the queen of hearts-第10部分

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that　the　six　weeks　of　her　stay　had　expirednow　that　the　day　had
really　arrived；　on　the　evening　of　which　the　first　story　was　to　be
read；　I　began　to　calculate　the　chances　of　failure　as　well　as　the
chances　of　success。　What　if　my　own　estimate　of　the　interest　of
the　stories　turned　out　to　be　a　false　one？　What　if　some　unforeseen
accident　occurred　to　delay　my　son's　return　beyond　ten　days？

The　arrival　of　the　newspaper　had　already　become　an　event　of　the
deepest　importance　to　me。　Unreasonable　as　it　was　to　expect　any
tidings　of　George　at　so　early　a　date；　I　began；　nevertheless；　on
this　first　of　our　days　of　suspense；　to　look　for　the　name　of　his
ship　in　the　columns　of　telegraphic　news。　The　mere　mechanical　act
of　looking　was　some　relief　to　my　overstrained　feelings；　although
I　might　have　known；　and　did　know；　that　the　search；　for　the
present；　could　lead　to　no　satisfactory　result。

Toward　noon　I　shut　myself　up　with　my　collection　of　manuscripts　to
revise　them　for　the　last　time。　Our　exertions　had　thus　far
produced　but　six　of　the　necessary　ten　stories。　As　they　were　only；
however；　to　be　read；　one　by　one；　on　six　successive　evenings；　and
as　we　could　therefore　count　on　plenty　of　leisure　in　the　daytime；
I　was　in　no　fear　of　our　failing　to　finish　the　little　series。

Of　the　six　completed　stories　I　had　written　two；　and　had　found　a
third　in　the　form　of　a　collection　of　letters　among　my　papers。
Morgan　had　only　written　one；　and　this　solitary　contribution　of
his　had　given　me　more　trouble　than　both　my　own　put　together；　in
consequence　of　the　perpetual　intrusion　of　my　brother's
eccentricities　in　every　part　of　his　narrative。　The　process　of
removing　these　quaint　turns　and　frisks　of　Morgan's　humorwhich；
however　amusing　they　might　have　been　in　an　essay；　were　utterly
out　of　place　in　a　story　appealing　to　suspended　interest　for　its
effectcertainly　tried　my　patience　and　my　critical　faculty　（such
as　it　is）　more　severely　than　any　other　part　of　our　literary
enterprise　which　had　fallen　my　share。

Owen's　investigations　among　his　papers　had　supplied　us　with　the
two　remaining　narratives。　One　was　contained　in　a　letter；　and　the
other　in　the　form　of　a　diary；　and　both　had　been　received　by　him
directly　from　the　writers。　Besides　these　contributions；　he　had
undertaken　to　help　us　by　some　work　of　his　own；　and　had　been
engaged　for　the　last　four　days　in　molding　certain　events　which
had　happened　within　his　personal　knowledge　into　the　form　of　a
story。　His　extreme　fastidiousness　as　a　writer　interfered；
however；　so　seriously　with　his　progress　that　he　was　still　sadly
behindhand；　and　was　likely；　though　less　heavily　burdened　than
Morgan　or　myself；　to　be　the　last　to　complete　his　allotted　task。

Such　was　our　position；　and　such　the　resources　at　our　command；
when　the　first　of　the　Ten　Days　dawned　upon　us。　Shortly　after　four
in　the　afternoon　I　completed　my　work　of　revision；　numbered　the
manuscripts　from　one　to　six　exactly　as　they　happened　to　lie　under
my　hand；　and　inclosed　them　all　in　a　portfolio；　covered　with
purple　morocco；　which　became　known　from　that　time　by　the　imposing
title　of　The　Purple　Volume。

Miss　Jessie　returned　from　her　expedition　just　as　I　was　tying　the
strings　of　the　portfolio；　and；　womanlike；　instantly　asked　leave
to　peep　inside；　which　favor　I；　manlike；　positively　declined　to
grant。

As　soon　as　dinner　was　over　our　guest　retired　to　array　herself　in
magnificent　evening　costume。　It　had　been　arranged　that　the
readings　were　to　take　place　in　her　own　sitting…room；　and　she　was
so　enthusiastically　desirous　to　do　honor　to　the　occasion；　that
she　regretted　not　having　brought　with　her　from　London　the　dress
in　which　she　had　been　presented　at　court　the　year　before；　and　not
having　borrowed　certain　materials　for　additional　splendor　which
she　briefly　described　as　〃aunt's　diamonds。〃

Toward　eight　o'clock　we　assembled　in　the　sitting…room；　and　a
strangely　assorted　company　we　were。　At　the　head　of　the　table；
radiant　in　silk　and　jewelry；　flowers　and　furbelows；　sat　The　Queen
of　Hearts；　looking　so　handsome　and　so　happy　that　I　secretly
congratulated　my　absent　son　on　the　excellent　taste　he　had　shown
in　falling　in　love　with　her。　Round　this　bright　young　creature
（Owen；　at　the　foot　of　the　table；　and　Morgan　and　I　on　either　side）
sat　her　three　wrinkled；　gray…headed；　dingily…attired　hosts；　and
just　behind　her；　in　still　more　inappropriate　companionship；
towered　the　spectral　figure　of　the　man　in　armor；　which　had　so
unaccountably　attracted　her　on　her　arrival。　This　strange　scene
was　lighted　up　by　candles　in　high　and　heavy　brass　sconces。　Before
Jessie　stood　a　mighty　china　punch…bowl　of　the　olden　time；
containing　the　folded　pieces　of　card；　inside　which　were　written
the　numbers　to　be　drawn；　and　before　Owen　reposed　the　Purple
Volume　from　which　one　of　us　was　to　read。　The　walls　of　the　room
were　hung　all　round　with　faded　tapestry；　the　clumsy　furniture　was
black　with　age；　and；　in　spite　of　the　light　from　the　sconces；　the
lofty　ceiling　was　almost　lost　in　gloom。　If　Rembrandt　could　have
painted　our　background；　Reynolds　our　guest；　and　Hogarth
ourselves；　the　picture　of　the　scene　would　have　been　complete。

When　the　old　clock　over　the　tower　gateway　had　chimed　eight；　I
rose　to　inaugurate　the　proceedings　by　requesting　Jessie　to　take
one　of　the　pieces　of　card　out　of　the　punch…bowl；　and　to　declare
the　number。

She　laughed；　then　suddenly　became　frightened　and　serious；　then
looked　at　me；　and　said；　〃It　was　dreadfully　like　business；〃　and
then　entreated　Morgan　not　to　stare　at　her；　or；　in　the　present
state　of　her　nerves；　she　should　upset　the　punch…bowl。　At　last　she
summoned　resolution　enough　to　take　out　one　of　the　pieces　of　card
and　to　unfold　it。

〃Declare　the　number；　my　dear；〃　said　Owen。

〃Number　Four；〃　answered　Jessie；　making　a　magnificent　courtesy；
and　beginning　to　look　like　herself　again。

Owen　opened　the　Purple　Volume；　searched　through　the　manuscripts；
and　suddenly　changed　color。　The　cause　of　his　discomposure　was
soon　explained。　Malicious　fate　had　assigned　to　the　most　diffident
individual　in　the　company　the　trying　responsibility　of　leading
the　way。　Number　Four　was　one　of　the　two　narratives　which　Owen　had
found　among　his　own　papers。

〃I　am　almost　sorry；〃　began　my　eldest　brother；　confusedly；　〃that
it　has　fallen　to　my　turn　to　read　first。　I　hardly　know　which　I
distrust　most；　myself　or　my　story。〃

〃Try　and　fancy　you　are　in　the　pulpit　again；〃　said　Morgan；
sarcastically。　〃Gentlemen　of　your　cloth；　Owen；　seldom　seem　to
distrust　themselves　or　their　manuscripts　when　they　get　into　that
position。〃

〃The　fact　is；〃　continued　Owen；　mildly　impenetrable　to　his
brother's　cynical　remark；　〃that　the　little　thing　I　am　going　to
try　and　read　is　hardly　a　story　at　all。　I　am　afraid　it　is　only　an
anecdote。　I　became　possessed　of　the　letter　which　contains　my
narrative　under　these　circumstances。　At　the　time　when　I　was　a
clergyman　in　London；　my　church　was　attended　for　some　months　by　a
lady　who　was　the　wife　of　a　large　farmer　in　the　country。　She　had
been　obliged　to　come　to　town；　and　to　remain　there　for　the　sake　of
one　of　her　children；　a　little　boy；　who　required　the　best　medical
advice。〃

At　the　words　〃medical　advice〃　Morgan　shook　his　head　and　growled
to　himself　contemptuously。　Owen　went　on：

〃While　she　was　attending　in　this　way　to　one　child；　his　share　in
her　love　was　unexpectedly　disputed　by　another；　who　came　into　the
world　rather　before　his　time。　I　baptized　the　baby；　and　was　asked
to　the　little　christening　party　afterward。　This　was　my　first
introduction　to　the　lady；　and　I　was　very　favorably　impressed　by
her；　not　so　much　on　account　of　her　personal　appearance；　for　she
was　but　a　little　wo　man　and　had　no　pretensions　to　beauty；　as　on
account　of　a　certain　simplicity；　and　hearty；　downright　kindness
in　her　manner；　as　well　as　of　an　excellent　frankness　and　good
sense　in　her　conversation。　One　of　the　guests　present；　who　saw　how
she　had　interested　me；　and　who　spoke　of　her　in　the　highest　terms；
surprised　me　by　inquiring　if　I　should　ever　have　supposed　that
quiet；　good…humored　little　woman　to　be　capable　of　performing　an
act　of　courage　which　would　have　tried　the　nerves　of　the　boldest
man　in　England？　I　naturally　enough　begged　for　an　explanation；　but
my　neighbor　at　the　table　only　smiled　and　said；　'If　you　can　find
an　opportunity；　ask　her　what　happened　at　The　Black　Cottage；　and
you　will　hear　something　that　will　astonish　you。'　I　acted　on　the
hint　as　soon　as　I　had　an　opportunity　of　speaking　to　her
privately。　The　lady　answered　that　it　was　too　long　a　story　to　tell
then；　and　explained；　on　my　suggesting　that　she　should　relate　it
on　some　future　day；　that　she　was　about　to　start　for　her　country
home　the　next　morning。　'But；'　she　was　good　enough　to　add；　'as　I
have　been　under　great　obligations　to　you　for　many　Sundays　past；
and　as　you　seem　interested　in　this　matter；　I　will　employ　my　first
leisure　time　after　my　return　in　telling　you　by　writing；　instead
of　by　word　of　mouth；　what　really　happened　to　me　on　one　memorable
night　of　my　life　in　The　Black　Cottage。'

〃She　faithfully　performed　her　promise。　In　a　fortnight　afterward　I
received　from　her　the　narrative　which　I　am　now　about　to　read。〃

BROTHER　OWEN'S　STORY

OF

THE　SIEGE　OF　THE　BLACK　COTTAGE。

To　begin　at　the　beginning；　I　must　take　you　back　to　the　time　after
my　mother's　death；　when　my　only　brother　had　gone　to　sea；　when　my
sister　was　out　at　service；　and　when　I　lived　alone　with　my　father
in　the　midst　of　a　moor　in　the　west　of　England。

The　moor　was　covered　with　great　limestone　rocks；　and　intersected
here　and　there　by　streamlets。　The　nearest　habitation　to　ours　was
situated　about　a　mile　and　a　half　off；　where　a　strip　of　the
fertile　land　stretched　out　into　the　waste　like　a　tongue。　Here　the
outbuildings　of　the　great　Moor　Farm；　then　in　the　possession　of　my
husband's　father；　began。　The　farm…lands　stretched　down　gently
into　a　beautiful　rich　valley；　lying　nicely　sheltered　by　the　high
platform　of　the　moor。　When　the　ground　began　to　rise　again；　miles
and　miles　away；　it　led　up　to　a　country　house　called　Holme　Manor；
belonging　to　a　gentleman　named　Knifton。　Mr。　Knifton　had　lately
married　a　young　lady　whom　my　mother　had　nursed；　and　whose
kindness　and　friendship　for　me；　her　foster…sister；　I　shall
remember　grate