannot give up that hope, +whoever’s happiness stands in the way. We must raise Hannah Stubbs +above her low tastes, Steinberg! We must give her something better +instead—a love of the Unseen—an ambition to benefit her +fellow-creatures—a sense of the high duties to which she has been +called.” +</p> + +<p> +“True!—if we can,” replied the Doctor, thoughtfully; “but she is +terribly ignorant and gross. Fancy! a maid-of-all-work being called to +undertake a Mission—a creature without an idea beyond her breakfast +and her dinner—without an ambition, higher than to become the wife of +a farm labourer! It is enough to make one laugh, until one thinks with +what it is coupled—the Power, denied to so many, to pierce the +Infinite! She is as good and pure a girl as ever breathed, that I +fully believe—and she seems very docile and good-tempered—but she is +a hopeless clod!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! not hopeless,” exclaimed the Professor, quickly, “when once +she is sufficiently developed for good and high spirits to control +her, she must become refined and softened under their influence. If my +Leonora, for example, who came of one of the noblest families in +Italy, should speak through Hannah, the mere contact must intuitively +teach her much that she never knew before.” +</p> + +<p> +“I expect that your Leonora could teach Hannah much in every way,” +thought Doctor Steinberg to himself, but he did not say so to his +friend. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch06"> +CHAPTER VI. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Two</span> mornings after, Ricardo, whilst on his way to his professional +duties, met Mrs. Battleby on the staircase, with a very stiff lip. +</p> + +<p> +“May I make so bold as to ask, Sig-nor,” she commenced, “ ’ow long the +Doctor means to be a’curing Hannah Stubbs?” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo stopped short, looking much like a school boy detected in some +forbidden pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>How long?</i>” he stammered. “Really, Mrs. Battleby, that is a strange +question to put to me! How should I know? I am not a medical man, and +if I were, it is a thing on which I should find it impossible to speak +with certainty. A long time, Doctor Steinberg anticipates, I suppose, +since he offered to pay you for the investigation by the week. Surely, +you are not tired of your agreement already.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t say so, Sig-nor,” replied the landlady, with the same stiff +manner, “but Hannah Stubbs, she is a very young girl, placed under my +charge, as you may say, by ’er mother, and I think it is only proper +as I should know what sort of physic it is, as Doctor Steinberg is +a’treating ’er with!” +</p> + +<p> +The Professor actually trembled. Had this woman obtained any knowledge +of their proceedings, and was she about to draw back from her bargain, +and forbid the girl visiting them any more? +</p> + +<p> +“What a very strange lady you are!” he answered (Mrs. Battleby would +have flown in his face, had he called her a “woman”). “I know nothing +of medicines. How can I say if it be one thing or another? You must +ask the Doctor! But it seems to have done Hannah good already. You +should be satisfied with that!” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps I should be, if I were sure of it,” said Mrs. Battleby +oracularly, “but I ain’t sure. I was kep’ up late last night, and she +was sayin’ some very queer things in ’er sleep, as I didn’t quite +like! You gentlemen must be keerful what you do with a young gal like +Hannah, for she ain’t too strong in ’er ’ead, as any one can see.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course we will be—we are, very careful,” replied Ricardo, as he +shuffled down the stairs as quickly as he could. +</p> + +<p> +This unexpected interview with his landlady kept haunting him all day. +</p> + +<p> +Whilst he was attempting to instil the liquid Italian accents into the +ear of the high-born, but dull Lady Alethea De Ruben, his thoughts +were wandering back to Soho, and he was speculating what Mrs. Battleby +meant by her sudden interest in Hannah Stubbs, and whether she +intended to make a fuss about the girl visiting two men by herself, or +to try and strike a higher bargain for her services. +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo felt as if he were prepared to pay any price within his means, +sooner than part with Hannah Stubbs, before she had fulfilled his +dearest wishes, by bringing his dead wife back to him. Better a crust +of dry bread and a glass of water, he thought, than to lose the +knowledge which seemed just within his grasp. To know Leonora pure and +good, and that after years of purgatory he might be reunited to a +faithful wife—or to have the stain of innocent blood lifted from his +brow—the mark of Cain wiped out for ever! One of these two things it +must be, and he thirsted to ascertain which! He was so self-absorbed +and <i>distrait</i>, that even Lady Alethea perceived the difference in her +tutor and asked him kindly if he were ill. +</p> + +<p> +“O! nothing! nothing! only a slight headache, dear Lady Alethea,” he +murmured, as he made a violent effort to collect his wandering +thoughts, and fix them on the Italian grammar. +</p> + +<p> +On his way home that evening, he called for Karl Steinberg, and asked +him to walk back with him, whilst he confided his fears and asked what +steps they should take, to prevent such a calamity as the loss of +Hannah’s services. +</p> + +<p> +“It merely means,” replied the Doctor, “more money. Mrs. Battleby has +perceived the satisfaction we feel in Hannah’s society, and judges +wisely, that it does not all proceed from giving her medicine! My +friend! these women are too sharp for us! Their brains are very light, +but they make up for that deficiency by the cunning of the lower +animals. After all, when you come to consider it, why should we +interest ourselves because a maid-of-all-work is anæmic, hysterical? +Had we not better make a clean breast of it at once, and tell the good +woman what we do with Hannah during her evenings with us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not for the world,” cried the Professor, hastily, “the more ignorant +the mind, the more opposed it is to anything it cannot understand! We +should not only lose Mrs. Battleby’s patronage (if I may call her +concession by such a name), but Hannah’s also. For she would, of +course, tell the girl everything, and she would refuse to sit with us +any more.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see!” replied Steinberg, thoughtfully, “then my advice is to take +no notice whatever of Mrs. Battleby’s hints, which were probably only +thrown out in order to make you betray yourself. She is curious, my +dear friend—all women are—she fancies there must be something more +going on than the curative process, and thought to bully you into +telling her what it is. Keep your own counsel! She may suspect, but so +long as the door of your inner chamber is kept locked, she cannot find +out!” +</p> + +<p> +“How I wish I was rich enough to hire this girl as my own servant,” +observed Ricardo, “and defy Mrs. Battleby, or leave her lodgings +altogether! Then I would take a little house of my own, and people +might say what they liked!” +</p> + +<p> +“And what they liked would be, to spread a pretty tale of scandal +about you and this country girl. I, too, wish that I were rich enough +to settle her down in rooms of her own, where we could visit her at +stated periods, and hold our séances, but it is impossible! I can +only manage to support myself—much less another person. Attached to +the Hospital as I am, I have my lodgings free, but I fear my salary as +House surgeon would not go very far in an establishment of my own.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, Steinberg! We will not anticipate evil, but do as well as +we can with the means before us! This is our séance evening! From the +progress we have already made, I anticipate great things to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +They hastened their steps as he spoke, and in a short time, they found +themselves once more closeted with Hannah Stubbs. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Battleby was evidently very curious on that occasion, and very +unwilling to leave them alone. She brought up the tea-tray herself, +and took it down again, and insisted upon conducting Hannah to their +presence—a thing she had never done before. +</p> + +<p> +“ ’Ere is Hannah, gentlemen,” she commenced, as she shouldered the +red-cheeked maid into the room, “I’ve bin a’arsking ’er what the +physic as the Doctor gives ’er tastes like, and she can’t remember +nothink about it, but says as ’ow it allays makes ’er go to sleep, +which seems very cur’ous to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Steinberg having been in a measure prepared for an onslaught of this +kind, had primed himself with a list of names, unintelligible to the +landlady. +</p> + +<p> +“Hannah is perfectly right, Mrs. Battleby,” he said, gravely. “In +order to cure the very unusual form of hysteria to which she is +subject, I am compelled to treat her with Ilex aquifolium, Conium +maculatum, and Æthusa cynapium, which drugs, though most valuable in +themselves, always have the effect of producing a quiescent state in +the patient, after which they are unable to recall what has passed. +But I trust—more, I am sure—that my treatment will eventually dispel +her symptoms. But ‘Rome was not built in a day,’ Mrs. Battleby, as +doubtless you know well, and I warn you that to effect a complete cure +in this case, will take some time. That is why I proposed to recoup +you for the loss of her services.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! yes, Sir, I understand perfectly well,” replied Mrs. Battleby, +looking round the room the while, as though she would spy out the +truth of the Doctor’s specious argument. “But in course as I am sure +neither of you gentlemen won’t forget Hannah, she’s but a child as you +may say, and knows nothink of the world, and I ’opes you will be very +careful of ’er!” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, of course! You could not trust her to better hands than +those of my friend Doctor Steinberg,” said the Professor, as the +landlady was at last persuaded to leave them to themselves. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove!” exclaimed Steinberg in French, “I do believe the old woman +imagines we intend to seduce this poor child! Heavens! what an idea! +With all the beautiful women you see in Town, to fancy one ever +bestowing a thought in that way upon this ungainly, uncouth girl! Your +landlady is not so cute in this as in most things, Ricardo!” +</p> + +<p> +“I only hope she may not prove to be <i>too</i> cute,” replied his friend, +“I fear she smells a rat, as the English say—that is, that she has a +strong suspicion what we are about, and if that is so, she will put a +stop to it.” +</p> + +<p> +Their colloquy was interrupted by seeing Hannah suddenly leave her +seat and going to the séance chamber, pass in to the darkness beyond, +without a word, closing the door after her. +</p> + +<p> +“Why! what is she about, now? This is quite a new departure,” +exclaimed the Doctor, “shall we follow her, or remain here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think we had better remain here, and lower the gas,” said Ricardo, +“perhaps James will tell us what to do. Fancy! Hannah going into that +dark room of her own accord! She has refused even to look into it +before!” +</p> + +<p> +“She did not go of her own accord,” replied the Spirit Voice, “I sent +her. Lower the gas more. Leave only a glimmer! That’s right! Now open +the séance room door a little, and take your seats at the further end +of the room and wait! Some one is coming to see you to-night!” +</p> + +<p> +The two men did as was desired of them, whilst the Professor was +putting up an inward prayer that the “some one” who was coming, might +prove to be Leonora. +</p> + +<p> +“No! it isn’t,” answered the Voice, which now appeared to proceed from +the dark chamber which they thenceforth called the “cabinet”—“don’t +you be in such a hurry to see Leonora, Professor! You’ll have more +than enough of her, when she does come. It is not any one whom you +know, as far as I am aware, but it is not the medium. Mind that!” +</p> + +<p> +And then the Voice ceased, and for half an hour all was silence. Then +Steinberg, nudging the Professor, whispered, +</p> + +<p> +“What is that?” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo glanced towards the cabinet, and perceived a faint filmy +figure standing beside the half-opened door. +</p> + +<p> +“Can it be James?” he whispered back again. They were too much awed to +speak aloud. +</p> + +<p> +The figure shook its head. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you? Cannot you come nearer to us? Cannot you give us your +name?” urged Steinberg, and in his anxiety to learn more, he left his +seat and approached the cabinet. The figure instantly disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +“Forgive me!” he said, as he rejoined his friend, “I have stupidly +been the means of that figure disappearing. I ought not to have left +my chair, but my curiosity got the better of me. I hope it will come +again.” +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes’ patience was rewarded by the same apparition standing +in the doorway, and holding out, as it seemed, its hand toward the +Doctor. +</p> + +<p> +Steinberg, not daring to move again, stared through his glasses at the +outstretched arm, and then sinking suddenly towards the Professor, he +leant heavily upon his shoulder, and exclaimed, +</p> + +<p> +“My God! It is Mrs. Carlile!” +</p> + +<p> +“And who is Mrs. Carlile?” asked Ricardo, who had never heard the name +before. +</p> + +<p> +“A patient and friend of mine! She had her hand amputated—I performed +the operation under chloroform—and she never recovered from the +anæsthetic. Look! don’t you see her arm is without a hand! Good +Heavens! I never thought I should feel a thing like this! Have you any +brandy? Can you get it? I feel as though I should faint!” +</p> + +<p> +The figure had retreated again by this time and Ricardo procured +Steinberg what he asked for. As soon as he had drunk the stimulant, +his courage returned. +</p> + +<p> +“Come back!” he cried, “dear Mrs. Carlile, my poor friend, come back +and assure me of your forgiveness! Tell me that you know it was an +accident due to the chloroform. It made me so unhappy! I did not sleep +for weeks afterwards, thinking you might attribute your untimely death +to my negligence. Poor girl! It was a crushing blow to me at the +time.” +</p> + +<p> +The figure appeared for the third time, and waved its left hand and +nodded its head, and the Professor declared he distinctly saw it +smile. As for the Doctor, he was too prostrate for the moment to see +anything. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +They waited for some time after that, in hopes that the spirit of Mrs. +Carlile might return, but all was darkness. At last, just as they were +thinking of breaking up the séance, a white-robed form again made its +appearance on the threshold of the cabinet. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Carlile!” cried the Doctor, in a fervent voice, “speak to me! +Convince me of Immortality, and your forgiveness at one and the same +time.” +</p> + +<p> +But there was no response. The spirit, whoever it might be, could not +speak, but the head was turned towards the Professor. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps she could communicate better with you than with me!” said +Steinberg. “Speak to her, Ricardo, ask her to give me some +unmistakable token of her friendship and belief!” +</p> + +<p> +“Do not be afraid of us!” commenced Ricardo, in his gentle voice. “If +you are Mrs. Carlile, give my friend here some sign that you have +forgiven the past!” +</p> + +<p> +“That you are reconciled to your cruel fate,” interposed the Doctor, +“that you did not mourn too much at leaving your husband and your +infant children—that you know now that all things are ordered for the +best and by a Wiser Law than ours.” +</p> + +<p> +But the figure kept its head turned in the direction of the Professor. +At last, as though with a violent effort, it pronounced the word +“Paolo” and immediately disappeared. Ricardo sank on his knees in an +attitude of prayer. +</p> + +<p> +“Leonora!” he cried, “Leonora! I have found you at last.” +</p> + +<p> +Steinberg was about to address him, when they were startled by a +sudden and violent knocking at the outer door. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +“Who is that?” asked Steinberg, whilst he whispered to his friend, +“Calm yourself, Ricardo. Some one is asking for admittance. What is to +be done?” +</p> + +<p> +The Professor started to his feet. +</p> + +<p> +“They cannot—shall not—come in,” he exclaimed. “It is an outrage! I +gave strict orders that we were never to be disturbed. Tell them so, +Steinberg! And at such a moment, too!” he added, as he wiped the beads +of sweat from his brow. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is it? What do you want?” demanded the Doctor, of the intruder. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s me, Sir,” replied the voice of Mrs. Battleby, “which there’s a +lady downstairs as wants to see Hannah Stubbs most particular! Will +you please to open the door, Sir?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! Mrs. Battleby, I cannot! The lady must call another time! My +patient is asleep from the effects of the medicine I have given her, +and I cannot have her awakened. It might be dangerous!” +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t waken her, Sir, if you’ll kindly let me have a look at her, +so as I may tell the lady as I see her asleep with my own eyes!” +</p> + +<p> +“You must tell her so on my authority,” replied Steinberg, “I cannot +have Hannah disturbed on any account!” +</p> + +<p> +“What! not when I, as is her own mother’s friend, ask to look at her +for a moment as she is asleep. Well! all I can say, Sir, is that I +never ’eard tell of sich a thing—not in my borned days—and I can’t +believe as any gentleman as calls ’isself sich, would keep a pore gal +from ’er friends, when they arsks to see ’er.” +</p> + +<p> +“If the lady is a lady, she will not wish the girl to run the risk of +danger from being roused, as your loud talking is likely to do now,” +replied Steinberg, angrily, “and if you do not go away, or hold your +tongue, Mrs. Battleby, and any harm comes to my patient from your +intrusion, I shall report your behaviour to the Hospital authorities. +How do you suppose I can administer such drugs as Colium maculatum and +Æthusa cynapium, if the patient is to be disturbed whilst under their +influence. If Hannah Stubbs dies from your violence I will have you +indicted for man-slaughter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lawk-a-me!” exclaimed the landlady, as she stumbled down the stairs +again, “that would be a pretty thing to bring against Martha Battleby, +as never hurted a wurrum in ’er life! But I believe as you’re capable +of that, or any other villainy,” she continued, as she reached the +kitchen again. +</p> + +<p> +Needless to say that the lady, who was so desirous of interviewing +Hannah Stubbs, existed in her brain only, and that her sudden +irruption upon the “foreign gents” as she sometimes designated Ricardo +and his friend, had been induced solely from her intense curiosity to +find out what these nightly visitations on the part of her “slavey” +meant. +</p> + +<p> +“Which I don’t believe, Mrs. Blamey,” she confided to her crony, “as +it’s for the purpuss of curing that gal of her highstrikes, not if you +was to tell me ever so! They’ve got some designs on the pore gal, mark +my words! I never did think much of foreigners, for they’re a wicious, +immoral lot, as ’ow could you expect anythink else from a nation as +lives on frogs and sour wine. Not but what I ’olds the Sig-nor to be a +quiet, and respectable gentleman,—least-ways ’e ’ave been so +’itherto, but that there German doctor with ’is long ’air, and his +glasses, is enough to demoralise the best man living. We hadn’t +nothink of these evenin’s alone with gals on pertence of curin’ their +illnesses, before ’e came. The Sig-nor, ’e allays was a Mystery, and +I’ve said as much before,—but a gentleman as is a Mystery with ’is +books and ’is larning, is a very different thing from a gentleman as +is a Mystery with gals. Hannah Stubbs, she’s hignorant and hidle, but +she ain’t no more hill than you or me! We all ’ave our crosses in this +life, Mrs. Blamey, but we don’t go and sit alone with gents to cure +’em, and I don’t like it, and that’s the fact!” +</p> + +<p> +“And I don’t blame you for one, Mrs. Battleby, ma’am,” replied her +friend, “I never did like secret ways and never shall. Where there’s +secrets and mysteries, I says, there’s summat wrong. And how you could +have stood being locked out of your own room for so long, beats me! +It’s a puffect insult to a lady of your position, the mistress of her +own ’ouse, and left a widder with an independency, and though I’m only +an ’umble and down-trodden wife, <i>I</i> wouldn’t have stood it, not if I +entered under their very eyes!” +</p> + +<p> +“But it was a sort of agreement-like, Mrs. Blamey, as the Sig-nor was +to ’ave them three rooms to ’isself, and open or shut, they’re ’is. +And ’ow could I enter when he keeps the key in ’is pocket, night and +day.” +</p> + +<p> +“And ain’t there no other keys in the ’ouse as would fit that room, +Mrs. Battleby, ma’am?” insinuated Mrs. Blamey. “Couldn’t you try +anyways, or get another key fitted whilst the gentleman is hout, and +so look into it without his knowing nothink about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, so I could, to be sure!” exclaimed the other, “but I never +thought of trying yet. But it seems to me a plain duty, Mrs. Blamey, +to find out what they’re going to do with that there pore gal! Why! +’oo knows? that Doctor might be Jack the Ripper—which many said ’e +was a doctor—and going to cut up Hannah into bits. And whatever +should I say to ’er mother, which was my friend when we was little +gals together, if her daughter disappeared under my roof and wasn’t +never ’eard of again?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is your dooty, Mrs. Battleby, there’s no doubt of that, and if so +be you’re afeared to enter the room by yourself, why, I’ll go with you +as soon as look at you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bless you, Mrs. Blamey, I ain’t afeared, no more than of a black +beadle, but now you’ve put it straight afore me, I will find out what +them two is a’doing with that gal, as sure as my name’s Martha +Battleby! You never know what men are, till you find them out, and +though these look so respectable and dull, they may be villains for +all that. Keep a gal in the dark, indeed, and give ’er summat to make +’er go to sleep—I’ve ’eard summat like that afore, Mrs. Blamey, and +no good come of it! So if there ain’t a key in the ’ouse as will fit +that door, I’ll ’ave one made, afore I’m a day older. Good-night, and +if I discovers any of their willainies, you’ll be the first to ’ear of +it, you may depend on that!” +</p> + +<p> +Consequently, as soon as the Professor had departed on his round of +teaching the following morning, Mrs. Battleby sent Hannah on an +errand, and commenced her tour of inspection. As was to be expected, a +common house had common locks to the doors, and she soon found that +the key of her own bedroom proved an “Open Sesame” to the séance +chamber. +</p> + +<p> +On her first view of the interior, Mrs. Battleby screamed aloud, so +gloomy and funereal was its aspect. But when she had somewhat +recovered her nerve, its appearance inspired her with but one +notion——all this want of light and air meant the Devil, and nothing +else! They were practising Sorcery in this mysterious little chamber, +and had dragged the poor gal, with her dancing tables and chairs, and +her “shadders” and “woices” into it, with themselves. And yet, after +all, the landlady was not sufficiently sure to feel brave enough to +accuse her lodger of mal-practices. So she resolved to wait for the +next opportunity, and find out what she could for herself. She had the +resolution to hold her tongue about her intentions—not only to the +Professor, but to Hannah and her next-door neighbour, and when the +Signor’s door had been locked upon the succeeding séance, Mrs. +Battleby knelt outside in the darkness, with her ear applied to the +keyhole. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch07"> +CHAPTER VII. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">At</span> first she heard nothing but the ordinary salutations that passed +between the Professor and the serving-maid, but she was patient and +long-suffering in the cause of Curiosity, and after a while, she was +rewarded. Silence ensued;—next, furtive whisperings between the two +conspirators—then, a few words of awed surprise—and lastly, the +Victory! +</p> + +<p> +“Leonora!” she heard the Professor say, “Leonora! come to me!” +</p> + +<p> +“My gracious!” thought the landlady, “if they ain’t got another gal in +there! ’Oo’d ’ave thought it, and the Sig-nor looking so grave and +solemn the while? I was a green’orn to have believed as they would +’ave been satisfied with Hannah between the two. That’s the Doctor’s +doings, I’ll be bound! Them medicals are hup to heverythink. ’Ow did +’e smuggle the ’ussy in under my very eyes? In an ’amper, I suppose, +which no more comes into my ’ouse. And I, who ’ave tried so ’ard to +keep it quiet and respectable! I’ll ‘Nora’ them, when we meets again. +And as for that there Hannah, ’ome she goes to-morrer.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Battleby, having applied her ear again to the keyhole, and heard +Steinberg speak of “Mrs. Carlile,” and being convinced that the +villainies going on were not confined to unmarried girls, bundled +downstairs shaking with indignation, and began to seek industriously +for pen, ink and paper, wherewith to inscribe a letter to Mrs. Stubbs +of Settlefield. +</p> + +<p> +She was some time before she found what she sought, letter-writing not +being an every-day habit with her. At last, however, in a corner of +the kitchen dresser, she unearthed the penny bottle of ink, which had +remained there, without a cork, a couple of months, and been well +thickened by the addition of a dozen flies, and in a drawer of the +same article of furniture she discovered a steel pen with only one +nib, with which she scratched as with a pin, on a dirty half sheet of +paper, the following words, +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">Dear Mrs. Stubbs</span>, +</p> + +<p> +“If you will please to come to London tomorrer, and fetch ’ome your +daughter Hannah, I shall be obliged, as there is goings on hupstairs +wich I don’t approve of, and I’m afraid she ain’t no good with the +gentlemen. +</p> + +<p class="rt1 mt1"> +“Your loving friend,<br> +“<span class="sc">Martha Battleby.</span>” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +The consternation which this mysterious epistle caused in the cottage +home in Settlefield, may be better imagined than described. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Stubbs, who was a laundress, and trying hard, with the assistance +of her husband, to keep five or six hungry mouths full, was like many +ignorant country people, excessively stern upon a lapse from Virtue. +These brawny-armed daughters of the soil, who are spoilt for +love-making before they are five-and-twenty—who deteriorate in every +direction as soon as they become mothers, and remain like sacks of +meal for ever afterwards—are invariably unable to understand how any +women can be tempted to deviate from the straight and narrow path, +from which they have never had the opportunity to swerve by so much as +a hair’s breadth. +</p> + +<p> +When Mary Stubbs therefore received Martha Battleby’s letter and had +mastered its contents, she was more than angry with her recreant +daughter. +</p> + +<p> +“Look ’ere! John Stubbs,” she exclaimed, as she waved the epistle +towards her husband, with a hand immersed in soap suds; “just see what +your darter ’as been a’doin’ of! Gallivanting along with gentlemen, +which never did no gal any good yet, and she keeping company with Joe +Brushwood all the while. Let me git ’old of the ’ussy and I’ll kill +’er—see if I don’t. My family ’ave always been brought up honest and +respectable, and I won’t ’ave any light-a-loves among ’em. I’ll go up +to Lunnon by the fust train and give Miss Hannah sich a thrashing as +she never ’ad in ’er days before.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now! now!” replied Stubbs <i>père</i>, “be easy, my lass! The gal’s done +no ’arm as I can see! She’s a nice-looking gal, and the gennelmen ’ave +paid ’er a compliment or two, p’r’aps. And no wonder! They’re all the +same when they sees a nice, fresh country lass, a’bringing in their +tea, or what-not. Let it alone! The ould woman will write agen and +apologise in a day or two.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Let it alone!</i> you fool! What are you talking on? Let it alone, till +our Hannah comes back to us with a babby at ’er back, like Emily Marks +did last year! Will I let it alone? You wait and see,” cried Mrs. +Stubbs, as she energetically wiped her steaming arms and hands on a +coarse towel. “And there’s Joe Brushwood, too,” she continued, “I +wonders what <i>he’ll</i> say to Miss Hannah’s goings-on!” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure! you’d never go to make mischief atween the young people?” +exclaimed the father. +</p> + +<p> +“If anybody makes mischief it’ll be Hannah herself. You mind what she +left ’er ’ome for, father! She wouldn’t give up them devilries of +hern, not for Joe, nor me, nor no one, but went on talkin’ about +woices and shadders till she made me sick. I said I’d ’ave none of it +in <i>my</i> ’ouse, and so did Mrs. Brushwood, else Hannah might ’ave been +a married woman by this time and safe out of ’arm’s way. But no! she +wouldn’t, so I sent ’er to Lunnon to shake the nonsense out of ’er, +and this is my reward. She’s a’going to the bad! But she is my +lawfully begotten child, and I’ll murder ’er, but she shall give it +all up from this day,—gentlemen and shadders and woices, and the +whole bag-o’-tricks!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! well! I don’t say nothing against your going,” replied her +husband, who like many of his kind was terribly hen-pecked, and afraid +to interfere in any matter from fear of making it worse, “but take +young Joe along of you. He’ll look arter your traps, for you must stay +a night in Lunnon, I guess, and he’ll be powerfully persuasive with +the gal, and help you to bring ’er to ’er right senses, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! that be wise on you, father,” responded his wife, as she put on +her linen bonnet and went in search of her neighbour, Mrs. Brushwood. +</p> + +<p> +It was soon arranged that young Joe, Hannah’s sweetheart, should +accompany his prospective mother-in-law to Town, and convey the two +women safely back again to Settlefield. Joseph Brushwood, the younger, +was not a bad fellow for his station in life. His parents were +well-to-do farmers, and the young man’s prospects were as bright as he +had any right to expect. He was good-looking, too, in his countrified +fashion, with bold black eyes and a thick bush of curling hair, and a +ruddy complexion—a “follower” of whom any girl, like Hannah Stubbs, +might have been proud, and for having attracted whom, she was much +envied in the neighbourhood of Settlefield. But Joe had been brought +up “pious”, and stuck to the Bible as his rule in all perplexities of +life. He was like many other people in this world. He called himself a +Christian, yet possessed not one virtue of the Great Lover of mankind. +He did not regard the Almighty as a reality—he only knew Him through +the Bible. He never prayed from his heart, nor because he felt the +actual necessity of prayer. But he went to church every Sunday +afternoon, because he had been reared to consider it his duty. He sat +there, with his Sunday clothes on,—his dark hair well-oiled, and a +bright blue or crimson tie beneath his turned-down collar, and all the +young women thought how nice Joe Brushwood looked and wondered what he +could see in that stout, awkward Hannah Stubbs to take his fancy. And +Joe slumbered through the greater part of the service, and returned +home with the comfortable feeling that he had performed his weekly +duty, and was a pattern Christian. +</p> + +<p> +He was the sort of bucolic ignoramus, who would be more “down” upon +anything which was Greek to him, than any other man. He had no +humility, though he had a good deal of rough good humour. He was +flattered by Hannah’s undoubted affection for himself, but he did not +care enough for her to give up anything for her sake. +</p> + +<p> +He dressed himself in his smartest clothes to go to London with Mrs. +Stubbs, though she told him as little as she could of her errand. +</p> + +<p> +They arrived in Soho about five o’clock, and presented themselves at +Mrs. Battleby’s door. They were received by the landlady herself. +</p> + +<p> +“O! there, I <i>am</i> glad to see you!” she exclaimed; “come in, do, and +sit down and have your tea. Hannah has just gone on an errand for me, +but she’ll be back in a jiffey. O! Mrs. Stubbs, ma’am, she ’ave give +me sich a scare!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! I’m sure your letter give <i>me</i> a scare, Mrs. Battleby,” replied +the visitor, as she settled herself in a chair, “and me and this +gentleman, which he is my Hannah’s young man, started off as quick as +we could to ’ear the rights and wrongs of it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Lor! is this ’er sweetheart?” interposed Mrs. Battleby admiringly, +“well, she have an inducement to keep straight, if any gal on hearth +’ave!” +</p> + +<p> +Joe settled his collar and tie and looked conscious of the compliment, +as Mrs. Stubbs proceeded: +</p> + +<p> +“And keep straight she ’ave, I will take my solemn hoath of it, though +I’m her lawful mother.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lor! Mrs. Stubbs, you mustn’t take my words for more than meant,” +said Mrs. Battleby, as she placed the tea-tray in front of her guests, +“but Hannah, she do give me the squirms, there’s no denying of it, +what with her ghosties and her woices, and now these gentlemen—till +she’s a’most too much for me!” +</p> + +<p> +At the word “ghosties” Mrs. Stubbs put down her teacup, and said +solemnly, +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t mean for to go to tell me, Mrs. Battleby, as she’s seen +them shadders and things again!” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Seen ’em!</i> why, she’s allays on about ’em, till she makes my flesh +creep. But I wouldn’t have writ to you, Mrs. Stubbs, if it ’adn’t been +for the gentlemen upstairs—that is my hattic lodger Sig-nor Ricardo, +and ’is friend Doctor Steinberg—which they arsks for leave to cure +your gal of ’er seeing of things, which they calls highstrikes,—and +gets ’er upstairs of evenings to sit with them, under pertence of +physicking ’er, so the night before last I makes bold to listen at the +door to see what they was a’doing with the gal, and I ’eard—well, +Mrs. Stubbs, ma’am, I ’ardly likes to tell you <i>what</i> I ’eard!” +</p> + +<p> +“But you must, ma’am, but you must!” exclaimed the other, eagerly, +“I’ve come to Lunnon with this young man, a puppuss to ’ear all as you +can tell us!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! then, Mrs. Stubbs, I must tell you fust, as the Sig-nor kep’ +one of ’is rooms locked, night and day, but arter ’e got ’old, as I +may say, of Hannah, I considered it my dooty to see what they did for +myself, and I got another key fitted, and unlocked the door!” +</p> + +<p> +“Which you did right, Mrs. Battleby!” agreed Mrs. Stubbs. +</p> + +<p> +“And what did I find, but the ’ole room was hung with black +curtings—walls, floor and winder—and sich a ’orrid smell, something +between musk and cockroaches! Thinks I to myself, this ain’t for no +good, so I listens to them, as I says before, and it’s a mixture, Mrs. +Stubbs—a mixture of gals and Sorcery and Magic and the Devil, that’s +what it is, and I cannot ’ave it in my ’ouse. The Professor ’e must +go, and so must Hannah, though I’m sorry to say it of a daughter of +yours—but it’s right-down wickedness, and I won’t countenance it!” +</p> + +<p> +At this Joe Brushwood sprang to his feet. +</p> + +<p> +“I know what it is,” he exclaimed, fiercely. “Hannah’s been raising +them sperrits again, which she promised me to have no more to do with +’em, and if that’s the case, it’s all over between us, for I won’t +’ave a sorceress for a wife, to bewitch me half my time,—not if I +dies a bachelor!” +</p> + +<p> +“ ’Ush!” cried Mrs. Battleby, “ ’ere’s Hannah. Just put it to ’er, Mrs. +Stubbs, ’ow she’s been employing ’er time with the Sig-nor and ’is +friend, and judge for yourself!” +</p> + +<p> +In another moment Hannah entered the kitchen. She had been out for a +little walk and it had done her good. Her face was rosy and fresh and +beaming with smiles. On her arm she carried a market basket, but as +soon as she caught sight of her mother and Joe Brushwood, she threw it +on the ground and flew towards them, her eyes sparkling with delight. +</p> + +<p> +“Mother!” she cried rapturously; “ ’owever did you come ’ere. And Joe +too!”—more bashfully—“O! I <i>am</i> glad to see you both again. I cries +for ’ome every night afore I goes to sleep, mother!” +</p> + +<p> +She would have embraced her, but the elder woman thrust her away. +</p> + +<p> +“No! Hannah Stubbs, no!” she said, severely, as she glared at her +daughter, “not till you gives me a hexplanation of your doings in this +’ere ’ouse—likewise to Joe Brushwood, which we’re ’ere for that, and +nothink else.” +</p> + +<p> +The rosy colour faded from Hannah’s face, as she encountered her +mother’s angry glance. +</p> + +<p> +“What ’ave I been a’doing of?” she faltered, “why, nothink, +mother—leastways nothink wrong, as I knows on. I’ve tried to give +satisfaction. Mrs. Battleby knows that, don’t you, Mum?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! I can’t say as I do, Hannah,” returned that worthy, “if seeing +ghosts and sich-like, and playing with the Devil up in the gentlemen’s +rooms, is giving satisfaction, I can’t see it, and that’s all!” +</p> + +<p> +“Hannah! what ’ave you been a’doing up in the lodgers’ rooms?” +demanded Mrs. Stubbs again. +</p> + +<p> +“Only ’aving physic,” replied the girl, as she looked down upon the +floor. +</p> + +<p> +“Come! that ain’t true,” interposed Mrs. Battleby, “for you knows you +go into a room all ’ung with black, and sees ghosties, which is only +the Devil dressed up to deceive mankind.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is this the case?” said her mother, sternly. +</p> + +<p> +“I never see none,” replied Hannah, “leastways not in the room, and I +’ates them, mother—I’ve told you so, scores of times—but they will +foller me, I can’t ’elp it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does you go to sleep in those gentlemen’s rooms?” continued Mrs. +Stubbs. +</p> + +<p> +“The physic they gives me, makes me do that!” replied the girl. +“ ’Tain’t <i>my</i> fault!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I’ve done with yer for ever,” exclaimed Joe Brushwood, +energetically, “a gal as goes to sleep in gentlemen’s rooms, ain’t the +wife for a respectable young man, and it’s all over between us, Hannah +Stubbs, you mark that! I’ve told you so, afore two witnesses, so you +needn’t try for a breach of promise of marriage case!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! no! no! Joe, don’t say that!” cried Hannah, tearfully, “I’ve been +a true gal to you all along, Joe, and if—if—I’m so un’appy as to be +prosecuted by shadders and things, you did ought to pity me, and not +turn against me like that!” +</p> + +<p> +“You leave the young man alone, Hannah,” interrupted her mother, “ ’e’s +doing the right thing in casting you hoff, and I, for one, won’t blame +’im for it! Do you suppose any decent feller will marry you with these +devils allays arter you? You’re a Witch! that’s what you are, and a +Sorceress. You’ve sold yourself to the Devil and ought to be burnt +alive, as they did to sich as you in the good old times. Likely a +respectable man like Joe Brushwood, would own you now—when your own +people won’t! <i>I</i> won’t ’ave you a’coming ’ome, contaminating your +brothers and sisters with your devilish ways, no more won’t your +father! You must make your living the best way you can for the future, +for you don’t see me nor ’ome no more, and that I tells you straight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mother! mother! don’t go to say that!” cried Hannah, in despair, as +she flung herself down upon the floor and burst into tears. +</p> + +<p> +At that moment, the spare figure of the Professor appeared at the open +door of the kitchen. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Battleby!” he commenced, and then perceiving the attitude which +Hannah had assumed, he broke off his request with, “Why! what is the +matter? Is Hannah ill?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! Sir, she hain’t hill,” replied Mrs. Stubbs, guessing his +identity, “but she’s cast off by ’er friends and ’er young man, for +hever.” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo looked at the stranger with mild surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“But why?” he inquired, “what has she done?” +</p> + +<p> +“And you can stand there, and arsk me that, you brazen-faced +impostor?” cried Mrs. Stubbs, with undisguised fury, “when it’s all +along of you and your diabolical practices, that the pore gal ’ave +lost ’er good name and repitation? What have <i>you</i> done—that’s more +to the puppuss, a’avin ’er up to your rooms a nights—your dark rooms +’ung with black—and playing with ’ell fire as you do? Why ’ave you +been a’calling up sperrits and ghosties and sich-like, and frightening +us all out of our wits. But since it is so, and Hannah, she ’ave been +fool enough to play into your ’ands (wich I’m sure you’re old enough +to know better than to lead young gals astray), she ain’t no more a +child of mine, and she don’t come ’ome no more, neither, to +contaminate ’er brothers and sisters. She belongs to the Devil and let +’im keep ’er! <i>I</i> don’t!” +</p> + +<p> +“But, my dear Madam,” said the Professor, “you mistake altogether! My +friend Doctor Steinberg has been trying to cure your daughter of her +natural weakness——” +</p> + +<p> +“Bah!” exclaimed the irate mother, more emphatically than politely. +“Go along with yer!” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Battleby, <i>you</i> can explain this matter,” said Ricardo, turning +to his landlady. +</p> + +<p> +“No! Sig-nor, I can’t,” she replied, “I must make bold to tell you +that I went into your locked-up room the other day, and I listened at +your door last night and I know <i>all!</i> And I’ll be much obliged if +you’ll find another lodging, Sig-nor, by this day week. Mysteries as +is jined with books I can be easy with, but not Mysteries as is jined +with gals!” +</p> + +<p> +“Of what baseness do you suspect me?” said Ricardo, indignantly. “It +is true that finding this girl to be a strong medium, my friend and I +have used her to assist us in our studies in spiritualism, but if +anyone is in fault in the matter, it is I. Hannah is perfectly +blameless; indeed, she does not even know what has occurred. Pray, +therefore, do not visit the misfortune on her innocent head. If Mrs. +Stubbs does not believe in, or does not approve of, Spiritualism, she +can at least sympathise with the marvellous power which her daughter +possesses, and which is as rare as it is wonderful.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Sympathise!</i>” screamed Mrs. Stubbs. “No! Sir, I don’t, nor with any +dealings with the Devil, nor witches, nor sorcery, nor——” +</p> + +<p> +“Devils! Witches! Fiddlesticks!” cried Ricardo, impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“It’ll fiddlestick you, Sir, and that misfortunate gal there, if you +don’t take ’eed to your ways,” retorted his irate adversary. “Me and +mine ’ave been brought hup Christuns from our birth—in sound Methody +principles—and we won’t stand no devilry, nor doings of Satan—and no +more will this young man ’ere!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! certingly not!” exclaimed the chivalrous Joe, “hit’s hall +hover with me and Hannah from this hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“What! are <i>you</i>, too, going to turn against her, for a temperament +which is no fault of her own?” exclaimed the Professor, addressing the +young farmer. “You—who professed to be her lover! Shame on you! You +are not a man! Men were different in my day. They stood by the women +they had promised to defend, to the very last—I think Hannah is well +quit of such as you.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! do you, Sir?” interposed Mrs. Stubbs, “and we thinks we’re well +quit of the Devil and hall his himps! As you’ve been the means of +leading this un’appy gal astray, and ’aving ’er turned out of a good +place, and spurned by ’er relations, p’r’aps you’ll see arter ’er for +the future, and the Devil and you will ’elp ’er to make a living, for +no one else will.” +</p> + +<p> +The Professor looked like a grand old hero as he replied, +</p> + +<p> +“<i>I will!</i> You may depend on that! Whilst I have a crust, she shall +share it! I would be ashamed to own so cold and unfeeling a heart as +you seem to possess, though you <i>are</i> her mother. Do not cry so +bitterly, Hannah! I will see that you do not want! As for you, Sir,” +he continued, turning to Joe Brushwood, “words cannot express the +contempt I feel for you! You are a poltroon—a coward—a cur! In my +country, they do not let men like you <i>live!</i> Mrs. Battleby, I accept +your notice, and will leave your rooms as soon as I have found others. +Till then, I hope you will allow Hannah to remain under your care, and +to-morrow I will tell you with whom I have decided to place her. +Good-night!” +</p> + +<p> +He quitted the kitchen with the air of a <i>preux chevalier</i>, and the +persons in it felt very small. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! I ain’t a’going to stay ’ere any longer,” said Mrs. Stubbs, as +she bounced up from her seat, “the very hair seems to collaborate me. +I’ll get a bed at the Pig and Whistle, which the lady knows me well, +and to-morrer p’r’aps you’ll let me know, Mrs. Battleby, what that old +feller means to do for that misfortunate, wicked gal there. If ’e +don’t provide for ’er, she must just go to the workus, for I washes my +’ands of ’er altogether!” +</p> + +<p> +“Saying as I was no man, indeed,” added Joe, indignantly, “I’d like to +take the old chap outside for a minute and I’d soon let ’im know which +on us was the best man. A dried-up, withered old carcase like that, +and an <i>I</i>-talian into the bargain, who’s been fed on macaroni and +snails. I like ’is imperence!” +</p> + +<p> +“Come on, Joe! don’t waste no more time ’ere,” exclaimed Mrs. Stubbs, +“if we make ’aste, we shall be in time for a music ’all yet, and I do +love a music ’all. It’ll put all this wickedness as we’ve been talking +of, out of my ’ead.” +</p> + +<p> +She went into the area as she spoke, followed by Mrs. Battleby, +cackling all the while of the Devil and his ways. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah was left for a moment alone with Joe. +</p> + +<p> +“Joe!” she ejaculated, plaintively, as she raised her head, “don’t you +leave me for a minute. Your words ’ave nigh broke my ’eart. I’ve +allays loved you, Joe, and I’ve been true and faithful to you, ever +since we was little children together. Don’t you believe what mother +and Mrs. Battleby says—they’re talking of what they know nothing. I +ain’t pretty, I know, Joe, but I’ve been a good gal to you. Don’t go +for to forsake me like mother, for I shall kill myself if you do!” +</p> + +<p> +She drew nearer to where the young man stood, sheepishly turning his +billy-cock hat round and round in his hands, and laid hers gently upon +his. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mind when we fust kep’ company, Joe—when we was nutting in +Farmer Burrows’ copse, and you ketched my ’and and kissed me afore I +knowed what you was after? That was two good years ago!” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch08"> +CHAPTER VIII. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">Well</span>! what of that?” demanded Joe, as he twitched his hand away +from that of the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Two years is a goodish time at our age,” continued Hannah, “and +through it all I’ve ’oped to be your wife! Be you going to break your +word to me now, lad?” +</p> + +<p> +She spoke so wistfully that she made Joe feel very uncomfortable, +though if he had had his own way, he would have stuck to her, whatever +her proclivities. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! Hannah, you see it’s just like this,” he replied, after an +awkward pause, “Mother, she won’t ’ave any sperrits, nor anyone as +deals with ’em, in ’er ’ouse, and there won’t be no other for me to +take you to, till she and father kicks the bucket.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not if we worked ’ard for it, Joe?” asked the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t got no work, nor ever shall, but what’s on the farm,” +returned Joe, stolidly, “besides which, Hannah, I don’t approve of +sich goings on myself. It’ll lead to ’ell some time or other, you mark +my word!” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Joe, it ain’t <i>my</i> fault,” cried the girl, earnestly, “by the +blessed Cross it ain’t. I’se as feared on ’em as you could be! I +screams if they come near me! I don’t know why they should, or why I +sees ’em. It’s my misfortune, Joe, and if it loses me you, it’ll be my +death as well.” +</p> + +<p> +And she began to sob afresh. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Hannah, don’t do that, for mercy’s sake,” urged her lover, “for +I must go. Your mother’ll be rare fashed at my staying be’ind, as it +is. Now, do dry your eyes, like a good lass, for matters is too far +gone to be mended by crying.” +</p> + +<p> +“You means to leave me then in right earnest?” said the girl. “You +sides with mother and the rest, and will turn your back on me just +because I’se un’appy?” +</p> + +<p> +“What can I do? my mother, she won’t ’ear on’t, and yourn is as bad. +They’d worry my life out atween ’em, if I went agen ’em, and how +should we live then? that’s the question. No! no! we’d better be +square and part at onst. Besides, the old gennelman says ’<i>e</i>’s a +going to look arter you, and you couldn’t do with two on us. So +good-bye, Hannah, and I wishes you well, but you mustn’t expect to see +me any more.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying, Joe Brushwood ran after Mrs. Stubbs, and was soon in the +full enjoyment of a music hall programme. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah was not a fine lady to faint from her emotion, but may be she +felt it all the same. When Mrs. Battleby returned to the kitchen, she +found her standing by the table, with her most sullen look on, as if +she dared a stranger to intermeddle with her grief. +</p> + +<p> +“Well!” cried the landlady, coarsely, “I ’opes you’re satisfied with +the mischief as you’ve done! There’s the mother as bore you, ’alf +drownded in grief, and as ’ansome a young feller as ever I clapped +eyes on, done with you for ever—and all on account of your goings-on +with the gentlemen upstairs. You’ve made a pretty pickle for yourself, +it seems to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Battleby,” said the girl, suddenly, “can I speak to the Sig-nor +afore I goes to my bed?” +</p> + +<p> +“In course, if you wants to! ’E and you leaves this ’ouse as soon as +may be, but I’ve no call to part you, whilst you remains ’ere. The +Sig-nor’s in ’is room. You can go up if you’ve a mind to. You’re not +under my horders any longer. You belongs to ’im now. ’E is to pervide +for you, so you needn’t arsk me nothink any more.” +</p> + +<p> +And Mrs. Battleby turned her back on Hannah and walked into the +scullery. The girl went up the stairs and knocked softly at the +Professor’s door. He was deeply absorbed in a treatise on his +favourite study, but he gave his permission to enter, in a pleasant +voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! my poor girl, and what may you want?” he inquired, as he caught +sight of Hannah’s blotched and swollen visage, “I hope you have made +it up with your mother and sweetheart. It is better to give in our own +wishes a little than to quarrel, Hannah!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sir,” she answered, in a muffled voice. She did not seem like +the Hannah of the day before. Something had suddenly gentled her, and +cast a soft shadow over her plain face. “But we ain’t made it up. +Mother, she’s firm, and so is Joe, that they won’t see me again. I +take it rather unkind on their parts, Sir, for I don’t know what I’ve +done wrong. But Mrs. Battleby says as ’ow, when the Doctor ’ave put me +to sleep up ’ere, ghosties and sperrits walk about the room, dressed +in white gownds, and speak with you. Is that true, Sir? ’Ave sperrits +come as she say?” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo looked very uneasy. He would have given a great deal to be +able to answer “No!” But he could not! +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Battleby has told you the truth, Hannah,” he replied, “though, +Heaven is my witness, I never imagined I should bring you into such +trouble with your family by permitting it. You have different powers +from most people, my child! The shadows and figures, that you have +seen, you say, all your life, and the voices which you have heard, +should have taught you that. Doctor Steinberg and I are much +interested in such visions, and we thought by letting your powers have +free vent whilst with us, that you would not be so troubled with them +when alone. And if Mrs. Battleby had not been so dishonourable as to +listen at the keyhole, no one would ever have been the wiser. As it +is, it has turned out very unfortunately for all of us. But I will see +that you get another situation, Hannah, so don’t be anxious about +that. You shall not want, whilst I can support you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sir, thank you kindly! It’s very good of you I’m sure, to think +to make it up to me like that, but it won’t give me back my mother, +nor Joe!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! not directly, but surely they will come round after a while?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think so,” said Hannah, shaking her head, “country folk is +very hard to turn. I don’t believe as I shall ever see any of ’em +again. But I thought I’d just arsk you if it was true, Sir!” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo hid his face in his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“What have I done?” he murmured. “Fool that I am, I have ruined this +poor child’s life! Don’t you hate me, Hannah, for this?” +</p> + +<p> +“ ’Ate <i>you</i>, Sir?” she echoed, “but for why? You didn’t mean to ’arm +me, I’m sure of that—nor the Doctor neither! It’s Joe as I oughter +hate, I s’pose, or mother, but I can’t find it in my ’eart to do it! +They was so good to me afore these sperrits come round me. Arter all, +I oughter ’ate <i>them</i> the most, for they’s done the mischief for me. +Good-night, Sir, and thank ye for what you’ve said.” +</p> + +<p> +She quitted his presence with a kind of rough curtsey, but the +Professor could hear her heart-breaking sobs as she descended the +staircase. He leant his head thoughtfully upon his hand, and tried to +decide what was best to be done. For his own gratification—in order +to further his researches into Occultism—he had spoilt this girl’s +life, parted her from her lover and her home—thrown her, ignorant and +without protection, upon a world that did not want her. How could he +make amends? He pondered over the question for a long time—then +suddenly drew out his watch. It was not yet eight o’clock. He hastily +transcribed a telegram to Karl Steinberg, and rang his bell. It was +answered by Mrs. Battleby. +</p> + +<p> +“What may you please to want, Sir?” she demanded, “Hannah, she ’ave +gone to bed, as well she may. I’m sure if I had been found out in sich +practices, I should be glad enough to ’ide my ’ead anywheres, sooner +than face honest and God-fearing people!” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Battleby!” replied the Professor, in an unusually stern voice, +“I am going to quit your apartments as soon as I can find others to +suit me. So long as I remain here, be good enough to spare me the +expression of your sentiments regarding Hannah, or anybody else. I +wish that telegram to be sent as soon as possible!” and he held out +the paper to her as he spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s quite unpossible as I can send it, Sig-nor,” said the landlady, +with asperity, “considering as there’s only me in the ’ouse. You’ve +took Hannah away from me, Sig-nor, and so you must please to wait on +yourself, and send your own telegrams.” +</p> + +<p> +The Professor rose with a sigh, and assumed his coat and hat. +</p> + +<p> +The message was of importance, so he was fain to put up with the +woman’s insolence. He felt he could not finally decide this momentous +question, without the counsel of his friend. The words were +transmitted to the Hospital by a little after eight o’clock, and by +half-past nine, Steinberg entered the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Why! what’s the matter now?” he exclaimed; “not ill, I hope, +Ricardo.” +</p> + +<p> +“No! but much perplexed,” replied his friend, and thereupon he related +the circumstances regarding Hannah Stubbs, over which he had been +brooding for so long. +</p> + +<p> +Karl Steinberg looked very grave. Here was, apparently, not only the +end of Hannah Stubbs, but of their studies in Spiritualism. Where +should they ever find such another medium? +</p> + +<p> +“What do you intend to do?” he inquired of the Professor. +</p> + +<p> +“I have been thinking over it for a long time,” replied Ricardo, “and +I can arrive at but one conclusion. <i>I shall marry the girl!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +If he had announced that he intended to murder Hannah Stubbs and all +her family, he could not have astonished the Doctor more. He +positively leapt from his chair, as he exclaimed, +</p> + +<p> +“Good God! are you mad? Do you know what you are saying? Marry that +clod. Bind yourself for life to a mere animal like Hannah Stubbs! O! +you are jesting with me!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am doing no such thing,” replied Ricardo, “I am in sober earnest! I +have unintentionally done this girl a great injury. Through my means +she is left without protection, lover, or family affection. I propose +to remedy the evil by making her my wife, and providing for her as far +as I am able.” +</p> + +<p> +“But not as your wife—Ricardo, my dear friend, think! think what you +are contemplating! Make Hannah your servant—your housekeeper—your +nurse—what you will, but keep her in the station to which she was +born. Take other rooms, or a little house, and install her there as +mistress of your property, but, for Heaven’s sake, do not contemplate +such a mad, impossible self-sacrifice as to marry a woman like that!” +</p> + +<p> +But the Professor was firm. +</p> + +<p> +“What did you tell me the other day, that the world would say if I +took Hannah as my servant, and sat, shut up with her alone, night +after night? You said it would talk scandal of us, and doubtless you +were right! As my wife, no one will dare to say anything against her +or what I may choose to do! And do you not guess what is at the bottom +of this resolution, Steinberg? I cannot part again with Leonora! She +would be lost to me for ever! Where should I find another <i>rara avis</i> +like this girl, to bring her back from the grave? No! no! I must +retain her services, and I see no other way to do it. Leonora has but +just been able to manifest herself to us. You saw her beautiful face +peeping through the mist last night, but as yet she cannot communicate +with me—she cannot set this gnawing doubt at rest. Can I give up my +researches just as they are beginning to reward me for my +trouble?—just as I am on the brink of ascertaining what I have +thirsted to know for so many weary years? No! Steinberg, I feel it to +be impossible! I must go on now until I know the truth, and I know of +no means of ascertaining it, but through Hannah Stubbs!” +</p> + +<p> +“But make her anything but your wife!” repeated the Doctor, “think of +the dishonour—the degradation! <i>You</i>—Marchese di Sorrento—the scion +of a princely family—to ally yourself with a common serving girl, a +clod of the soil! O! it is monstrous. I cannot bear to think of it! It +is an infamy—an anomaly—an insult to your birth and your ancestors!” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot see it in that light,” said Ricardo. “In the first place, I +am no longer Marchese di Sorrento! I have voluntarily abandoned the +title, and Hannah shall never know that it was mine. To her, I shall +be no more than Signor Ricardo, Professor of the Italian Language. +Taking this away, I do not see that the advantages of such a marriage +will be all on her side. I am poor and I am old——” +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense! a man of fifty! Were you to acknowledge your true rank and +status, you might marry a woman with money, to-morrow!” +</p> + +<p> +The Professor smiled faintly. +</p> + +<p> +“And Hannah can give me more than any money can buy—she can give me +Leonora! Ah! my friend, you do not yet realise what I suffered in the +loss of my wife—in the loss of my faith in her! To regain that, I +would sacrifice everything I possess in this world! I am fifty, in +years—yes! but in feeling I am seventy—a hundred! Hannah is low +born—I admit it—and ignorant, but she brings Youth and Health and +Innocence as her portion, and she brings what is better than +all—<i>Leonora!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“If you have quite made up your mind on the subject, I suppose it is +of no use my talking to you any more,” said Steinberg, in a tone of +annoyance. +</p> + +<p> +“No! not if you would try to make me give up my wife, who has not yet +even spoken to me. With Hannah always at my commands, what may I not +accomplish? I can go on and on, until I hold Leonora in my arms again, +fresh, pure and beautiful, as when I first received her as my bride. +Do you not see, Steinberg—cannot you understand—that it is not +<i>Hannah</i> whom I wish to marry, but Leonora whom I wish to call back to +my love and my embrace? And how can I accomplish this, except by +having the medium under my own control? Were I to engage Hannah as my +servant, and give her every comfort, I could never be sure that she +would not leave me for a better situation, but as my wife, she—I +mean, Leonora—will always be with me to my life’s end.” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand your feelings perfectly,” replied the Doctor, “but I +would not have you do this extraordinary thing in too great a hurry. I +am not yet satisfied that the pursuit of Spiritualism is entirely +without its dangers, or that these spirits are always the persons whom +they profess to be! What should you do, if, after you had taken this +irremediable step of marriage, you were to discover that the form +which looks to you now like that of your lost wife, were that of some +stranger?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should try again until I found her,” replied the Professor, “I +should consider my whole life well spent, if I only caught a glimpse +of her at the last!” +</p> + +<p> +“And if this is to be, where do you propose to take Hannah?” continued +his friend. +</p> + +<p> +“I have hardly thought of it! I want your advice on several things. +First, shall I mention my project of marrying her to her parents?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should not! Since they have cast her off, I should take the girl +away with me as my servant, and let the matter alone for a little +while. If she is attached to her lover, as you seem to imagine, she +will probably refuse to listen to your proposal for some time +further.” +</p> + +<p> +“True! then as to a residence——” +</p> + +<p> +“I have something to say about that,” interposed Steinberg. “Some time +ago an acquaintance of mine offered me the lease of a cottage in +Hampstead for the rent of twenty-five pounds. I did not care for the +idea of setting up house by myself, and I did not think I could afford +it, but if you would like me to live with you and share expenses, I +believe we might be very comfortable together, and I could still share +your midnight studies with Hannah.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is the very thing!” cried Ricardo, slapping his knee. “You and I +will pursue our several avocations whilst Hannah looks after the +cottage, and then in the evenings we will return home, to find all +things ready and comfortable for us, and to spend the hours in our +favourite pursuit. But supposing you, too, take it into your head to +marry, my friend, what then? Will the cottage hold us all?” +</p> + +<p> +“Have no fears on that subject,” replied the Doctor, “I am not such a +fool! Excuse me, Professor, but you have heard my sentiments regarding +Marriage and Women long ago. I am wedded to my profession, and have no +wishes outside of Science. If I did not believe Spiritualism to be a +very great Science, disbelieved in by many, simply because it is +altogether above their heads, I should not pursue the knowledge of it. +But as it is——” +</p> + +<p> +“As it is,” interrupted the Professor, gaily, “you <i>do</i> believe in it, +and we will live happily together in the little cottage at Hampstead, +with our good Hannah to look after our temporal wants and assist us in +our spiritual researches. My dear Steinberg, I know of nothing that +has given me so much pleasure as this proposal of yours, for a long +time.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am looking forward to it also,” said Steinberg, “I have long felt +the want of a home and a congenial companion in my leisure hours. My +quarters at the Hospital are too easy of access. I am never sure of +not being disturbed out of canonical hours, and a man does require a +few moments in the day that he can call his own. I must leave you now, +but I will write to my friend to-night about the cottage, and let you +know as soon as possible when we can take possession of it. I have a +few articles of furniture—so have you—and the rest I will procure on +credit. Have no fears, Professor, the cottage will be ours within the +week? But take my advice and think seriously—<i>very seriously</i>—before +you decide on the step you contemplate.” +</p> + +<p> +He ran off, leaving Ricardo with his own thoughts, but when the +morning came, he was still of the same mind—he could not part with +Leonora, and if a marriage with Hannah Stubbs was the only way by +which to secure that end, a marriage there must be. He decided, +however, to keep his own counsel on the matter until he had left Mrs. +Battleby’s house. +</p> + +<p> +When his landlady brought up his breakfast on the following morning, +she informed him in a severe tone, that Mrs. Stubbs was down below and +would be glad to hear what were his intentions with regard to her +misguided daughter, as she had to return to Settlefield by the twelve +o’clock train. +</p> + +<p> +“My intentions are, as I told the woman last night, to provide for +Hannah,” replied the Professor, “Doctor Steinberg and I intend to take +a house and live together for the future, and we shall engage Hannah +to do our housework, and pay her at the rate of twenty pounds a year. +Will that satisfy her mother?” +</p> + +<p> +As Hannah had never received more than ten pounds before, Mrs. +Battleby said that she considered the Sig-nor’s offer to be very +handsome, adding “that she didn’t know ’ow it ’appened, but some +people was so lucky, they seemed allays to fall on their feet.” +</p> + +<p> +But when she rejoined her crony, Mrs. Stubbs, her sentiments appeared +to have undergone a change. +</p> + +<p> +“Now! wot wickedness do you think them two is up to?” she commenced. +“The Professor’s been just a’telling me that ’e and ’is accomplish the +Doctor, is going to set up ’ouse and keep Hannah atween ’em, and won’t +they be up to all sorts of mischief, the three on ’em together! I’ll +tell you what it is, Mrs. Stubbs, that gal of yourn is right-down +’ardened, she is, and don’t want no ’ome, nor mother, nor nothink! +She’d rayther be off with them two old scamps, so let ’er go, says I, +till she comes back to ’er senses.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if she’s got another sitivation, it’s all as I looks for, for +the gal must earn her living and learn to look arter ’erself into the +bargain. Joe Brushwood, he seems quite set against ’er like, and +wouldn’t come over this morning, though I arsked ’im ever so! ’Owever, +if Hannah’s pervided for, that’s all I arsks and I shall tell ’er +father as it’s all right, and she don’t want to marry Joe, for men are +so inquisitive and troublesome, there’s no a’bearing ’em. Well! +good-bye, Mrs. Battleby, and please to tell my gal as she’s seen the +larst of me and the rest, for we repugniates ’er!” +</p> + +<p> +And gathering her Scotch plaid shawl about her, Mrs. Stubbs laboured +up the area steps and was lost to view. Hannah did not come down to +her breakfast that morning, but appeared an hour later, with red eyes, +a swollen nose, and blubber lips that looked as if she must keep them +open in order to breathe. +</p> + +<p> +She did not speak for some time after she entered the kitchen, and +when she did, it was to ask when Mrs. Battleby expected her mother to +call. +</p> + +<p> +“Your mother!” exclaimed the landlady, in her shrill voice, “why, +she’s been and gone this hour!” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Gone!</i>” cried Hannah, “and won’t she come back? Shan’t I see ’er +again?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not you, I guess, and she was glad enough to go, pore creetur, and +’ide ’er shame in the country. Your young man too—though in course ’e +ain’t your young man no longer—’e wouldn’t step in, not for a minute, +’e was so afeared of seeing you again. You’ve disgraced ’em all, +Hannah Stubbs, that’s the long and the short of it, and they don’t +want to look upon you no more, so the best thing you can do is to go +arter your old gentleman and see what ’<i>e</i> can do for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“What old gentleman?” inquired the girl, “the Professor? O! ’e is +good, I know, and kind. ’E said that ’e would see as I never wanted +nothing, but ’e ain’t mother and ’e ain’t Joe!” +</p> + +<p> +And she commenced to weep afresh. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, look ’ere,” said Mrs. Battleby, “it’s no good your doing that. +It won’t bring ’em back to you, nor wipe out the ’arm you’ve done ’em. +You’d much better go upstairs and clear the Sig-nor’s breakfast +things, for that’s what you’ve got to do for the future, ’e tells me. +It’s your business now, plain enough, so just dry your eyes and do +your dooty, for I’ve got no time to waste over it to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah did as she was told, and the Professor took the opportunity to +tell her about the new cottage and what he intended her to do for him +there, and she went downstairs again, satisfied, that if she had lost +the good-will of her friends, she had not, at least, the prospect of +starvation before her eyes. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch09"> +CHAPTER IX. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Karl Steinberg’s</span> negociations for the cottage at Hampstead, proved +eminently successful. The rooms were too small for most tenants, so it +was still unlet, and before the end of the week, he had signed the +agreement for it, and had such articles of furniture as were +absolutely necessary, put in. Ricardo and Hannah moved to their new +abode on the appointed day—their departure being loudly lamented by +Mrs. Battleby, who, finding her quiet, well-behaved lodger had taken +her at her word, was very doubtful where she should find such another +occupant for her attics. +</p> + +<p> +The Professor was delighted at the prospect of the change. He had seen +the black draperies carefully taken down from the séance chamber—had +packed his precious books himself—and put together his few articles +of furniture, and now had the pleasure of looking forward to arranging +them in their place again, without any prospect of being turned out at +a moment’s notice. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah also, though still in great grief for the loss of her young man +and the anger of her mother, was much cheered by the idea of having +twenty pounds a year, and reigning sole mistress over the little +domicile at Hampstead. +</p> + +<p> +It was a tiny house, consisting of a sitting-room and kitchen on the +ground floor, with two bedrooms and two dressing-rooms above—the +larger of which were to belong to Ricardo and his friend, whilst +Hannah slept in one of the smaller, and the other was to be hung with +the black draperies and devoted to their séances. +</p> + +<p> +There was so much to do on first taking possession of the cottage, +that they determined to postpone the pursuit of their studies until +they felt more at home. The Professor had his teaching to attend to, +as usual, and the Doctor his hospital, and when they met in the +evenings they were too much engaged in carpentering and painting to be +able to attend to anything else. Meanwhile, however, the resolution he +had arrived at respecting Hannah Stubbs, had not deserted the +Professor’s mind, and it was not long before he mooted the question to +her. +</p> + +<p> +He saw more of the girl than the Doctor did. Steinberg had his +hospital duties to attend to, and occasionally they kept him from home +all the evening, but Ricardo’s work was more irregular. Sometimes he +had but two or three lessons to give during the day—sometimes eight +or nine. One day he would be employed all the morning and have his +afternoon free—on another, he would lounge in his arm-chair, robed in +a dressing-gown, and reading his favourite authors, until noon, and +rush away directly after his luncheon, not to appear again until it +was time for supper. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah had but little hard work to do, as neither of the gentlemen +took dinner at home, and their morning and evening meals were very +light. +</p> + +<p> +She had the whole day to scrub and polish the rooms, and being a clean +girl by nature, she took a pride in making them as bright as it was in +the power of soap and water to do. +</p> + +<p> +It was one of the Professor’s afternoons at home, and she was in the +midst of cleaning her little kitchen when he called her into the front +room. +</p> + +<p> +“Hannah, I feel lonely,” he said, “I want you to leave off work and +come and sit with me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Lor! Sig-nor, it’s impossible! I’se all of a muck, and the kitchen’s +flooded with water!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then wipe it up as soon as you can, and come to me. I want you to sew +some buttons on my clean shirt!” +</p> + +<p> +The girl did as she was desired, for amongst the anomalies that beset +this strange creature, was her capacity for needlework, the most +delicate of which did not seem to come amiss to her clumsy fingers. As +soon as she had mopped up her kitchen floor, she put on a clean apron +and brought her work basket into the Professor’s room. There she found +various articles awaiting her, to mend, and taking a chair at the +furthest end of the little apartment, she applied herself to her work. +</p> + +<p> +“Hannah!” said the Professor, presently, between the puffs of his +meerschaum pipe, “have you ever thought about getting married?” +</p> + +<p> +The girl reddened; looked up quickly; and then dashed her hand across +her eyes to brush away a tear. +</p> + +<p> +“Lor! Sir, in course I ’ave! You’re a’forgetting of Joe!” +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure! You must forgive me, Hannah! But you will never see any +more of Joe, you tell me!” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think so, Sig-nor! ’E’s a young man of ’is word, Joe is, and +what ’e says ’e sticks to,” replied Hannah, with a heavy sigh. +</p> + +<p> +“But you don’t mean to remain unmarried for ever, for his sake, do +you, Hannah? He is not worth it!” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t suppose as any one else will want to marry me,” replied the +girl, humbly, “I knows as I ain’t much to look at, nor clever, nor +nothink of that sort, but I loved ’im, Sir, true, only ’e didn’t seem +to vally it!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! He was a fool,” said the Professor, “but all men are not the +same, Hannah! There are plenty that may want to marry you yet—and I +am one!” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah looked up quickly, as if she did not believe she could have +heard aright. +</p> + +<p> +“I begs your pardin, Sir, what did you say?” +</p> + +<p> +“I said that <i>I</i> would marry you, if you are willing, Hannah, and then +you will at least be provided for, for life!” +</p> + +<p> +“But you’re quite an old man,” replied the girl, naïvely. +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo winced under the truth. +</p> + +<p> +“You are right,” he answered, presently, “I am old, at least compared +with that young cub who has kicked you off. But men older than myself +marry young wives every day, and I should make you a kind husband. I +am a gentleman also—you know that without my telling you—and a +gentleman raises the woman he marries, to his own position, and though +I am not a rich man, I am better off than you would ever be if you +married a man of your own standing. I am a very lonely man now, +Hannah, and you are a kind, amiable girl, and I am sure you would make +me a good wife. What do you say to my proposal? Shall we be married?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re joking with me, Sig-nor,” said Hannah, “it can’t never be!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” inquired Ricardo. +</p> + +<p> +“O! ’cos I’m so different from you every ways, and you’d be ashamed to +say I was your wife. And what would the Doctor say, too?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind the Doctor! This is a matter that concerns you and me +only. I don’t mean that we should go on differently from what we are +doing now. I am not rich enough to keep a servant to wait upon you! +You would have to look after the house and get the breakfast, just as +you do now. Only—you would be my wife and bear my name, and if I am +ever better off than I am at present, you will share my good fortune +with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! I’d be glad and proud to do all I can for you and the Doctor, +Sig-nor,—now and allays—” replied the girl. “Only—for ’tother—why +I can’t speak like a lady—you’d laugh at me for my hignorance and I’d +be shamed to open my mouth afore you, if so be I was, what you say.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know you have not had any advantages in the way of education, +Hannah, but I should be willing to teach you many things, and being +always with me, and hearing me talk, you would soon improve yourself. +Is it a bargain, or not?” +</p> + +<p> +“O! lor! Sir, I don’t know what to say, sure,” cried Hannah, in a +frightened voice. “It’s a honner, I know, but it don’t seem +nateral-like. And I’m not sure as it would be right, neither, for I +can’t ’elp thinking of Joe, and his falseness to me, and I can’t +promise to give it up, neither!” +</p> + +<p> +“I like you all the better for saying so, Hannah, and don’t imagine +that I shall expect you to love me! If you continue kind and +attentive, that is all that I shall ask. And if I did not believe that +you would be so, I should not wish you to be my wife, even if you were +a Princess of the Blood Royal. Cannot you make up your mind on the +subject?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! I don’t suppose as I could do better,” replied the girl, with +another deep sigh, “so p’r’aps I’d better say ‘Yes’, Sir!” +</p> + +<p> +It was not a very ardent way of accepting his proposal, but Ricardo +wanted no more than her acquiescence. He did not even put down his +pipe to kiss the girl, nor press her hand. He only smiled and said, +</p> + +<p> +“Well! I’m glad you’ve come to that conclusion, and you and I will go +out together some day and get it quietly over.” +</p> + +<p> +He said nothing to Karl Steinberg on the subject until a week +afterwards, when he came in one morning, with the girl, from the +Registrar’s office, and told him that they were man and wife. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah grinned as the news was made public, but disappeared +immediately afterwards into the kitchen, to prepare the family +breakfast. +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo waited for Steinberg to speak, but he sat silent and apart, +with knitted brows, and a perplexed countenance. +</p> + +<p> +“And so, my dear friend, you have no congratulations to offer me?” +said the Professor at length. +</p> + +<p> +“Frankly, my dear Ricardo, no! You know what my sentiments are +regarding the step you have taken, which appears an act of madness to +me. However, it is done and cannot be undone, so the less said the +better.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you know the motives which induced me to propose it,” replied the +Professor. “They are not altered, Karl, they never will be! I feel as +if the ceremony of this morning had united me to Leonora over again. I +am as rapturously happy as if the grave had restored her to me. There +is no such thought as love, or any other nonsense, for this girl. I +will be good to her, but to me she is Leonora’s medium—nothing more! +Come! at least congratulate me on having reached the climax of my +desires regarding Occultism.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you all happiness and success in every possible way, my dear +Ricardo,” exclaimed Steinberg, as he stretched his hand across the +table and grasped that of his friend. “But here is Mrs. Ricardo with +our breakfast. I hope your morning stroll has given you a good +appetite, Professor!” +</p> + +<p> +“The best in the world,” cried the older man, gaily, as he drew his +chair to the table. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah had placed the coffee and rolls and eggs before them and was +about to return to the kitchen. +</p> + +<p> +“But surely your wife will breakfast with us, now?” remarked +Steinberg. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course! to be sure,” said the Professor. “Hannah, my dear, sit +down and take your breakfast with the Doctor and me!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! no, Sir, indeed I’d rayther not!” exclaimed the girl, as she beat +a retreat to her own quarters. Her husband smiled and shrugged his +shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“Let her do as she likes,” he observed; “she will be happier in the +pursuits of her old life. And it would be most awkward to have her +always listening to our conservation, particularly at this juncture. +Steinberg, I must have a séance to-night. Will you try and come home +early? I have married to-day, not Hannah Stubbs, but my Leonora, and I +shall not close my eyes until I have seen and spoken to her again. The +last séance! I shall never forgive Mrs. Battleby for having +interrupted us! In another moment I should have held my wife in my +arms. But I will sit and sit for her, until that happy moment arrives. +Is the room quite ready?” +</p> + +<p> +“I finished it yesterday, and it is one of my leisure evenings, so +that I shall be back as soon as yourself. Tell Hannah—I beg your +pardon, I must call her Mrs. Ricardo now——” +</p> + +<p> +“No such thing!” cried the Professor, “continue to call her Hannah as +usual. I wish all things to go on exactly as before!” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell Hannah, then, to be sure and get us a good supper, for I feel so +much exhaustion after these séances, as if my brain and body were +alike scooped out and empty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! yes! I will see to all that!” replied Ricardo, as they parted to +pursue their avocations. +</p> + +<p> +The Professor ordered his wife to procure a couple of fowls for +supper, which Hannah quite imagined was in honour of the morning +ceremony, and gave her five pounds as a wedding present, which +delighted the simple creature as much as if he had settled an income +upon her. +</p> + +<p> +But when he and Steinberg returned home and intimated their intention +to hold a séance in the dark chamber, Mrs. Ricardo showed signs of +insubordination, and vehemently opposed their desire. +</p> + +<p> +“O! no!” she exclaimed; “nothink won’t ever make <i>me</i> henter that dark +’ole again! Wasn’t it that as brought the whole of my misfortins on my +’ead? It lost me Joe and mother and the rest, and I won’t never try it +again. You didn’t ought to arsk me, Sig-nor! You deceived me onst, and +I said it should be for the larst time. If I’d a known as when I went +to sleep, ghosties and sperrits and shadders walked about the room, +I’d ’ave chucked all the physic out of the winder. But never +again—no! not if you paid me a ’undred pounds!” +</p> + +<p> +And turning her back, Mrs. Ricardo walked away into her kitchen. +</p> + +<p> +The Professor and the Doctor looked at each other with comical dismay. +</p> + +<p> +“Is she in earnest, do you think?” whispered Ricardo to his friend. +</p> + +<p> +Steinberg made a grimace. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know I’m sure. I don’t know enough of women, but one thing is +certain—performing the office of a medium does not come within the +legalities of Marriage, and if she will not do it of her own free will +you have no means by which you can compel her!” +</p> + +<p> +The men were silent for a few minutes, and then the Professor +exclaimed, +</p> + +<p> +“Karl! don’t look at me in that way, as if you thought I’d bought ‘a +pig in a poke!’ ” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t say that, but I think you have a difficult task before +you—to convince Ignorance that it is a duty which it owes to Mankind, +to sacrifice itself for the good of the Human Race. However, Hannah +has a kind heart and an amiable nature, and if you will have patience, +I daresay you may be able to induce her to do, for love of you, what +she would refuse on compulsion. Cheer up, Ricardo. Don’t look so +down-hearted, man, but tell your wife to get the supper ready and let +us all try to be jolly together!” +</p> + +<p> +“But I shall not see Leonora!” said the Professor, in a tone of +disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +“Not to-night, that’s certain, unless she comes to you in your dreams. +But it is only a pleasure deferred! Hannah will come round after a +while. Take my advice, and don’t mention the subject again to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo did as his friend suggested, and when the supper was ready, he +insisted upon Hannah coming into the room and sitting down to table +with them. She was very shy and awkward, and looked all the time as if +she longed to bolt back to her own domains, but the two gentlemen +reassured her, by taking no notice of her ignorance of their ways, and +talking to each other, rather than to her. When the supper table was +cleared, Ricardo asked her to bring in her needle-work and sit with +them, but though she acquiesced in his desire, she did not reappear, +and the friends finished the evening alone. +</p> + +<p> +She felt that she had wounded her husband, and disappointed him in +some way, by refusing to go into the séance chamber, and she was +fearful of the request being renewed. +</p> + +<p> +The next day passed much the same. The Professor spoke kindly to her, +when he had occasion to speak, but he addressed her as seldom as +possible, and sat for the greater part of the time that he spent at +home, with his head buried in his hands. +</p> + +<p> +On the third day, whilst the Doctor was out, Hannah brought her +husband an apple-green merino dress, and a bright blue bonnet, and +some under-linen which she had purchased with part of the money he had +given her. +</p> + +<p> +“I never ’ad sich beautiful things in my life afore,” she said, with a +broad grin, as she displayed them for his approval, “ain’t they +’ansome?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very pretty, indeed, Hannah—very pretty!” replied the Professor, as +he returned to his book. +</p> + +<p> +“I never ’ad so much money in my ’and at a time afore either,” +continued Hannah, “and I thought these would be nice for me to walk +out with you, Sig-nor, in the Parks or elsewheres!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! my girl, yes!” he said, as he raised his head for an instant and +smiled at her. +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo’s smile was very sweet. It broke Hannah down completely, and +she began to sob. +</p> + +<p> +“Why! what’s the matter now?” he inquired. “Is there anything more +that you want, my dear? If there is, and I can afford it, it shall be +yours.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! no! no! ’tain’t that,” cried the girl, “but you’ve been that good +to me, Sig-nor, and I can see as you’re not ’appy, and I’m afeared +you’re sorry now that you was so foolish as to marry a pore, ignorant +creetur like me. I’d been fitter for Joe, Sir, but even ’<i>e</i> didn’t +think me good enough, and I’m so feared you’ve repented of your +goodness to me.” +</p> + +<p> +And Hannah wept unaffectedly. The Professor drew her towards him and +kissed her wet cheek. “You are quite mistaken, my dear. I do not +regret, nor repent, anything. But if you really think that I have been +kind to you, wouldn’t you like to do something for me in return?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d cut off my right ’and for you this moment,” replied Hannah, with +fervour. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sit down by my side, and let me tell you a little story. When I +was a young man, Hannah, five-and-twenty years ago, I married a young +lady, whom I loved very much indeed!” +</p> + +<p> +“Lor!” cried the girl, “you was married to a real lady, and yet you +can bear with me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! she died! I need not tell you how she died, but her death made +me a very miserable man, because we had had a little misunderstanding +beforehand, and it happened so suddenly, that there was no time for a +reconciliation. The wish to see her, or hear from her again, haunted +me for years, but I thought there was no hope of it, until I fell upon +some old scientific books and learned that it is possible for those +whom we call dead, to re-visit this earth!” +</p> + +<p> +“Lor!” exclaimed Hannah, with wide open eyes, “but that’s all +rubbidge, sure-ly!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why! how can you ask me such a question? What do you suppose the +apparitions—the ladies and gentlemen—whom you see sometimes, are?” +</p> + +<p> +“I dunno, I’m sure! Shadders, I s’pose, but they gives me the creeps! +O! Sig-nor I can’t abear ’em! I’d rayther run a hundred miles the +other way.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why do you fear them, Hannah? They cannot harm you!” +</p> + +<p> +“I dunno that! They looks very queer sometimes, and the woices as I +’ears—gruff ’uns and squeaky ’uns!—they makes me trimble all over, +as if I’d got cold!” +</p> + +<p> +“But they cannot hurt you, Hannah,” persisted the Professor, “and when +I met you at Mrs. Battleby’s, and heard that you possessed that +wonderful capacity for seeing spirits, I was delighted. I felt that my +dead wife would come back to me through you, and she has! On three +occasions I have communicated with her, but not long enough to hear +her say that she has forgiven me, and loves me still—and now, just +when I hoped I should see her as often as I chose, you tell me you +will not sit with me any more! That is what has made me sad, Hannah.” +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding her rough training and ignorance, Hannah had much +natural intelligence, and she realised the situation at once. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what you married me for, then,” she remarked. +</p> + +<p> +The Professor felt ashamed. He did not know what to say. He began by +answering, “No! no!” but broke off short. +</p> + +<p> +“I will not tell you a lie,” he said. “When I married you, my dear, I +certainly did hope that, having you always with me, I should also have +the constant pleasure of communicating with my dead wife. For I am +getting an old man now, Hannah, and I should like to make sure that +there is another life, before I quit this one. But all that I said to +you, when I asked you to become my wife, was true. I will make your +future my care to the utmost of my ability, and when I die, you will +find that you are not left quite penniless. My savings have been +scanty, but, such as they are, they will all be yours. It was your +mediumship (by which I mean your power of seeing and attracting +spirits from the other world), that first drew me to you, Hannah, but +if you really dislike sitting with me, I will not ask you to do so +again. And in all other things, you will find me the same, I hope, and +your friend, my dear, till Death parts us.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” said the girl, thoughtfully, “I’m to take all, as you may +say, and give nothink in return. I see it plain now, Professor, and +I’m not that sort, as you’ll find. I know you’re good and true, and +that you’ll take care as the sperrits and things don’t ’urt me, while +I’m asleep. So, if you please, I’ll sit as often as you wishes, and +we’ll go into the dark room to-night, as soon as the Doctor returns +’ome. I couldn’t ’ave ever wore this beautiful gownd,” added Hannah +with a sob in her throat, “and remembered the while as you give it me, +and I ’ad done nothink for you in return. So that’s settled, ain’t +it?—and you won’t never ’ear me say again as I won’t do anythink as +you arsk me!” +</p> + +<p> +And from that day the séances commenced anew. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch10"> +CHAPTER X. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Notwithstanding</span> her acquiescence, Hannah displayed such genuine +terror at the idea of entering the dark séance room, that Ricardo had +pity on her, and held a sitting downstairs first, at which he +consulted “James” as to what was best to be done. By his advice, the +black hangings were taken down, and a cabinet formed by a curtain hung +across one corner of the apartment, behind which was placed a chair. A +lamp was lit and the two men were directed to sit at the table, +holding Hannah’s hands in either of theirs. Feeling herself in the +presence of her husband and his friend, the girl’s fears were allayed, +and in a few minutes, she went under control, and wresting her hands +from their grasp, rose and entered the cabinet of her own accord. Then +“James” told Ricardo and Steinberg to lower the light until it was a +mere glimmer—to close the door—and to seat themselves at the further +end of the little chamber. +</p> + +<p> +Steinberg was earnest in his pursuit of Science—Ricardo, in his +pursuit of Leonora—so they did as they were directed, and waited +patiently for the result. In an incredibly short space of time, the +curtain was shaken—then pulled asunder—and the laughing, mischievous +face of Leonora peeped out. The Professor was in ecstasy. He knelt +down upon the bare floor, as though he were worshipping a divine +creature. But his adoration was not given, because the appearance of a +spirit from the dead endowed him with the blessed certainty of +Everlasting Life, but because the materialised spirit was the creature +of his imagination. Steinberg, on the other hand, regarded the +appearance of Leonora with unstinted wonder and satisfaction, simply +because her coming was another step gained in the difficult task which +he had set himself to learn. As a Spirit, he hailed her advent with +the keenest interest—as a Woman, he did not admire either her person +or herself. She evinced none of the sorrow which a wife, whose +thoughtlessness at the least, had led her husband into a serious +crime, might have been supposed to feel—neither did she exhibit much +pleasure at meeting him again. Her behaviour was more that of a +coquette, who wished to regain the admiration she had forfeited, than +of a loving woman. She smiled and beckoned to Ricardo, but as soon as +he approached the cabinet, she would dart inside and be lost to view. +Apparently she was, or had been, a very handsome woman, but there was +nothing attractive in her appearance. Her large black eyes were void +of tenderness—her smiles were affected—each motion of her supple +body seemed made in order to raise Ricardo’s ardour, without +gratifying it. Had she not been his friend’s wife, the Doctor would +have called her by some opprobrious epithets—as it was, he regarded +her simply as a curiosity, and hailed her coming only because she +came. +</p> + +<p> +The advent of Mrs. Carlile had a different effect upon him. She had +been only his friend—scarcely that. Had she lived, he would have +spoken of her as his patient. But her unfortunate and early death, +occurring, as it did, under his own hands, had invested her memory +with a certain tender compassion, which gave him the right, as it +were, to hail her as a friend from the other Land. She came, not only +to convince him of the Great Truth, but to console and comfort him +under his disappointment. She came with pity and forgiveness beaming +from her eyes, and trembling on her lips, and made him feel, each time +he saw her, that Earth was valueless and the next World the Haven to +which we must look for consolation. +</p> + +<p> +The sittings, once more begun, were continued steadily every evening. +Neither Ricardo, nor Steinberg, were aware of the danger that might +accrue to the medium from these frequent séances. Hannah did not seem +to suffer from sitting, and once she had overcome her childish fear of +the Invisibles, declared herself ready to gratify their curiosity, +whenever they asked her to do so. +</p> + +<p> +Doctor Steinberg was only at home three evenings in the week, but the +Professor sat with his wife, whether his friend joined them or not, +and frequently in the daytime he would take Hannah up into the séance +chamber, and hold converse with Leonora all by himself. +</p> + +<p> +She did not always come to him. These things are not ordered by our +earthly wishes, and we have no control over them. Often, when +Steinberg was anxiously awaiting the arrival of Mrs. +Carlile—sometimes, when she had even promised to come to him—a +figure would emerge from the cabinet, and on inspection prove to be +that of an old man, utterly unknown to either of them—or a child +would run across the room, as if in play, and, startled by their +addressing it, run behind the curtain again and be seen no more. To +the doctor, who looked upon these manifestations as fresh proofs of +Immortality, one spirit was as good as another, but to the Professor, +whose whole thoughts were fixed upon Leonora, such disappointments +fell keenly, and he would not be satisfied until he had sat again to +give Leonora an opportunity of manifesting her presence to him. +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly, he took to having séances by himself, and Hannah, who +had never objected to doing as he asked since that first day, became +his willing victim. Indeed, the girl even seemed to grow to like being +a medium—her low spirits disappeared—she often went singing about +the house—and no more was heard of her false young man, nor of her +mother. +</p> + +<p> +One afternoon as the Professor sat alone in the séance chamber, with +Hannah entranced behind the curtain, the now familiar form of Leonora +stepped out of the cabinet. She was clothed in some soft, clinging +white material which showed plainly the lissom figure beneath it—her +dark hair was unbound and fell below her waist—her small white hand +beckoned him to approach her. Ricardo crept on tiptoe to the dark +curtain that divided them. He was quite alone—Steinberg was miles +away and Hannah lay unconscious in her chair—there was none but +Heaven to listen to what he might say to his lost wife. +</p> + +<p> +“Leonora!” he exclaimed, “my one, only Darling! Come to me and lay +your cheek on mine! Whatever you were, whatever you did, you are still +the same to me—the peerless, beautiful bride, whom I held to my heart +during so many blissful years! Do you remember the villa down in +Parma, to which I took you for our honeymoon, Leonora? Do you recall +the happy evening that we were first man and wife—how we wandered +into the gardens, and sat down on a bank, covered with delicious +violets whose breath intoxicated us with pleasure. You cast yourself +across my knees, and laid your lovely head upon my breast—then I +seemed to realise, for the first time, that you were all my own. Our +lips met—I drank in your sweet breath, sweeter than the violets upon +which we sat—and we mutually trembled with the ecstasy of the +contact. Ah! Leonora, my dearest, that was twenty-five long weary +years ago! I am an old man now, but I have never forgotten—I never +shall forget! Come once more and press your sweet lips to mine as you +did in that unforgotten moment, and I shall be rewarded for all the +efforts I have made—the sacrifice I have gone through—in order to +draw you once more to my heart again!” +</p> + +<p> +The tantalising face peeped out from the curtain—the lips pouted—but +as Ricardo drew near to kiss her, Leonora darted like an arrow into +the cabinet and evaded him. It was like the cup of Tantalus, ever +presented, brimming with sparkling liquid, only to be withdrawn as +soon as approached. +</p> + +<p> +The Professor breathed a heart-felt sigh as he leaned against the +curtain, to see if he could hear any movement going on behind it. But +all was still as the grave! +</p> + +<p> +“My wife—my wife——” moaned the unhappy man, “speak to me, if you +cannot touch me. I feel the reason. My contact is too earthly for you, +pure as you have become!—the hands that slew you are too foul to +clasp with yours. But tell me—Leonora! I am hanging on your +words—tell me the whole truth. You know I could not be angry with you +now! <i>Were you guilty with Centi?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +The mobile face again appeared round a corner of the curtain, and the +rosy lips murmured, “No!” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>No?</i> O! my God! then I am a murderer of the deepest dye! I have +slain my other half—she, whom I had sworn to love and cherish! What +Hell will be deep enough for me? What devil urged me on to strike that +fatal blow? Heavens! I can see it now, your pallid, startled face—the +crimson blood that stained your white breast—that issued from your +livid lips—can hear the sigh with which your pure spirit took wing, +to bear witness against me before the Throne! O! Leonora, my wife! my +angel! say that you forgive my rash act—my unfounded jealousy!” +</p> + +<p> +The Spirit again appeared, and nodded its head solemnly. +</p> + +<p> +“I knew you would forgive, dear Angel, who were so much too good for +such a wretch as I am, but will Heaven forgive? that is the question? +Shall I join you wherever you may be? Shall we be lovers and friends +again in the Eternal World?” +</p> + +<p> +But to this question there was no reply. Ricardo knelt where he had +stood, and wept like a child. His life had been one long suffering for +the awful deed he had committed, and now, to hear that it had been +done in vain—that he had murdered an innocent woman—she, who, but +for his insensate jealousy and fury, might have lived to be the mother +of his children and the pride and comfort of his old age—was too +much. It smote him to the ground, and struck a blow at his heart, from +which he never recovered. +</p> + +<p> +He felt that he could bear no more and left the séance room, without +further comment. Even to Steinberg, he never revealed what had taken +place between himself and Leonora that day, but he seized every +opportunity of communicating with her, until he came to spend half his +leisure moments in the séance chamber. +</p> + +<p> +Doctor Steinberg perceived the alteration in his friend’s spirits, but +attributed it to his health, which was not satisfactory. The Professor +still went about his daily work, but he taught in a spiritless, +listless fashion, and his pupils were not so quick to follow his +instructions as they were wont to be. When he returned home, instead +of interesting himself in a book, as he had been used to do, he would +sit for hours with folded arms, silent and meditative. The only times +when he evinced any enthusiasm, were those spent in the séance +chamber, though Leonora came no oftener than the other influences who +controlled Hannah, and when she did come, gave scarcely any +information on subjects connected with her present life. +</p> + +<p> +But if the Professor’s health and spirits appeared to fail, those of +Mrs. Ricardo rose in proportion. She seemed to have entirely overcome +her dread of the “sperrits” and “shadders” and “woices”, and often +said it was unfair that the Doctor or the Professor did not sit in +their turn, and let her share their privilege of interviewing the +friends from the other World. From having been heavy and somewhat +sullen, she developed quite a lively disposition, and Steinberg was +astonished sometimes on reaching home, to hear her singing over her +work, an accomplishment for which she had never exhibited any taste +before. +</p> + +<p> +She became less shy also of remaining in the society of her husband +and his friend, and made a point of taking her meals with them, by +which means she soon got in the way of joining in the conversation, +and dropped many of her coarse sayings and mispronounced words. +</p> + +<p> +She improved so quickly indeed, as to surprise Steinberg, who had +imagined her hitherto to be one of the dullest mortals in creation. It +was not long before he mentioned the subject to the Professor. +</p> + +<p> +“How wonderfully Hannah has improved in her pronunciation, lately,” he +remarked. “I couldn’t have believed it possible that any one could +have made such rapid strides. Have you been giving her private lessons +during my absence, Ricardo?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! indeed,” answered the Professor, in the weary tone he had assumed +of late, “I seldom see her, except in the séance room. Has she +improved, Steinberg? I had not noticed it. But there was room for it, +Heaven knows! I suppose it is listening to our conversation.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose so too, but Hannah must be very clever naturally, to have +caught our accent so soon. And she is so much more lively into the +bargain. I heard her singing, or rather humming, the air of ‘<i>Au clair +de la lune</i>,’ yesterday. Now, where can she have caught that up? It is +essentially French. She must have heard you, or me, whistling it. And +did you observe this evening that she has plaited that mass of hair of +hers, and twisted it round her head at the back? We shall see her +wearing kid boots with heels next. Bravo! Hannah!” +</p> + +<p> +“You look at her more than I do,” replied Ricardo. “She is a good +enough girl, and I have no fault to find with her. But I hope she will +not get any extravagant ideas, because I cannot afford to humour them. +I wonder who can have been putting such absurd notions into her head.” +</p> + +<p> +“No one, unless it be yourself. You should feel flattered, Ricardo, +that your wife shows any wish to please you. She is certainly vastly +improved. You cannot find fault with her for that! What have you been +doing with yourself to-day? Talking with Leonora, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“I entered the séance room, but she did not come,” replied Ricardo, +in a discontented tone, “she has not been so regularly lately. I +cannot understand the reason. Can it be any falling-off in the medium? +Would her want of interest in Spiritualism account for it?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! certainly not!” Steinberg quickly exclaimed. “How can you +expect the poor girl to take any interest in it, when she is under +control all the time, and knows nothing of what occurs. Hannah has +more than once expressed her disappointment to me, that she should be +so completely shut out from what seems to give us so much pleasure. I +think it is most unselfish of her to sit so often and so cheerfully. +Besides, she is as strong in health as ever! How can she be +responsible for Leonora not coming so often?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know,” said Ricardo, peevishly, “but the fact remains. An old +woman whom I cannot recognise, seems to have taken her place the last +few days. I dare not show my impatience at the change, but I am +longing all the time for her to go away and let my wife come instead.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! my friend, you are not a Scientist! You do not pursue this +interesting study in order to find out the secret of Everlasting Life, +but only to gratify your personal longing to see your dead wife again. +And now that she has come, you are less satisfied than before. What is +the reason? Has she not spoken to you? Has she not solved the mystery +that oppressed you? Are you not yet aware whether that blow was struck +with justice, or not?” +</p> + +<p> +“If I were, I should not feel inclined to discuss the question with +one who was a stranger to her,” said Ricardo, in a tone very unlike +himself. “The confidences which pass between husband and wife should +be sacred.” +</p> + +<p> +“I agree with you there, so let us say no more about it. You mooted +the subject to me, or I should not have presumed to mention it again. +But I think you sit too often. These researches, if carried to +extremes, are apt to prove harmful to both mind and body. Come to the +theatre with me this evening! It will divert you. I have a box for the +Adelphi. Let us take Hannah with us. She is so much more lively +lately, that I think it will interest her. She seems to be enjoying +life, poor child, for the first time.” +</p> + +<p> +The Professor being agreeable, Steinberg’s plan was carried out, and +Hannah thoroughly enjoyed her evening. The Doctor was not mistaken. +The change in her was quite as palpable as that in her husband. Live +as long as she might, she would never have a lissom figure, nor a +beautiful face, but a kind of brightness had settled over her +features, which much redeemed their homeliness, and her attempts at +tidiness did not at all events deteriorate from them. +</p> + +<p> +She laughed and cried at all the right places throughout the melodrama +and returned home in high good humour with both her friends. +</p> + +<p> +But what still more surprised Steinberg, as time went on, was to see +the gross humility that had overpowered the girl, entirely disappear, +to give place to a species of pride in her attainments as a medium—as +if she had suddenly waked up to a consciousness of the value she was +to Ricardo, and the difficulty he would find in replacing her, if she +were gone. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t sit to-day,” he overheard her say to the Professor, “so it’s +no good your asking me! Can’t you see that I’m dead tired from sitting +so long yesterday? Do you suppose that I don’t waste my strength, as +well as yours, over these séances? And what is it all for?—so that +you may see the woman you cared for, and talk love nonsense to her! I +tell you, Professor, there ain’t many wives in this world who would do +as much for their husbands. You treats me as if I had no feelings. I’m +making a dress for Sundays, and haven’t been able to put a stitch in +it all the week, so you must wait for your séance till I choose to +give it you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” Steinberg heard Ricardo answer meekly, “never mind, my +dear! I’ll go for a little walk instead.” +</p> + +<p> +As soon as he had left the house, Steinberg took Hannah to task for +her treatment of him. +</p> + +<p> +“I am surprised to hear you speak like that to your husband, Hannah! +Do you know what I should have done if you had been my wife?” +</p> + +<p> +“But I ain’t your wife,” replied Hannah, with a certain arch look that +startled him—so little had he considered the girl capable of giving +it with her usually dull, lack-lustre eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I am quite aware of that! You’d have to obey me if you were! But you +have no right to speak so rudely to the Professor, especially when you +consider that you owe everything to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do I?” retorted the girl, “I think the boot’s on the other foot! I +consider that he owes everything to me! Haven’t I brought his wife +back to him, that he was hankering after for years. Who else could +’ave done that, eh? Why! I’ve heard you say yourself, that I’m the +most wonderful medium in the world! I think it’s six of one and half a +dozen of the other, when you come to look at it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe, Hannah, and I know you make him a good kind wife on the whole. +But you mustn’t forget that he’s an old man now, and has broken down +considerably during the last few months. So you must be more +considerate of him than ever. He works too hard for his strength. +Sometimes I am afraid it will not hold out much longer!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! he’s all right,” said Hannah, with a lack of feeling that struck +the Doctor as not only very unlike her usual disposition, but very +contemptible into the bargain. “Them old men never die! Though I don’t +s’pose there’d be much left for me, if he did!” +</p> + +<p> +“You are unfeeling—unnatural—I am ashamed of you, Hannah,” exclaimed +Steinberg, as he rose to leave her, “and you forget that you are +speaking of <i>my friend</i>. I have a great affection for the Professor, +and if anything happened to him, I should be deeply grieved.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I didn’t say any ’arm,” replied the girl sullenly, as she +returned to her work. +</p> + +<p> +This conversation did not seem to make any coolness on Hannah’s part +towards the Doctor—on the contrary, she appeared to like him all the +better for speaking in defence of his friend. She commenced to hang +about him more than usual, on the occasions of his being at home, and +once or twice Steinberg detected a tone in her voice, or a glance in +her eye, which struck him unpleasantly at the moment, and still more +so, when he came to reflect upon the cause. What could she mean by +them? Surely, she could never imagine that he would play his nearest +friend false, for the sake of a face and figure like hers? +</p> + +<p> +He put the idea away from him, again and again, as derogatory to +himself and the honour of Ricardo’s wife—but it haunted him all the +same. Has the reader ever encountered pictured eyes of villainy or +lust which have seemed to follow him wherever he went? So did the eyes +of Hannah Ricardo follow Steinberg, until he was fain to remember +them, whether he would or no. She never betrayed herself, nor said a +word that might be construed to her own undoing—but she gave +Steinberg the impression, that the feeling was there, all the same. +</p> + +<p> +He began to avoid her, as much as possible, leaving the cottage as +early as he could, and returning late. He was rather an attractive +young man, as has been said before—being only thirty years old, and +having a fair German face, which struck most people as pleasant to +look upon. +</p> + +<p> +He was just pondering upon the best excuse for dissolving partnership +with the Ricardos altogether, when the Wheel of Fortune did for him +what he was contemplating doing for himself. He had come to London +poor and without expectations, when by one of those strokes of good +fortune that do occasionally happen in this world, a rich uncle of his +died suddenly in Berlin, and left him his entire fortune. He rushed to +the Professor with the news, almost unable to believe it to be true. +</p> + +<p> +“My dearest friend, I am a wealthy man! My good uncle the Baron von +Steinberg, who was the richest publisher in Berlin, has died and left +me everything—everything! Congratulate me! Give me your hand! Let me +feel that my best friend is glad with me! <i>Ach! Himmel!</i> we will be +happy now, and have a good time together.” +</p> + +<p> +“A thousand congratulations, my dear Steinberg,” cried the Professor, +warmly wringing his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“But I must leave you! I must go to Berlin without delay. The lawyers +have written for me. As yet I know nothing but the fact, but when I +get there, I will write to you, dear Ricardo, and tell you all.” +</p> + +<p> +“And won’t you come back to the cottage?” inquired Hannah. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know, Hannah. All is vague at present, except that this good +luck has befallen me! My uncle’s fortune amounted, so I am told, to +many thousand pounds a year, so perhaps I may have to live in Berlin. +I cannot tell, but be sure of one thing—that I will never forget you, +my dear Ricardo, nor all the interest you have shown in me. Farewell!” +</p> + +<p> +The men grasped hands again, whilst Hannah looked on and murmured, +</p> + +<p> +“Thousands of pounds a year! Some people are lucky! Why didn’t <i>he</i> +take a fancy for me, instead of the other?” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch11"> +CHAPTER XI. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">The</span> Professor felt very dull for the first few days after Karl +Steinberg had left them for Berlin. He rejoiced at the good fortune +that had befallen his friend, but he feared it might prove a +separation between them. With only Hannah to talk to, he felt more +lonely than he had ever done in Mrs. Battleby’s apartments. +</p> + +<p> +He watched for the post eagerly, to bring him news of his absent +companion, and in about ten days his patience was rewarded by +receiving a letter from Steinberg. +</p> + +<p> +The Doctor wrote gaily and enthusiastically. He seemed not to have a +care left in the world. +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“Congratulate me, my very kind friend,” he commenced; “I am a +wealthier man than I imagined. We laid my good uncle to rest in the +family vault of the Von Steinbergs, three days after my arrival in +Berlin. He was a childless man, and when the will was read I found +that (with the exception of a liberal life-allowance to his widow) he +had left everything, without reserve, to your humble servant. His +house in Berlin—his château at Wiesbaden—his fortune, amounting to +between three and four thousand a year—and all his personal property, +which includes one of the finest private picture galleries in the +country. +</p> + +<p> +“Am I not lucky? I feared at first lest this generous bequest should +involve my living in Germany, perhaps looking after landed estate or +farming country property (which is not at all in my line, my dear +Ricardo, as you are aware). But no! Even here, I am fortunate, as the +greater part of the legacy is in hard cash, and the houses can readily +be disposed of. I am free, therefore, to do as I like and live where I +choose, and all my wishes tend towards London, the grandest city in +the world. You may expect, therefore, before very long, to see me +again. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall take a house in Town, and collect around me all those whom I +love, or take an interest in. And for the future, I shall resume my +right of writing ‘von’ before my name, which I dropped when I entered +on my duties at the Hospital. Ah! those dreary days and sleepless +nights! Thank Heaven! they are over for ever! I can, at least, live +the remainder of my life as best pleases myself. But I can never, +never, under any circumstances, forget my very best friend, and you +know what his name is, without my telling you. +</p> + +<p> +“The first place I visit on my return, will be the little cottage at +Hampstead, when, tell Mrs. Ricardo, I shall expect her to brew the +very best cup of tea of which she is capable, in honour of my uncle’s +fortune and title. +</p> + +<p class="rt1 mt1"> +“Ever yours, with warm affection,<br> +“<span class="sc">Karl von Steinberg</span>.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +The Professor read this letter to himself—then aloud to +Hannah—finally laying it down upon the table with a deep sigh. +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t you glad?” demanded his wife, shrewdly regarding the old man, +“the Doctor’ll ’ave a fine ’ouse now, and everythink of the best, and +that’s as good as saying as you’ll ’ave it,—and me, too, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know, Hannah,” he replied; “when men grow rich, they are too +often apt to forget their poorer friends. Besides, Von Steinberg’s +fortune will attract people of equal position round his table, and we +are not fit to associate with such.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” asked Hannah, broadly. +</p> + +<p> +She had a household broom in her hands at the time, and she leant her +chin upon the handle, and stared the Professor well in the face. +</p> + +<p> +“Why ain’t we as good as any other of ’is friends—let them be who +they may?” she asked, fixing her large eyes upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! my dear, it is rather unnecessary to put such a question,” +replied Ricardo, “money makes money, you know, and we have none. Karl +will have a grand house, doubtless, and give big parties, and rich and +titled people will attend them—people with whom you and I have +nothing to do! He is not only rich, you see! He is no longer a doctor, +but a Baron, and can hold his own with any one in the land.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t a Markiss higher than a Baron?” demanded Hannah, and her +husband, not dreaming in what direction the conversation was tending, +answered gravely, “Why! of course!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, you’re higher than him,” retorted his wife, “so why shouldn’t +you mix with any nobs as he gets round him?” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo looked up in amazement. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>I</i> am higher than Von Steinberg? What do you mean?” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Why! ain’t you a Markiss?” reiterated Hannah, still sturdily +regarding him from over the broom; “the Markiss of Sorrento? If you’re +bigger than the Doctor, why should you mind going among ’is friends? +Money don’t count beside name. I’ve often ’eard you say that to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“But who—<i>who</i>—” said the Professor, stammering, “ever told you +anything about my having a title? Has Steinberg betrayed my trust? You +have never known me, except as Professor Ricardo! What do you mean by +all this talk about a Marquis?” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah looked as if she had been suddenly struck foolish. The light +faded out of her flat, unmeaning face—she seemed as if she were +scared at what she had been led into saying. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know, I’m sure,” she replied, with a quivering lip, as if she +were about to cry, “unless I dreamt it! Some one must ’ave told it me. +Markiss dee Sorrento! Yes! that’s it! Markiss dee Sorrento! There’s a +woice repeating it in my ears now! And—and—<i>the proof of it</i> is in +that drawer,” she continued rapidly, as she slapped her hand down upon +a small writing-table where the Professor kept his private papers. +</p> + +<p> +Now the title deeds of the marquisate and lands of Sorrento were still +in the Professor’s possession, lest a change of dynasty might restore +his family rights to him. But he always kept them in a small iron safe +under his bed. He had destroyed every other trace of the rank and +position he had once held amongst men, and felt certain that nothing +could be found in his desk to betray them. So he answered, somewhat +pettishly, +</p> + +<p> +“These voices in your ears, Hannah, are not telling you the truth! You +had much better go and attend to your household duties, and leave off +talking rubbish!” +</p> + +<p> +But at these words Hannah turned a face upon him, which he could +hardly recognise as her own. Her usually dull eyes were blazing with +passion—and her tones were loud and authoritative, as she exclaimed, +</p> + +<p> +“It is <i>you</i> who are not telling the truth! The proofs of what I say +are in that drawer, and I will not leave the room until you open it!” +</p> + +<p> +The Professor was really frightened. He felt confident that nothing +was in the drawer that could identify his name and title, so, more to +pacify her and restore peace between them than to prove his word, he +drew forth his bunch of keys, and inserting one in the keyhole, pulled +the drawer open. It apparently contained nothing but odd sheets of +writing paper, and a few old letters. +</p> + +<p> +“Now! are you satisfied that you are wrong?” he said, turning to his +wife. +</p> + +<p> +But Hannah seemed possessed by the fury of a demon. She flew at the +papers and scattered them all over the floor by a twist of her hand. +Still she was not content, but scratched about the bottom of the +receptacle as if she were blind or acting under some spell, when she +suddenly ceased, and drew from the inmost recesses of the drawer, a +small card, yellow with age, which had become wedged at the back. She +held it to the light with a discordant chuckle of triumph. On it was +printed in flourishing Italian characters, “Marchese di Sorrento.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is that?” she cried, holding it out to the Professor, “is that +your name, or is it not?” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo was fain to confess the truth. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down, Hannah, my dear,” he said, “compose yourself, I beg of you! +There is no need for you to be angry with me! Be patient and I will +tell you the whole story.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that your name, or is it not?” repeated the girl, as she +flourished the card in his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! yes! it is, will that content you? But I shall never use it +again, Hannah! I have very good reasons for not doing so, and you must +regard this discovery on your part as if it had never been. Do you +understand me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know as I do,” said Hannah; “this is your true name, you +say?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! I am the Marchese di Sorrento,” replied Ricardo, with some +degree of pride, “but, as I said before, I have discarded the title +and consider that it is no longer mine! I am sorry you ever found it +out, my dear. I should never have told you myself, but as it is, you +must forget it as soon as you can.” +</p> + +<p> +“If it’s your name, it’s mine too,” said Hannah, with an obstinate +look about the mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“It <i>would</i> have been so, had I retained it,” interposed the +Professor, quietly, “but since I choose to be known only as Signor +Ricardo, my wife is Madame, or Mrs. Ricardo—nothing more!” +</p> + +<p> +“If it’s mine, it’s mine,” returned Hannah, doggedly, “and I don’t see +why I’m to be called out of my name! Why should Mrs. Barnett, the +grocer’s wife, call me ‘Missus’, when she ought to say ‘my lady?’ I +’eard ’er telling another customer larst night, as I was a foreigner! +Like ’er impidence! I’ll shew ’er if I’m a foreigner! I’ll make ’er +say ‘my lady’ next time she speaks to me, or I’ll get all our things +from Addison’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hannah! Hannah! for Heaven’s sake, don’t make us the laughing stock +of Hampstead,” exclaimed the Professor, in genuine distress, “however +true the story may be, no one will believe it from your lips. They +will ask you, if you are a lady, <i>why</i> you do all the house-work by +yourself. Such people as you speak of, only value their acquaintances +by the amount of money they may happen to possess.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I don’t see why I shouldn’t ’ave a servant to help me!” replied +Hannah, boldly. “If I’m a Markiness, it isn’t fit as I should cook and +scrub and what not, making my ’ands filthy, and spoiling my +complexion. I’ve been going to speak to you about that afore, +Professor—I mean Markiss——” +</p> + +<p> +“O! Hannah! for God’s sake, don’t call me by that name!” cried poor +Ricardo, with both his fingers in his ears. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! I’m sure!” exclaimed his wife. “I s’pose <i>she</i> called you by +it, or summat very similar, but I ain’t good enough, eh? Well! since +I’ve a right to it, I’m going to use it, and so I tells you straight, +and the sooner you gets accustomed to it, the better. ’Tain’t much as +I got by marrying of you, Markiss, so you might as well leave me the +name. ’Twon’t bring in bread and butter anyway!” +</p> + +<p> +“I know it, and what is the use of using a title which you cannot keep +up in appearance? We have only enough money to live on, and I see no +chance of our ever having more.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know about that!” replied the girl, with a cunning look, “I +know of a way by which money could be made, and pretty sharp, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean? If you are correct, you will find me willing enough +to take advantage of it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! you just give out as I can make the sperrits and things walk +about the room, and make folks pay to come and see them, and you’d +make a fortune. I’ve ’eard Steinberg say so, times out of mind!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! no! no!” exclaimed the Professor, in disgust. “What! make the +vision of my Leonora common property? Let every Jack and Jill, who has +the money to enable them, come and gape at her, sharers with me in +this heavenly pleasure! Never! Hannah, never! I cannot prevent your +adopting my title if you refuse to comply with my request that you +should not do so, but I utterly forbid your turning your divine gift +into a merchandise. I am afraid you have never estimated it at its +real value!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! I can’t say I see much fun in it myself,” replied Hannah, +grinning, “but it got me out of a precious muddle, didn’t it? I don’t +know what I should have done at that time, Professor, if you ’adn’t +taken a fancy to sperrits and things!” +</p> + +<p> +“You appear to have conquered all your fear of them, Hannah,” remarked +the Professor, musingly. “You have altered in many ways lately! I +never hear you object to the cabinet now, nor express terror of the +spirits, in any way.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve no call left to be feared of them,” replied his wife, still +grinning, as if her mediumship were an excellent joke. “They’re allays +after me, day and night! I’ve got so used to them, that I don’t take +no more notice of them than I do of you. Let them go on with their +larks, and leave me to go on with mine!” +</p> + +<p> +“And your father and mother, and Joe, Hannah?” continued the +Professor, a little wistfully; “do you never think of them now, +either?” +</p> + +<p> +It seemed as if he would have liked to hear her say that she still +hankered after her people and her home. But her grin remained +unabated. +</p> + +<p> +“Not often,” she replied; “they ain’t no good to me now! As for Joe, +he may go to the devil for aught I care!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! hush! hush! hush!” cried the Professor. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s of no use your saying, ‘ ’ush! ’ush! ’ush!’ to me, Sig-nor! You +don’t want me to be ’ankering after a young man now that I’m the +Markiness dee Sorrento, do you? Which I don’t, I’m sure! I often +wonders ’ow I could ever ’ave fancied Joe, with his coarse ’air, and +his pig’s eyes! I’m sure if I ’ad my rights and a ’ouse fit for a +Markiness, I would never arsk ’im into it! I’d ’ave no one under a +Barrow-knight, or a squire, within the walls. I should know ’ow to +play my part, you bet, Professor—I means, Markiss!” +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo sighed. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! my poor girl, I fear you will never have the opportunity of +trying it,” he said. “But will you give me a séance this evening! I +feel rather low-spirited, and it will cheer me and do me good.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! you can ’ave it and welcome,” replied Hannah, “but, I say Markiss, +it do seem a pity now, to ’ave all this fuss, and two good hours +wasted, only for you, don’t it? And if we ’ad a dozen or so of +strangers with their ’alf guinea each, why, I’d make more in a night +than you can do in a week.” +</p> + +<p> +She hung coaxingly over him, as she spoke, but Ricardo put her away, +as though the suggestion had come from the Evil One. +</p> + +<p> +“I have said ‘No!’ already, and I would repeat it a thousand times!” +he ejaculated. “You don’t know what you are talking of! Your +insinuation is a desecration of the angel, for whom alone I value your +services.” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t <i>she</i> like being a Markiness?” asked Hannah, as she left the +room to make some little preparations before the séance. +</p> + +<p> +Her remark set Ricardo thinking how much all women are alike. +</p> + +<p> +“How they love a title!” he pondered inwardly. “Although Leonora was +of noble birth, I can well remember her pleasure, less roughly +expressed than that of this poor untutored girl, but still the same, +when she first assumed my name, and heard herself called Marchesa di +Sorrento. +</p> + +<p> +“And how proud I was of her, with her lovely face and swan-like +figure, all life and grace! She looked a Marchioness, from the crown +of her noble head to her dainty feet. But this poor, uncouth child of +nature! I never thought of the disgrace to my title, when I married +her! Steinberg reminded me of it, but I considered it dead, and myself +only as a drudging teacher! How did she find out about it, I wonder! +It is inconceivable—still more, that she should take such a keen +pleasure in assuming it! Well! it is a misfortune, but I cannot +prevent her! It <i>is</i> her name beyond all dispute, and if she will use +it, she must! +</p> + +<p> +“But how changed she has become during the last few weeks. Sometimes I +regard her with amazement and cannot believe she is the same Hannah I +married! Where is her timidity—her stolidity—her implacable good +humour—her fear of me and Von Steinberg, flown? She has become brisk +and pert, almost dominant in her manner—and at times I catch a look +in her eye, as though her soul had but just waked up and was +astonished at its own power. Yet with it all, I like her better—yes! +there is decidedly something that I like better in Hannah now, than +when I first married her! +</p> + +<p> +“But this folly about assuming her title! How I wish Von Steinberg +would hasten home, that he might reason her out of it!” +</p> + +<p> +Here, his wife’s voice summoned him to the séance chamber, and he was +soon absorbed in watching for the wonders which his sittings with her +revealed to him. +</p> + +<p> +One point had rather worried him lately, and that was the defection of +his beloved Leonora, or rather, the little advance which she made +towards development. Ricardo had imagined on commencing his studies in +Occultism, that the apparitions would grow with the growth of his +knowledge of them, and from being visible but silent, would progress +in language, as in familiarity, until they would converse with him as +easily as if they stood face to face on earth, or in Heaven. +</p> + +<p> +He had a thousand things to ask of Leonora. He yearned to ascertain +where she now lived—how she employed herself—what associates she +had—and how her spirit life was sustained in her; above all, by what +mystical wonder, she managed to leave her Heavenly dwelling-place and +visit him in the little dark chamber, which he called his séance +room, and through the instrumentality of so rough and untutored a +medium as Hannah Stubbs. +</p> + +<p> +But though he addressed such queries to the apparition of Leonora +night after night, he never received any satisfactory reply. A shrug +of the shoulders—a shake or nod of the head—a whispered “Yes!” or +“No!” seemed to be the extent of information he could receive from +her. +</p> + +<p> +Naturally, having been her husband, he longed to touch her again, to +put his lips to hers, or to grasp the little white hand which was +invariably thrust through the curtain to greet him. +</p> + +<p> +But such favours were sparingly accorded him. If he were permitted to +touch her hand, it was only to pat the outside of it—if her face were +advanced to meet his, it merely brushed his cheek, like the fluttering +of a butterfly’s wing. And, as he had complained to Von Steinberg, her +visits had become far less frequent than they had been at first. +Strangers, in whom he felt but sparse interest, had taken her place +and usurped the time and power, which he considered Leonora’s. +</p> + +<p> +But this evening, after an interval of several days, she appeared. Her +dark eyes peeped at him through a veil of gossamer, which fell to her +feet, and her lissom form swayed itself to and fro, as though loath to +leave the sheltering curtain. +</p> + +<p> +Ricardo was in the lowest spirits. He could think of nothing but the +subject that immediately disquieted him. +</p> + +<p> +“My beautiful Marchesa!” he said, as Leonora’s form appeared at the +entrance of the cabinet, “can you guess how distasteful it is to me to +hear the title which you adorned, usurped by another? <i>She</i> a +Marchesa! O! it is impossible!—degrading—poor uncouth, ignorant +creature! she little knows the height to which she aspires. She could +as soon sit as Queen, upon the throne of England! Forgive me, sweetest +Love, that I should have given this ungainly servant the semblance of +your position. But she is not <i>my wife</i>, Leonora! You know it! Her +name is but an empty sound! I have been widowed since the fatal night +that saw your pure spirit wing its flight to Heaven, and I shall +remain widowed till we meet again. But tell me, dearest, what shall I +do? What do you advise me to do? Is Hannah to have her own way in +this, or not?” +</p> + +<p> +The form of Leonora nodded its head. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it part of my punishment for having sent you to your account, +whilst still in the bloom of your youth and beauty, to have brought +this trouble on my head? Must I endure it, as a penance, that shall +bring me, all the sooner, to your dear feet?” +</p> + +<p> +The figure nodded its head a second time. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I <i>will</i> bear it—even to hear her called by the title which I +was so proud to bestow upon you—if it will only reunite us one moment +sooner than I hoped for.” +</p> + +<p> +The Professor, in his anxiety to gain the approval of his former wife +for all he did and said, did not consider that he put the words he +wished to hear her say into her mouth, or, rather, that he accepted +her acquiescence as a sign that she understood the case, and his +reasons for it. If Leonora approved of Hannah being styled Marchesa di +Sorrento, it should be exactly as she wished and vice versa. The next +question was put with some amount of trepidity. +</p> + +<p> +“And do you consider that she ought to have a servant?—that the work +is too hard for her, and unbefitting her position as my wife? Ought I +to allow her to make her powers public, or shall I keep them entirely +for myself, as now?” +</p> + +<p> +Leonora shook her head vehemently. +</p> + +<p> +“It will not militate against our meeting, Leonora, nor interfere in +any way with your appearance? Ah! my beloved, think what I have +sacrificed, in order to obtain this great privilege! It would break my +heart if you were to desert Hannah, because others kept you away.” +</p> + +<p> +The figure bent forward until its lips touched the Professor’s face, +and whispered, +</p> + +<p> +“Better! much better!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it shall be so!” exclaimed Ricardo, though he sighed whilst he +said the words; “I will put no further obstacle in the way of her +wishes. Anything—anything—that shall make your path more easy to +you, and bind us more nearly together. But O! my Leonora! how I long +sometimes for the happy day when Death, like a kindly friend, shall +lead me out of this world of perplexity, into the Land of Light, where +I shall meet you again, in all the radiance of your spiritual youth +and beauty!” +</p> + +<p> +The Spirit patted him gently on the head, but Ricardo did not raise +his face from his hands for the remainder of the séance. When Hannah +came to herself, she found him sitting so, almost as lost to all +external things as she had been. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch12"> +CHAPTER XII. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">A few</span> weeks after the events related in the last chapter, as Mrs. +Battleby was helping her wretched drudge to wash up the miscellaneous +assortment of plates, dishes, cups, saucers and tumblers, sent down by +her various lodgers, and harrying the girl’s soul out, by constant +adjurations to make more haste, she was startled by the sound of a +loud double knock on the front door. +</p> + +<p> +“Now! ’oo on hearth can that be calling at this time o’ night?” she +exclaimed testily, as she wiped her hands on her canvas apron. “ ’Ere, +’Liza, ’and me over that clean apron <i>do</i>, and don’t stand gaping at +me there! I declare, you put me ever so much in mind of that great, +hulking fool, Hannah Stubbs, which I’ve never forgiven ’er mother to +this day for putting her upon me! It might be some one arter the +hattics, for I’ve known ’em to come, when pressed, as late as ten +o’clock at night. Now! go on with your washing-up, and don’t be +a’follerin’ me to hear what they may say, for it’s no concern of yourn +any way.” +</p> + +<p> +Saying which, Mrs. Battleby left the lower regions and ascended to +answer the hall door. +</p> + +<p> +It was a dark night, and all she could distinguish at first was, that +a female figure stood on the door steps. +</p> + +<p> +“Who do you please to want, Ma’am?” she inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“Is Mrs. Battleby at home?” asked the stranger, in her turn. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! Ma’am, I be Mrs. Battleby, but if it’s rooms as you want, I’ve +none to let but the hattics, which was occupied last by a gentleman of +very high degree!” +</p> + +<p> +“Lor! Mrs. Battleby! I don’t believe you know me!” exclaimed the +visitor, as she pushed her way into the passage, and leant up against +the wall, laughing. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, it’s never!—No! it can’t never be—<i>Hannah Stubbs!</i>” cried Mrs. +Battleby, too much astounded to be angry at being taken in. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! it is,” replied Hannah, still laughing, “but I ain’t Hannah +Stubbs no longer, Mrs. Battleby! I’m a married lady now, and able to +hold my own with anybody. But ain’t you a’going to arsk me to take a +chair? Ain’t the parlours vacant? Can’t we go in there?” +</p> + +<p> +“The parlours!” repeated the landlady, with a sneer. “Well! I wonder +what we’re coming to, next! I should ’ave thought as the kitchen was +good enough for you, Hannah Stubbs, though you <i>be</i> married!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! then, let me tell you, Mrs. Battleby as it ain’t! And I’ll +thank you not to call me out of my name. I’m married to a nobleman, +and I’ll stick up for my rights. ‘My lady’ is the proper way for you +to address me, Mrs. Battleby! I’m a Markiness!” +</p> + +<p> +“A <i>what!</i>” exclaimed Mrs. Battleby, as she pushed her visitor into +the back parlour, which lacked an inmate. “Are you mocking me, Hannah, +or ’ave you gone clean off your chump? A markiness! You must be daft! +They belongs to the highest of the haristocracy. What ’ave you been +a’doing of, since you left this ’ouse?” +</p> + +<p> +As she lighted the gas, and was enabled to have a good look at her +late slavey, the landlady perceived there was a great difference in +her appearance. Hannah wore the famous apple-green merino, with a silk +mantle over it—a small black bonnet, crowned with scarlet poppies, +and a pair of brown silk gloves. Altogether, though she did not look +like a marchioness, she had the appearance of a very respectable +servant. +</p> + +<p> +“And now do tell me the rights of all this, for you’ve took my breath +away,” said Mrs. Battleby. “What’s become of the poor Professor, and +his friend the Doctor, and ’ave you left them for good, and where are +you living now?” +</p> + +<p> +She pushed Hannah into a chair and took one opposite herself, so eager +was she to learn how this wonderful transformation scene had come +about. +</p> + +<p> +The Marchesa di Sorrento was wonderfully self-possessed. She drew off +her silk gloves and folded them neatly on her lap—placed her umbrella +in a safe position—and settled herself down for a good talk. +</p> + +<p> +“I have not left the Sig-nor at all, Mrs. Battleby,” she commenced; +“we’ve been married for a long time now, and our ’ouse is at +’Ampstead.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Sig-nor has <i>married</i> you!” exclaimed the landlady, gasping in +her surprise. “Why! I allays thought as ’e was a real gentleman! +Actually <i>married</i> you! Well! wonders never cease!” +</p> + +<p> +“A real gentleman,” cried Hannah, sharply, “I should think he was—a +better gentleman than you’ll ever ’ave in your attics agen, Mrs. +Battleby. He’s more than a gentleman, a good deal! He’s a real +Markiss! What do you think of that! The Markiss dee Sorrento! And I’m +a Markiness! The Markiness dee Sorrento! And that’s why you’ll ’ave to +call me ‘my lady’ if ever you speaks to me agen, Mrs. Battleby.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t believe as I could ever find it on my tongue to do it, +Hannah—not if you was to give me a ’undred pounds,” said the +landlady, as she sank back in her chair with surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you satisfied I speak the truth,” asked Hannah, presently, “or +must I bring the Markiss here to tell you so, himself? He was always a +Markiss, of course, but he didn’t choose to let on to you about it. +But as soon as we was married, he told me the truth! It was a fine +surprise for me, as you may be sure, but I’m quite accustomed to it +now.” +</p> + +<p> +“And he actually married you—that quiet old gentleman! Well! if you’d +told me marriage was in his line, I’d ’ave said you was quite mistook. +And the Doctor—what did ’e say to it, eh, Hannah?—I mean—my lady!” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t go to suppose as we asked the Doctor’s leave, or anybody +else’s?” replied the Markiness, with a fine scorn; “the Markiss was +old enough to know his own mind, I s’pose! And the Doctor ain’t a +doctor any longer either! He’s a Baron—the Baron von Steinberg, and +’as come into a big fortune of thousands and thousands of pounds a +year.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! you don’t go to tell me as the Doctor’s a haristocrat, too?” cried +Mrs. Battleby, who felt as if all her old acquaintances had suddenly +drifted from her into realms above. “ ’E who was such a nice-speaking +young gentleman! A Baron! Well! I never! And money into the bargain! +No wonder as they both left the hattics!” +</p> + +<p> +“The Baron ’as a lovely ’ouse in Portland Place,” continued Hannah, +“the most beautiful ’ouse as you ever see—all statues and pictures +and flowering plants. You can’t ’ear your feet in ’is carpets, and ’e +keeps ten or twelve servants. He’s rolling in riches, is the Baron.” +</p> + +<p> +“My!” gasped Mrs. Battleby, too exhausted by astonishment to be able +to say any more. +</p> + +<p> +“And you, my dear,” she resumed, after a pause, “ ’ow do you git on +with the cooking and that? The Sig-nor, ’e wasn’t very particular, but +if I remembers rightly, you didn’t know nothink of cooking, or of much +else when you fust come to me—did you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! nor now either,” responded Hannah, with her grandest air, “I ’ave +no call to do anything of the sort. My servant does all that for me!” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Your servant!</i> Lor! and you keep a servant!” echoed the landlady. “I +never! But in coorse the Sig-nor, being a Markiss, would now, wouldn’t +’e? And ’ave you told all this to your pore mother and father, who +’ave been sadly about you, ever since you runned away from me!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! Mrs. Battleby, and don’t mean to, neither! You don’t suppose as +the Markiss would let such people as my mother and father come about +the ’ouse! It would bemean his rank! They carst me off and they must +keep to theirselves—as well as that ill-mannered young man Joseph +Brushwood! I wouldn’t stop to speak to ’em, not if I met ’em in the +road.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! Hannah, you ’ave grown ’igh,” replied the other, “but I ’opes +as you’ve given up all them sperrits and devils and things as beset +you ’ere. The Markiss won’t allow them about ’im, I expect!” +</p> + +<p> +“You only says that because you’re so ignorant, Mrs. Battleby,” said +the Markiness, tossing her head; “those who know about the matter says +they’re Science, and all the aristocracy are running after them like +mad! They call them ‘angels’ not ‘devils’, and they <i>do</i> say,” +continued the girl, lowering her voice, and bending towards the +landlady, “that Royalty’s crazy about it, too, and that if I chose to +go to the Palace and show ’em what I can do, that I should be made a +duchess in my own right!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! Hannah—my lady—don’t you go for to do it!” cried Mrs. Battleby, +“for what’s the good of being a duchess, if the Devil ’as got hold of +you! Better remain as you are—a plain markiness! O! I ’ad ’oped as +you’d given it all up and lived quiet and sober, like a married woman +should!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! that would never do!” replied Hannah, “Why! do you know, Mrs. +Battleby, as it’s the best thing I’ve got! The Baron says I’m the +grandest medium in the land, and there ain’t another as can make the +sperrits walk out so soon, and so nateral like! His friends is all mad +to meet me, and I’m to go to ’is ’ouse next week, and sit for the +Russian Ambassador, and the Duke of Standingstone, and two foreign +Princes! Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been so quick to take the Markiss, +for I should ’ave ’ad no end of chances, if I ’adn’t been a married +lady!” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! well! I ’opes it will all end satisfactory,” sighed Mrs. +Battleby, “but it don’t seem right to me! Sperrits is sperrits all the +world over, which we’re told not to meddle with in holy Scriptur, and +I should never be surprised to ’ear as they’d taken you away with +’orns and a tail and a smell of brimstone!” +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t afeared of that!” said Hannah, “the sperrits are more afraid +of me than I am of them!” +</p> + +<p> +“Of <i>you</i>—who used to shriek if you saw ’em!” replied her companion, +incredulously. +</p> + +<p> +“I know! but they says as use is second natur. Anyways, I don’t mind +’em one pin now! The Doctor says they ’ave seen the most wonderfullest +things through me—his dead patients and others—and that if anythink +’appened to the Markiss, my mediumship would be worth its weight in +gold. So I’m not going to throw it away—you bet!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! well! and I’m not the one to blame yer. We must all look arter +ourselves in this world. But ’ow improved you are in your speaking, my +dear! ’Ave you been to school since the Sig-nor married you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Am I improved?” demanded Hannah, with a look of surprise; “I don’t +see any difference myself! P’r’aps it’s talking so much with my +’usband—not that the Markiss is a great talker, but still I don’t +hear anyone else.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are altered in many ways,” continued the landlady, thoughtfully, +“you’ve lost the scared look you used to ’ave on your face, and the +dull look too, I may say, for we never considered you over-bright, you +know, Hannah! But now—I ain’t good at describing—but you seem to me +to have wakened up, as if you’d seen a lot of the world and its ways. +And it’s improved you, Hannah—wonderful!” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad of that,” replied the markiness, “for now that I am a lady, +I has to speak like one. Well! I’ll say good-night to you now, Mrs. +Battleby, for I must be going ’ome! But I thought, as you’d known the +Markiss for so long, you’d like to hear the news, and that we’re all +so ’appy together!” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah had risen to go, but Mrs. Battleby detained her for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“You ’aven’t told me nothing of the Sig-nor’s ’ealth,” she said; “ ’as +’e got rid of them dreadful fainty attacks as used to take ’im +sometimes, when ’e lived with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! not quite! He had one yesterday. The Baron says it’s ’is ’eart, +and that ’e’s ’ad it a long time. But all we ’ave to do is to be +careful, and ’e’ll last as long as any.” +</p> + +<p> +“And may I come up and see you some day, Hannah—my lady?” inquired +the landlady. “I should like to ’ave a look at the Sig-nor, I must +say.” +</p> + +<p> +The Markiness dee Sorrento hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +“I s’pose I must say ‘yes’, Mrs. Battleby, because of old times, but +you must please not to call me ‘Hannah’ before my servant, or she may +think it disrespectful. I ’ope you understand the motive!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! yes, my lady—certainly, my lady!” replied Mrs. Battleby, as she +curtsied the newly-made peeress out at the hall door, and retreated to +the kitchen again, to try and solve the marvellous riddle which had +been presented to her. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the marchioness took an omnibus back to Hampstead, where she +found Karl von Steinberg, who had been home about a week, in close +conversation with her husband. +</p> + +<p> +“I am trying to combat Ricardo’s objection to your giving my friends a +séance next week, Hannah!” he said, as she appeared, “but he is very +obstinate! He seems to imagine that if your powers are made public, +they will deteriorate in some way. I—on the contrary—think they will +improve with practice, always provided that we see you are not +overtaxed. And <i>I</i> shall be present to prevent that! I have not given +up being a doctor, at all events for the benefit of my friends, though +I have become a Baron!” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course not!” replied Hannah, “and I’ve told the Markiss so a +hundred times! Haven’t the sperrits said the same thing? They’re more +likely to desert me, if I disobey their orders. Don’t waste no more +time over the Markiss, Baron! I’m going to give your friends that +séance next week, and as many more as you choose—so there’s an end +of the matter!” +</p> + +<p> +“But we must follow your husband’s wishes in this respect, Hannah,” +said Von Steinberg. “I should not enjoy the séance, for one, if he +disapproved of your giving it! He will never shut me out from your +home sittings, I am sure, and if he is determined, my friends must go +without it, or get another medium to sit for them!” +</p> + +<p> +“And where will they find another like me?” replied Hannah, with that +strange look in her eyes—half sensual and half cunning—which he had +noticed before his departure for Germany. “You know yourself there is +not such another in the country! No! I shall sit at your house next +week, whatever any one says. Besides, if I do not, Leonora will not +come again, and how will you like that, Markiss?” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she tell you so?” cried Ricardo, in alarm. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, she did! She says my gift was given me for the good of +humanity and not merely to gratify your selfish wish to see her +again.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! I will not—I will not—be selfish then,” exclaimed the poor +Professor. “Von Steinberg, she is right! This wonderful gift was never +intended to be hidden under a bushel! I give my consent to her using +it for the benefit of mankind. But—if you will forgive me—I will +remain at home! I could not bear to see my Leonora disporting her +lovely form for strangers to gaze at. No! let Hannah wait upon your +friends, and I will stay here until my Angel deigns to come to me +again.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why should Leonora appear at all in my house, Ricardo?” +remonstrated his friend, “if you do not care to attend the séance, +you can at least bring your wife to my house and take her home.” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! I would rather that she went alone!” persisted the Professor. +</p> + +<p> +“O! let him be!” cried Hannah, impatiently, “if the markiss has got a +crotchet in his head, it’ll take more than you and me to dig it out +again. It’ll be his own loss—not ours!” +</p> + +<p> +At this Ricardo rose, and, without another word, walked up stairs to +his own room. +</p> + +<p> +“You are wrong, Hannah,” remarked Von Steinberg, “you have no right to +speak before your husband like that! You should be doubly forbearing +towards him just now, for I don’t think he is well.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter with him?” asked the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“His heart is weaker than usual, and he has other disorders which +complicate it. I think your determination to assume his title has +worried him more than you imagine. It rouses unpleasant memories in +him, and keeps the Past always before his eyes. Besides, it is not +yours to use! It was confiscated years ago by the Italian Government, +and does not belong to Ricardo himself any longer!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! that’s rubbish!” cried Hannah, “it wasn’t lawful of them to take +it away, and so it’s his still! Besides, what ’arm does it do to +anybody, my calling myself a markiness? It’s little enough I got by +marrying ’im, I’m sure! He needn’t grudge me that!” +</p> + +<p> +“You got an honest, brave, honourable gentleman, Hannah, which is a +thing to be proud of!” +</p> + +<p> +“But it won’t do me ’alf the good that being called ‘my lady’ will, +all the same,” replied Hannah, with one of her cunning looks. “I mean +to make my way in the world, Baron, for he won’t leave me much butter +for my bread, and it’s the only crutch I’ve got to walk with! It’ll go +down better than money with ’alf the fools I meet.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think you’re a very clever woman,” said Von Steinberg, regarding +her with admiration. “I had no idea when I first saw you, that you had +such a quick wit and brain. And you are improving fast in your manner +of talking! If it were not for dropping an <i>h</i> now and then, when you +get excited, you might really hold your own with many a lady in the +land!” +</p> + +<p> +“I mean to, too, you bet!” said Hannah. “I ain’t—I mean, I +haven’t—married an old man for nothing! I’ve got something to set +against his age, eh, Doctor? And if you’ll stand my friend, and +introduce me to some of the big people at your séances, you see if my +‘wonderful gift’ (as you call it) won’t land me some day in unexpected +places.” +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove! I believe you’re sharp enough for anything,” exclaimed Von +Steinberg, “and if I can help you, I will! But it must be with +Ricardo’s consent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t you hear him give it? He’d sell me to the Devil, if it would +bring his Leonora to him! He doesn’t care a hang about me! He only +cares for her!” +</p> + +<p> +“You mustn’t say that!” replied Von Steinberg, though he believed it +to be true. +</p> + +<p> +“And I’ll tell you a secret, Doctor! I don’t believe that Leonora will +come to him much longer, either! She’s pretty well sick of being +prayed and slobbered over, and called an angel! She wasn’t an +angel—not by no manner of means—and it wearies her! She liked life, +did Leonora—domestic happiness wasn’t in her line at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe you are correct there,” replied the Doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“And can’t you see how sitting by himself, night after night, is +drawing all the strength out of the Markiss. It doesn’t signify about +<i>my</i> strength—he has never thought about that—so long as he can see +Leonora—but it’ll chaw him up before long, if he don’t look out. +It’ll be for his good to take me away a bit—mark my words!” +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove! you’re right again,” replied her companion, “and it is +wonderful I did not perceive the danger to him before! You’ve done +Ricardo a great benefit by your astuteness, my dear, and I shall not +fail to tell him so! But you are sure you have not hurt yourself! You +do not feel at all weak, or ill—not as if a tonic, or stimulant of +any kind, would do you good?” +</p> + +<p> +“O! no! Doctor, I’m all right, thank you,” said Hannah, smiling at the +anxiety depicted in his face; “only you get me to your fine house and +it’ll do me all the good in the world!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am delighted to think that you are coming,” said Von Steinberg, +“and, Hannah, at this or any time, remember that anything I may have, +or can procure, is at your service! I can never sufficiently thank you +for the grand insight you have given me, through your mediumship, to +the truth of Immortality, and anything I could do for you in return I +should esteem a great favour! +</p> + +<p> +“And now one word of advice, my dear girl, which I know you are too +sensible to resent. Try to correct the few errors of grammar which you +still retain, and the sooner will you gain admittance into the houses +you aspire to be invited to, on an equal footing with their owners.” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah stood, for a moment, as if dumbfoundered. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t get on as fast as I should, do I?” she said at length. “It +seems queer, but there’s something in my tongue as won’t sound some +words. I s’pose it’s all habit, and I haven’t much opportunity for +improving myself now!” +</p> + +<p> +“How’s that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, the markiss has gone dumb! ’E never opens ’is mouth ’ardly from +morning till night! ’Ow is a girl to learn anything from him? I can +read a little, you know, Doctor, but not enough to improve myself, and +I carn’t go back to school, now I’m a markiness!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! you’re too old for that! Well! we must see what we can do +together, Hannah, you and I! Your husband is out almost all day, so I +could come over here sometimes, and give you a lesson in conversation, +that is, if you really wish to learn.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to learn Italian with you,” said Hannah, softly. +</p> + +<p> +Von Steinberg stared. +</p> + +<p> +“Italian, my dear! What are you talking of? I think we had better get +on with a little English first! When shall it be? Shall I come up +to-morrow morning and begin our studies?” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah approached him, and laid her hand gently on his arm. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall like to learn with you!” she said, softly, in the same voice +she had used a moment before. “You are good. I feel it! I shall love +you for your kindness to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Karl von Steinberg started away from her, as if he had been stung. +</p> + +<p> +What was the expression in her face, which had so improved its +expression? Rough Hannah Stubbs seemed to have gone away, and a +gentle-featured, alluring woman to have stepped into her place. Her +eyes, always beautiful, glowed with gratitude and sensibility—her +touch was tender—her smile had become plaintive and appealing. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor shook off her grasp rather rudely than otherwise, and, +rising, declared it was time he returned home, and left the cottage +without another word. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch13"> +CHAPTER XIII. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Karl von Steinberg</span> was naturally a great lover of Art and Beauty, +but hard work and want of means, had prevented him hitherto from +indulging his taste for either. Now, however, that he had money at his +command, he took the keenest pleasure in surrounding himself with +everything that struck his fancy, or pleased his eye. +</p> + +<p> +His house in Portland Place was furnished with æsthetic taste and +delicacy. The wide hall and staircase were laid with the softest +carpets, and decorated with towering palms and hothouse flowers. The +salons were hung with rich tapestries, and ornamented with <i>objets +d’art</i>, whilst the pictures, transported from the Berlin gallery, +formed an uncommon attraction in a private house. +</p> + +<p> +The Baron did not indulge in these expensive luxuries for his own +gratification only. He had a liberal and expansive heart, and loved to +gather round him as many of his countrymen as he knew in London, as +well as all those who had been kind to him in his poorer days. +</p> + +<p> +His sudden accession to Fortune soon drew a crowd of acquaintances to +share in his good things, whilst his rank attracted men of good birth +and position amongst them. +</p> + +<p> +Over his dinner-table, he had discoursed to scientists and others, of +the marvellous powers of Ricardo’s wife, and many had eagerly desired +to witness them. This was the reason that he had obtained his old +friend’s permission to ask Hannah to his house, to meet some people +who were interested in the matter with himself. +</p> + +<p> +On the evening in question, he entertained at dinner the Persian +Ambassador, one of the Gentlemen at Arms from the Royal Household, a +celebrated brain doctor, who had long made abnormal cases his study, +and three or four medical men with their wives, who had all promised +to submit to such conditions as he should impose upon them. +</p> + +<p> +In an ante-chamber to the drawing-room, he had had a cabinet prepared +for Hannah’s use. A dark velvet curtain drawn across one corner of the +apartment, and covered in at the top, proved all that could be desired +for the occasion, whilst a moderator lamp, shaded by red silk, cast a +subdued light upon the proceedings. +</p> + +<p> +He had not invited Hannah to be present at the dinner; firstly, +because he did not like to ask her to leave her husband for too long a +time, and secondly, because he thought the presence of his company +might intimidate her and make her feel uncomfortable, and perhaps have +a bad effect upon the subsequent sitting. He had prepared his guests +for her advent, speaking of her as a very quiet body, unaccustomed to +society—the wife of an old friend of his, who did not care about her +sitting for anybody but himself, but had kindly given permission for +her to come there that evening. +</p> + +<p> +He did not exactly ask their indulgence for the roughness of the +medium, but he led them to expect a person much their inferior in +position—one to whom they might be kind and condescending, but with +whom they need not think to associate. She was “the medium”—nothing +more. +</p> + +<p> +The men were prepared to stare at her with curiosity, and the women to +patronise her, as they might a housemaid who had been endowed with a +miraculous voice, or anything else which they did not possess +themselves. +</p> + +<p> +No one seemed disposed to sit long at dinner that evening, and they +had all assembled in the drawing-room, before Hannah was announced. At +last there sounded a cabman’s knock and ring at the hall door. +</p> + +<p> +“There is my medium!” exclaimed Von Steinberg, with alacrity, as he +rose and advanced to meet her. The guests all looked up curiously, +expecting to see a dowdy, scared-looking person enter the room, with +an air of fright at finding herself in the presence of so august a +company. +</p> + +<p> +What was their surprise, as their host reached the door, to see it +thrown open by the footman, and admit a woman, stout, fleshy, and +dressed in rather an incongruous manner for the occasion, but to all +intents and purposes as self-possessed as any one amongst them. +</p> + +<p> +Karl von Steinberg was so astonished, that it was with difficulty he +could restrain himself from giving open vent to his surprise. +</p> + +<p> +On the threshold stood Hannah—arrayed as he had never seen her +before—as he had not believed it possible she would ever think of +arraying herself! Her abundant hair, which she had gone to a coiffeur +to have dressed, was piled upon the top of her head, thus adding +height to her stature—her coarse complexion had received a touch of +powder, which softened its natural bloom. On her back she wore a white +dress, hanging in straight folds from her shoulders to her feet, and +thus leaving her waist and general contour undefined, whilst above it +rose her well-covered, pinky neck and arms—looking very youthful and +healthy, if somewhat countrified. +</p> + +<p> +Had Hannah added jewellry to this new attire, she would have spoilt it +and herself. But luckily for her appearance, she had none to wear—the +white, straight, unadorned dress and her abundant hair were positively +her only ornaments, and strange to say, notwithstanding her birth and +antecedents, she looked exceedingly well in them. +</p> + +<p> +Her manners, also, seemed improved to match her dress. Instead of +grinning from ear to ear, as was her wont when pleased, she stood like +a young Juno on the threshold, as if she knew she was there to confer +a favour, not to receive one. She almost took Von Steinberg’s breath +away, but he managed to collect himself and murmur, +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Hannah!——” +</p> + +<p> +“The Marchesa di Sorrento, if you please!” she replied, and taking her +cue, he turned, and presenting her to his guests, repeated, +</p> + +<p> +“Allow me to introduce to you, the Marchesa di Sorrento, who has been +charming enough to come here for our amusement this evening. +Marchesa!” he added, turning to Hannah, “can I offer you nothing in +the shape of refreshment, before you undertake your arduous duties on +our behalf?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing—nothing!” replied Hannah, as she sank into the seat he +offered her. +</p> + +<p> +“And how is the Marchese?” demanded Von Steinberg, willing to humour +her, whilst his eyes were roving all the while over her pink neck and +rounded arms. “Is he feeling pretty well? I was so sorry he would not +join us to-night!” +</p> + +<p> +“It is better so! He is not very well,” replied the Marchesa, in a +low, modulated voice. +</p> + +<p> +The doctors’ wives, who had come to the gathering in high dresses, and +lace caps, were beginning to wonder by this time, if they had done +wrong and whether the Marchesa would consider they had committed a +breach of etiquette. +</p> + +<p> +They sidled up to the Baron and whispered him to present them more +particularly to his friend, and then they tried to “pump” Hannah as to +her spiritualistic powers and how she developed them, but the Marchesa +was unusually silent. Von Steinberg, who had rather dreaded her +becoming communicative, could not sufficiently admire her reticence; +she was a deucedly sight cleverer than he had ever given her credit +for, he said to himself—and in order that the favourable impression +she had evidently made, might be kept up, he was not long in leading +the way to the séance room. +</p> + +<p> +Here, the guests having been arranged on seats at one end of the +apartment, and cautioned not to stir on penalty of being sent away, +Hannah was escorted to the cabinet by Karl, who could not help +whispering as he affected to be arranging her comfortably in her +chair, +</p> + +<p> +“You are marvellous—you have astonished me—I never knew what a +handsome woman you were, before!” +</p> + +<p> +To which compliments she answered by half closing her eyes, as she +ejaculated, +</p> + +<p> +“You may be very clever, my friend, but you do not know everything +that there is in this world yet,” and immediately shutting her lids, +she fell into a profound sleep. +</p> + +<p> +“How unlike Hannah!” thought the Baron, as he mingled once more with +his company—“not even like her voice. The accent too—I could have +sworn that it was foreign—it is too marvellous—it is past finding +out!” +</p> + +<p> +His friends were full of curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +“What a fine woman!” +</p> + +<p> +“We never expected anything of this sort!” +</p> + +<p> +“Has she gone to sleep already?” +</p> + +<p> +“How soon will they appear?” +</p> + +<p> +“What a remarkable power to possess!” +</p> + +<p> +These were among the remarks that poured in upon Von Steinberg, almost +in a breath, from his various friends. +</p> + +<p> +“Ladies! Ladies! I can tell you nothing more than I hope you will see +for yourselves before long! Have patience, and I think you will be +rewarded! Yes! the Marchesa is a very fine young woman, Derrick, as +you say. Her age?—between eighteen and nineteen! Where was she +educated? I really cannot say. Somewhere in the country, I believe! +She is quite new to London, and has been kept in such close attendance +on her husband, since her marriage, that she has had no time, nor +opportunity, to go into Society. +</p> + +<p> +“But stay—hush!—I think I saw the curtain move. Yes! I am right! +There is her principal control, who calls herself, ‘Leonora!’ Mrs. +Atkinson, cannot you see the form from where you sit? Draw your chair +nearer mine! That is better! You can see the whole figure now!” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” argued the lady, with her glass raised to her eye, “isn’t that +the Marchesa? Surely, she is very like! Should you have known them +apart, Mrs. Derrick?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why! where are your eyes?” demanded her husband; “the Marchesa struck +me as a stoutly built young lady, with light brown hair! This figure +is extremely slim—I should say, thin—and her hair is jet black! I +cannot discern any resemblance between the two!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! she is certainly thinner,” acquiesced the lady, “and the hair is +darker—I admit that—yet the expression, and something about the +features, strikes me as resembling the medium. I wonder what sort of +feet she has!” +</p> + +<p> +At this hint, Leonora thrust her little bare foot beyond the curtain, +for the satisfaction of the sitters. It was a lovely foot—white as +marble, slim and smooth, and excited the universal admiration of all +the gentlemen present. +</p> + +<p> +“There can be no mistake about <i>that</i>, I think!” exclaimed the Baron +eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“But we did not see the Marchesa’s feet!” grumbled the incredulous +lady. +</p> + +<p> +“But surely you could judge by her build, that her feet would not be +as small as those!” argued Von Steinberg, who began to wish, as so +many have done before him, that he had never invited his friends to a +séance. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear! you are making a fool of yourself!” whispered Mr. Atkinson +to his wife, “and if you can’t say anything more sensible, I’ll be +obliged by your holding your tongue altogether!” +</p> + +<p> +After this, the lady’s remarks were made in the strictest confidence +in her neighbour’s ear, and Leonora showed her feet and her hands, and +smiled her saucy smiles for the edification of the male portion of the +assembly, who were all ready to swear to her beauty and distinct +personality from that of the medium. Several other forms made their +appearance—one being that of an old man, between whom and the +Marchesa, even Mrs. Atkinson could not trace any resemblance, and the +séance closed with the apparition of a little child—a boy of four +years old, who ran across the room towards Dr. Derrick, and was fully +recognised by his wife and himself, as their little Lawrence, a child +whom they had lost some twenty years before. +</p> + +<p> +After this apparition, which fully proved the claims of the Marchesa +di Sorrento to be one of the most marvellous mediums in the world, the +meeting broke up and the sitters dispersed into the adjoining room, +Karl von Steinberg alone remaining behind for a few minutes, to see +the medium recover from her trance. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as he found himself alone with her, he gently raised one end +of the curtain. There lay Hannah in her easy chair—one pinky arm +thrown across the velvet elbow, the other beneath her head. She was +breathing heavily still and her mouth was slightly open, showing the +large, firm, white teeth within. +</p> + +<p> +It had never struck Von Steinberg that she was even good-looking +before, but now she looked positively handsome—an embodiment of +youth, health, and vigour—more admirable in a doctor’s eyes, than all +the anæmic, bloodless, white flesh in the world. +</p> + +<p> +He regarded her quietly for a moment—then yielding to an +unaccountable impulse, he stooped and kissed her rounded arm. Hannah +woke and caught him—she did not speak, but lay there, with her eyes +open, gazing at him—with a languid smile upon her lips. +</p> + +<p> +“Come! come! you are yourself again now!” cried Von Steinberg, +quickly, “let us go into the next room! We have had a wonderful +séance, and my friends are waiting to congratulate and thank you!” +</p> + +<p> +He dragged her to her feet as he spoke, and led her into the +drawing-room. +</p> + +<p> +Here, the scientific men present crowded round her, eager to ascertain +if her condition were normal, or if they could trace any lingering +remains of the super-human faculty she possessed. +</p> + +<p> +The women looked at her furtively and from a little distance. They +could not understand what they had seen—they could not believe it +possible, and were more ready to ascribe uncommon cleverness and +cunning to the Marchesa, than uncommon powers. +</p> + +<p> +They gazed at her, and whispered to each other, and were generally +disposed to consider that the gentlemen were making too much fuss over +the matter, and that there was an excellent solution of it, if it +could only be found. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile their husbands were pressing Hannah to fix an evening to +give a sitting at their own homes, and promising her all kinds of +preparations in honour of her compliance with their entreaties. +</p> + +<p> +The Baron stood by listening, and a strange feeling of jealousy came +over him, that his guests should attempt to monopolise the powers +which he had had so much difficulty in securing for himself. +</p> + +<p> +He was determined that Hannah should go to none of their houses. +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me, gentlemen!” he said, laying his hand on her arm; “but you +must allow me to have a voice in this matter! I hold the Marchesa in +trust for her husband. It was after much persuasion that he permitted +her to attend here this evening for the purpose of pleasing my guests, +but I am sure he would never hear of her visiting strangers on the +same terms. You must forgive me for saying that she can accept no +invitations without the Marchese’s leave!” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah did not resent his interference, nor withdraw her arm from his +grasp—but only murmured, “That is so!” +</p> + +<p> +“I had hoped,” said Dr. Derrick, with some degree of offence, “that +the Marchesa would have regarded us as friends, after the delightful +evening we have spent in her company.” +</p> + +<p> +“But not to the extent of giving you sittings for the investigation of +your family,” replied Von Steinberg; “the Marchesa is not strong, +although she appears so, and as her medical adviser, I am obliged to +limit the amount of her séances. Good-night, Doctor! some other time +perhaps I may be able to ask you to repeat the experiments of +to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +The visitors departed, and the butler had announced that the +Marchesa’s cab was at the door, when Von Steinberg told him to let it +wait. +</p> + +<p> +“You must come in here, Hannah, and have a glass of wine or some +refreshment after your labours,” he said, leading the way into his +dining-room. “I hope you were not vexed at my interference just now, +but these people would drain you dry, if you allowed them—not caring +one whit, if you sank from fatigue and exhaustion, so long as they +gratified their own curiosity concerning you. We must take better care +of you than that.” +</p> + +<p> +He poured out a glass of wine, and whilst she was drinking it, he put +his finger gently on the folds of her white dress and asked, +</p> + +<p> +“What made you put on this pretty frock to-night, Hannah? I did not +know that you possessed such a one! I hardly recognised you at +first—you looked so nice! What a difference dress makes. Forgive me +for saying, that I really did not know before this evening, that you +were a handsome woman!” +</p> + +<p> +“Am I?” said Hannah, with the old, broad grin. “No one ever told me so +afore! I thought as I was coming amongst grand folks, I ought to ’ave +a nice frock, so I went to Madame Cusada and she made me this. I did +feel so queer coming out to see you, as if I’d got next to nothing +on.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind! It’s quite the fashion, you know, and you will soon get +accustomed to it! You have a lovely neck and shoulders, Hannah! Who +would think to see your hands, that they were so pink and soft! You +must try and get your hands to look like them. They will soon, now +that you do no rough work. I should like you to look nice always.” +</p> + +<p> +“Should you?” said Hannah. “I don’t think the Markiss cares ’ow I +look! I ’ad to take the money out of ’is trouser pocket to buy this. I +arsked ’im for some, but ’e’s so close, ’e wouldn’t give me any, so I +just helped myself!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! Hannah! you mustn’t do that again. It’s stealing! And how vexed +Ricardo would be, if he discovered the theft! Promise me, that you +will never take his money again, without his leave.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! that’s all very well, but ’ow am I to get things else?” grumbled +Hannah. “What’s the good of being a Markiness, if I’m to go about in +the same old clothes day after day?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! come to me when you want money! Treat me like a brother, and +tell me all your troubles! I have more than I want—a great deal +more—and will gladly supply anything that your husband is unable to +afford you. For, you must remember, Hannah, he is very poor.” +</p> + +<p> +“Beastly poor!” echoed Hannah. “What a different life <i>your</i> wife will +lead! She’ll ’ave everything as ’er ’eart can wish for! Well! some +people is borned lucky!” +</p> + +<p> +“But are not much the happier, all the same,” replied Von Steinberg, +“if ever I should have a wife, as you suggest, she may envy you your +robust health, and your youth, and your mystical powers, Hannah.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lor! they ain’t much good to me,” said the girl, “but if you likes +’em, you’re welcome to ’em, that’s all!” +</p> + +<p> +The Baron took out his purse. +</p> + +<p> +“That is very good of you to say, and if you will not feel offended, I +should like to make you a little present in return for your kindness +to me. You needn’t tell Ricardo, you know! Let it be a secret between +you and me, and when you buy a pretty new frock or a hat with it, +think it is a present from your old friend Karl von Steinberg.” +</p> + +<p> +He laid a note for twenty pounds upon her lap as he spoke, and as +Hannah’s eyes fell upon it, the expression of her face changed. She +took the note in her hands—smoothed it out lovingly—and turned eyes +up to his, that were full of something more than gratitude—something, +that made the young man stoop down and kiss her; then draw back, as if +he had been shot. +</p> + +<p> +“That was wrong of me, Hannah,” he said, “I should not have done it! +Will you forgive me? Ricardo would be awfully angry if he heard of it! +He would say I was a traitor!” +</p> + +<p> +“He won’t hear of it,” replied Hannah quietly, as she gazed at the +bank note. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! put that away safely, and my man shall summon the cab for you, +and to-morrow I am to come and give you a lesson in reading and +conversation, is that not so? I very much want to cure you of some of +your funny little ways, Hannah, and it is so strange to me, that +sometimes you appear to have quite cured them for yourself, and then +you break out again, as bad as ever. Here is the cab! and here is your +wrap. Well! Good-bye till to-morrow, and mind you remember me to +Ricardo.” +</p> + +<p> +He watched her drive away in the direction of her home, and walked +back into his own, dissatisfied with himself, and all the world. +</p> + +<p> +What on earth, he thought, had made him give way to that impulse to +kiss his friend’s wife twice in one evening? He did not admire her! +How could he admire a coarse, under-bred woman, with huge hands and +feet, and an accent that set his teeth on edge? +</p> + +<p> +And yet there had been something about her that evening, that had +attracted him more powerfully than he had considered her capable of +attracting anybody—than he had considered himself capable of being +attracted. It was not entirely her appearance, though she had looked +better than he had ever seen her look before—it was a kind of +animalism and magnetism, combined, which had made his senses reel, and +caused him to forget her position and his faith to his old friend, +Ricardo. +</p> + +<p> +Karl von Steinberg hated himself for what had occurred, and yet he +felt that, should the time come over again, he should behave in +exactly the same manner. She was a wonderful combination, he thought, +of sorcery and coquetry, and gross, inanimate earth! He knew that the +Professor did not love Hannah as a man should love his wife—he had +told him so direct, yet should he find out that she was tampered with +by his friend, he might be provoked into jealousy and view the matter +in a very disagreeable light. So that—Von Steinberg decided—for the +future, Hannah should be sacred to him! +</p> + +<p> +At the same time, he could not endure the idea that she should do for +his acquaintances what she had done for him—go to their houses and +make herself as common as a professional medium! He was resolved that, +at all costs, he would put a stop to that, even if he were compelled +to side with Ricardo, and resolve she should never sit, except at +home. +</p> + +<p> +He tried to disgust himself with her, but he could not! He recalled +all the deficiencies of her womanhood—told himself that she was +coarse, ignorant, and cunning—that she was a woman to be ashamed, not +proud, of—and yet he felt drawn back and back to thoughts of her, as +though she had been the Goddess of Love herself! +</p> + +<p> +He had said at first, that he would not visit the cottage on the +following day, but with the morning’s light, his resolution had faded, +and as soon as he had bathed and breakfasted, he called a cab and +drove out to Hampstead. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch14"> +CHAPTER XIV. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">As</span> he alighted, he perceived Ricardo at a little distance, coming +towards him. The man’s aspect was most lugubrious. His head was sunk +upon his breast. His eyes were cast upon the ground—his hands hung +listlessly by his side. He came close to Von Steinberg without seeing +him, and when he did see him, he started, as if he were the last +person he had dreamt of encountering. +</p> + +<p> +“Good Heavens! Von Steinberg!” he exclaimed; “where have you sprung +from? Hannah told me but just now that you were leaving Town for the +day.” +</p> + +<p> +Karl von Steinberg stopped one moment to consider why Hannah should +have taken the trouble to tell a falsehood, but recovering himself +replied, +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I was thinking of doing so, but changed my mind! She has +forgotten that I also said, that if circumstances permitted of my +remaining in London, I should run over to give her a little lesson in +polite conversation. Your wife is eminently teachable, Ricardo! It is +a real pleasure to me to help her a little on her way.” +</p> + +<p> +“For my part, I think you had better let her alone,” returned the +Professor, gruffly, “I don’t see that polite education improves her.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Ricardo, what is the matter? Have I offended you in any way? +Pray tell me at once, if it is so!” +</p> + +<p> +“Since you demand it, I will. I must beg that you will not ask Hannah +to your house again, for whatever purpose. It does her no good, but +only inflates her foolish head with an idea of importance, which she +does not possess, and introduces her to society in which she can never +hope to mix. +</p> + +<p> +“Besides, Von Steinberg, my means will not admit of buying her +dresses, and paying for her cabs—and when I mention the subject, +however gently, she insults me to my face. No! no! it was with much +reluctance that I gave my permission for her to attend your party last +night, but it must be for the last time—the very last time!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry to hear you say that,” replied Von Steinberg, gravely, +“and still more that Hannah should appear ungrateful for your +indulgence.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it is ridiculous—absurd—” exclaimed Ricardo, passionately, +“that she should pass the evening with such people as you gather round +you. Remember what she was—a common scullery maid! She can only bring +disgrace on you and me and herself!” +</p> + +<p> +“But you are really mistaken,” said the Baron. “I acknowledge that +Hannah is uneducated, but she has much shrewdness, and knows when to +hold her tongue. She behaved admirably last evening, and my friends +were delighted with her—so much so, that had I not interfered, she +would have been overwhelmed with invitations to their houses.” +</p> + +<p> +“Only to save themselves money,” sneered Ricardo, “to procure her +services for nothing! She is a curiosity—a new toy—nothing more!” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think you quite do justice to Hannah,” observed Von +Steinberg, “she is more than a mere machine! She is naturally clever, +and can be very amusing and original. And she really looked superb! I +was quite astonished at her appearance!” +</p> + +<p> +“She doesn’t go out again. She has done it for the last time!” +persisted the Professor, doggedly. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear friend, there is something more the matter than you have told +me,” said the Baron, looking anxiously into Ricardo’s face; “you are +not yourself this morning! Is there anything else, beside your wife’s +very natural desire to see a little of the great world, that troubles +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“A great deal more,” exclaimed the Professor, “my life with her is +becoming a hell upon earth! I can stand it no longer! You know why I +married her, Karl! A coarse, uneducated, ignorant clod (as you +yourself called her)—I gave her my name and the sanctity of my home, +because she brought my Leonora to me. The great object of my life +seemed about to be realised—my yearnings set at rest! I made this +clod my wife—no! no! not my wife; I will never give her that sacred +title—but I made her mine by law, so that I might keep Leonora ever +by my side. And now—can you believe it?—she refuses any more to sit +for Leonora!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! you must be mistaken,” cried Von Steinberg, “Hannah may be tired +of sitting for a while—you forget the strain it is upon her +constitution—but she can never have intended you to understand that +she would never sit for you again.” +</p> + +<p> +“She said it, and she meant it. I could read it in her evil eyes,” +replied Ricardo, steadfastly. “She told me only this morning, when I +asked if we could have a séance together this evening, that she had +made up her mind to sit with me no more. She said worse than that,” +continued the Professor, in a breaking voice, “she declared that +Leonora—my Leonora—was sick and tired of me—that she said she had +come often enough—and expressed her determination not to appear +again, unless it were for the amusement of a crowd, such as you +gathered round you last night—a crowd who cares nothing for her +personally,—only to see the wonder of her materialisation. And +I—<i>I</i>—loved her so!” he gasped out, as he hid his face from +observation, and gave vent to a weak flood of tears. +</p> + +<p> +Karl von Steinberg was much shocked. He was really attached to the +Professor, and his conscience pricked him sorely, lest he should, by +indirect means, have had some share in bringing this trouble on his +head. He turned with him down a narrow lane, where they would be more +sheltered from observation, and waited silently until Ricardo’s +emotion had subsided. +</p> + +<p> +“How weak—how unmanly—you must think me!” he said at last, as he +lifted his worn face and smiled faintly at the Baron, “but I have been +much shaken lately! Hannah’s insolence to me—her over-bearing +manner—the way in which she uses Leonora’s sacred name in my +presence—has sapped my courage! +</p> + +<p> +“O! what an egregious fool I was, not to listen to your kindly advice, +when you warned me that to marry her would ruin me, soul and body! It +has been just that! Were it not for cowardice, I would put an end to +my life to-morrow! There is nothing left me worth living for!” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear friend! I cannot hear you talk like that! I must prescribe a +tonic to strengthen your nerves! You are run down, that is all. I am +afraid that you work too much and worry too much. Do you know, +Ricardo, that these constant séances are very debilitating for you, +and though she might have conveyed the intelligence in milder +language, Hannah is quite right in saying, that you must not indulge +your fancy so frequently. +</p> + +<p> +“I was speaking to her of the danger of it, the other day, and I +daresay she was only repeating my sentiments on the subject to you. If +she failed to express them rightly, you must remember that she has not +been reared in a polite school, and make allowances for her!” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not that!” replied the Professor, shaking his head; “Hannah is +not the same woman she used to be—she is altered in every way! Do you +remember the first time we saw her at Mrs. Battleby’s?—how shy and +awkward she was—how terrified at the effect of her own power—what an +unmeaning, but amiable smile, irradiated her dull vacuous countenance? +</p> + +<p> +“Where has all that gone? She is still somewhat clumsy and coarse, but +her temper is hasty and uncertain—she has developed the cunning of +the Devil—and she will have her own way in everything! It is of no +use my trying to guide, or advise her. She considers she is quite +capable of doing all that for herself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! you could hardly expect her to remain for ever, the dull clod +you rightly say she was, when you first fell in with her! She had had +no advantages then, nor opportunities of improving herself! Now—she +has lived for more than twelve months in your daily presence, and must +have been dull indeed, if she had not picked up something of your ways +and manners!” +</p> + +<p> +“But she need not <i>insult</i> me!” cried Ricardo, vehemently, “I tell +you, Karl, there is hardly a day goes by, but she stings my pride with +some covert allusion to the Past! What does she know of it? Have you +ever spoken to her of Leonora?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Never!</i> beyond her name!” replied the Baron, decidedly, “what you +related to me of her life and death, I have kept sacredly to myself!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! yes! I am sure of it! I should not have put the question to +you,” said Ricardo, feebly, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead; +“but, O! Von Steinberg, I am utterly miserable! I cannot bear my life +much longer! The sooner it is ended, the better!” +</p> + +<p> +Whatever thoughts had run riot through the Baron’s brain as he set out +for the Cottage, were all merged now in the desire to redress the +wrongs of his old friend, and bring Hannah to her senses. He parted +with Ricardo affectionately—told him that he should speak to his wife +on the subject—and extracted a promise from him, that he would come +the following day and dine quietly with him in Portland Place. And +then he hurried on to the Cottage, determined to give Hannah such a +roasting as she had never received from him in her life before. +</p> + +<p> +He found her dressed in a sort of loose tea-gown, seated in the +Professor’s arm-chair, and apparently engaged in reading one of her +husband’s scientific works. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it strange,” she said, as soon as the usual morning salutations +had passed between them, “that I can’t make out half these words? I +seem to have forgotten how to read!” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t suppose that you ever knew!” returned Von Steinberg, who was +disposed to be rather curt with her on the occasion. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you are mistaken,” she said, without offence, “for I could read +very well—but English is so hard,” she added, pathetically. +</p> + +<p> +The Baron stared at her. Hannah was in one of those queer moods which +were so unaccountable to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind that now!” he said, “I want to talk to you upon another +matter. I met your husband as I was coming up just now, and had some +conversation with him. I think he is looking very ill, and he seems +very unhappy! Why are you treating him so badly, Hannah? What has he +done, that you should make his life a misery to him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who says that I have?” she answered. +</p> + +<p> +“He did! He told me that you have refused to sit any more with him. Is +that true?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! He is wearing me and himself into the grave! He is never +contented, but must sit every night. I shall be ill, if it goes on. +<i>You</i> must prevent it, Karl!” +</p> + +<p> +It was the first time she had ever presumed to call him by his +Christian name and it pleased, whilst it startled him. He drew his +chair nearer to hers. +</p> + +<p> +“I will if I can! I have just been telling Ricardo how bad it is for +you both! But you are not kind to him, Hannah! He says you insult him, +how is that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Bah!” said the girl; “I am sick of his reproaches! They are all on +account of Leonora! If I tell him what is the truth, that Leonora is a +very violent spirit, and that I am more tired after one of her visits +than after twenty others, I have insulted him! +</p> + +<p> +“He is angry now, because you asked me to your house last night, and I +was happy to go. He wants to keep me shut up here all day, whilst he +gives his lessons. It is intolerable! Does he think I am not made of +flesh and blood? But what I told you once before, is true—he married +me, not to get a wife, but a medium! Well! he has got a medium, and +perhaps he will find after all, that a wife might have been a better +thing!” +</p> + +<p> +“Hannah! I am so sorry for all this,” said Von Steinberg, +thoughtfully, “Ricardo is a dear, good fellow in reality, but his +nature has been soured by adversity. He has lost everything,—wife, +fortune, and title—and it has weighed upon his mind. You must bear +with him—he is an old man now——” +</p> + +<p> +“I hate old men!” interposed Hannah. +</p> + +<p> +“No! don’t say that, for I was going to add, that he is much older +than his years, and that I don’t think that he will live for many +more! He is in such a despondent condition too, that I feel very +anxious about him, and I want you to watch him carefully. Have you any +poison about the premises—beetle poison, or oxalic acid, or any of +those mixtures, that servants use for cleaning?” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” inquired Hannah, with open eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I mean, that if his distresses weigh too heavily upon his mind, he +may get up some night and take anything that comes to hand, to end his +life. If you have any such dangerous mixtures in the Cottage, Hannah, +you must throw them away, or lock them up. And you will be very kind +to Ricardo—for my sake, won’t you? +</p> + +<p> +“Get him a nice little hot supper, and meet him with a kind smile, +when he comes in, for he is very low-spirited to-day, and if he asks +for a séance, give him one. He has promised to dine with me alone +to-morrow, and then I will have a serious talk with him, about all +this, and show him the folly of endangering your health and his own +for the sake of his occult studies. Will you do this—for <i>my</i> sake?” +he concluded, looking in her face. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, for <i>your</i> sake, Karl,” she answered, in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! why didn’t <i>I</i> see the beauties in your undeveloped character, +when we first met, and marry you, instead of Ricardo?” exclaimed the +Baron, “there should have been none of this forcing of your +inclinations then! I would have carried you abroad, and let your +natural talents have full sway, until they had blossomed into +fruition. You have a big heart and soul and brain, Hannah! They only +require opportunity, to keep pace with those of anybody.” +</p> + +<p> +“And would you have taken me there?” demanded Hannah, with sudden +interest. +</p> + +<p> +“There—or anywhere!” cried Von Steinberg, rashly. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah made no answer, except what was conveyed by putting her huge +hand into his. He glanced at it, as it lay in his slenderer palm. It +was less rough, and of a better colour, than it had been, but it was +still very, <i>very</i> far from what a lady’s hand should be! As he +regarded it, the same feeling of wonder that had assailed him before, +rose in his breast, as to <i>what</i> it was, that fascinated him in this +woman. +</p> + +<p> +At times he felt an intolerable repugnance to her—at others, he was +drawn towards her, with an irresistible attraction! +</p> + +<p> +Was she a witch? Had she exercised any unholy spell over him? He +looked up in her face with its large, heifer-like eyes—so simple, so +bovine, it appeared—but as he gazed, an archness stole into the +eyes—a wicked smile hovered over the lips—and the Baron felt he was +victimised once more. +</p> + +<p> +“And when are we to begin this wonderful lesson?” asked Hannah, +presently. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t seem to require any lesson to-day,” replied Von Steinberg, +“you are the most unaccountable creature I ever met in my life! If you +would only always remain the same!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then—you would tire of me. It is the way with men.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never!” replied the Baron, after the fashion of lovers; “you are the +one only woman who could never tire me! You are unlike all the rest.” +</p> + +<p> +“So you <i>say!</i>” returned Hannah. “But with regard to my husband—he is +very despondent, you tell me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Terribly so! He frightens me! Do all you can to cheer him, Hannah.” +</p> + +<p> +“And he is likely to attempt his own life?” +</p> + +<p> +“O! no! no! I hope not, most sincerely! But it will be as well to keep +all dangerous articles, such as razors, etc., out of his reach, until +his fit has passed away.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Che sarà, sarà!</i>” murmured Hannah, languidly. +</p> + +<p> +Von Steinberg started again. Had her lips really uttered Italian +words, and with a foreign accent. +</p> + +<p> +“You frighten me sometimes,” he said, with a gasp. “Where on earth did +you pick up that Italian proverb? We shall have you talking Greek +next.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is not the Professor Italian?” replied the girl. “Am I always to +listen and never to learn? What a fool you must take me for?” +</p> + +<p> +“I take you for the sharpest woman I ever met in my life,” exclaimed +the Baron, as he kissed the large hand which he still retained in his. +“And now I must go, as I have an appointment at one. Good-bye! Think a +great deal of what I have said to you, Hannah—and <i>think a little of +me!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +His eyes said more than his words, as he walked hastily out of the +Cottage, as if afraid to trust himself any longer in her presence. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah looked after him lazily. +</p> + +<p> +“He will be mine, when I choose it,” she said to herself, “and it may +not be long first! Ah! to have that house and all its contents placed +at my feet, as a free-will offering! I should feel as if I were in +Heaven!” +</p> + +<p> +She rose slowly from her chair, for Hannah had become very lazy in +those days, and putting on her walking things, left the Cottage also. +When she returned, she found the Professor had reached home before +her. +</p> + +<p> +It was one of the days on which he had his afternoon to himself. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah was well pleased with the turn her fortunes seemed to be +taking. She was disposed to be amiable, but Ricardo had already been +too deeply wounded, and received her advances with repugnance. +</p> + +<p> +“Leave me alone!” he said, testily, “I require none of your +attentions! I suppose my friend Von Steinberg has been talking to you, +and you feel ashamed that he should have heard of your bad conduct. +But I told him all! There is no need for me to conceal anything. +</p> + +<p> +“He saw you with me first—an ungainly, ignorant, uncouth clod of the +earth—they were the very words he used with regard to you—and he +knows what I did, in raising you to the position of my wife! He prayed +and implored me to pause and consider what I was doing before I +brought disgrace on my name and my birth and my family connections, by +linking myself to a maid-of-all-work. But I was mad—I wouldn’t listen +to him. Had I done so, I should have been spared the awful shame you +have put me to, since! I married you, because I believed you to be a +simple, amiable, kind-hearted girl——” +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t!” interposed his wife, “you married me, because you saw +that I was a wonderful medium, and because you were always crying +after your beloved Leonora, and hoped, through me, to have daily +intercourse with her! Why don’t you tell the truth, whilst you’re +about it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! then, that was the truth, since you will have it,” replied the +Professor, “but I wish now that I had died before I ever met you. You +refuse to give me séances—you even say that Leonora is tired of +coming to see me—you are not commonly grateful for the benefits I +have bestowed upon you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where are they?” cried Hannah, insolently. “I should like to see +them. Do you call it a <i>benefit</i>, for a young, hearty girl to be +married to an old dotard, who makes about enough money to keep himself +in victuals and drink, and no more? +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think it is any pleasure to me to be shut up in this little +hole, whilst you’re at work, without money, or amusements, or friends, +and when some one is good enough to take pity on me and ask me to a +pleasant party, you declare that it shall be the last time, and you +will never let me go out again.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I repeat it,” said Ricardo, “you are not fit for such gatherings. +They only make you insolent and over-bearing at home. I told you when +we were married, that you would have to perform the household duties, +as I could not afford to keep a servant. You persuaded me to go +against my own word, but it is over. I shall dismiss the girl this +evening, and for the future you shall do your own work. +</p> + +<p> +“No more parties, nor dresses for you, Madame Ricardo! You are not +fitted for them. One might as well bring a cow into a drawing-room! I +have burned the dress you wore last night, and no money will you ever +get out of me to buy another!” +</p> + +<p> +“That will be no obstacle!” exclaimed Hannah, triumphantly. “I have +money of my own—more than you are ever likely to have to give me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you get it?” said Ricardo, curiously. “Who gave it to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s my business, and not yours,” cried the woman, “if you are such +a beggar, that you cannot afford to give your wife a new dress, she +must get it how she can!” +</p> + +<p> +“My God!” he cried, “what do you insinuate? What do you mean me to +understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“What you like! You can prevent my leaving the house, p’r’aps, but you +can’t make me open my mouth, if I choose to keep it closed.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are a devil! You are not fit to live!” exclaimed the Professor, +as he rose from his chair, as if to advance towards her. But Hannah +was already round the other side of the table. +</p> + +<p> +“You’d like to kill me, wouldn’t you?” she cried; “as you killed +Leonora, but you would find that I wouldn’t take it quite as quietly +as she did!” +</p> + +<p> +At that name, and the announcement that Hannah knew how his first wife +had left the world, Ricardo sank down into the chair, from which he +had risen, trembling like an aspen leaf. +</p> + +<p> +“Leonora! <i>Killed</i> Leonora!” he gasped, with a face of ashes; “who +told you such a—a—lie? What do you mean by speaking to me like +that—of accusing me—of—of——” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah stood where she was, and laughed at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! who?—<i>who?</i>” she said. “Find out! It isn’t all jam to have a +medium in the house, Professor! If sperrits come for one, they will +for another, and you don’t s’pose they’d keep any secrets from me! +Poor Leonora! I wouldn’t ’ave been ’er, by long chalks! And <i>you</i>—who +pretended to be so fond of ’er! Ugh! go along with yer! If you’d had +your rights, you’d been hung on a gallows tree long afore this!” +</p> + +<p> +The wretched Professor could not answer her! He could only hide his +face in his hands, and groan. His dread secret dragged from him, as it +were, and spread out for the coarse criticism of Mrs. Battleby’s +maid-of-all-work! +</p> + +<p> +He did indeed feel at that moment, as though his punishment was +greater than he could bear. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch15"> +CHAPTER XV. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">It’s</span> of no good crying over it now,” taunted Hannah, as the unhappy +man stirred in his seat; “you didn’t mind how much <i>she</i> cried—did +you? You found her on a sofa with young Centi, singing a song for him, +maybe, or playing at cat’s-cradle, like a couple of babies +together—and you took out your knife, and ran her through the ’eart, +without a thought, or a pang——” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! not without a pang, God knows!” moaned the unfortunate +Professor. +</p> + +<p> +“You drove your murdering weapon through ’er ’eart,” continued the +girl, without noticing his interpolation, “with no more mercy, than if +she had been a dangerous animal. +</p> + +<p> +“She ’ad youth and beauty, and all ’er life before ’er, but you cut it +short, without waiting for an explanation of what you saw! Do you know +what she was thinking of, just as she was dying, and you watched the +film steal over her eyes and the blood spirting in little jets from +her blue lips. If she could ’ave spoke to you in that moment, ’er last +words would ’ave been, ‘<i>I ’ate you!</i>’ ” +</p> + +<p> +“Let me go! Let me go! I can stand no more!” cried Ricardo, as he +rushed past her, and mounted the stairs to his own room. +</p> + +<p> +Even there, Hannah would have followed him, and continued her mental +torture, but he was too quick for her, and had locked the door before +she reached it. So she was compelled to go downstairs again, and think +of some way of passing the afternoon. +</p> + +<p> +The Baron had begged her to provide a tasty supper for Ricardo, and +she would not have liked him to hear that she had neglected his +advice, so she arrayed herself in her walking attire and sallied forth +to purchase it. +</p> + +<p> +The Markiness had made quite a little circle of acquaintances in +Hampstead, where her manners and her title, so incongruous with each +other, had excited a great amount of curiosity and interest. Mrs. +Barnett, the grocer’s wife, declared that she had quite turned her +ideas regarding the aristocracy, she was so affable and friendly-like, +and Mrs. Thomson, the butcher’s lady, said that if she had not known +that she was a marchioness, she should have taken her for one of +themselves. +</p> + +<p> +So Hannah, after having enjoyed an hour or two of converse with these +amiable creatures, returned to the Cottage with her little basket on +her arm, well primed for supper. +</p> + +<p> +First, there was a fowl, ready roasted, which she had bought at the +ham and beef shop, with a pound of cut ham to eat with it—a crisp +lettuce and some ruddy tomatoes, which were Ricardo’s greatest +luxuries—and half a dozen cheese-cakes—which were hers. +</p> + +<p> +When, with the aid of her little maid, Charlotte, who numbered fifteen +years, she had set these dainties forth upon the table, Hannah sent a +message up to her husband to say that his supper was ready, but in a +few minutes Charlotte returned, gaping, with the intelligence that the +Markiss wouldn’t answer her, and she thought he must be asleep. Then +Hannah piled a plate with something of everything on the table, and +carrying it upstairs herself, thundered such a tattoo upon the +Professor’s door, that he was obliged to answer it. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is there?” he inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s me—Hannah!—I’ve brought you up your supper!” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want it! I don’t want anything! Go away!” was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Come on! Don’t be foolish! You’d better eat it!” said his wife. +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! All I want is to be left alone!” +</p> + +<p> +“All right!” exclaimed Hannah, as she placed the plate with a loud +clatter on the floor, “there it is, anyway, so don’t go and say you +haven’t had it!” +</p> + +<p> +She bounced downstairs again, with the tread of an elephant, which +Ricardo, hearing, turned on his bed and sighed. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah, however, did not sigh, but applying herself to the remains of +the supper, soon left nothing but the chicken bones for Charlotte to +dispose of. Then she took out some of her needle-work, and toiled +industriously for the best part of an hour. +</p> + +<p> +But her mind was not entirely easy the while. She was fidgety and +anxious. More than once she rose from her chair and, casting the +embroidery aside, paced up and down the little room. +</p> + +<p> +“What a fool I am!” she thought, “why should I have any scruples on +the matter? Had <i>he?</i> Ha! ha! ha! had he?” +</p> + +<p> +When nine o’clock struck, she took a spirit flask from the cellaret +and called to her little maid to bring hot water. +</p> + +<p> +“I am going to mix the Markiss a glass of whiskey and water, he is +sure to drink it during the night, if not now, and he will want +something to make him sleep. Go and fetch a tray—now, make haste, and +bring it to me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! Mum—my lady!——” replied Charlotte, who had never been able to +acquire the proper method of addressing a Marchioness. +</p> + +<p> +When she had left the room, Hannah put sugar and lemon and whiskey and +hot water into the tumbler—but then she seemed to hesitate for a +moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Folly!” she said to herself, “<i>che sarà, sarà!</i> I <i>must</i> be free!” +</p> + +<p> +She dashed a small quantity of white powder into the glass, as she +thought thus, and a moment later Charlotte appeared with the tray. +</p> + +<p> +“Take that up to the Markiss,” she said; “and if he don’t answer you, +say you’ve a message for him from the Baron, and when he opens the +door tell him the Baron ordered me to send him up that the last thing. +Do you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! Mum—my lady!” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, don’t forget. Say first—‘Please, Markiss, the Baron has sent +you a message’—and when he opens the door, hand him the tray and say, +‘The Baron begged as you would drink this,’ and leave it there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! Mum—my lady!” repeated the child. +</p> + +<p> +The ruse succeeded. Ricardo at first refused to unlock his door, +declaring he wanted nothing more that night, but when he heard that +Von Steinberg had a message for him, he left his bed to hear what it +was. +</p> + +<p> +When Charlotte, faithful to her orders, thrust the tray and tumbler +into his hands, and repeated the message, Hannah heard him grumble, +</p> + +<p> +“What did you disturb me for such nonsense for? Here! put the tray +down, and don’t you dare to come near me again to-night, or I’ll send +you home to your mother. Do you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! Markiss—yes! my lord!” stammered the child, as she scuttled +down the stairs again, and ran into the kitchen. +</p> + +<p> +All was silent in the Professor’s room, and Hannah went back to her +needlework. It was the time that she usually went to bed, but she did +not feel as if she could sleep that night. At ten o’clock her little +maid crept into the parlour, white and trembling. +</p> + +<p> +“Please, Mum—my lady——” she commenced, half crying, “there’s sich a +rum noise going on upstairs—like a dog moaning. Please, do you think +it can be the Markiss!” +</p> + +<p> +“The Markiss, child!” said Hannah, who had also suddenly gone +unaccountably white, “why! what do you mean? Why should the Markiss +make a noise? It’s most likely the wind you hear through the trees!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! no! Mum—my lady—please! there’s no wind to-night, and I’m afraid +to go up to bed,” continued Charlotte, weeping. +</p> + +<p> +“What nonsense!” exclaimed her mistress, “I’ll go with you, then, but +what you have to look so scared for, I can’t imagine!” +</p> + +<p> +In consequence, she mounted to the upper storey, with the shrinking +little maid in front of her. Since Von Steinberg’s departure, Hannah +had occupied the room which had been his, whilst her servant slept in +that which had been hers. As they gained the head of the stairs, a +deep, low groan issued distinctly from Ricardo’s apartment, and made +Charlotte burst out afresh. +</p> + +<p> +“O! please, Mum, please, Mum—there it is again! O! I’m sure the pore +Markiss must be very bad in his insides! Won’t you knock at the door +and see?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! yes! as soon as you have gone to bed,” replied Hannah, who was +looking almost as frightened as her handmaid. She pushed the girl into +her chamber and turned the key on the outside. Whatever was happening +in her husband’s room, she would see by herself. She tapped lightly on +the door, but no answer proceeded from the bed, only another low +half-stifled moan, as though an animal lay dying there. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah flew downstairs again and passed out of the front door into the +fresh evening air. She was not afraid of Charlotte turning witness +against her; she would accept any explanation she chose to give—she +was only afraid of encountering those hollow groans again. +</p> + +<p> +After half an hour’s suspense, she re-entered the cottage. A violent +tapping was proceeding from Charlotte’s door. Hannah went first to +inquire why she made such a noise. +</p> + +<p> +“O! please, Mum—my lady—’is groans is dreadful! Won’t you give ’im a +drop of ile, or a pennorth of peppermint?” +</p> + +<p> +“He has locked his door, Charlotte, you know, and I can’t get in. But +if he is not quiet soon, I must send for the Doctor!” +</p> + +<p> +She conjured her little maid to be easy, and went downstairs in search +of a box of carpentering tools. Here she found a crowbar, with which +she knew she could force the Professor’s door. She crept up again with +it in her hand, and listened attentively. There was not a sound in the +room of any kind. +</p> + +<p> +“Either it is over,” she thought, “or he is asleep! Ought I to send +for assistance, or force the door myself? Should I not be justified in +any circumstances in entering the room, considering the groans that +have proceeded from it? Charlotte will be my witness to them! And if a +stranger went in, and <i>he</i>—should—should be still alive—alive +enough to give evidence against me—O no! at all risks, <i>I</i> must be +the one to see him first, and then I can judge what is best to be +done.” +</p> + +<p> +She applied the crowbar to the door with her vigorous hand as she +thought thus, and the lock gave way before it. For an instant, she +hesitated on the threshold—then summoning her courage, dashed in and +approached the bed. +</p> + +<p> +The Professor was just dying—his eyes were glazed—his hands fallen +lifeless by his side. The sight, instead of inspiring pity in Hannah’s +breast, roused a demoniacal fury there. Her husband looked at her as +though to say “<i>You have done this</i>”, and she bent over him and hissed +one word into his ear—“<i>Leonora!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +At the mention of that name, which had been his pride and his shame +throughout his life, the Professor gave a final moan and slightly +turning over—<i>died!</i> His wife gazed at him for a moment, as if she +could not believe the truth—then, with a shudder, she flung the +blanket over his staring eyes, and rushed from the room. +</p> + +<p> +Her next move was to unlock Charlotte, and order her to dress herself +as soon as possible and go to Portland Place to summon the Baron. +</p> + +<p> +“To Portland Place, Mum—my lady!” exclaimed the little maid, who had +hardly ever walked out by daylight, alone. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! the Markiss is very ill! You must take a cab and go there as +quickly as you can, and beg the Baron to come to me at once! Say that +your master is in terrible pain—tell him of the moans you heard—and +that I am very unhappy about it, and must have a doctor at once. Mind +you say how dreadfully anxious I am, Charlotte, and that I have done +everything I can, but it is of no good!” +</p> + +<p> +“ ’Ave you been into ’is room, Mum?” demanded Charlotte, with surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! yes! but don’t stand chattering there! Go as quick as ever you +can, and don’t forget one word of what I have told you.” +</p> + +<p> +When the child was gone, Hannah sat down in the parlour to await the +issue of events. She could not return to the bedroom nor draw the +blanket off those staring eyes. There Von Steinberg found her, an hour +later, when he returned with the little maid. +</p> + +<p> +“Why! what is this?” he exclaimed, as he took her hand; “is my poor +friend ill? Where is he? Let me see him at once!” +</p> + +<p> +“There!” replied Hannah, pointing upwards with her finger; “He looks +dreadful! I can’t stand it! Whatever has happened, that he should be +like this?” +</p> + +<p> +“And you have left him alone, when he is so ill?” said the Baron, +reproachfully, “O! Hannah! I did not think you would do that!” +</p> + +<p> +“He has locked himself into his room all day—Charlotte will tell you +so—and wouldn’t come down to supper, or take anything—and just now I +forced open the door, and he swore at me—so I was frightened, and +sent for you!” +</p> + +<p> +“You did right!” said Von Steinberg, as he ran up the stairs to +Ricardo’s room. +</p> + +<p> +But the first glance told him that his services would be of no avail. +The Professor was dead as a doornail. His head was thrown back—his +eyes were wide open and starting from their sockets—his body had half +fallen from the bed. +</p> + +<p> +Karl von Steinberg felt his heart—pressed his eyeballs—laid his hand +on his pulse—and uttered a deep sigh. +</p> + +<p> +“Gone! my poor Ricardo!” he exclaimed, “and I fear, by your own hand!” +He caught sight of the tumbler, which had contained the whiskey and +water, and raising it to his nose, shook his head mournfully. +</p> + +<p> +“As I thought!” he mused. “O! I should not have left him alone, after +what he said to me this morning! It is half my fault that this has +happened. I shall never forgive myself!” +</p> + +<p> +He lifted the poor wasted carcase on to the bed, closed the eyelids, +laid the arms by his side, and softly closing the door, went +downstairs again. +</p> + +<p> +“My poor girl!” he exclaimed, as he rejoined Hannah, “you must prepare +yourself for a great shock. Our good friend has left us, Hannah! He is +dead!” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite dead,” repeated, Hannah; “are you sure?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite sure! and, what is worse, I am certain he took his own life! O! +I blame myself so much for leaving him, after the conversation we held +this morning. I should have watched over him better. But I did not +think he was really in earnest. My poor Ricardo! I think his work and +these séances have been too much for him, and over-taxed his brain. +He was the last man that I thought would have contemplated suicide! +But it is too evident! The glass on his table contains the remains of +arsenic—I could tell it at a glance!” +</p> + +<p> +“Arsenic!” echoed Hannah, “but where can he have got arsenic?” +</p> + +<p> +“Anywhere! It is used for so many things. Doubtless he bought it +to-day whilst he was out. How did he appear on his return home?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very queer!” replied Hannah, “he wouldn’t speak to Charlotte or me, +but went straight up to his room and locked the door. I went out and +got him a nice little supper, as you told me——” +</p> + +<p> +“Good girl!” interpolated the Baron—— +</p> + +<p> +“But he wouldn’t touch it, though I took it up to him myself, but I +thought he would like some whiskey and water. So Charlotte and me, we +mixed it for him—didn’t we, Charlotte?—and she carried it up, but +even then he wouldn’t open his door, until she told him that <i>you</i> had +ordered him to take it! And then I suppose he—he——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! there is no question about it. He mixed the poison he had +purchased, with the whiskey, and drank it off. My poor friend! Little +did I think he would come to so sad an end! Well! I suppose the +hankering to rejoin his Leonora was too strong for him. I only hope he +is happy with her now!” +</p> + +<p> +“I fancy she has had enough of him,” remarked Hannah. +</p> + +<p> +“Anyway we shall hear the truth from him when he comes back to us! I +should think he was sure to come back through you, Hannah!” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah gave a visible shudder. +</p> + +<p> +“O! don’t speak of such a thing, pray! I shouldn’t like him to come +back. I don’t think he behaved well to me at the last! I don’t never +want to see him again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t say that! You will think differently after a time. You mustn’t +blame him, Hannah! The very fact that he has taken his own life should +convince you that he was not completely in his right mind. Poor +Ricardo! He suffered much in his lifetime, and endured many losses. We +must think as kindly of him now, as we can.” +</p> + +<p> +She seemed so visibly affected, and displayed such a horror of going +upstairs, that the Baron took all the arrangements that were necessary +in his own hands. Before nightfall, everything was settled regarding +the inquest, which was to take place on the following day—the remains +of the poor Professor were placed in a coffin—and the ground was +purchased wherein he was to be laid. +</p> + +<p> +Von Steinberg had sufficient influence to prevent a verdict of <i>felo +de se</i>, being brought in, and his friend was allowed to be buried with +the rites of the Church. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as it was possible, he erected a handsome monument above his +grave, which detailed his real name and rank, and then the Baron +turned his attention to Hannah. She still remained in the Cottage and +appeared to have no intention of leaving it. +</p> + +<p> +Von Steinberg knew that in order to accomplish this, she must have +some assistance. All the Professor’s modest savings did not amount to +a couple of hundred pounds, and these the widow was very anxious +should be deposited in a bank for her against a time of need. +</p> + +<p> +“But how are you to live meanwhile, Hannah?” questioned Von Steinberg +who was most anxious for her welfare; “you have never kept house for +yourself yet, you know, and money goes a very little way in London. +You must let me help you! I will take no denial! Look on me as a +brother, and let me have the pleasure of doing for you, what dear old +Ricardo would have done for a friend of mine, left in similar +circumstances.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I do not need it. I shall have enough!” persisted Hannah. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you intend to get it? What do you mean to do?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Heaps of things,” she replied; “I am a good needlewoman and a good +cook!” +</p> + +<p> +“Needlewoman! Cook!” exclaimed the Baron, indignantly, “do you suppose +for an instant, that I will allow the widow of my dear friend Ricardo +to engage in such menial pursuits? You are much mistaken if you do. +Besides, you have adopted his title. How do you suppose that will +accord with the occupations you speak of?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind!” said Hannah, decidedly, “I know what I’m about, and I +don’t want any money from you.” +</p> + +<p> +She was obstinate, and he ceased to worry her on the subject. All the +same, he often wondered how it was, that she continued, without aid, +to occupy the cottage and retain the services of her little maid. +</p> + +<p> +Once or twice he questioned Charlotte, but could get no satisfactory +information from her. “The Markiness goes out to see her friends in +the evenings mostly,” she said, “and all day she works at her dresses, +and shows me how to cook the dinner.” +</p> + +<p> +This reticence on the part of the Marchesa di Sorrento, made Von +Steinberg all the more eager to pursue her and win her to be his. +Perhaps she knew this, as well as he did himself, at any rate it had +the effect of binding him more closely to her. +</p> + +<p> +Shortly after the Professor’s death, his friend felt anxious to +communicate with him. It would be the best test he had ever had in his +life, he thought, if dear old Ricardo would come back in a +recognisable form and assure him of his identity. +</p> + +<p> +He never doubted but that Hannah, when the first shock of her +husband’s death was over, would gladly fall in with his wishes and +hold a séance, so that the Professor might have an opportunity of +communicating with them both again. +</p> + +<p> +But, to his surprise, she steadfastly opposed the idea. +</p> + +<p> +She didn’t want to sit at all, she said. She had had more than enough +of that sort of thing during her married life, and never even wished +to hear the subject mentioned. She no longer believed in it—the +spirits were not the people they professed to be—she had come to the +conclusion that her father and mother were right, and that they were +devils sent by the Evil One himself to lure her soul to hell. +</p> + +<p> +Von Steinberg reasoned and argued with her to no effect. She remained +unmoved by all his persuasions, and since he had only pursued the +subject, as a science and not a sentimentality, he gave in to her +wishes and said no more about it. +</p> + +<p> +He was convinced that Spiritualism was a fact, and resolved to remain +satisfied with that knowledge. So—although he longed to see his old +friend again, and learn the true reason of his rash act—he decided +that it was not worth while annoying Hannah to obtain it. +</p> + +<p> +The circumstance, however, made him turn his attention in the +direction of other mediums, and in talking with his acquaintances he +said, more than once, how anxious he was to fall in with a reliable +one. +</p> + +<p> +In consequence of this, a man named Colonel Roster said to him one +day, +</p> + +<p> +“By the way, Von Steinberg, my wife has got hold of a most wonderful +medium, and she is to sit at our house this evening. Would you care to +join the party?” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks! I should like it exceedingly! There is nothing interests me +more. Does this medium produce materialisations?” +</p> + +<p> +“O dear yes! Nothing else, I believe! The last time she sat with us, +my sister appeared, exactly as she was in life. I could have sworn to +her anywhere, and several of our friends have seen their relations. Do +come! Mrs. Roster will be delighted to see you!” +</p> + +<p> +“I will, with pleasure!” replied the Baron. +</p> + +<p> +At the appointed time, he presented himself at the Rosters’ house, and +found a large party assembled there, all of whom were talking of +nothing but the marvellous powers of Mrs. Brown, the medium who was +expected that evening. +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you pick her up?” asked the Baron, of the lady of the +house. +</p> + +<p> +“Through an advertisement in one of the spiritualistic papers,” she +replied, “she is rather uncouth at times, but essentially reliable. +Indeed, I never met anyone like her before. But here she comes!” +</p> + +<p> +Von Steinberg looked up with curiosity, and encountered the form and +face of Hannah. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch16"> +CHAPTER XVI. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">As</span> is usual in such cases, the woman was the first to regain her +presence of mind. The encounter was as unexpected to Hannah, as to the +Baron, but she evinced no visible sign of surprise. She only stood +quite still, as if she had never seen him before. +</p> + +<p> +Von Steinberg, on the contrary, was nearly betraying her and himself. +He stammered and stuttered and coloured rosy red, but at last managed +to utter, +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Mrs. Brown! Of course! I think we have had the pleasure of +meeting before,” and advanced towards her, holding out his hand. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah accepted the hand, without comment. +</p> + +<p> +“Met before!” exclaimed Mrs. Roster. “O! where? I flattered myself +that I was the discoverer of Mrs. Brown’s remarkable talents,—at +least in our own circle. I suppose then, Baron, that you have already +been present at her marvellous séances.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Brown is the widow of an old and dear friend of mine,” he +answered, evasively. +</p> + +<p> +“A widow!” echoed the lady of the house; “and does your husband ever +return to you, Mrs. Brown? How intensely interesting! This will make +the third time we have sat with her, Baron,” she continued to Von +Steinberg, “and each time we have seen the form of a man whom no one +in the party recognised. I wonder if it could have been Mr. Brown.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hush!” said the Baron, cautiously, and indeed the pallor which had +suddenly stolen over Hannah’s usually rubicund countenance, quite +justified him in saying so. +</p> + +<p> +“O! I am sorry!” returned Mrs. Roster, as she busied herself in +pressing the medium to take some refreshment before she entered the +séance room. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah faintly asked for a glass of water, and sat down apparently +exhausted in her chair. When the water was brought to her, she drank a +little, and finally declaring she felt too ill to sit, and must +postpone the séance to another day, she rose and quitted the room and +house. +</p> + +<p> +The disappointed sitters gazed at each other in consternation. Colonel +Roster attributed all the blame to his wife. +</p> + +<p> +“What on earth made you allude to her dead husband in so indiscreet a +manner?” he demanded, sharply. “You have just spoilt our evening! What +widow ever wanted the return of Number One, to spy out her doings with +Number Two? We have no one but you to thank for this disappointment!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! I am sorry,” cried his wife; “I thought as everybody’s relations +came back through her, Mr. Brown would be sure to have done so. And it +was only a surmise on my part after all. You say you know her, Baron! +Is she always as sensitive as this?” +</p> + +<p> +“By no means,” replied Von Steinberg, “and I think she must really be +feeling ill. Besides, she has no reason to fear the return of her +husband, who was very good to her! I cannot believe that your allusion +had anything to do with her defalcation. She felt unequal to the +sitting—that is all!” +</p> + +<p> +“You take a load off my mind by saying so,” said Mrs. Roster, “and I +can only hope that when she comes here again, you will be with us, as +on this occasion.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are very kind,” returned Von Steinberg, “but may I ask you one +question? Mrs. Brown was going to sit with you professionally, of +course! What is her fee? I should like to ascertain, for the +information of my friends!” +</p> + +<p> +“Two guineas!” replied the lady, without hesitation. “She did not ask +more! I heard of her through my dressmaker, Mrs. Folkstone, but I +understood that she gave her services somewhat secretly, and it was +not to be talked about. I am so sorry you have missed seeing her—but +perhaps you have sat with her already.” +</p> + +<p> +“Once or twice,” said Von Steinberg, carelessly, and then the subject +dropped. +</p> + +<p> +His friends detained him so late that he could not get out to the +cottage at Hampstead that night, or he certainly would have followed +Hannah to her home, and asked the reason of what he had seen and +heard. He could hardly understand why, but he disliked the idea of her +selling her services to the public, exceedingly. +</p> + +<p> +It was no matter to him that she was dowdily dressed, and known as +“Mrs. Brown”;—he could not bear to think that she placed herself +under such an obligation to strangers—that she should belong, as it +were, to the public, when he wanted to have her entirely as his own. +</p> + +<p> +His meditations that night revealed the truth to him. He was so +fascinated by Hannah Ricardo, that he wished to marry her, and shield +her for ever from the slights and obligations of the world. No one +could have been more amazed than himself, when he had arrived at this +conclusion. He had been a student of men and manners, but he had never +lit on anything more incomprehensible than this before. +</p> + +<p> +He wanted to marry Hannah Stubbs—he, who had so opposed the same idea +in his friend. Ricardo had formed the wish, in order to keep Leonora +by his side, whilst he, Von Steinberg, desired the same thing solely +for Hannah. +</p> + +<p> +He longed to possess this woman, with her overwhelming +personality—her clumsy movements—her broad smile—her arch looks and +witching eyes—for herself alone, and himself entirely. +</p> + +<p> +He tried to recall her, as she used to be, but failed to do so. She +seemed to have cast aside her chrysalis shell and emerged (in mind at +least) a butterfly! And yet outwardly, there was no difference! +</p> + +<p> +Where did the fascination lie? He could not determine, but felt that +it was there, and that in her was contained the happiness of his +future life. +</p> + +<p> +He rose early, and was at the Hampstead cottage by eleven o’clock. +</p> + +<p> +His first words to her were those of reproach. +</p> + +<p> +“Hannah! how could you do this thing without letting me know? It +nearly paralysed me to meet you at the Rosters last night in the +capacity of a public medium. What would dear old Ricardo say, if he +could know it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then he should have left me enough to exist upon,” replied Hannah, +“Charlotte and I can’t live on dry bread—even if we got enough of +that!” +</p> + +<p> +“But I have asked you again and again, in case of need, to apply to +me. What is the use of being your friend, if I may not have the +pleasure of helping you out of your difficulties? You deprive me of +one of the great privileges of friendship! And to sit when you are ill +too! It is so unlike you to turn faint! You must have been sadly +overworking yourself! Are you quite recovered this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite, thank you,” replied Hannah, reservedly—reservedly on purpose +to make him speak out. +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad of that,” said Von Steinberg, “but to return to our +subject;—I trust you do not intend to follow up Spiritualism as a +means of livelihood for the future!” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah lay back in her chair, lazily, and fixed her large, full eyes +upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“For a dozen reasons! Principally, because your husband so decidedly +set his face against it, and then because I—I, who am your greatest +and truest friend, Hannah, think it is beneath you, and degrades you.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I must live!” persisted the woman. +</p> + +<p> +“Are there not other ways? If your money will not suffice to keep you +comfortably for a year or two——” +</p> + +<p> +“And what after that?” she exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +The Baron hesitated. Should he make the fatal plunge? +</p> + +<p> +“My purse is always open to you, Hannah,” he faltered. +</p> + +<p> +“I have already told you, Baron, that I cannot consent to be a +pensioner upon your charity,” she replied. “You speak of what the +world will say! The world would talk a great deal more of your paying +my bills, than it would of my giving séances to keep myself! It can +never be! That is decided!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then give me the right to empty the contents of my purse at your +feet, Hannah,” cried Von Steinberg, losing control of himself. “Come +to me as my wife, and the mistress of all I possess! Marry me—be the +Baronne von Steinberg, and let us pass the rest of our lives +together.” +</p> + +<p> +“I could not give up my title of Marchesa for that of Baronne,” +remarked Hannah, coolly. +</p> + +<p> +“You may call yourself what you choose, so long as you will be my +wife!” repeated the Baron. “Hannah! I have longed to ask you this ever +since you were free. Crown my happiness by giving me your promise +now!” +</p> + +<p> +“It is too soon to think of such a thing,” argued Hannah—“only three +months after my husband’s death!” +</p> + +<p> +But her reluctance only urged him on to fresh entreaties. Perhaps she +was clever enough to know it would! +</p> + +<p> +“What does that signify?” he said, “what is Time to dear Ricardo now, +and whose opinion do we care for, but his? He is happy, I am sure, and +would wish to see you happy, and well provided for, too. Come! Hannah, +do not let any absurd scruples stand in the way of my proposal. No one +need even know when the ceremony takes place. We are both almost +strangers in London! +</p> + +<p> +“Who is to be the wiser what we do, or leave undone! Let me marry you +quietly some morning, as poor Ricardo did, and carry you off at once +to the Continent. There, we can stay a month, or a year, as pleases us +best, and when we return, I will instal you as mistress of my house in +Portland Place, and all I have. Come! is it a bargain?” +</p> + +<p> +As Von Steinberg mentioned his property, Hannah’s eyes glistened with +pleasurable anticipation. <i>This</i> was what she had been working +for—what she had known she would gain at the last. She turned her +voluptuous orbs upon him, and languidly held out her large hand. +</p> + +<p> +The Baron seized it and kissed it with rapture. It would have +signified nothing to him at that moment, had it been twice as large. +The woman had magnetised his every sense, and he was a tool in her +hands. +</p> + +<p> +“And when shall it be, Hannah?” he asked, as soon as he had recovered +his powers of speech. “To-day?—to-morrow?—it cannot be too soon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not for you, perhaps,” she replied, with all the airs of a grand +lady, “but you forget, Baron, that I cannot start on a wedding-tour, +in a black dress and a widow’s bonnet! You must be good enough to draw +my small principal from the bank for me, and allow me a few weeks in +which to spend it, so that I may be able to appear as your wife should +do!” +</p> + +<p> +“A few weeks!” exclaimed Von Steinberg, with really comical dismay, “I +will send you the money this afternoon, and surely a few days should +see you fully equipped. You need not wait to have things made in +London. Get just what may be necessary for the moment, and buy your +wardrobe in Paris!” +</p> + +<p> +“In Paris!” exclaimed Hannah, “will you really take me to Paris?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly! and to stay there if you desire it! There is no place on +earth to which I would not take you, Hannah, if you told me to do so, +but I think a residence in Paris will suit us both entirely.” +</p> + +<p> +He lavished kisses on her flat, good-humoured face, and Hannah +returned them in kind, for a passionate temperament was not the least +of her virtues. +</p> + +<p> +Before they parted that morning, it was decided that the marriage +should take place privately in a fortnight’s time, and that they were +to leave England the same day for the Continent. Hannah promised she +would give no more public séances, and really looked quite handsome +under the prospect of renewed happiness—not to say the acquisition of +the house in Portland Place, and all its treasures, to which her eyes +had so longingly turned. +</p> + +<p> +Once more by himself at home, Karl von Steinberg had leisure to wonder +if his action of the morning had been wise. Hannah had not proved, in +all things, quite amenable to the discipline of his old friend, but +then Ricardo <i>was</i> old—he told himself—and May and December never +did hit it off well together yet. He was far more suitable in age to +Hannah, and would prove a livelier companion. +</p> + +<p> +It was astonishing to remember how young she was—only nineteen—and +yet so worldly-wise in some things, and in others so quick and +cunning! She had wonderfully developed since her marriage—no one +would know her for the same girl—she doubtless possessed vast +capabilities, which travel and his society would tend to unfold. The +Baron quite anticipated bringing back an accomplished lady from the +Continent. +</p> + +<p> +And he was not far wrong! Hannah <i>had</i> developed powers of observation +and attainment, which bid fair to let her stop at nothing short of +excellence. Each time the Baron met her, face to face, the half-formed +doubts which he held, as to the wisdom of the marriage, faded away, +and left him with but one certainty—that he could not live without +her. The plans they had formed, then, were faithfully carried out, and +within a fortnight, the same Registrar who had married her to Signor +Ricardo, transformed Hannah Stubbs into the Baronne von +Steinberg—though (as she had previously informed her husband) she +always intended to retain her old title of Marchesa di Sorrento. +</p> + +<p> +Are the raptures which we anticipate in marriage, or any other +exploit, ever realised to their full extent? As a rule, surely not, +and Von Steinberg was no exception. Hannah remained the same after +marriage as she had been before, but the novelty of possession soon +wore off, and when that occurred, Von Steinberg of all men, with his +cool, calculating German temperament, was the most likely to see the +spots upon the sun. +</p> + +<p> +However, they established themselves in Paris, and a few months of the +gay city did wonders for his wife in the way of polish and manners. +Naturally quick and cunning, and with a remarkable facility for the +acquisition of languages, the Marchesa soon lost most of her +vulgarisms and became quite <i>au fait</i> with great people and their +ways. +</p> + +<p> +The English who met her abroad, put all her eccentricities down to the +fact that she was an Italian Marchesa, and the Parisians ascribed them +to the misfortune of her having been born a Briton. But Hannah made +the most of her opportunities. She went out whenever she was invited, +mixing freely with foreigners, as well as her own countrymen, and in +consequence, gathering knowledge and information wherever they were to +be found. +</p> + +<p> +By this means, when, after a year’s residence abroad, Baron von +Steinberg brought his wife back to England, if not still in love with +her, he had ceased to be ashamed of her. But the same perplexity which +had puzzled him in Ricardo’s time, still stirred in his brain. <i>What</i> +was it in Hannah that attracted him, spite of himself? Sometimes he +felt ready to lay down his life for her—at others, he regarded her +with disfavour, almost with repugnance! +</p> + +<p> +But as the mistress of his house—the dispenser of his +hospitality—she was perfect. She had a courteous and gracious manner, +which she extended equally to peer and peasant, and which made +strangers, who had never seen another side to her character, consider +her the most charming hostess under the sun. Whilst when at other +moments she spoke her mind freely—far too freely—concerning people +and their actions, her visitors still ascribed it to her genuineness +and total disregard of what the world might say, or think. +</p> + +<p> +What astonished Von Steinberg more than anything else, was the +complacency with which she accepted the fact of his wealth, and the +nonchalance with which she treated his pictures, and statues, and +hot-house flowers. She took everything that he gave her, as if she had +been used to it all her life—she accepted it from him graciously, but +she was not overwhelmed with gratitude for his generosity. He would +not have had her betray her lowly birth and breeding, by expressing +ignorance of such luxuries, but it amazed him, all the same. +</p> + +<p> +He thought his wife had everything she could have expected, and a +great deal more than she had any right to demand, but yet Hannah was +not satisfied. As soon as they were settled in town, they commenced to +give a series of magnificent parties, and their rooms were crowded +with sycophantic guests, mostly of the middle class—the sort of +people who will go anywhere—to whom a party means a dance, or a +supper, and who care nothing who gives it, so long as it is given. +</p> + +<p> +His visitors satisfied the Baron, but the Marchesa had higher +views—she aspired to see the aristocracy sitting round her +dinner-table, and quoting her hospitality as the freest in London—her +cook as the best to be got anywhere. It was all very well, she +thought, to be entertaining Colonel and Mrs. Langley, or Mr. and Mrs. +Belleville, but what use were they to her in return? +</p> + +<p> +She wanted Dukes and Duchesses and Earls and Countesses at her +receptions, and to make them not only come, but <i>ask</i> to come. She +racked her clever brain over this many a time and oft, without letting +her husband into the secret, and one day the opportunity came to her. +</p> + +<p> +She was receiving a number of ladies at afternoon tea, when the +conversation suddenly turned on Spiritualism. +</p> + +<p> +The Marchesa, who was leaning back on a settee, arrayed in a tea-gown +of maize coloured satin, trimmed with costly lace, affected to know +nothing of the matter. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” she inquired, languidly, “nothing wicked, I hope, Mrs. +Mostyn.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! dear me, no! Marchesa, how could you imagine such a thing?” +replied her guest. “It is only a game, you know! Sitting round a table +and making it spin and answer questions, and all such nonsense!” +</p> + +<p> +“It is a great deal more than that,” interposed an unmarried lady, +named Selwyn, “it is a very serious thing! Spiritualism is raising the +spirits of the Dead, and our clergyman, Mr. Tennant, says it is +sorcery, and condemned by Scripture. My mamma will not hear of my +having anything to do with it, which has been a great disappointment +to me, for the Countess of Loreley——” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! if you are interested in the pursuit, I am sure there can be no +need to wait for your mamma’s permission,” interrupted Mrs. Mostyn, +rudely, “you are surely old enough to judge for yourself. I do think +it is so ridiculous of mothers, trying to keep their grown-up +daughters in leading strings. Why! I had a couple of children before I +was your age!” +</p> + +<p> +“You were speaking of the Countess of Loreley,” said the Marchesa, +with the apparent view of changing the conversation, “does her +Ladyship take an interest in the subject?” +</p> + +<p> +“O! yes, she is quite wild about it,” replied Miss Selwyn, who was +looking red and confused from Mrs. Mostyn’s attack; “and mamma has +prevented my going there as often as usual, in consequence. Lady +Loreley is my godmother, you know, and I used to be always at her +house, but now——” +</p> + +<p> +“Has Mrs. Selwyn compelled you to give up the Countess’s +acquaintance?” asked Hannah, indifferently. +</p> + +<p> +“O! no, but I do not see her so often, and never when there is to be a +séance! Very unfair, isn’t it? not that I care so much about the +séance, but I would not lose Lady Loreley’s goodwill for all the +world.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Countess believes in Spiritualism then?” +</p> + +<p> +“O! yes! entirely! She is always sitting with some medium or other, +but she says they are very unsatisfactory. She told me yesterday, that +she would give hundreds of pounds to find a medium, who could bring +her little Rosie back to speak with her again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Much better leave the poor child in peace—wherever she may be!” +remarked Mrs. Mostyn with a sneer. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you have never lost a child, Mrs. Mostyn,” said the single +lady. +</p> + +<p> +“No! nor you either, I conclude, my dear,” replied the other, “but all +this talk about Spiritualism is only got up for want of a better +excitement. For my own part I don’t believe a word of it, and I am +sure the Marchesa agrees with me!” +</p> + +<p> +“One should be careful to reserve one’s opinion, when one has not +inquired into a thing!” replied Hannah, as she reclined on her couch +and gently fanned herself. +</p> + +<p> +But when her visitors rose to depart, and Miss Selwyn was about to +leave the room with the rest of the party, she detained her by a +gentle pull at her sleeve. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait a moment longer,” she whispered, “I want to speak to you,” and +Miss Selwyn, who was only too pleased to be singled out for favour by +the Marchesa, dallied with a book of engravings, which lay upon a side +table, until the rest were gone. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me more about this poor Countess,” said Hannah, drawing nearer +to her; “I feel so interested in any one who has lost a dear child—a +girl, I think you said.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! yes, Marchesa,” replied Miss Selwyn, “Lady Rose Charleville—such +a dear little creature. She died of scarlet fever at seven years old, +and though Lady Loreley has married daughters, she has never forgotten +her. She always cries when Lady Rose is mentioned.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor dear!” said Hannah, sympathetically, “how I wish I could help +her! And I think I could, if she would come and see me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Could you <i>really?</i>” cried Miss Selwyn, clasping her hands, “O! +Marchesa, how she would bless you for it! She would worship you! But +how is it to be accomplished?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is <i>my</i> secret, my dear! I know more of this matter than I chose +to say in public, and if you like to bring your Countess here, I will +introduce her to some one who may put her in the way of seeing her +child again! But you mustn’t chatter on the subject, for if the Baron +heard that I encouraged anything of the sort, he would be very angry. +It is not only your mamma, Miss Selwyn, who disapproves of +Spiritualism.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! I know that, and I would not mention what you have told me for all +the world. But when may I bring the Countess here!” +</p> + +<p> +“On second thoughts, I think you had better tell her what I have said, +and leave her to make her own appointment with me. I could not permit +you to assist at our conference, you know, for fear of offending your +mamma.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps it will be better not,” replied the girl, in a disappointed +tone, “for I have promised mamma never to attend a sitting again. May +I tell Lady Loreley that you will have the medium here to meet her, +Marchesa? I shall see her this evening!” +</p> + +<p> +“You had better say nothing, but what I have told you—that if she +wishes it, I think I can help her to see her child again. Then she can +make an appointment with me, or not, as she chooses!” +</p> + +<p> +“Fancy! her <i>not</i> choosing!” exclaimed Miss Selwyn, “why, she will +rush to you as soon as ever she can!” +</p> + +<p> +And in effect, the very next day Hannah received a coronetted note +from the Countess of Loreley, to say that, with her kind permission, +she would call in Portland Place that afternoon. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch17"> +CHAPTER XVII. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">No</span> one who had seen the Marchesa, as she sat in her drawing-room, +awaiting the arrival of the Countess of Loreley, would have recognised +her as the maid-of-all-work, Hannah Stubbs, who had married Signor +Ricardo, from Mrs. Battleby’s lodging-house, less than three years +before. She wore a robe fashioned by a dressmaker, chosen for her by +the Baron; her abundant hair had been arranged by her lady’s maid in +the height of the prevailing style; she displayed one or two articles +of costly jewelry; she was neither under, nor overdressed. +</p> + +<p> +Her personal appearance, also, was wonderfully improved, Hannah was +not yet twenty-one, but she looked thirty. Her figure was still +unshapely and abundantly covered with flesh, but her skin was +smoother, and her complexion and hands properly attended to. +</p> + +<p> +She was still a coarse specimen of her sex—there have been such +anomalies in this world as coarse and vulgar duchesses, and when bred +to the position into the bargain—and she would never be really +handsome, but there was a bonhomie in her expression, and a frank +good-humour in her smile, which was, perhaps, all that remained of +Hannah Stubbs in her composition. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Loreley, who had been led by Miss Selwyn, to expect something +altogether out of the common in the Marchesa di Sorrento, (—“Awfully +good-natured, dear Lady Loreley, you know, but O! such a moving mass +of flesh—like a female elephant—and says such queer things at times, +but she thinks she can help you and so,” etc, etc,—) was quite taken +by surprise, when Hannah, perfectly at her ease, but with +unquestionable welcome beaming from her eyes, rose from the sofa to +say how pleased she was to make her acquaintance. +</p> + +<p> +The two women sat down to afternoon tea together, and were soon on +friendly terms. Naturally, the topic which engrossed Lady Loreley’s +thoughts was not long in coming to the front. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Selwyn delivered your most kind message to me, Marchesa,” +commenced the bereaved mother, “and you must not be surprised at my +availing myself of your kindness at so early a period. My dear child +was my idol, the youngest of my large family, and I lost her in so +cruelly sudden a manner. Only four days ill of scarlet fever, and she +had gone from us. She could not stand up against it! She was always +delicate, my poor little Rose! And is it possible that you can help me +to see her? O! Marchesa!” cried the Countess, seizing her hands, “if +you can, I shall be your debtor to the last day of my life. Only one +glimpse, that is all I ask, one glimpse to assure me that she lives +and that I shall meet her again, and I shall die content!” +</p> + +<p> +The Marchesa did not release the Countess’s hands—on the contrary, +she retained and pressed them firmly. +</p> + +<p> +“Is your Ladyship aware of the method pursued in such cases? Do you +know that the services of a materialising medium are necessary, and +that often even they are not successful?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! yes! but I should not mind how often I had to sit, if I only +succeed at last! And expense is no object whatever! I have tried all +sorts of mediums, dear Marchesa, but have never heard a word, nor seen +a sign of her! O! it has been heart-rending—discouraging—but I shall +never cease trying till I succeed!” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I know a way by which you can see her!” replied Hannah, whose +eyes had been dreamily fixed upon space for the last minute. +</p> + +<p> +“Pray, pray, tell it to me!” exclaimed the Countess, with agitation. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment! I must ask you first to bind yourself to the strictest +secrecy! My husband, the Baron, is like many in the present day, most +averse to my mixing myself up in Spiritualism with any but himself, +and if he heard that you and I had been sitting together, he would +certainly forbid me to help you any more!” +</p> + +<p> +“I will be secret as the grave!” said Lady Loreley, fervently; “no one +shall ever hear a word of it from me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Not even the Earl, or Miss Selwyn?” asked Hannah. +</p> + +<p> +“No one! Not even my nearest and dearest, unless you give me leave!” +was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you must come with me to my private boudoir,” said the Marchesa. +</p> + +<p> +“What! is the medium there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! she will be there!” replied Hannah, as she rang the bell and +desired the servant to deny her to any other callers. +</p> + +<p> +Then, she led the way up to her little boudoir, round which the +Countess looked curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“You have successfully concealed your medium, dear Marchesa!” she +said. +</p> + +<p> +“No! Lady Loreley, she is in full view! <i>I</i> am the medium!” +</p> + +<p> +Her visitor started with surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>You!</i> Are you jesting with me, Marchesa? Is it possible that you can +call back the spirits of the Dead?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just as possible as anybody else! No one can <i>call</i> them back, Lady +Loreley! But they come all the same, when they get the opportunity! +Are you nervous? Shall you be afraid to sit in the dark with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“O! no! I don’t think so,” replied the Countess, who was already +shivering with fright. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah lowered the blinds, closed the dark red silk curtains, locked +the door and taking a seat on the sofa, invited Lady Loreley to sit +beside her and hold her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“But don’t you require a table?” inquired the Countess. +</p> + +<p> +“Not that I know of,” replied Hannah. “No spirit that has ever come to +me, has made any request of the sort! I don’t even know if they use +tables over there. Don’t you see a bluish mist rising, close by the +window curtains? Don’t be frightened if I go to sleep. I generally do, +but you will be quite safe. Nothing can hurt you.” +</p> + +<p> +And as she was in the midst of talking thus, the Marchesa went under +control and knew nothing more. When she awoke, she found the Countess +of Loreley on her knees before her, sobbing as if her heart would +break. +</p> + +<p> +“O! you dear Angel!” she cried, “I can never, <i>never</i> thank you +enough, for what you have done for me to-day. You are a wonder! a +miracle! You must have been sent on earth by God, expressly to give +comfort to broken-hearted mothers like myself!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why! have you seen anything?” demanded Hannah, rousing herself from +her benumbing trance. +</p> + +<p> +“Seen anything!” echoed Lady Loreley, “I have seen that which has +transformed me from a despairing woman to a happy one! I have seen my +little Rose! You said you saw a bluish mist near the window. She +walked straight out of that mist, and smiled at me! I spoke to her, +and I thought her lips moved, but I could not hear any words, but she +smiled at me—she stood there in her little white nightdress and bare +feet, just as she was, dear darling! when I laid her in her +coffin—and I know she lives, and I am happy once more—and O! dear +Marchesa, what can I ever do to show my gratitude to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only be quiet,” said Hannah, holding up her hand, “and say nothing to +anybody. Come and see me sometimes, Lady Loreley, and the more +intimate you become with me, the more clearly you will see your little +Rose, and the more confidently will she come back to you! Did no one +else appear?” +</p> + +<p> +“No one whom I recognised! An old man’s face seemed hovering over your +head, but it frightened me rather, and I did not look.” +</p> + +<p> +At those words “an old man’s face”, the Marchesa seemed to shiver +slightly, and her next injunction was delivered rather hurriedly, +</p> + +<p> +“Now, mind, Countess, you must not breathe a word of what has occurred +this afternoon to any one, or it will never happen again. The Baron +would be so angry he would forbid my sitting with you at all! You can +see that I say this for <i>your</i> sake, more than for my own.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! yes, indeed,” said Lady Loreley, “but, Marchesa—I was going to +ask you such a great favour! My eldest daughter, the Duchess of +Penywern, lost her baby last year—such a splendid boy, heir, of +course, to the title and estates, and she would give her life, I +verily believe, to see him again. +</p> + +<p> +“And my aunt, Lady John Valerian, who is most interested in +Spiritualism, would consider it such an inestimable favour, if you +would let her accompany me, next time I have the pleasure of visiting +you! They would be as silent as myself concerning our visits here, I +can assure you, and I am certain you would like them both—my daughter +especially, who is a most amiable young woman.” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah considered for a moment what she should reply. Here was the +very thing which she had longed and striven for, dropping like a ripe +plum into her mouth. A Countess—a Duchess—and the wife of a Lord! +She must secure the lot, but not for séances in her private room—for +exhibition at her public parties! +</p> + +<p> +“You are asking a great deal, Lady Loreley,” she replied, with a +pursed-up mouth, as though she were considering the possibility of +granting her request. “If it depended on myself, I should only be too +pleased to accede to your wishes, but, as I have already told you, my +husband would not approve of my sitting with ladies of whom I know, as +yet, so little.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! but you must know more of us, dear Marchesa,” cried Lady Loreley. +“You must come to my house and let me introduce you to my daughter and +my aunt! What day are you at liberty to dine with us? Would next +Thursday suit you? I have no engagement for that day! Then if you and +the Baron will give us the pleasure of your company at dinner, I will +have the Duchess and Lady John to meet you!” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe we are at liberty for Thursday,” replied Hannah, with her +air of <i>grande dame</i>, “but remember! Lady Loreley, the motive of your +visit must be kept a dead secret, if you ever wish to see it renewed.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may depend on my discretion, Marchesa!” replied the Countess, as +she grasped her hand; “I can never, never thank you sufficiently for +what you have done for me to-day, and I hope we shall be the most +excellent friends in the future!” +</p> + +<p> +So Lady Loreley took her leave, and that was the beginning of the +Marchesa di Sorrento counting dukes and duchesses amongst her visiting +acquaintances. +</p> + +<p> +Secretly, but surely, the news flew amongst the aristocratic crowd, +that this mysterious Marchesa, the nationality of whom no one could +determine, was the most wonderful woman on the face of the earth, and +many were the little private séances held by her in her boudoir, +unknown to all but the favoured few, whom she admitted there. +</p> + +<p> +As time went on and one lady asked to be allowed to bring her brother, +and another entreated that her husband might be initiated into the +occult mysteries of the Marchesa’s boudoir, gentlemen began to mingle +with the lady sitters, and the séances became more general and more +renowned. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile Karl von Steinberg knew nothing of what went on during his +absences from home, or that his wife ever sat for the amusement of the +grandees who commenced to throng her receptions. He often wondered +<i>where</i> she had picked them up, or how contrived to induce them to +visit her, but he knew she was very clever, and admired her all the +more for each fresh proof she gave him of it. He was not blind, +however, to the kudos, which accrued to both of them, from the +presence of the nobility in his wife’s drawing-rooms, and he evinced +it by the frequency with which he showed himself there. He constantly +found the Marchesa the centre of an adoring group of ladies, and an +admiring crowd of men, and the fact bound him closer to her. We always +like others to approve of what we like ourselves—so long as they do +not go too far! +</p> + +<p> +There was one man, however—an Italian of the name of Gueglielmo, whom +Karl von Steinberg began to view with aversion. He used to take his +stand behind the Marchesa’s sofa, and remain there the entire evening, +whispering in her ear, or gazing at her face and figure. Once, Von +Steinberg spoke to his wife about the too evident admiration of Signor +Gueglielmo, and expressed his wish that she should discourage him a +little, by directing her attention to the other gentlemen of the +party. +</p> + +<p> +“Discourage Gueglielmo!” she exclaimed tartly, “and why? Because he is +the only one of my countrymen present! I shall do no such thing!” +</p> + +<p> +Von Steinberg regarded her with surprise! She was beginning to use the +same tone with him, that she had with his friend Ricardo. +</p> + +<p> +“Your countryman!” he repeated; “what absurdity are you thinking of? +Your being styled ‘Marchesa’ does not constitute you an Italian! He is +neither your countryman nor mine, and I will not have him so much +about the house. If you do not give him a hint on the subject, I +shall!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you may do your dirty work yourself,” retorted Hannah. “I like +him and I shall not tell him otherwise. He is Italian! He soothes me!” +</p> + +<p> +“You will have to obey me all the same,” said the Baron, angrily. “If +ever I catch him leaning over your sofa again in the open fashion he +did last night, I’ll——” +</p> + +<p> +“Run me through with a dagger, I suppose!” interposed Hannah, with the +sudden, cunning, evil look in her eyes, which he could never +understand. +</p> + +<p> +“What made you say that?” he asked, quickly. +</p> + +<p> +She shrugged her shoulders, and commenced to whistle a popular air. +</p> + +<p> +Von Steinberg left the room in a rage. There were times—many +times—when he almost hated his wife! She had never shown any +disposition for flirting—it was not her proclivity—she was too heavy +and indolent and inert to take the trouble to lay herself out to +fascinate any man. He could not suspect her of it. And yet, had she +been the most desperate coquette in the world, she could not have been +more determined to have her own way about this man Gueglielmo. And the +look in her eyes, when she suggested he might stab her! whence did it +come? The idea perplexed him! Sometimes he wondered if Hannah were +always herself, or if evil spirits took possession of her and +controlled her expression and her words. +</p> + +<p> +When he met her next, at dinner, all trace of the unpleasant interview +they had held together, had passed away. Hannah was Hannah once +more—placid and obtuse as a well-fed cow grazing in a meadow, and +without a care or an ambition in the world. +</p> + +<p> +Before their meal was concluded, the footman brought a somewhat soiled +envelope to the Marchesa, on a silver tray. +</p> + +<p> +She took it up and looking at the address carelessly, inquired: “Who +brought this?” +</p> + +<p> +“A young man, my lady!—looks as if he came from the country,” was the +reply. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah opened the letter and read it, then said in a loud voice, +</p> + +<p> +“Tell this man I will not see him! I don’t know who he is! Send him +away.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it, Hannah?” demanded Von Steinberg. She threw the envelope +across the table to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Only a begging petition! I receive them every day. It is no use +answering these sort of people!” +</p> + +<p> +The Baron glanced at the epistle, and frowned as he did so. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear, you cannot have read this,” he said, in a lowered voice, “it +is from Joseph Brushwood! He has bad news for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“And who is Joseph Brushwood?” she asked; “I never heard the name +before.” +</p> + +<p> +Von Steinberg ordered the servants in attendance to quit the room, +until he rang for them, and to detain the messenger downstairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Or stay!” he corrected himself, “put him in the library, and say I +will be with him presently!” +</p> + +<p> +“So the petition is for yourself, after all!” remarked his wife, as +they found themselves alone. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Hannah! what are you talking about?” said the Baron. “You +<i>cannot</i> have read this letter. It is signed Joseph Brushwood, and is +to say that he has some bad news about your mother, and wants to speak +to you by yourself!” +</p> + +<p> +“And I repeat, who <i>is</i> Joseph Brushwood?” demanded Hannah, with +genuinely astonished eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Why! surely you cannot have forgotten Joe Brushwood coming up to town +with your mother, when we were at Mrs. Battleby’s. Joe Brushwood, the +young man to whom you were engaged, before you married dear old +Ricardo! It is impossible that you can forget!” +</p> + +<p> +“And he wishes to see me privately?” continued the Marchesa, with +perfect calmness. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! I am afraid you must be prepared for a shock, Hannah, for he +says he has come to town expressly to see you! Shall I accompany you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! I prefer to see him by myself!” replied Hannah, as she rose +majestically from the table and proceeded to the library. +</p> + +<p> +There she encountered Joe Brushwood, who had cast her off in the days +gone-by, standing by the window and looking very sheepish. He was not +altered in the least—a trifle stouter, perhaps, and a trifle coarser, +but attired in his best velveteen coat and corduroy breeches, with a +gaily flowered waistcoat. He started violently as he caught sight of +Hannah. +</p> + +<p> +He had heard that she had married a rich gentleman, but he had had no +idea of encountering such magnificence as this. The Marchesa was +arrayed in her ordinary dinner-dress, but it looked like a robe of +state in the unsophisticated eyes of her former admirer. +</p> + +<p> +“And what is it that you may want of me?” she demanded, with her +grandest air, as she advanced upon the astonished Brushwood. +</p> + +<p> +“Lor! Hannah!” he exclaimed—but she quickly brought her foot down +upon such insolent familiarity. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you? How <i>dare</i> you address me in such terms? I am the +Marchesa di Sorrento! You will have the goodness to call me ‘my Lady’, +if you speak to me at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! yes! certainly. I’m sure I begs your pardon,” replied Joe, as he +nervously twisted his bowler hat round in his hands, “but I came up +from Settlefield a purpuss this mornin’, and I’ve been walking round +Lunnon for hours, trying to find out where you lived—” +</p> + +<p> +“And what has all this to do with me?” demanded Hannah. +</p> + +<p> +“O! I ain’t done yet!” continued the young man. “Your pore mother, +she’s werry bad indeed, and she wants to see you terrible! I don’t +know what’s the matter with her, but she’s going fast, the Doctor +says, and times ’ave been werry bad this season, and your father says +’e don’t know ’ow ’e’ll bury ’er, without some ’elp. And so—as we +’eard as you was married to a rich gentleman, we made so bold as to +come up—leastways <i>I</i> did—to arsk if you could spare ’em a trifle, +and go down and see your pore mother afore she dies!” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah let the whole of this long-winded speech come to a finish, +before she collected her forces and answered it. +</p> + +<p> +“You have made a mistake, young man,” she said at last, “I know +nothing of Settlefield, or the people you are begging for. I am the +Marchesa di Sorrento! Some one must have put you on the wrong scent +for a joke! If your friends are in such want, you had better apply to +their parish for relief! I have my own poor people to look after, and +cannot afford to provide for strangers.” +</p> + +<p> +Joe Brushwood scratched his head, and opened his eyes wide. +</p> + +<p> +“But you was Hannah Stubbs—sure-<i>ly</i>!” he ejaculated, “as lived at +Settlefield and was my young woman! Everyone knows you down there, as +well as the village pump! And sure-ly, you won’t turn on your own +mother now she’s sick and dying and in want! A fiver would set ’em +right, but the times ’as been ’ard, and they’ve several mouths to +feed, and if you <i>are</i> a Mar-cheesa you might ’ave ’uman feelings!” +</p> + +<p> +“You are an insolent impostor!” cried Hannah, indignantly. “How dare +you speak to me in that way? Your young woman, indeed! I should like +the Baron to hear you! I don’t believe one word of your trumped-up +story. I have no mother, nor father, and I never set eyes on you in my +life before! If you presume to worry me again I shall give you into +charge of the police.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you denies of them?” replied the young man, reproachfully. “I’m +not so surprised at your saying as you don’t know <i>me</i>, for I give you +a nasty slap in the face larst time we met—but to deny the mother as +bore you and she a’dying—and with hardly a rag to ’er back, or food +to eat—well! I wouldn’t ’ave your ’eart, for ever so! that I +wouldn’t!” +</p> + +<p> +The Marchesa only replied by ringing the bell and summoning her +footman. +</p> + +<p> +“Show this man out,” she said, “and take care that he is never +admitted again. He is an impostor, and he has insulted me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come! along with you!” cried the servant, as he hustled Joe from the +room. “I’ll take good care you never shows your nose inside of our +’ouse again!” +</p> + +<p> +And so Joe Brushwood found himself upon the doorstep in shorter time +than it takes to write the words. +</p> + +<p> +The Marchesa joined her husband in the drawing-room, triumphant. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! what had he to say to you?” demanded the Baron, as she entered. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing! It was all a hoax! No more Joseph Brushwood—whoever he may +be—than you are! A fellow with a begging letter, and who became so +insolent when I refused to give him money, that I was obliged to ring +for Watson to show him the door!” +</p> + +<p> +“You were quite right to refuse,” said the Baron, “I hate these +begging letter writers. But how could he have got hold of the name of +Joseph Brushwood?” +</p> + +<p> +“Invented it, most likely!” replied Hannah, as she commenced to read +the evening papers. +</p> + +<p> +“But, my dear, that was the name of the young man you were engaged +to,” began Karl von Steinberg. “Surely, you must remember!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! I don’t, and I don’t want to,” persisted his wife, “I never think +of that horrible time! It is past now! I wish nothing better than to +blot out the memory that it ever existed.” +</p> + +<p> +She returned to the perusal of her paper, and her husband, after +regarding her for a few moments as if she were some extraordinary +animal whom he could not possibly understand—left the room quietly, +and went to his club. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch18"> +CHAPTER XVIII. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">Why</span> did Hannah pretend to have forgotten the fact that she had ever +known Joseph Brushwood? What was her motive in refusing the prayer of +her dying mother, to see her once again? Had her unexpected rise in +life and position really made her oblivious of all that had gone +before, or had her heart grown callous to the sufferings of her +fellow-creatures?” +</p> + +<p> +These were the questions that puzzled the brain of Karl von Steinberg, +as he walked meditatively down to his club that night. +</p> + +<p> +He had read the smeared epistle that Brushwood had sent in to his +wife, from beginning to end. There was no mistaking its import. It +stated plainly, that Mrs. Stubbs was in the last stage of +disease—that the husband and children were in want—and that they +only asked a little help from their rich daughter, to enable them to +tide over the difficulty. +</p> + +<p> +Why had not Hannah sent them money for their need? She knew that she +had but to ask him, to obtain any reasonable sum for the purpose. +</p> + +<p> +Karl von Steinberg had an affectionate nature—rather weak indeed, but +gentle and kind-hearted. He could not bear to think that his wife had +been wilfully guilty of such negligence and indifference. When he +reached his club, he drew four five-pound banknotes from his purse, +and putting them into an envelope, addressed it to Mr. Stubbs, +Settlefield and wrote the pardonable fiction inside, “With Hannah’s +love.” +</p> + +<p> +The reception of this munificent gift made a great revolution of +feeling in the Stubbs’ family, whither Joe Brushwood had preceded it, +with an exaggerated account of his interview with Hannah. +</p> + +<p> +“I sent in my note, quite respectful,” he had told them on his return, +“and thought if I didn’t get a ’earty welcome, she’d at least talk +friendly-like about ’er people! But not a bit of it! In she sails in a +gownd like a peacock, trailing on the floor, and ‘What may be your +business with me, young man?’ she says, as proud as a cat with a tin +tail. ‘Lor! Hannah!’ I says, and she turns on me like a tiger, ‘Oo are +you a’speakin’ to?’ she says, ‘and you’ll please to say “my Lady” when +you opens your mouth in my presence?’ I did feel pretty well shut up, +I can tell you!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Stubbs, who was sitting in an arm-chair, supported by pillows, +looked incredulous at this account. +</p> + +<p> +“Lor! Joe Brushwood,” she said, “it couldn’t never ’ave been our +Hannah! You must ’ave gone to the wrong ’ouse!” +</p> + +<p> +At this surmise, Joe himself turned pale. +</p> + +<p> +“O! that’s unpossible!” he exclaimed, “for ’twas Mrs. Battleby as give +me the address. Baron von Stumbug, 2000 Portland Place. I writ it down +in my pocket book. And I arsked for Lady von Stumbug, and the feller +as answered the door, understood me quite well. Sich a grand ’ouse, +Mrs. Stubbs, as you never see—all marble and picters and +statties,—and Hannah in a yaller satin gownd, with black lace like +cobwebs over it, and ’er ’air—well! you did ought to ’ave seen ’er +’air—’twas a transformation scene and no mistake!” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t care nothing about ’er ’air,” replied Mrs. Stubbs, “but I +can’t never believe as our Hannah, as was so meek and simple-like, +would denige ’er own father and mother! You must ’ave mistook ’er +words! I allers said as father ought to ’ave gone, instead of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t mistake nothing,” said Joe, doggedly, “she’s just as cold +and ’eartless as they’re made, and I’m werry glad as she never was my +missus. She stood there, a’glaring at me, and she says, ‘I ain’t got +no father nor mother,’ she says, ‘and you’re a himpostor,’ and she +just rings the bell and orders the feller in green to put me out of +the ’ouse, and mind I never enters it again. That’s your Hannah, and +that’s gospel truth!” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t never believe it!” repeated poor Mrs. Stubbs, “she was allays +so humble, was our Hannah! I take blame to myself as I ever left ’er +at Mrs. Battleby’s, pore gal, and with all them devils about ’er too. +I did ought to ’ave brought ’er ’ome, and exercised them out of ’er! +But to speak in that rumptious manner! No! I can’t never believe it! +She was sich a simple one, was our Hannah—allays ready to cry if +spoke to, almost a natural as you may say, but never ’aughty or proud. +You went to the wrong ’ouse, Joe Brushwood! I’ll maintain it to the +last day of my life, which it won’t be long!” she added, with a sigh. +</p> + +<p> +“O! well! Missus,” exclaimed Joe, rather nettled, “I ’opes as Mr. +Stubbs will do ’is own work another time, for ’twasn’t a pleasant job, +I can tell ye. To ’ave to encounter a young ’ooman as you’ve rejected +in marriage, and ’ear all the nasty things she may choose to say to +you, ain’t all jam, I’d rather meet the old gentleman myself any day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! you could ’ardly expect ’er to shake you by the ’and, and she a +markiness and a baroness both in one, Joe Brushwood! You was a fool to +reject ’er, that you was, and to lose the chance of being a baron +yourself! Of course I know as ’er position and fortune ’ave set ’er +above us, but I’ll never believe but what my Hannah—as was so good +’earted and simple, though a bit slow—Lord! ’ow my arms ’ave ached +trying to shake that gal up!—remembers ’er pore father and mother, +who never fell out with ’er, until she took up with the Devil and hall +’is imps!” +</p> + +<p> +Joe Brushwood had left the cottage, grumbling at their incredulity and +ingratitude, but the next day made him regret he had said so much. The +postman brought Stubbs that wonderful letter, enclosing twenty pounds, +with Hannah’s love. The poor mother, who was really in the last stage +of an internal disease, against which she had borne up bravely, until +no longer able to stand, wept tears of thankfulness over her +daughter’s generosity, and quite forgot that she had been so sure that +Joe had gone to the wrong house. +</p> + +<p> +That young man was so beset with reproaches, when he next showed his +face in their midst, that he fled incontinently from the cottage, and +left the Stubbs’ family to manage their own affairs for the future. +And they—relieved from present necessity—sat down quite contented +with spending their twenty pounds and talking of their daughter, the +markiness, to any neighbour who might chance to look in. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, the Baron, puzzled and grieved as the days went on, to see +no sign of repentance in Hannah, for the cruel part she had played +with regard to her family, began to frequent his club more often than +before. His wife had not yet quite lost her old fascination for +him—it was misery to him to believe her cold-hearted and unfilial. +</p> + +<p> +He never asked her to sit with him now—had almost given up talking of +Spiritualism before her. Slight suspicions had crept into his mind of +late, that the office of mediumship had not improved Hannah, in mind +or manners—that she was more defiant and bold, and less grateful and +submissive, than she used to be. Success in life could not alone have +had the power to change her character thus, and he hoped by keeping +her quiet and free from all these trances and controls, to see her one +day return to the amiable and child-like disposition she had enjoyed. +</p> + +<p> +His longing to see his old friend Ricardo was very keen, and if he +could have found another medium through whom to communicate with him, +he would have gladly availed himself of the opportunity. But he was +unable to do so, and he would not urge Hannah to sit for him. +Sometimes the longing was very great—sometimes he felt sure that +Ricardo shared his anxiety and wished to speak to him. +</p> + +<p> +More than once, as his wife slumbered by his side, he had fancied he +heard a faint, gasping whisper on the air, in the tones of his old +friend. But it had never culminated beyond that, and Hannah’s +objection to holding a séance with him was so palpably expressed, +that he did not care to urge her to do that which was unpalatable to +her. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, at this time, her arguments against the practice of +Spiritualism both in public and private, were so severe, that Von +Steinberg honestly believed she had come to look upon it as something +unlawful and forbidden. But his eyes were to be opened, and in a +manner he little suspected. +</p> + +<p> +On a certain afternoon, in summer, he was seated at his club in one of +those deep arm-chairs with a high back, which, when turned from the +company, entirely conceal their occupant. The day was warm, and the +Baron had lunched and felt sleepy. He wheeled his chair into a corner +of the club room, and turning its back to the centre of the apartment, +prepared to indulge in a snooze. Men entered and left—the buzz of +voices went on around him, but still he dozed—half awake and half +asleep—too lazy to shake himself into complete consciousness. +</p> + +<p> +By and by his first irresistible desire to slumber wore off, and he +sat there, listening to what went on around him. Whilst in this +condition he heard two men conversing together a few paces off, and +soon recognised one voice as that of Major Maitland, who was a +frequent visitor in Portland Place. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot understand what they see in her—a beastly, fat woman,” he +was saying, “and as vulgar as she can be! But she has got up this new +fad of Spiritualism, and the women are all crazy about it—my wife +amongst the rest. She professes to bring back their lovers and +children and fathers and mothers, and there they all are, weeping and +snivelling together, and swearing she is the grandest medium under the +sun, and the most marvellous woman they have ever seen. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe it is all humbug! She dresses up her housemaids and footmen +to represent the dear departeds, and women are such hysterical +creatures, they will declare they see anything which you may tell them +is there! I have forbidden Mrs. Maitland visiting her, but it is of no +use! I don’t really know what has come to the women nowadays! They +treat us, as if we were nobody! She’s off this very afternoon to some +big séance that this Marchesa is giving!” +</p> + +<p> +“But who <i>is</i> she?” demanded the other speaker, “Marchesa—of what?” +</p> + +<p> +“The Lord knows! <i>I</i> don’t! She calls herself Marchesa di Sorrento, +but who Sorrento was, she knows best. She is the wife—or is supposed +to be—of a German, the Baron von Steinberg, who is really a very +decent fellow, for a German—and he seems to let her do just as she +likes! Finds it’s of no use speaking to her, I suppose, poor devil! +Where he picked her up I can’t think! If you could only see her, +Durant! She looks exactly like a cookmaid. A great, red, flat face +with a turned-up nose, and a wide mouth! No more a lady than you are, +but she is the women’s new plaything, and they howl if you try to take +her from them.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is all very strange,” said Durant, “are you going to the séance +this afternoon?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! I’m black-balled, because I struck a match the last time I was +there! I’m rather sorry. It was good fun, and really the most curious +things happen. I’ve seen an old man appear there, looking just like +one of Velasquez’s portraits—with a pointed Venetian beard, and +grizzled hair—not a bit like an Englishman—and, each time, he has +asked for Von Steinberg—that’s the husband, you know—but I suppose +my lady doesn’t let him hear of her little pranks, for I have never +met him there!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I suppose you <i>do</i> believe something of this black art, +Maitland. An Italian out of an old picture could hardly be +impersonated by a footman, or a housemaid!” observed his companion. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear fellow! to tell you the honest truth, I don’t know <i>what</i> to +believe! There may be something in it and there may not! All I know +is, that women have grown so deuced clever in these days, that I think +they are capable of anything—especially of deceit!” +</p> + +<p> +Karl von Steinberg thought the same, as he lay back in his arm-chair, +and listened to this conversation. Another man might have sprung up in +a rage, and challenged the two gossips to prove what they asserted, +but his was a phlegmatic temperament, which thought more than it said, +and did more than it threatened. The day was over, when either Major +Maitland or his wife would gain admittance to the house in Portland +Place, but he did not tell them so. +</p> + +<p> +On the contrary, he waited patiently until the two friends had +adjourned to the billiard room, before he left his hiding-place, and +hailing a cab, drove to his home. +</p> + +<p> +His reflections on the way were not pleasant ones. Hannah, then, had +deceived him! Whilst she had been denouncing Spiritualism, and +declaring it was sinful and she would never have anything more to do +with it, she had been giving séances to strangers, which she denied +to himself. +</p> + +<p> +He had no idea why this should be so, but he determined it should be +so no more. He would demand to participate in that which she showered +lavishly upon her acquaintances. Before he reached his house, he had +determined on his action. +</p> + +<p> +The séance would have commenced, doubtless, and the boudoir door +would be locked. But he had a second key to the bedroom, which opened +from the boudoir, and he could let himself into the house with his +latchkey, without anyone being the wiser for it. +</p> + +<p> +He used the greatest caution as he did so, and crept upstairs without +meeting anyone on the way. As he entered the bedroom and turned the +key behind him, he heard that the séance in the next apartment, which +was in total darkness, had already commenced. +</p> + +<p> +Murmurings of low voices—sundry questions from the sitters—and +occasionally a half-stifled sob—told him that his anticipations were +correct. +</p> + +<p> +Cautiously approaching the intervening door, which was ajar, Von +Steinberg joined the circle, without his entrance being perceived by +any one. One lady asked another if she had moved from her seat, and +being answered in the negative, declared that the spirits must be +walking about the room, but no further notice was taken of his +arrival. He stood aloof from the company, and observed all that was +taking place. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah had evidently had regular preparations made for this assembly, +for a proper cabinet was erected in one corner, and the windows were +covered with some black material to exclude every ray of light. +</p> + +<p> +“How unkind to take all this trouble for mere strangers, and to refuse +my making one of the party,” thought Karl von Steinberg, sadly, as he +stood quietly in his corner. “How could my seeing dear old Ricardo +again, do her any harm? If <i>she</i> did not love him, she knows that <i>I</i> +did! This is the worst proof that Hannah has ever given me, of her +ingratitude for all I have done for her.” +</p> + +<p> +But though his meditations were gloomy, the Baron was yet alive to all +that was passing before him. He saw Lady Loreley’s little daughter +appear between the velvet curtains that formed the cabinet, and heard +her mother’s grateful thanks for having been accorded such a +privilege—he watched Mrs. Maitland embrace the apparition of her +brother, who had been lost at sea, and heard her comment on the fact +that she could recognise the very clothes he wore. +</p> + +<p> +Hannah’s powers had evidently not decreased from want of practice. +What a wonderful, marvellous medium she was! All his old astonishment +at her powers—and all his old enthusiasm for the occult Sciences, +came back to Von Steinberg, as he stood and watched and listened. +</p> + +<p> +There appeared to be no end to the forms that peeped from between the +cabinet curtains, or advanced, more bravely, into the centre of the +room. Young men and young women—little children and hoary-headed +fathers and mothers—even a negro boy, whom the sitters addressed by +the name of Cicero, came, grinning from ear to ear, before them. What +a gift she possessed! What a power to set her above the ordinary run +of women! In that moment, Karl von Steinberg felt proud again to +remember that she was his—that no one could take her from him—that +Hannah was his wife, and his medium for ever more. +</p> + +<p> +Presently his attention was arrested by a murmur amongst the sitters. +A luminous mist appeared at the entrance of the cabinet, and some one +whispered, “It is the old man again!” +</p> + +<p> +Karl von Steinberg stretched his neck forward and strained his eyes to +see the visitant from the other world. It was undoubtedly the form and +face of Ricardo—his familiar features, shrunken and yellow, as they +looked in death, appeared before him. Von Steinberg gave a start of +surprise—an exclamation of pleasure—and went up to the curtains. +</p> + +<p> +“Ricardo! Ricardo! my dear old friend,” he exclaimed, “how +delighted—how thankful—I am to see you again!” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you see me? Do you recognise me? Am I like myself?” demanded the +apparition. +</p> + +<p> +“Just like! Exactly as I saw you last, dear old fellow!” replied the +Baron, warmly. “I have longed to see you again—to hear if you +entirely approve of what I have done, since you left us!” +</p> + +<p> +The form held the curtains apart and beckoned to the Baron to +accompany it inside the cabinet. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you wish me to go inside there with you?” exclaimed Von Steinberg. +“Why, of course I will, dear friend! I consider it an honour that you +should ask me.” +</p> + +<p> +He passed within the velvet curtains as he spoke, and the sitters +questioned each other who he was, and how he had got in there. +</p> + +<p> +“I never saw him when we entered the room,” said one lady to another, +“I wonder if the Marchesa knows he is here!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! she must! He would not have presumed to come without an +invitation. I just caught a glimpse of his features as he entered the +cabinet, by the old man’s spirit light, and I fancied he was very much +like the Baron himself!” +</p> + +<p> +“But I thought the Baron never came to the Marchesa’s séances. Does +she not say that he disapproves of Spiritualism?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! I would not be sure—I may be mistaken—but he is a man of much +the same build. Why! there is Cicero! But where can the gentleman be? +I hope the spirits have not carried him away!” +</p> + +<p> +They proceeded to amuse themselves with Cicero, who was one of those +influences who seem sent on this earth simply to prove that they can +come, and whilst they were pulling his woolly hair, and putting their +fingers into his mouth, to see if he had any teeth, a hollow groan +from the cabinet was succeeded by the sudden reappearance of the +unknown gentleman, who, passing rapidly through their midst, vanished +into the bedroom, and let himself out by the further door. His +unaccountable exit left a sort of gloom and distrust behind it, which +seemed to have a discouraging effect upon the spirits, for none else +appeared that afternoon. +</p> + +<p> +The sitters after waiting for half an hour in silence, resolved that +they had better separate, and rising, created a little disturbance, +which served to bring the medium to herself. She gave three or four +extensive yawns—opened her eyes—closed them again—and finally, +leaving her seat, walked out into the assembly, and asked, +</p> + +<p> +“Well! have you had a good séance?” +</p> + +<p> +Everybody was vehement in their assertions that nothing could have +been more successful or delightful, until Lady Loreley said, +</p> + +<p> +“Except for one poor gentleman, whom the spirits took into the +cabinet, and what they said to him there we do not know, but as soon +as he emerged again, he left the room, and has not returned since.” +</p> + +<p> +“But <i>what</i> gentleman?” asked the Marchesa, “I think all whom I +invited are present!” +</p> + +<p> +“We do not know! None of us have seen him before! It was dark when he +joined the circle, or I should have said he was the Baron. He was very +like him in shape and build!” +</p> + +<p> +“And which Spirit took him into the cabinet?” demanded Hannah, +breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +“O! the old man who has come so often, and asked for the Baron! We +have told you about him, dear Marchesa! An old man with grey hair, and +piercing eyes, and a pointed beard like Vandyke’s. A nice face, he +has, but very attenuated. He reminds me of that figure in Madame +Tussaud’s, of some old man who was starved to death in the Bastille!” +</p> + +<p> +“But what does he say?” said the Marchesa, who seemed strangely +agitated. +</p> + +<p> +“O! he has never said anything until this afternoon—only looked round +the circle as if in search of somebody, and called ‘Karl’ once or +twice.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is the Baron’s name, ‘Karl’, Marchesa? Anyway, the gentleman who +joined our circle in the dark to-day, was evidently the person the +Spirit was in search of, for directly he appeared, he beckoned to him +to approach the cabinet. The stranger called the Spirit, ‘Ricardo’—I +heard him more than once—and said how glad he was to meet him again, +and then the old man drew him into the cabinet and they were talking +there for more than ten minutes. Not entirely on pleasant subjects +either, I imagine, for we heard the gentleman groan several times, and +as soon as he emerged, he went straight through your bedroom, and we +have not seen him since. Could it have been the Baron, do you think, +Marchesa?” +</p> + +<p> +But the Marchesa stood before her, trembling. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! yes! no doubt,” she contrived at last to utter; “who else could +have passed through my bedroom? The Baron has a private key to my +apartments. What a fool I was not to think of it!” she added to +herself. +</p> + +<p> +“And was ‘Ricardo’ an old friend of yours?” persisted the lady. +</p> + +<p> +“He was a great friend of the Baron’s,” replied her hostess, whilst a +pallid hue stole over her features; “they often talk together! I am +surprised to hear that my husband seemed nervous! He is too well used +to spiritualism for that, though, as a rule, he does not approve of +it. What could Ricardo have said to him, to overcome him as you say?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! that we cannot tell you, dear Marchesa, but if you had heard him +groan! I only hope it was not the Baron. But you look quite +tired—much more wearied than usual, so perhaps we had better leave +you to rest! Good-bye! Such a delightful afternoon!” +</p> + +<p> +<i>Such a delightful afternoon!</i> It looked like it, as Hannah stood in +her bedroom free and alone, and reviewed the events of the day. +Ricardo and Von Steinberg had met again at last. Notwithstanding her +caution and her secrecy, they had met, face to face, and conversed +with one another. What had they said?—what revealed?—what had her +husband heard about her Past or Present? She stood there, sick with +apprehension, until she heard a footstep approach her door, and felt +that her hour had come. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch19"> +CHAPTER XIX. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">When</span> Karl von Steinberg rushed from the séance room, it was with +the intention of seeking the open air. He felt as if he should be +stifled in the atmosphere of his wife’s boudoir—as if he could not +breathe in that dark and airless chamber, so fraught with treachery, +deceit, and crime. +</p> + +<p> +He wanted to get out under God’s pure Heaven, to walk miles and miles +into the open country, and never go back to Portland Place again. But +when he reached the hall door, he encountered a long line of +carriages, drawn up in waiting for the aristocratic sitters, and he +feared lest the traces of what he was undergoing might be visible on +his features, and that he should betray himself before their servants. +So he turned back and sought his private sitting-room instead, and sat +down there, with his head buried in his hands, and tried to think. +</p> + +<p> +What was this horrible thing that he had listened to?—could it +possibly be true? or had he been made the sport of some devil, who had +assumed the shape and features of his dear old friend? +</p> + +<p> +But this idea, worthy only of such as have no knowledge of +Spiritualism, was soon routed from his mind by reason. He <i>knew</i> that +it was Ricardo himself, who had spoken to him—Ricardo, with his +delicate aquiline features—his piercing eyes, overshadowed by bushy +brows—his sensitive mouth, and pointed beard and moustaches. +</p> + +<p> +If a devil could assume his every attribute in the séance chamber, +then Von Steinberg might well doubt if the next acquaintance he met in +the street were truly himself, or a devil in his guise. +</p> + +<p> +This apparition of his best friend had come again and again (as he had +heard on the testimony of strangers), and called his name, that he +might confide to him the awful story which was stirring his being to +its depths. He had told it to him—not for his own sake, the wrong was +over, for him—but lest Von Steinberg should fall into the same net in +which he had been caught. But could it—could it—<i>could it be true?</i> +</p> + +<p> +Von Steinberg glanced round at the evidences of luxury which +surrounded him—the soft Persian carpet—the carved furniture—the +valuable paintings—the Venetian glass—and wondered what <i>more</i> he +could have bestowed upon this woman, whom he first thought of +befriending for Ricardo’s sake—Ricardo, who she had sent into +Eternity! +</p> + +<p> +It was not so much the horror of his friend’s death that oppressed +him—those who are convinced that the dead still live, come to look +very calmly on the separation, which more ignorant mortals regard with +fear—but the contemplated horror of living on with the woman who had +betrayed him! <i>That</i> he felt to be impossible! +</p> + +<p> +He could never again take Hannah in his arms and call her “wife”, +whilst the spirit of Ricardo stood between them and hurled another +name at her. What should he do? What was to be his next step? How were +matters to be arranged for the future? He wished at that moment that +he were a medium himself, and had the power to call back the spirit of +Ricardo, and ask his advice about it all. +</p> + +<p> +After he had brooded over the terrible affair for some time, Von +Steinberg began to question whether, after all, he might not be +mistaken, or that Ricardo might have been so! He knew that spirits on +their first appearance after death, were often confused and but half +conscious—could not remember names or dates—nor recognise those to +whom they had been dear! But yet he had never heard of anyone making +a mistake on so important a subject as this. +</p> + +<p> +Then, for his own doubts concerning it. He threw his thoughts back to +that time, just before Ricardo’s death, when Hannah had begun to +coquet with him, and he had been foolish and dishonourable enough to +meet her advances half-way—to the quarrels she had with her +husband—to Ricardo’s assurance to him that she made his life a hell, +and he could stand it no longer—to his hints about taking his +life—to his (Von Steinberg’s) cautions to Hannah on the same +subject—and then, to his friend’s sudden demise, to that awful night +when he was called to the Cottage and found the Professor, dead—by +his own hand as he then fully thought—and the subsequent decision he +had arrived at, partly because he believed it to be a duty on his +part. +</p> + +<p> +But now, in a moment, the truth seemed to flash upon him, and he +wondered that he had been so blind as not to see it from the +beginning. Hannah had been discontented and repining from the time he +had come into his uncle’s property—she had coveted it—his own folly +had encouraged her to think she could gain it—Ricardo was the +obstacle, and so——Von Steinberg groaned within himself as he thought +these things, and that his dearest friend had paid the forfeit of his +own good fortune. +</p> + +<p> +But it must be put an end to at once—his suspicions must be allayed, +or turned into certainties—he would not sleep one night under the +same roof as Ricardo’s murderess—there must be a separation between +them, now and for ever. +</p> + +<p> +The house was again quiet, the guests had all departed, and Von +Steinberg took his way up to his wife’s room. He thought that Hannah +knew nothing of what had occurred, so he resolved not to be too +violent, but to extract the truth from her by degrees. He found her +standing by the side of her sumptuous bed, with its hangings of rich +brocade, looking rather white and weary, but with a sparkle of +determination in her eye, as if she guessed what was coming and had +her weapons ready. Von Steinberg for his part appeared completely +crushed—the revelation of the last hour had knocked all his manhood +out of him. +</p> + +<p> +“Well!” began Hannah, abruptly, “and what may you want here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have come expressly to see you, Hannah! I wish to speak to you! Why +did you not tell me that you were giving these séances?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I do not acknowledge that it is any business of yours,” she +answered carelessly, “they are my own concern altogether!” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps! but as I have asked you frequently to give me a sitting, and +you have systematically refused, it is strange that you should leave +me to hear that you are constantly holding these meetings, from a +stranger at my club.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes?” said Hannah, nonchalantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! and I know the reason of your reticence now, into the bargain,” +replied the Baron angrily. “Are you aware <i>who</i> came back through you +this afternoon, and held converse with me?—<i>who</i> told the story of +his death and why he had left this world so suddenly—<i>who</i> has asked +for me again and again, in order to tell me the truth, but whom you +have kept away because you were afraid of what revelations he might +make?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not in the least,” said Hannah, insolently, though her face had +become very fixed during her husband’s questions. +</p> + +<p> +“You are lying to me—you <i>do!</i>” exclaimed the Baron, “I should have +gone on for the rest of my life, poor fool that I am! fancying that +you had come to regard the practice of Spiritualism as wrong and +harmful, and refraining from asking you to act contrary to your +principles, had it not been for the idle tongues of two men in the +club this afternoon, who were discussing these séances of yours +without knowing that I was within hearing. Though I could hardly +believe my ears, I returned home to find they were correct in what +they had said—and when I joined your circle, Ricardo came back to +me—Ricardo, your late husband and my dearest friend—Ricardo, whom +you——” +</p> + +<p> +“Be careful what you say,” interposed his wife, “if you make +accusations against me, which you have no means of proving, I will +have satisfaction from you in a court of law. Professor Ricardo died +from the effects of poison, administered by his own hand—that was the +certificate of death I believe, written by yourself. What will people +say, if you deny it now?” +</p> + +<p> +The Baron was staggered by her coolness and perspicuity! It was true; +he had no proofs to bring forward of his assertion. +</p> + +<p> +“I would believe the word of my dead friend before the evidence of my +own senses,” he replied, less vehemently. “Ricardo was too good to you +during his lifetime to bring a false and unnecessary accusation +against you now! I may never be able to prove it, but I am as +convinced of the truth as if I had seen it done, and I will never live +with you again—so help me God!” +</p> + +<p> +Still Hannah was perfectly unmoved. +</p> + +<p> +“That is of little consequence to me,” she answered; “so long as you +make me a suitable allowance. But you will be forced to do that! I +will not consent to a separation, unless it is legally settled by +law!” +</p> + +<p> +Karl von Steinberg gazed at her in silent amazement. Was she +bewitched? +</p> + +<p> +“What has come to you in the last few months?” he said, “you are not +the same woman that you used to be!” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know what sort of woman I used to be?” she asked him, +quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“I mean, when we first met you—poor Ricardo and I—at Mrs. +Battleby’s. You were modest and humble then—shy and retiring—you +were an amiable, good-humoured girl, only anxious to please and +oblige! Now—my God! what a difference!—I should never have known you +for Hannah Stubbs!” +</p> + +<p> +“Who is Hannah Stubbs?” demanded the Marchesa. +</p> + +<p> +“Enough of this folly,” exclaimed Von Steinberg, angrily, “don’t +pretend to misunderstand me! You have altered in every respect! I have +raised you to a position above that to which you were born, and your +head has been unable to stand the elevation. You have become vain, +haughty, arrogant, and insolent! Yet I could have borne all that and +only cursed my own folly for it, but this crime—no! no! I can never +live under the same roof with you again. We part to-night!” +</p> + +<p> +“That is as you please!” cried the Marchesa, shrilly, “it will leave +me freer and more independent! I shall have more opportunities of +seeing Signor Gueglielmo, and my other friends!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! by my faith you won’t!” exclaimed the Baron. “If the man ever +enters this house after I am gone, I will drag you and him into the +Divorce Court, and let my misery end there!” +</p> + +<p> +“That is to be seen,” remarked the Marchesa. +</p> + +<p> +“You defy me!” cried Von Steinberg, “<i>you</i>—who murdered my best +friend! Yes! we need not mince words here, Madame la Marchesa, the +time is past for that! Ricardo told me all—how you purchased the +arsenic (which I was fool enough to believe the poor fellow had +procured himself)—at the Hampstead chemist’s, under the pretence you +wanted it for vermin—and how you mixed it with the whiskey and water +which you persuaded him to drink because you said <i>I</i> had ordered it! +You think you are so secure that you can defy and insult me! What if I +looked up that chemist and examined his books, and proved the date you +bought the poison from him to be that of your husband’s death? What +then, Madame la Marchesa?” +</p> + +<p> +He had sprung forward as he spoke, and approached her so nearly that +the woman felt alarmed, but still her native insolence upheld her. +</p> + +<p> +“What then?” she echoed. “Why! I would force you to declare that you +gained your information through Spiritualism, and make you the +laughing-stock of London. How would Spiritualistic detectives accord +with the English law, Baron von Steinberg, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“But you would leave the Court with an indelible stain upon your +character, and where would your friends be then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should go to Signor Gueglielmo, and in his beautiful Italy I should +soon forget that I had ever inhabited such a cold, gloomy, unsociable +country as this!” +</p> + +<p> +“Signor Gueglielmo! You acknowledge he is your lover then?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>One</i> of them!” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“Good Heavens! That I should have lived to hear you accuse yourself of +such baseness! Are you a woman, or a devil? Are you yourself, Hannah, +or does some evil spirit possess you, and obscure the humble virtues +you once had?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think women are all fools?” she retorted, turning on him +fiercely, “are you men to take your pleasures as you will, and we to +be debarred from any? Why should I not have lovers. I am young and +beautiful.” +</p> + +<p> +In saying these words, the Marchesa assumed such a coquettish air, +that solemn though the occasion was, Von Steinberg almost laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“And the men admire me! Is all my youth to be wasted in prudery and +pretending I do not enjoy that which is the breath of my life—the +admiration of the other sex? O! you needn’t glare at me like that! You +need not attempt to strike me! I am well provided against your +assaults! And you are not the only one who has suffered through my +being <i>femme galante!</i> Sorrento writhed under the knowledge more than +you do, and he tried to avenge himself on me, but you see it was +useless! He believed me to be a model of all the virtues, to the day +of his death—perhaps even now he does the same. But you men are all +alike. Fools where you should be wise, and blind where you ought to +see! Sorrento smiled when he should have been weeping, and struck when +there was no cause. Do you remember the story of Centi?” +</p> + +<p> +“The man for whose sake Leonora deceived poor Ricardo! Yes! I see now, +he was right! You women are all alike! Born to lie and to deceive +those who trust in you! He did well to send her out of a world which +she disgraced.” +</p> + +<p> +At this assertion, Hannah laughed jeeringly. +</p> + +<p> +“O! she was none the worse for it, you may depend! When earthly lives +are cut shorter than the Creator intended, either by our own hands, or +those of others, they are not ended, though mortals may think so! We +all live on this earth just as long as was originally meant for +us—neither more nor less—in the flesh or out of it—but still +here,—sometimes for our own punishment, sometimes for that of others, +but still here,—<i>here</i>—where you and I stand to-day. Don’t waste +your pity on Leonora, for she does not need it!” +</p> + +<p> +“You defend her action—doubtless you sympathise with her crime,” said +the Baron, sarcastically. “Perhaps you would wish to copy her example, +that is, if you have not already done so!” +</p> + +<p> +“You are right,” replied the Marchesa, “I sympathise with her deeply. +She was young and beautiful and admired, and she loved life, and she +hadn’t fair play. You think with me, surely, that Sorrento did her a +grievous and irreparable wrong, in sending her so abruptly and cruelly +from a world she loved!” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not! I think that she was rightly served for her infidelity, and +that she paid too little for her crimes. Her husband only took his +just revenge. Such women are better out of the world than in it!” +</p> + +<p> +“So that is your opinion,” said the Marchesa, looking him straight in +the eyes, “what then of the way he met his own death? Was <i>that</i> not a +just revenge also? a righteous retribution for the way he treated +Leonora? Was I not justified (who met my death at his hands) in +sending him also into another world, when it suited my convenience, +and he interfered with my plans?” +</p> + +<p> +“You—<i>you?</i>” stammered the Baron, falling back a pace or two. A light +broke in upon him—a light which seemed to make both the Past and +Present clear—which absolved the innocent and condemned the guilty. +</p> + +<p> +“You are <i>not</i> Hannah Stubbs!” he exclaimed vehemently, as he sprang +towards her, “I see it all now! You are a devil in human form, who has +been traducing by your actions, one of the most simple and humble of +God’s creatures! You are not <i>Hannah Stubbs</i>—it is but her carcase +that you inhabit! You are Leonora d’Asissi! the false wife of the +Marchese di Sorrento!” +</p> + +<p> +The face of the Marchesa seemed to change to that of a fiend as he +thus accused her—she drew herself up to her full height—her eyes +blazed fury—her arm was raised as if to strike. But she braved the +accusation out, returning it in full force upon herself. +</p> + +<p> +“Go on! go on!” she cried, “you cannot say too much, nor yet enough to +harm me! I am all you say, Leonora d’Asissi, the false wife of your +dear friend—false to him, not with Centi only, but with everyone who +caught my wandering fancy. He believed every word I chose to tell him, +poor craven fool! who had the courage to avenge his wrongs, but not to +rest satisfied with his victory. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! I am Leonora d’Asissi, in the ugly, uncouth form of Hannah +Stubbs, but I have made her mine, and I will use her to the end—until +it pleases me to give her up of my own free will! You may claim this +rough body if you choose, but you must take my spirit with it. I will +possess it and animate it with my words and graces, and make it copy +my faults, and hate as I hated and love as I loved, until it ceases to +exist. Have I not shown my power over it already? Who but <i>I</i> prompted +her to poison Sorrento? to coquette with Gueglielmo? to defy you? to +trick? to lie? to deceive? Who but I—I—I? and I will continue to +make her follow my will, until she ceases to breathe!” +</p> + +<p> +“You shall not! I defy you in my turn,” exclaimed Von Steinberg, “this +country girl, uncouth and plain as she may be, is worth a thousand +such as you, with all your wit and beauty, and devilish fascinations. +She is my wife—I have promised to defend and protect her, and I will +drive your hateful spirit from her body, if I have to set hers free, +in order to accomplish it? By what right do you cling to a creature, +who is so much your superior? In the name of the Holy Trinity, I +command you to depart!” +</p> + +<p> +Leonora laughed scornfully. +</p> + +<p> +“And who gave me possession but yourself—you, and your dear friend +Ricardo? How could I have obtained such powerful hold of her if you +had not used this girl as an instrument to satisfy your curiosity +concerning the mysteries of Spiritualism?—if you had not made her +sit, night after night, to minister to your pleasure, until her brain +and body were both so wearied, that it was an easy matter for me, or +any other who had chosen, to oust her spirit and take its place. I +obtained first possession and have kept it ever since.” +</p> + +<p> +“But to what end? What pleasure could it give you, wretched woman, to +add to your list of crimes, all of which you will have to expiate, +when you might have been advancing in grace and penitence? What object +had you in controlling this unfortunate child, who had never done you +a wrong, and making her odious by the execution of your unholy +wishes?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I am no longer able to commit crimes for myself—because the +execution gives me a reflected satisfaction—because, above all, my +thirst for revenge was ungratified, and I longed to make Sorrento feel +the same misery he had inflicted upon me! That is why I returned, not +to earth, for I have never left it, but to a human body, and if you +wish to know who helped me to it, it was <i>yourself</i>. Now! do you +understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! but, by God, you shall persecute my poor wife no longer!” +exclaimed Von Steinberg. “She is stupid and ignorant, but she shall +not suffer for your crimes. I suspected her of murdering Ricardo—he +thinks so even himself—but I will clear her from the imputation. You +shall inhabit her body no more, from this time henceforward! It is +uncouth, as you said, but it is too pure for such as you. Depart at +once, I command you, and come here no more!” +</p> + +<p> +“Command away!” cried Leonora, “it would take more than you to turn me +out of my lodging-house! I have got too firm a hold upon your pure and +unsophisticated wife! She didn’t seem so very pure, whilst she was +holding her secret assignations, unknown to you, with Gueglielmo, did +she? nor so unsophisticated when she gave séances to attract the +aristocracy to her house, and bound them to secrecy because <i>you</i> so +highly disapproved of such doings. She is a lovely tool, but I wish +myself that she were a little more refined. It is so difficult to +train her large, flat tongue to lisp the soft Italian syllables, or to +play the coquette with those enormous hands of hers and those +splay-feet. I have almost made myself a laughing stock sometimes, by +forgetting they were not my own, and putting them forth for public +admiration. +</p> + +<p> +“But still she is useful, poor Hannah—very useful at times—and I +have not the least intention of parting with her—not, at all events, +my friend, until you desert her for another woman! Are you not +surprised to hear me talk English so well? I learned most of that from +you, when you used to come to the Cottage at Hampstead to give me +lessons in etiquette, and sometimes in something else, eh, Baron? I +don’t think your very dear friend Ricardo would have trusted you alone +with his adored Leonora, had he known what a dangerous man you were!” +</p> + +<p> +Karl von Steinberg was almost frothing at the mouth with rage that he +knew no fit means of expressing. He felt like those unfortunates of +whom we have read, who were tied hand and foot, whilst those they +loved best were tortured before their eyes, and they had no power to +redress their wrongs. He longed to shake Leonora out of Hannah’s body, +but what force could he use against air? He covered his face with his +hands and gave vent to a groan, which seemed to rend his +heart-strings. The vicious Spirit reviled his discomfiture with a +mocking laugh of confidence. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right! Groan away! That’s what all you mortals do, when you +have committed the error and there is no remedy for it! Why didn’t you +think of the consequences, when you made Hannah sit for you and the +Professor, till she lost her spirits and her strength and her power to +resist? And now you have had enough of me, and would like to send me +flying! But you won’t! I’m in the body of your lawful wife, and if you +don’t choose to live with me, you must make me a suitable allowance. I +shan’t weep, I assure you. I shall much prefer it to your company! Bad +taste in me, is it not? but the truth all the same!” +</p> + +<p> +“Allowance! I would give my whole fortune to ensure this poor child +being set free from your evil influence. My God! the injury I have +done her! How can I know the extent of it, or if it will ever cease? +Poor ignorant Hannah! Heaven forgive us for bringing you within the +toils of such a devil as this!” +</p> + +<p> +Leonora flaunted by him, and essayed to pass through the open door. +But Von Steinberg prevented her. “No! by Heaven!” he cried, “if you +will not quit her body, I can at least prevent your dishonouring it! +If you <i>will</i> stay, you must, but you will remain a prisoner in one +room, and no eye shall witness your infamy and my disgrace.” +</p> + +<p> +He put forth his hand to detain her, but she rushed past him, to the +landing. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch20"> +CHAPTER XX. +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">The</span> landing upon which their sleeping chamber opened, was a spacious +platform, covered with a carpet of the softest dyes. It held a couple +of settees—a towering palm in a majolica vase—a bronze statue, +bearing a lamp—and a stand of flowering plants. Full, rich curtains +drawn at the head of the staircase, partially concealed it from the +public view, beyond which the marble stairs, supported by carved oak +banisters, led down to the hall. It was a nook, fitted to form a +boudoir in the warm weather, and was always heated in winter, like the +rest of the house, by hot water pipes. +</p> + +<p> +As the Marchesa rushed out upon this landing, the Baron, unable to +deter her action, followed as quickly as he could. He was fearful of +what she might do, or say. In her state of excitement, which bordered +on insanity, she might inform the entire household that she was not +the woman she appeared to be, and make them think she was a lunatic. +</p> + +<p> +It was with the best intentions, therefore, that he pursued her. +</p> + +<p> +“Leonora! Leonora!” he cried, “be careful! Come back, I entreat you, +and let us argue this matter together.” +</p> + +<p> +But the Marchesa ran to the head of the staircase, and defied him. +</p> + +<p> +“What do I care?” she cried, “let them all hear! Let them all come, +and I will tell them who <i>I</i> am, and what <i>you</i> are!” +</p> + +<p> +She gave a kind of shrill cry, half of triumph and half of despair, as +she concluded, and Von Steinberg already heard a bustle below stairs, +as if the servants had been attracted by the noise and were hastening +to the rescue. He advanced to her side and essayed to place his hand +upon her mouth. She drew a knife at once from her pocket—he could see +the flash of the blade as she grasped it in her hand. The instinct of +self-preservation made him push her from him—she retreated towards +the stairs and slipped on the yielding carpet, and before he could do +anything to save her, the great unwieldy body, unable to recover +itself, had rolled with a scream of terror, down to the very hall, +where it lay inert and unconscious, crushed into a mass of senseless +clay. +</p> + +<p> +As the Baron realised the accident that had occurred, all his +resentment was merged in compassion. He forgot the mocking evil spirit +that had so lately defied and insulted him, and remembered only that +here lay a suffering fellow-creature—a patient to be relieved. +</p> + +<p> +His medical skill rose paramount to every other consideration, and he +was at the foot of the stairs almost as soon as she was. Three or four +servants appeared upon the scene—all had heard the heavy fall and the +scream which had accompanied it. Karl von Steinberg turned the body +gently over—it was totally unconscious and the limbs fell limply from +it. He could not tell how much or how little she was injured—the +first thing to do was to carry her upstairs again to her room—the +next to dispatch a servant for the best surgeon in Town, to render his +professional assistance. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the body of Hannah lay crumpled up upon the bed, and had not +given a single sign of life. She was not dead, so far Von Steinberg +was able to ascertain, but if she would ever regain her consciousness, +he was unable to say. In a short time, he was joined by the famous +surgeon who had fortunately been disengaged, and between them they +undressed the poor mangled carcase, and ascertained the amount of +injury done to it. It was fearful. One thigh had to be set—two +ribs—the left arm—and an ankle. When the operations were completed, +Hannah lay like a swathed mummy in her bed, with her body broken in +all directions, and still unconscious. +</p> + +<p> +“Will she recover?” demanded her husband, “will she ever speak, or +open her eyes again? What is your opinion?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is hard to say, Baron! <i>You</i> should know the lady’s constitution +better than I can. She appears to have a powerful frame, if her +physical strength corresponds with it, I should think it probable that +she will regain her consciousness by and by—but as to recovery, I +really should not like to express an opinion. You see for yourself the +maimed condition she is in—all I can say is, that a cure is possible, +but not at all probable. How did this sad event occur?” +</p> + +<p> +“We were laughing and playing together on the landing,” replied Von +Steinberg, unwilling to disclose the real cause of the accident to a +stranger, “and the Marchesa went back towards the staircase and +overbalanced herself. I made a rush, with the hope of catching her, +but I was too late to prevent her falling. It is a terrible height, +and she lighted on the marble floor at the bottom, with her head under +her. I made sure at first, that she had broken her neck. I was going +to add, ‘Thank God, it is not so,’ but I really do not know which +would be worse!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! you must not be so despairing as all that!” replied the +other, “your wife may recover sufficiently to enjoy her life yet, and +if not—at all events you would like to say a few words to her before +she leaves you! Now, I will send you a good hospital nurse at +once—one quite experienced in these cases—and I shall look in again +before nightfall. You are, of course, perfectly competent to look +after the case yourself, but we all like to take counsel with our +friends on such occasions. For the present then, good-bye!” +</p> + +<p> +He left Von Steinberg sitting by the side of their patient, and he did +not stir thence until the nurse arrived. What strange thoughts coursed +through his mind, as he held that silent, solitary vigil! +</p> + +<p> +He looked at poor Hannah, bandaged from head to foot, with the deepest +compassion. Was this to be the end of it? Was she to pay for the +indulgence of other people’s curiosity, with her life? +</p> + +<p> +The poor girl looked twice as distasteful in her mutilated condition +than heretofore. Her dull, flat face had resumed its normal vacuous +expression, whilst the rosy colour had fled from her cheeks, to be +replaced by a livid, purplish hue. Her large, coarse hands lay outside +the coverlet, and were discoloured and bruised, whilst her beautiful +eyes—her sole point of attraction—were closed, and left her rugged +features without expression. +</p> + +<p> +Yet in Von Steinberg’s sight, she appeared more interesting now than +she had done for a long time past. He gently raised her swollen hand +and held it between his warm palms. How cold and heavy and sodden it +felt, almost as if she were already a corpse. The livid face did not +repulse him, as it had done when Leonora’s evil spirit animated it! It +awoke no feeling in his breast but pity for a young life so spoilt and +mis-used for the sake of others. He resolved that if she recovered he +would take her away to some place far from London, and the +inquisitiveness of strangers, and see if he could not contrive to let +her pass the remainder of her life in peace and quietness, as Hannah +Stubbs, ignorant and uncouth perhaps, but refreshingly simple and +pure, after the experience he had lately had with her. +</p> + +<p> +The time passed on, but the Baron still kept his place by the bedside. +The servants came up to announce that his dinner was ready, but he +declined to partake of it—the housekeeper begged her master to let +her take his place if only for a few minutes, but he shook his head +and told her to leave him to himself. The dusk deepened and they +offered him lights—he said he preferred to sit in the dark till the +nurse arrived. So the door was closed and he remained there by +himself, musing sadly on the events of the day. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly, when he had spent some fifteen or twenty minutes in these +reflections, not knowing how time went, he mechanically raised his +eyes, and perceived, standing at the foot of the bed, the most +beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her unbound hair, black as the +raven’s wing, fell in thick masses below her waist—her large luminous +eyes glowed like two fires—her white arms and hands were stretched +towards him—whilst her gaze was wistful and melancholy. He stared at +her in return, wondering who she could be, and whence she had come. +Gradually, as he was looking at her, and just about to speak, he saw +the melancholy look on her face change to a bewitching smile, the eyes +sparkled like diamonds, the features assumed an arch expression—she +changed from an angel to a devil—<i>it was Leonora!</i> Von Steinberg felt +murderous—had she been mortal, he would have killed her! +</p> + +<p> +“What are you here for?” he exclaimed. “Have you come to gloat over +your cruel work? Get out of my sight, I command you, and never dare to +trouble her or me again!” +</p> + +<p> +Leonora gave her mocking smile as answer. The Baron felt in despair. +“God Almighty!” he cried, clasping his hands and looking upwards, +“deliver me and mine from the power of this mocking devil!” +</p> + +<p> +As he pronounced the words, with all the fervour of which his soul was +capable, the Spirit gave a shriek, and flew like lightning down the +stairs. The sound was heard all over the house, and the housekeeper +appeared again to inquire if her ladyship had stirred. +</p> + +<p> +“No! Mrs. Marston,” replied the Baron, sorrowfully, “she lies in +exactly the same state. I am beginning to give up all hope!” +</p> + +<p> +“O! don’t say that, Baron! Whilst there’s life, you know, there’s +always hope! But who was it, then, that screamed just now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Screamed!” he echoed, “did you hear a scream?” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me, yes! we all heard it! I quite thought it was her ladyship +coming to!” +</p> + +<p> +“And did you meet anybody on the stairs?” asked Von Steinberg, with +interest. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Meet anybody!</i> why, no! Baron! they’re all of them below, and I have +given particular orders that they don’t stir, without my permission, +lest they should disturb her ladyship. But there’s the bell. I +shouldn’t wonder if that was the nurse! I’ll go and see!” +</p> + +<p> +It proved to be the nurse, and Mrs. Marston returned with her to the +bedroom. The new-comer regarded her patient in silence. It was not her +business to pass an opinion of any kind, but an acute observer might +have read from the expression of her eyes, that she had not much hope +of a favourable ending to the case. As soon as she had taken over +charge, Von Steinberg retired to his own room, leaving strict orders +that he was to be called, if there was the slightest change. +</p> + +<p> +His head was confused and dizzy—his heart alternately burning with +indignation and sorrow—he felt as if he was the greatest sinner that +had ever breathed. +</p> + +<p> +He could not rest, but spent the evening pacing up and down the room, +trying to think of some compensation for the unintentional wrong he +had done. The surgeon came at midnight, and pronounced that there was +no change in the Marchesa’s condition—gave a few directions to the +nurse—and promised to visit his patient again on the morrow. Von +Steinberg gave another look at the pale, uninteresting face that had +almost become dear to him—pressed the lifeless hand—and cautioned +the attendant to be sure and call him if necessary. +</p> + +<p> +At about four in the morning, she tapped at his door. +</p> + +<p> +“If you please, Baron, the lady has spoken, and seems to be looking +for some one, but I’m afraid she is not yet in her right mind—a +little light-headed, I mean, but you’d better come and see her.” +</p> + +<p> +Von Steinberg hurried on his clothes and hastened to Hannah’s bedside. +</p> + +<p> +Her eyes were open, and roving round the room in a strange, mystified +manner, but when she caught sight of the Baron, she recognised him at +once and gave a pitiful smile for welcome. +</p> + +<p> +“Lor! Doctor, ’ave they sent for you? I’m sure I dunno what ’ave come +to me, but I feels so bad—as if I was broke all over. Why did you +bring me ’ere? Be it a horspital? And do the Professor know? I should +like to see the Professor, Doctor, for I feel <i>that</i> bad, and ’e was +very good to me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Hush, Hannah! Hush! my dear!” said Von Steinberg, quickly, noting the +bewildered look of the nurse at hearing a Marchioness talk in so +uneducated a manner, “you shall hear everything when you are a little +stronger! Yes! you have met with a bad accident, my dear, and I am +afraid you will have to remain quiet for a few days, but you will get +all right, if you will be patient. Here is your nurse, who will pay +you every attention, and make you well as soon as she can, and I am +here, too, to look after you!” +</p> + +<p> +Hannah regarded him with the limp, stolid expression which he +remembered so well of old, as if she were trying to follow the sense +of what he said to her, without the capability of doing so. +</p> + +<p> +“But where’s the Professor—my ’usband, you know! I wants to see ’im, +’e may be vexed ’cos I said I would get ’im a nice little +supper—tasty, what he likes—and if I don’t get back in time, he +won’t ’ave none.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hannah! Ricardo cannot come to you just now! You must believe what I +tell you! Nurse! have you any beef-tea ready? Give her a teaspoonful +with a little brandy in it. She is growing faint.” +</p> + +<p> +“O! I haches all hover!” groaned poor Hannah, as the weak tears oozed +from her eyes with the pain she was enduring, “I shan’t be able to get +the Professor’s meals, not for days and days, and ’e <i>will</i> be sorry +when ’e ears I’m in the horspital. Was I run over, Doctor? I feels +like it! just as if a great cart wheel ’ad gone right hover me, and +crushed all my bones! O! it’s hagony!” +</p> + +<p> +“I know it must be, poor child, but we are doing all we can to relieve +you! Here! drink this!” said Von Steinberg, as he held the broth, into +which he had dropped some sedative, to her lips, and stood by her, +until she had dropped off into a moaning slumber. +</p> + +<p> +In the morning, after the surgeon’s examination, the Baron anticipated +his dictum. +</p> + +<p> +“You need not attempt to buoy me up with false hopes,” he said, “for I +can see the truth for myself. She will not get over it!” +</p> + +<p> +“I fear not! She has a wonderful constitution—the strength of a +lion—but there are internal injuries, and mortification has +commenced, and a few hours (say twenty-four), must see it terminated. +I cannot give you any hope!” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you for being candid! It is best to know the worst at once! I +suppose we may give her anything she can take!” +</p> + +<p> +“Just so, but I should advise the use of soporifics if great pain +comes on, as it must, I fear, do!” +</p> + +<p> +The men shook hands, and the Baron returned to Hannah’s side. At all +events, he thought, she should not accuse him of inattention now. He +found her again awake and restless, with bright feverish eyes and an +anxious look on her features. +</p> + +<p> +“Doctor!” she gasped, as soon as he appeared, “I shan’t get over +this—I feel it! There’s a great fire inside of me, and my ’ead keeps +going round. I’ve got my death some’ow, I know. And I must see my pore +mother afore I dies!” +</p> + +<p> +“Your <i>mother</i>, Hannah!” cried Von Steinberg, aghast. +</p> + +<p> +“O! yes, Doctor, please!” replied the girl, weakly sobbing, “ ’cos she +was very good to me, afore I took up with devils and things. She +couldn’t abide woices nor shadders, couldn’t mother, and I was a bad +gal, I feels it now, to go agen ’er! It cut me to the ’eart, when we +parted so cruel, and if the Professor ’adn’t stood my friend, I dunno +what I <i>should</i> ’ave done! And Joe too—my young man as was—he turned +me off along of the same thing, and I dessay ’e was right, but I loved +’im true, Doctor—I told the Sig-nor so—and I should like to say +good-bye to ’im also since I’m a’going!” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Hannah, you must not talk like that! You’re in great pain, I +know, but we will pull you through yet—see if we don’t!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! you won’t,” replied the girl, shaking her head; “there’s a summat +in my stummick, as tells me I shan’t never walk out of this ’ere bed. +And so, if I could see my pore mother once more, Doctor, and—and—my +young man, if so be ’e ain’t married another yet—it would make me +easier than anythink else!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you shall see them, if it is in my power,” said Von Steinberg, +as he rose to leave her. +</p> + +<p> +“And the Professor, too, Doctor—my pore old ’usband,” added Hannah. +“ ’E’ll miss me a bit, won’t ’e, cos we was always sich good +friends—’e and I,—always sich good friends!” murmured the dying +girl, in a faint voice. +</p> + +<p> +Commending her to the care of the nurse, the Baron did what he +considered was the last and kindest duty he could perform towards her, +and that was to go down with all haste to Settlefield, and if possible +bring her people up to London to see her once more. +</p> + +<p> +He used the utmost expedition in accomplishing his errand, but it was +some hours before he reached the village, and then it was to find the +little cottage in darkness and mourning—Mrs. Stubbs having died the +day before. +</p> + +<p> +When the widower heard the errand on which Von Steinberg had come, he +expressed a sort of rough regret at his daughter’s hopeless condition, +but he did not volunteer to accompany him back to Town. +</p> + +<p> +“You see, Sir, it’s loike this,” he argued, “the missus she would ’ave +been very glad to see our Hannah afore she died, but it was not to be, +and she lays dead in that theer room, and ’ave lef’ me with hall these +childer on my ’ands, which I can’t leave ’em, not for Hannah, nor no +one. You must please to tell ’er with my dooty as it is so, and +p’r’aps when she’s strong and ’earty agen, she’ll remember her pore +father and ’ow ’e ’as to work to maintain ’er brothers and sisters, +and she rolling in riches, as you may say.” +</p> + +<p> +“But she will <i>never</i> be strong and hearty again,” exclaimed Von +Steinberg, impatiently. “I tell you that my poor wife is dying. She +cannot last more than four-and-twenty hours!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well! I couldn’t go so soon, if I wanted ever so,” replied the man. +“Theer’s my lawful wife a’laying dead in that theer room, and I +wouldn’t leave the ’ouse whilst she’s in it, not for a ’undred +darters, be they whom they may!” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, then, it is of no use my staying here,” said the Baron, +“but I thought you would have had a little more heart!” +</p> + +<p> +“Our Hannah haven’t been sich a perticular good darter to us, Sir, +arter all, you know! She wouldn’t give up them devils and things, as +near broke ’er pore mother’s ’eart, and when she was married to rale +gentlemen like Mr. Ricardo and yerself, she never come anigh us, nor +sent us a word for years—not till she sent them twenty pounds, which +I’m sure another little sum like that larst, would come in very +convenient just now!” +</p> + +<p> +Karl von Steinberg was too much irritated by his refusal to visit his +dying child, to feel very liberally inclined towards the cold-hearted +old grumbler just then. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot stay to hear any more of your troubles now,” he said, “for I +must return to the side of my poor wife. By and by, perhaps, when I +have time to think, I may help you a little, for her sake!” +</p> + +<p> +He tore back to London as quickly as he could, half expecting to find +that Hannah had left <i>him</i> also, without a last good-bye. But she was +still alive, and in less pain—the cruel mortification had done its +work—her spirit was holding on to earth by a single thread. +</p> + +<p> +As he entered her room, he found both the nurse and housekeeper there, +whilst Hannah was sitting up in bed, notwithstanding her splints and +bandages, with a bright look of expectation on her face. He was just +about to try and soothe her last moments with some pleasing fiction of +her mother coming to her soon, when he was startled by hearing her +exclaim, as she stretched out her arms towards the foot of the bed, +</p> + +<p> +“O! mother! mother! I know’d as you’d forgive me at the larst! Ah! it +<i>is</i> good to see you, mother, arter all these years! But don’tee cry! +I shall soon be well again, now you’ve come to fetch me, and forgive +me for them devils and things, and take me ’ome to live along of you!” +</p> + +<p> +The plain face glowed with delighted anticipation—the swollen hands +were stretched out with rapture—the eyes, lovely to the last, beamed +upon the apparition that stood before her, and the spirit of Hannah +Stubbs, with the most gratifying result of all her mediumship, flew +into the arms of her waiting mother, whilst her body fell back +lifeless on the pillows. She had passed away in total ignorance of all +that had befallen her since she had left her mother’s care for that of +Ricardo—she did not know that she had ever been obsessed by Leonora, +or that her hand had committed a murder, or that she had been +unfaithful, or insolent, or overbearing! Poor ignorant, innocent +Hannah Stubbs! Stupid, plain and uninteresting, as she came from His +hand, she returned to her Creator, to be beautified and refined and +enlightened, under the process of her Father’s love! +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +THE END. +</p> + + +<h2> +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES +</h2> + +<p> +The Bernhard Tauchnitz (Leipzig, 1896) edition was consulted for the +changes listed below. +</p> + +<p> +Obsolete and inconsistent spellings (e.g. negociations, laughing +stock/laughing-stock, needlework/needle-work, etc.) have been +preserved. +</p> + +<p class="noindent mt1"> +<b>Alterations to the text</b>: +</p> + +<p> +Add ToC. +</p> + +<p> +Punctuation: fix some quotation mark pairings/nestings. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter I] +</p> + +<p> +Change “he and the Sig-nor will be <i>closetted</i> for hours together” to +<i>closeted</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter III] +</p> + +<p> +“Is she very stupid. very clumsy, very impertinent?” change period to +a comma. +</p> + +<p> +(“It ain’t that, Sir,” she said, shaking her head, “In course I was) +change the last comma to a period. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter IV] +</p> + +<p> +“she must shake like an aspen leaf I found ’er in the kitchen” add +period after <i>leaf</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter V] +</p> + +<p> +Change “you were to see Doctor Steinberg again <i>tonight</i>?” to +<i>to-night</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter VI] +</p> + +<p> +“that it does not all proceed from giving her <i>medecine</i>!” to +<i>medicine</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“they found themselves once more <i>closetted</i> with Hannah Stubbs” to +<i>closeted</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter VII] +</p> + +<p> +(don’t take ’eed to your ways,” retorted his irate adversary, “Me and) +change the last comma to a period. +</p> + +<p> +“doings of Satan—and no more will. this young man ’ere!” delete the +period. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter VIII] +</p> + +<p> +“If he had <i>announccd</i> that he intended to murder Hannah Stubbs” to +<i>announced</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter IX] +</p> + +<p> +“continue to call her Hannah <i>has</i> usual” to <i>as</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XII] +</p> + +<p> +“when pressed, as late as ten o’clock at night, Now! go on with” +change the second comma to a period. +</p> + +<p> +“and ’ave you left them for good. and where are you living now?” +change the period to a comma. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XIII] +</p> + +<p> +“Karl <i>van</i> Steinberg alone remaining behind for a few minutes” to +<i>von</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“if her condition were normal. or if they could trace any” change +the period to a comma. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XIV] +</p> + +<p> +(but English is so hard,” she added, pathetically,) change the third +comma to a period. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XV] +</p> + +<p> +“against her; the would accept any explanation she chose to child +give—she was only...” change <i>the</i> to <i>she</i> and delete <i>child</i>. +</p> + +<p> +(“O! don’t speak of such a thing pray! I shouldn’t) add comma after +<i>thing</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XVI] +</p> + +<p> +“but all this talk about Spiritualism is only got up, for want of +a better excitement.” delete the comma. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XVII] +</p> + +<p> +“I lost her in so cruelly sudden a manner Only four days ill” add +period after <i>manner</i>. +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +[End of text] +</p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76579 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/76579-h/images/cover.jpg b/76579-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d9881ea --- /dev/null +++ b/76579-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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