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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/924-0.txt b/924-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..65d3395 --- /dev/null +++ b/924-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,918 @@ +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. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO BE READ AT DUSK*** + + +******* This file should be named 924-0.txt or 924-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/9/2/924 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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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: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO BE READ AT DUSK*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1905 Chapman & Hall edition (<i>The +Works of Charles Dickens</i>, volume 28) by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/coverb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Book cover" +title= +"Book cover" + src="images/covers.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<h1><span class="smcap">To be Read at Dusk</span></h1> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">By CHARLES DICKENS</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON: CHAPMAN & HALL, LD.<br +/> +NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS<br /> +1905</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">One</span>, two, three, four, five. +There were five of them.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>‘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—’</p> +<p>‘But I <i>don’t</i> talk of ghosts,’ said +the German.</p> +<p>‘Of what then?’ asked the Swiss.</p> +<p>‘If I knew of what then,’ said the German, +‘I should probably know a great deal more.’</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>‘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 <i>that</i>?’</p> +<p>‘It’s not uncommon, either,’ murmured the +Swiss and the other three.</p> +<p>‘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 +<i>is</i> dead at the moment—what do you call +that?’</p> +<p>‘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?’</p> +<p>‘<i>That</i>!’ cried the German. +‘Well, I think I know a name for that.’</p> +<p>‘Miracle?’ said the Neapolitan, with the same sly +face.</p> +<p>The German merely smoked and laughed; and they all smoked and +laughed.</p> +<p>‘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?’</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>‘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.’</p> +<p>He repeated this more than once.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>‘So all goes well, Baptista?’ said he.</p> +<p>‘Indubitably, signore; very well.’</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 +<i>would</i> look at the view.</p> +<p>But, one day she told me the secret.</p> +<p>‘If you must know,’ said Carolina, ‘I find, +from what I have overheard, that mistress is haunted.’</p> +<p>‘How haunted?’</p> +<p>‘By a dream.’</p> +<p>‘What dream?’</p> +<p>‘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.’</p> +<p>‘A terrible face?’</p> +<p>‘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.’</p> +<p>‘Does the dream come back?’</p> +<p>‘Never. The recollection of it is all her +trouble.’</p> +<p>‘And why does it trouble her?’</p> +<p>Carolina shook her head.</p> +<p>‘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.’</p> +<p>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!</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>‘Now, Clara,’ master said, in a low voice, +‘you see that it is nothing? You are +happy.’</p> +<p>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:</p> +<p>‘All goes well, Baptista!’</p> +<p>‘Yes, signore, thank God, very well.’</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>One day master received a letter, and called me.</p> +<p>‘Baptista!’</p> +<p>‘Signore!’</p> +<p>‘A gentleman who is presented to me will dine here +to-day. He is called the Signor Dellombra. Let me +dine like a prince.’</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>After his second visit I heard master say:</p> +<p>‘Now, see, my dear Clara, it’s over! +Dellombra has come and gone, and your apprehension is broken like +glass.’</p> +<p>‘Will he—will he ever come again?’ asked +mistress.</p> +<p>‘Again? Why, surely, over and over again! +Are you cold?’ (she shivered).</p> +<p>‘No, dear—but—he terrifies me: are you sure +that he need come again?’</p> +<p>‘The surer for the question, Clara!’ replied +master, cheerfully.</p> +<p>But, he was very hopeful of her complete recovery now, and +grew more and more so every day. She was beautiful. +He was happy.</p> +<p>‘All goes well, Baptista?’ he would say to me +again.</p> +<p>‘Yes, signore, thank God; very well.’</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>‘Carolina! What’s the matter?’</p> +<p>‘O Baptista! O, for the Lord’s sake! where +is my mistress?’</p> +<p>‘Mistress, Carolina?’</p> +<p>‘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!’</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>‘What do you call <i>that</i>?’ said the German +courier, triumphantly. ‘Ghosts! There are no +ghosts <i>there</i>! What do you call this, that I am going +to tell you? Ghosts! There are no ghosts +<i>here</i>!’</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><i>I</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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <i>you</i> 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.</p> +<p>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:</p> +<p>‘Wilhelm, I have reason to think I have got some strange +illness upon me.’</p> +<p>I then perceived that there was a very unusual expression in +his face.</p> +<p>‘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.’</p> +<p>I confess (said the German courier) that it gave me a little +tingling of the blood to hear it.</p> +<p>‘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.’</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>‘Is that Mr. James?’ said a man below, falling +back to the opposite side of the way to look up.</p> +<p>‘It is,’ said Mr. James, ‘and you are my +brother’s man, Robert.’</p> +<p>‘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.’</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>Now, mind! (said the German courier) I went with Mr. James +into his brother’s room, and I saw and heard myself what +follows.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>But, when his brother reached the bed-side, he slowly raised +himself in bed, and looking full upon him, said these words:</p> +<p>‘<span class="smcap">James</span>, <span +class="smcap">you have seen me before</span>, <span +class="smcap">to-night</span>—<span class="smcap">and you +know it</span>!’</p> +<p>And so died!</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>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.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO BE READ AT DUSK***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 924-h.htm or 924-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/9/2/924 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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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 Cafe, 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 horse-back, +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. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Etext of To Be Read At Dusk, by Charles Dickens + diff --git a/old/rddsk10.zip b/old/rddsk10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ffaa57a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rddsk10.zip diff --git a/old/rddsk10h.htm b/old/rddsk10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3755712 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rddsk10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,911 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML><HEAD> +<TITLE>The Project Gutenberg eBook of To be Read at Dusk, by Charles Dickens</TITLE> +<META http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +<!-- +DIV.book { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; } +P { text-indent: 2em; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0; } +P.pg { text-indent: 0em; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; } +--> +</STYLE> +</HEAD> +<BODY> +<center><h1>The Project Gutenberg EBook of<br><a href="#title"><i>To be Read at Dusk</i></a><br>by Charles Dickens</h1> +<h2>(#28 in our series of stories by Charles Dickens)</h2></center> +<DIV align="justify"> +<p class="pg"><br> +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. +<p class="pg"> +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** +<p class="pg"> +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** +<p class="pg"> +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** +<p class="pg"> +Title: To be Read at Dusk +<p class="pg"> +Author: Charles Dickens +<p class="pg"> +Release Date: May, 1997 [EBook #924] +<br>[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +<br>[This HTML edition was first posted on April 15, 2003] +<p class="pg"> +Edition: 10 +<p class="pg"> +Language: English +<p class="pg"> +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 +<p class="pg"> +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, TO BE READ AT DUSK *** +<p class="pg"><br><br> +This eBook was converted to HTML, with additional editing, by Jose Menendez +from the text edition produced by David Price. +<br><br><br></DIV> +<DIV class="book"> +<a name="title"></a><hr size="3" noshade> +<center> +<h1>TO BE READ AT DUSK</h1><br><h3>BY</h3><br><h2>CHARLES DICKENS</h2></center> +<hr size="3" noshade> +<p><br> +<big><big>O</big></big>NE, two, three, four, five. There were five of them. +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +‘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—’ +<p> +‘But I <i>don’t</i> talk of ghosts,’ said the German. +<p> +‘Of what then?’ asked the Swiss. +<p> +‘If I knew of what then,’ said the German, ‘I should probably know +a great deal more.’ +<p> +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. +<p> +‘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 <i>that?</i>’ +<p> +‘It’s not uncommon, either,’ murmured the Swiss and the other +three. +<p> +‘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 <i>is</i> dead at +the moment—what do you call that?’ +<p> +‘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?’ +<p> +‘<i>That!</i>’ cried the German. ‘Well, I think I know a name for that.’ +<p> +‘Miracle?’ said the Neapolitan, with the same sly face. +<p> +The German merely smoked and laughed; and they all smoked and +laughed. +<p> +‘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?’ +<p> +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. +<p> +‘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.’ +<p> +He repeated this more than once. + +<br><br><p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +‘So all goes well, Baptista?’ said he. +<p> +‘Indubitably, signore; very well.’ +<p> +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>I</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. +<p> +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. +<p> +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 +<i>would</i> look at the view. +<p> +But, one day she told me the secret. +<p> +‘If you must know,’ said Carolina, ‘I find, from what I have +overheard, that mistress is haunted.’ +<p> +‘How haunted?’ +<p> +‘By a dream.’ +<p> +‘What dream?’ +<p> +‘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.’ +<p> +‘A terrible face?’ +<p> +‘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.’ +<p> +‘Does the dream come back?’ +<p> +‘Never. The recollection of it is all her trouble.’ +<p> +‘And why does it trouble her?’ +<p> +Carolina shook her head. +<p> +‘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.’ +<p> +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! +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +‘Now, Clara,’ master said, in a low voice, ‘you see that it is +nothing? You are happy.’ +<p> +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: +<p> +‘All goes well, Baptista!’ +<p> +‘Yes, signore, thank God, very well.’ +<p> +We kept no company. I took la bella to the Duomo and Annunciata, +to the Caf, 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. +<p> +One day master received a letter, and called me. +<p> +‘Baptista!’ +<p> +‘Signore!’ +<p> +‘A gentleman who is presented to me will dine here to-day. He is +called the Signor Dellombra. Let me dine like a prince.’ +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +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. +<p> +After his second visit I heard master say: +<p> +‘Now, see, my dear Clara, it’s over! Dellombra has come and gone, +and your apprehension is broken like glass.’ +<p> +‘Will he—will he ever come again?’ asked mistress. +<p> +‘Again? Why, surely, over and over again! Are you cold?’ (she +shivered). +<p> +‘No, dear—but—he terrifies me: are you sure that he need come +again?’ +<p> +‘The surer for the question, Clara!’ replied master, cheerfully. +<p> +But, he was very hopeful of her complete recovery now, and grew +more and more so every day. She was beautiful. He was happy. +<p> +‘All goes well, Baptista?’ he would say to me again. +<p> +‘Yes, signore, thank God; very well.’ +<p> +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. +<p> +‘Carolina! What’s the matter?’ +<p> +‘O Baptista! O, for the Lord’s sake! where is my mistress?’ +<p> +‘Mistress, Carolina?’ +<p> +‘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!’ +<p> +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. +<p> +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. + +<br><br><p> +‘What do you call <i>that?</i>’ said the German courier, triumphantly. +‘Ghosts! There are no ghosts <i>there!</i> What do you call this, that I +am going to tell you? Ghosts! There are no ghosts <i>here!</i>’ + +<br><br><p> +<i>I</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. +<p> +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. +<p> +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 <i>you</i> +will come and see <i>me</i> 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. +<p> +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: +<p> +‘Wilhelm, I have reason to think I have got some strange illness +upon me.’ +<p> +I then perceived that there was a very unusual expression in his +face. +<p> +‘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.’ +<p> +I confess (said the German courier) that it gave me a little +tingling of the blood to hear it. +<p> +‘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.’ +<p> +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. +<p> +‘Is that Mr. James?’ said a man below, falling back to the opposite +side of the way to look up. +<p> +‘It is,’ said Mr. James, ‘and you are my brother’s man, Robert.’ +<p> +‘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.’ +<p> +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. +<p> +Now, mind! (said the German courier) I went with Mr. James into his +brother’s room, and I saw and heard myself what follows. +<p> +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. +<p> +But, when his brother reached the bed-side, he slowly raised +himself in bed, and looking full upon him, said these words: +<p> +‘J<small>AMES, YOU HAVE SEEN ME BEFORE, TO-NIGHT—AND YOU KNOW IT</small>!’ +<p> +And so died! + +<br><br><p> +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. +<br><br><hr size="3" noshade></DIV> +<br><DIV align="justify"> +<a name="footer">*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, TO BE READ AT DUSK ***</a> +<p class="pg"> +This file should be named rddsk10h.htm or rddsk10h.zip<br> +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, rddsk11h.htm<br> +VERSIONS based on separate sources get a new LETTER, rddsk10a.htm +<p class="pg"> +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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