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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, To be Read at Dusk, by Charles Dickens
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions 
+whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
+the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at 
+www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
+
+
+
+
+Title: To be Read at Dusk
+
+
+Author: Charles Dickens
+
+
+
+Release Date: January 11, 2015  [eBook #924]
+[This file was first posted on May 30, 1997]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO BE READ AT DUSK***
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1905 Chapman & Hall edition (_The Works of Charles
+Dickens_, volume 28) by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+                          [Picture: Book cover]
+
+
+
+
+
+                            TO BE READ AT DUSK
+
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                            By CHARLES DICKENS
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                       LONDON: CHAPMAN & HALL, LD.
+                    NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
+                                   1905
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+ONE, two, three, four, five.  There were five of them.
+
+Five couriers, sitting on a bench outside the convent on the summit of
+the Great St. Bernard in Switzerland, looking at the remote heights,
+stained by the setting sun as if a mighty quantity of red wine had been
+broached upon the mountain top, and had not yet had time to sink into the
+snow.
+
+This is not my simile.  It was made for the occasion by the stoutest
+courier, who was a German.  None of the others took any more notice of it
+than they took of me, sitting on another bench on the other side of the
+convent door, smoking my cigar, like them, and—also like them—looking at
+the reddened snow, and at the lonely shed hard by, where the bodies of
+belated travellers, dug out of it, slowly wither away, knowing no
+corruption in that cold region.
+
+The wine upon the mountain top soaked in as we looked; the mountain
+became white; the sky, a very dark blue; the wind rose; and the air
+turned piercing cold.  The five couriers buttoned their rough coats.
+There being no safer man to imitate in all such proceedings than a
+courier, I buttoned mine.
+
+The mountain in the sunset had stopped the five couriers in a
+conversation.  It is a sublime sight, likely to stop conversation.  The
+mountain being now out of the sunset, they resumed.  Not that I had heard
+any part of their previous discourse; for indeed, I had not then broken
+away from the American gentleman, in the travellers’ parlour of the
+convent, who, sitting with his face to the fire, had undertaken to
+realise to me the whole progress of events which had led to the
+accumulation by the Honourable Ananias Dodger of one of the largest
+acquisitions of dollars ever made in our country.
+
+‘My God!’ said the Swiss courier, speaking in French, which I do not hold
+(as some authors appear to do) to be such an all-sufficient excuse for a
+naughty word, that I have only to write it in that language to make it
+innocent; ‘if you talk of ghosts—’
+
+‘But I _don’t_ talk of ghosts,’ said the German.
+
+‘Of what then?’ asked the Swiss.
+
+‘If I knew of what then,’ said the German, ‘I should probably know a
+great deal more.’
+
+It was a good answer, I thought, and it made me curious.  So, I moved my
+position to that corner of my bench which was nearest to them, and
+leaning my back against the convent wall, heard perfectly, without
+appearing to attend.
+
+‘Thunder and lightning!’ said the German, warming, ‘when a certain man is
+coming to see you, unexpectedly; and, without his own knowledge, sends
+some invisible messenger, to put the idea of him into your head all day,
+what do you call that?  When you walk along a crowded street—at
+Frankfort, Milan, London, Paris—and think that a passing stranger is like
+your friend Heinrich, and then that another passing stranger is like your
+friend Heinrich, and so begin to have a strange foreknowledge that
+presently you’ll meet your friend Heinrich—which you do, though you
+believed him at Trieste—what do you call _that_?’
+
+‘It’s not uncommon, either,’ murmured the Swiss and the other three.
+
+‘Uncommon!’ said the German.  ‘It’s as common as cherries in the Black
+Forest.  It’s as common as maccaroni at Naples.  And Naples reminds me!
+When the old Marchesa Senzanima shrieks at a card-party on the Chiaja—as
+I heard and saw her, for it happened in a Bavarian family of mine, and I
+was overlooking the service that evening—I say, when the old Marchesa
+starts up at the card-table, white through her rouge, and cries, “My
+sister in Spain is dead!  I felt her cold touch on my back!”—and when
+that sister _is_ dead at the moment—what do you call that?’
+
+‘Or when the blood of San Gennaro liquefies at the request of the
+clergy—as all the world knows that it does regularly once a-year, in my
+native city,’ said the Neapolitan courier after a pause, with a comical
+look, ‘what do you call that?’
+
+‘_That_!’ cried the German.  ‘Well, I think I know a name for that.’
+
+‘Miracle?’ said the Neapolitan, with the same sly face.
+
+The German merely smoked and laughed; and they all smoked and laughed.
+
+‘Bah!’ said the German, presently.  ‘I speak of things that really do
+happen.  When I want to see the conjurer, I pay to see a professed one,
+and have my money’s worth.  Very strange things do happen without ghosts.
+Ghosts!  Giovanni Baptista, tell your story of the English bride.
+There’s no ghost in that, but something full as strange.  Will any man
+tell me what?’
+
+As there was a silence among them, I glanced around.  He whom I took to
+be Baptista was lighting a fresh cigar.  He presently went on to speak.
+He was a Genoese, as I judged.
+
+‘The story of the English bride?’ said he.  ‘Basta! one ought not to call
+so slight a thing a story.  Well, it’s all one.  But it’s true.  Observe
+me well, gentlemen, it’s true.  That which glitters is not always gold;
+but what I am going to tell, is true.’
+
+He repeated this more than once.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+Ten years ago, I took my credentials to an English gentleman at Long’s
+Hotel, in Bond Street, London, who was about to travel—it might be for
+one year, it might be for two.  He approved of them; likewise of me.  He
+was pleased to make inquiry.  The testimony that he received was
+favourable.  He engaged me by the six months, and my entertainment was
+generous.
+
+He was young, handsome, very happy.  He was enamoured of a fair young
+English lady, with a sufficient fortune, and they were going to be
+married.  It was the wedding-trip, in short, that we were going to take.
+For three months’ rest in the hot weather (it was early summer then) he
+had hired an old place on the Riviera, at an easy distance from my city,
+Genoa, on the road to Nice.  Did I know that place?  Yes; I told him I
+knew it well.  It was an old palace with great gardens.  It was a little
+bare, and it was a little dark and gloomy, being close surrounded by
+trees; but it was spacious, ancient, grand, and on the seashore.  He said
+it had been so described to him exactly, and he was well pleased that I
+knew it.  For its being a little bare of furniture, all such places were.
+For its being a little gloomy, he had hired it principally for the
+gardens, and he and my mistress would pass the summer weather in their
+shade.
+
+‘So all goes well, Baptista?’ said he.
+
+‘Indubitably, signore; very well.’
+
+We had a travelling chariot for our journey, newly built for us, and in
+all respects complete.  All we had was complete; we wanted for nothing.
+The marriage took place.  They were happy.  I was happy, seeing all so
+bright, being so well situated, going to my own city, teaching my
+language in the rumble to the maid, la bella Carolina, whose heart was
+gay with laughter: who was young and rosy.
+
+The time flew.  But I observed—listen to this, I pray! (and here the
+courier dropped his voice)—I observed my mistress sometimes brooding in a
+manner very strange; in a frightened manner; in an unhappy manner; with a
+cloudy, uncertain alarm upon her.  I think that I began to notice this
+when I was walking up hills by the carriage side, and master had gone on
+in front.  At any rate, I remember that it impressed itself upon my mind
+one evening in the South of France, when she called to me to call master
+back; and when he came back, and walked for a long way, talking
+encouragingly and affectionately to her, with his hand upon the open
+window, and hers in it.  Now and then, he laughed in a merry way, as if
+he were bantering her out of something.  By-and-by, she laughed, and then
+all went well again.
+
+It was curious.  I asked la bella Carolina, the pretty little one, Was
+mistress unwell?—No.—Out of spirits?—No.—Fearful of bad roads, or
+brigands?—No.  And what made it more mysterious was, the pretty little
+one would not look at me in giving answer, but _would_ look at the view.
+
+But, one day she told me the secret.
+
+‘If you must know,’ said Carolina, ‘I find, from what I have overheard,
+that mistress is haunted.’
+
+‘How haunted?’
+
+‘By a dream.’
+
+‘What dream?’
+
+‘By a dream of a face.  For three nights before her marriage, she saw a
+face in a dream—always the same face, and only One.’
+
+‘A terrible face?’
+
+‘No.  The face of a dark, remarkable-looking man, in black, with black
+hair and a grey moustache—a handsome man except for a reserved and secret
+air.  Not a face she ever saw, or at all like a face she ever saw.  Doing
+nothing in the dream but looking at her fixedly, out of darkness.’
+
+‘Does the dream come back?’
+
+‘Never.  The recollection of it is all her trouble.’
+
+‘And why does it trouble her?’
+
+Carolina shook her head.
+
+‘That’s master’s question,’ said la bella.  ‘She don’t know.  She wonders
+why, herself.  But I heard her tell him, only last night, that if she was
+to find a picture of that face in our Italian house (which she is afraid
+she will) she did not know how she could ever bear it.’
+
+Upon my word I was fearful after this (said the Genoese courier) of our
+coming to the old palazzo, lest some such ill-starred picture should
+happen to be there.  I knew there were many there; and, as we got nearer
+and nearer to the place, I wished the whole gallery in the crater of
+Vesuvius.  To mend the matter, it was a stormy dismal evening when we, at
+last, approached that part of the Riviera.  It thundered; and the thunder
+of my city and its environs, rolling among the high hills, is very loud.
+The lizards ran in and out of the chinks in the broken stone wall of the
+garden, as if they were frightened; the frogs bubbled and croaked their
+loudest; the sea-wind moaned, and the wet trees dripped; and the
+lightning—body of San Lorenzo, how it lightened!
+
+We all know what an old palace in or near Genoa is—how time and the sea
+air have blotted it—how the drapery painted on the outer walls has peeled
+off in great flakes of plaster—how the lower windows are darkened with
+rusty bars of iron—how the courtyard is overgrown with grass—how the
+outer buildings are dilapidated—how the whole pile seems devoted to ruin.
+Our palazzo was one of the true kind.  It had been shut up close for
+months.  Months?—years!—it had an earthy smell, like a tomb.  The scent
+of the orange trees on the broad back terrace, and of the lemons ripening
+on the wall, and of some shrubs that grew around a broken fountain, had
+got into the house somehow, and had never been able to get out again.
+There was, in every room, an aged smell, grown faint with confinement.
+It pined in all the cupboards and drawers.  In the little rooms of
+communication between great rooms, it was stifling.  If you turned a
+picture—to come back to the pictures—there it still was, clinging to the
+wall behind the frame, like a sort of bat.
+
+The lattice-blinds were close shut, all over the house.  There were two
+ugly, grey old women in the house, to take care of it; one of them with a
+spindle, who stood winding and mumbling in the doorway, and who would as
+soon have let in the devil as the air.  Master, mistress, la bella
+Carolina, and I, went all through the palazzo.  I went first, though I
+have named myself last, opening the windows and the lattice-blinds, and
+shaking down on myself splashes of rain, and scraps of mortar, and now
+and then a dozing mosquito, or a monstrous, fat, blotchy, Genoese spider.
+
+When I had let the evening light into a room, master, mistress, and la
+bella Carolina, entered.  Then, we looked round at all the pictures, and
+I went forward again into another room.  Mistress secretly had great fear
+of meeting with the likeness of that face—we all had; but there was no
+such thing.  The Madonna and Bambino, San Francisco, San Sebastiano,
+Venus, Santa Caterina, Angels, Brigands, Friars, Temples at Sunset,
+Battles, White Horses, Forests, Apostles, Doges, all my old acquaintances
+many times repeated?—yes.  Dark, handsome man in black, reserved and
+secret, with black hair and grey moustache, looking fixedly at mistress
+out of darkness?—no.
+
+At last we got through all the rooms and all the pictures, and came out
+into the gardens.  They were pretty well kept, being rented by a
+gardener, and were large and shady.  In one place there was a rustic
+theatre, open to the sky; the stage a green slope; the coulisses, three
+entrances upon a side, sweet-smelling leafy screens.  Mistress moved her
+bright eyes, even there, as if she looked to see the face come in upon
+the scene; but all was well.
+
+‘Now, Clara,’ master said, in a low voice, ‘you see that it is nothing?
+You are happy.’
+
+Mistress was much encouraged.  She soon accustomed herself to that grim
+palazzo, and would sing, and play the harp, and copy the old pictures,
+and stroll with master under the green trees and vines all day.  She was
+beautiful.  He was happy.  He would laugh and say to me, mounting his
+horse for his morning ride before the heat:
+
+‘All goes well, Baptista!’
+
+‘Yes, signore, thank God, very well.’
+
+We kept no company.  I took la bella to the Duomo and Annunciata, to the
+Café, to the Opera, to the village Festa, to the Public Garden, to the
+Day Theatre, to the Marionetti.  The pretty little one was charmed with
+all she saw.  She learnt Italian—heavens! miraculously!  Was mistress
+quite forgetful of that dream? I asked Carolina sometimes.  Nearly, said
+la bella—almost.  It was wearing out.
+
+One day master received a letter, and called me.
+
+‘Baptista!’
+
+‘Signore!’
+
+‘A gentleman who is presented to me will dine here to-day.  He is called
+the Signor Dellombra.  Let me dine like a prince.’
+
+It was an odd name.  I did not know that name.  But, there had been many
+noblemen and gentlemen pursued by Austria on political suspicions,
+lately, and some names had changed.  Perhaps this was one.  Altro!
+Dellombra was as good a name to me as another.
+
+When the Signor Dellombra came to dinner (said the Genoese courier in the
+low voice, into which he had subsided once before), I showed him into the
+reception-room, the great sala of the old palazzo.  Master received him
+with cordiality, and presented him to mistress.  As she rose, her face
+changed, she gave a cry, and fell upon the marble floor.
+
+Then, I turned my head to the Signor Dellombra, and saw that he was
+dressed in black, and had a reserved and secret air, and was a dark,
+remarkable-looking man, with black hair and a grey moustache.
+
+Master raised mistress in his arms, and carried her to her own room,
+where I sent la bella Carolina straight.  La bella told me afterwards
+that mistress was nearly terrified to death, and that she wandered in her
+mind about her dream, all night.
+
+Master was vexed and anxious—almost angry, and yet full of solicitude.
+The Signor Dellombra was a courtly gentleman, and spoke with great
+respect and sympathy of mistress’s being so ill.  The African wind had
+been blowing for some days (they had told him at his hotel of the Maltese
+Cross), and he knew that it was often hurtful.  He hoped the beautiful
+lady would recover soon.  He begged permission to retire, and to renew
+his visit when he should have the happiness of hearing that she was
+better.  Master would not allow of this, and they dined alone.
+
+He withdrew early.  Next day he called at the gate, on horseback, to
+inquire for mistress.  He did so two or three times in that week.
+
+What I observed myself, and what la bella Carolina told me, united to
+explain to me that master had now set his mind on curing mistress of her
+fanciful terror.  He was all kindness, but he was sensible and firm.  He
+reasoned with her, that to encourage such fancies was to invite
+melancholy, if not madness.  That it rested with herself to be herself.
+That if she once resisted her strange weakness, so successfully as to
+receive the Signor Dellombra as an English lady would receive any other
+guest, it was for ever conquered.  To make an end, the signore came
+again, and mistress received him without marked distress (though with
+constraint and apprehension still), and the evening passed serenely.
+Master was so delighted with this change, and so anxious to confirm it,
+that the Signor Dellombra became a constant guest.  He was accomplished
+in pictures, books, and music; and his society, in any grim palazzo,
+would have been welcome.
+
+I used to notice, many times, that mistress was not quite recovered.  She
+would cast down her eyes and droop her head, before the Signor Dellombra,
+or would look at him with a terrified and fascinated glance, as if his
+presence had some evil influence or power upon her.  Turning from her to
+him, I used to see him in the shaded gardens, or the large half-lighted
+sala, looking, as I might say, ‘fixedly upon her out of darkness.’  But,
+truly, I had not forgotten la bella Carolina’s words describing the face
+in the dream.
+
+After his second visit I heard master say:
+
+‘Now, see, my dear Clara, it’s over!  Dellombra has come and gone, and
+your apprehension is broken like glass.’
+
+‘Will he—will he ever come again?’ asked mistress.
+
+‘Again?  Why, surely, over and over again!  Are you cold?’ (she
+shivered).
+
+‘No, dear—but—he terrifies me: are you sure that he need come again?’
+
+‘The surer for the question, Clara!’ replied master, cheerfully.
+
+But, he was very hopeful of her complete recovery now, and grew more and
+more so every day.  She was beautiful.  He was happy.
+
+‘All goes well, Baptista?’ he would say to me again.
+
+‘Yes, signore, thank God; very well.’
+
+We were all (said the Genoese courier, constraining himself to speak a
+little louder), we were all at Rome for the Carnival.  I had been out,
+all day, with a Sicilian, a friend of mine, and a courier, who was there
+with an English family.  As I returned at night to our hotel, I met the
+little Carolina, who never stirred from home alone, running distractedly
+along the Corso.
+
+‘Carolina!  What’s the matter?’
+
+‘O Baptista!  O, for the Lord’s sake! where is my mistress?’
+
+‘Mistress, Carolina?’
+
+‘Gone since morning—told me, when master went out on his day’s journey,
+not to call her, for she was tired with not resting in the night (having
+been in pain), and would lie in bed until the evening; then get up
+refreshed.  She is gone!—she is gone!  Master has come back, broken down
+the door, and she is gone!  My beautiful, my good, my innocent mistress!’
+
+The pretty little one so cried, and raved, and tore herself that I could
+not have held her, but for her swooning on my arm as if she had been
+shot.  Master came up—in manner, face, or voice, no more the master that
+I knew, than I was he.  He took me (I laid the little one upon her bed in
+the hotel, and left her with the chamber-women), in a carriage, furiously
+through the darkness, across the desolate Campagna.  When it was day, and
+we stopped at a miserable post-house, all the horses had been hired
+twelve hours ago, and sent away in different directions.  Mark me! by the
+Signor Dellombra, who had passed there in a carriage, with a frightened
+English lady crouching in one corner.
+
+I never heard (said the Genoese courier, drawing a long breath) that she
+was ever traced beyond that spot.  All I know is, that she vanished into
+infamous oblivion, with the dreaded face beside her that she had seen in
+her dream.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+‘What do you call _that_?’ said the German courier, triumphantly.
+‘Ghosts!  There are no ghosts _there_!  What do you call this, that I am
+going to tell you?  Ghosts!  There are no ghosts _here_!’
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+_I_ took an engagement once (pursued the German courier) with an English
+gentleman, elderly and a bachelor, to travel through my country, my
+Fatherland.  He was a merchant who traded with my country and knew the
+language, but who had never been there since he was a boy—as I judge,
+some sixty years before.
+
+His name was James, and he had a twin-brother John, also a bachelor.
+Between these brothers there was a great affection.  They were in
+business together, at Goodman’s Fields, but they did not live together.
+Mr. James dwelt in Poland Street, turning out of Oxford Street, London;
+Mr. John resided by Epping Forest.
+
+Mr. James and I were to start for Germany in about a week.  The exact day
+depended on business.  Mr. John came to Poland Street (where I was
+staying in the house), to pass that week with Mr. James.  But, he said to
+his brother on the second day, ‘I don’t feel very well, James.  There’s
+not much the matter with me; but I think I am a little gouty.  I’ll go
+home and put myself under the care of my old housekeeper, who understands
+my ways.  If I get quite better, I’ll come back and see you before you
+go.  If I don’t feel well enough to resume my visit where I leave it off,
+why _you_ will come and see me before you go.’  Mr. James, of course,
+said he would, and they shook hands—both hands, as they always did—and
+Mr. John ordered out his old-fashioned chariot and rumbled home.
+
+It was on the second night after that—that is to say, the fourth in the
+week—when I was awoke out of my sound sleep by Mr. James coming into my
+bedroom in his flannel-gown, with a lighted candle.  He sat upon the side
+of my bed, and looking at me, said:
+
+‘Wilhelm, I have reason to think I have got some strange illness upon
+me.’
+
+I then perceived that there was a very unusual expression in his face.
+
+‘Wilhelm,’ said he, ‘I am not afraid or ashamed to tell you what I might
+be afraid or ashamed to tell another man.  You come from a sensible
+country, where mysterious things are inquired into and are not settled to
+have been weighed and measured—or to have been unweighable and
+unmeasurable—or in either case to have been completely disposed of, for
+all time—ever so many years ago.  I have just now seen the phantom of my
+brother.’
+
+I confess (said the German courier) that it gave me a little tingling of
+the blood to hear it.
+
+‘I have just now seen,’ Mr. James repeated, looking full at me, that I
+might see how collected he was, ‘the phantom of my brother John.  I was
+sitting up in bed, unable to sleep, when it came into my room, in a white
+dress, and regarding me earnestly, passed up to the end of the room,
+glanced at some papers on my writing-desk, turned, and, still looking
+earnestly at me as it passed the bed, went out at the door.  Now, I am
+not in the least mad, and am not in the least disposed to invest that
+phantom with any external existence out of myself.  I think it is a
+warning to me that I am ill; and I think I had better be bled.’
+
+I got out of bed directly (said the German courier) and began to get on
+my clothes, begging him not to be alarmed, and telling him that I would
+go myself to the doctor.  I was just ready, when we heard a loud knocking
+and ringing at the street door.  My room being an attic at the back, and
+Mr. James’s being the second-floor room in the front, we went down to his
+room, and put up the window, to see what was the matter.
+
+‘Is that Mr. James?’ said a man below, falling back to the opposite side
+of the way to look up.
+
+‘It is,’ said Mr. James, ‘and you are my brother’s man, Robert.’
+
+‘Yes, Sir.  I am sorry to say, Sir, that Mr. John is ill.  He is very
+bad, Sir.  It is even feared that he may be lying at the point of death.
+He wants to see you, Sir.  I have a chaise here.  Pray come to him.  Pray
+lose no time.’
+
+Mr. James and I looked at one another.  ‘Wilhelm,’ said he, ‘this is
+strange.  I wish you to come with me!’  I helped him to dress, partly
+there and partly in the chaise; and no grass grew under the horses’ iron
+shoes between Poland Street and the Forest.
+
+Now, mind! (said the German courier) I went with Mr. James into his
+brother’s room, and I saw and heard myself what follows.
+
+His brother lay upon his bed, at the upper end of a long bed-chamber.
+His old housekeeper was there, and others were there: I think three
+others were there, if not four, and they had been with him since early in
+the afternoon.  He was in white, like the figure—necessarily so, because
+he had his night-dress on.  He looked like the figure—necessarily so,
+because he looked earnestly at his brother when he saw him come into the
+room.
+
+But, when his brother reached the bed-side, he slowly raised himself in
+bed, and looking full upon him, said these words:
+
+‘JAMES, YOU HAVE SEEN ME BEFORE, TO-NIGHT—AND YOU KNOW IT!’
+
+And so died!
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+I waited, when the German courier ceased, to hear something said of this
+strange story.  The silence was unbroken.  I looked round, and the five
+couriers were gone: so noiselessly that the ghostly mountain might have
+absorbed them into its eternal snows.  By this time, I was by no means in
+a mood to sit alone in that awful scene, with the chill air coming
+solemnly upon me—or, if I may tell the truth, to sit alone anywhere.  So
+I went back into the convent-parlour, and, finding the American gentleman
+still disposed to relate the biography of the Honourable Ananias Dodger,
+heard it all out.
+
+
+
+
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