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 In order to ensure that this resource offers high-quality support for the
associated Pearson qualification, it has been through a review process by the
awarding body. This process confirms that this resource fully covers the
teaching and learning content of the specification or part of a specification at
which it is aimed. It also confirms that it demonstrates an appropriate balance
between the development of subject skills, knowledge and understanding, in
addition to preparation for assessment.
Endorsement does not cover any guidance on assessment activities or
processes (e.g. practice questions or advice on how to answer assessment
questions), included in the resource nor does it prescribe any particular
approach to the teaching or delivery of a related course.
While the publishers have made every attempt to ensure that advice on the
qualification and its assessment is accurate, the official specification and
associated assessment guidance materials are the only authoritative source of
information and should always be referred to for definitive guidance.
Pearson examiners have not contributed to any sections in this resource
relevant to examination papers for which they have responsibility.
Examiners will not use endorsed resources as a source of material for any
assessment set by Pearson. Endorsement of a resource does not mean that the
resource is required to achieve this Pearson qualification, nor does it mean
that it is the only suitable material available to support the qualification, and
any resource lists produced by the awarding body shall include this and other
appropriate resources.
The Acknowledgments are listed on page viii.
Although every effort has been made to ensure that website addresses are correct
at time of going to press, Hodder Education cannot be held responsible for the
content of any website mentioned. It is sometimes possible to find a relocated
web page by typing in the address of the home page for a website in the URL
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Orders: please contact Bookpoint Ltd, 130 Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14
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17.00, Monday to Saturday, with a 24-hour message answering service. Visit our
website at www.hoddereducation.co.uk
© Nick England 2017
First published in 2017 by
Hodder Education
An Hachette UK Company,
338 Euston Road
London NW1 3BH
Impression number 5 4 3 2 1
Year 2021 2020 2019 2018 2017
All rights reserved. Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, no
part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or held
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may be obtained from the Copyright Licensing Agency Limited, Saffron House,
6–10 Kirby Street, London EC1N 8TS.
Cover photo © Andrew Brookes/Corbis
Typeset in ITC Legacy Serif by Elektra Media Ltd.
Printed in Italy
Project managed by Elektra Media Ltd.
A catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978 151 040 5189
eISBN 978 151 040 5165
Contents
Getting the most from this book
Acknowledgments
Section 1 Forces and motion
1.1 How fast do things move?
1.2 Acceleration
1.3 Observing and calculating motion
1.4 Introducing forces
1.5 Forces, acceleration and Newton’s laws of motion
1.6 Applying forces
1.7 Stretching
1.8 Momentum
1.9 Collisions and explosions
1.10 Turning moments
1.11 Balancing forces
Summary
Sample answers and expert’s comments
Exam-style questions
Extend and challenge
Section 2 Electricity
2.1 Introducing electricity
2.2 Using mains electricity
2.3 Electrical power
2.4 Electric circuits
2.5 Calculating the resistance
2.6 Current, charge and voltage
2.7 Current and voltage rules
2.8 Circuit calculations
2.9 Electrostatics
2.10 Electrostatics at work
Summary
Sample answers and expert’s comments
Exam-style questions
Extend and challenge
Section 3 Waves
3.1 Introducing waves
3.2 Ripple Tanks
3.3 Electromagnetic waves
 3.4 Reflection of light
3.5 Refraction of light
3.6 Total internal reflection
3.7 Sound waves
3.8 Loudness, quality and pitch
Summary
Sample answers and expert’s comments
Exam-style questions
Extend and challenge
Section 4 Energy resources and energy transfer
4.1 Energy
4.2 Conduction and convection
4.3 Radiation
4.4 What is work?
4.5 Calculating energy
4.6 Energy resources and electricity generation
Summary
Sample answers and expert’s comments
Exam-style questions
Extend and challenge
Section 5 Solids, liquids and gases
5.1 Density
5.2 Pressure
5.3 Pressure in liquids
5.4 Solids, liquids and gases
5.5 Specific heat capacity
5.6 Ideal gas molecules
Summary
Sample answers and expert’s comments
Exam-style questions
Extend and challenge
Section 6 Magnetism and electromagnetism
6.1 Magnets
6.2 Magnetising
6.3 Currents and magnetism
6.4 The motor effect
6.5 Electric motors
6.6 Electromagnetic induction
6.7 Generators
 6.8 Transformers
Summary
Sample answers and expert’s comments
Exam-style questions
Extend and challenge
Section 7 Radioactivity and particles
7.1 Atomic structure
7.2 Radioactivity
7.3 The nature of α, β and γ radiations
7.4 Radioactive decay
7.5 Uses of radioactive materials
7.6 The hazards of radiation
7.7 Nuclear fission
7.8 Nuclear fusion
Summary
Sample answers and expert’s comments
Exam-style questions
Extend and challenge
Section 8 Astrophysics
8.1 Earth’s place in the Universe
8.2 Orbits
8.3 Stellar evolution
8.4 Brightness of stars and absolute magnitude
8.5 The evolution of the Universe
8.6 The evidence for the Big Bang Theory
Summary
Sample answers and expert’s comments
Exam-style questions
Extend and challenge

Index
Getting the most from this book
Welcome to the Edexcel International GCSE (9–1) Physics Student Book. This
book has been divided into eight Sections, following the structure and order of
the Edexcel Specification, which you can find on the Edexcel website for
reference.
Each Section has been divided into a number of smaller Chapters to help you
manage your learning.
The following features have been included to help you get the most from this
book.
At the start of each Section you will find the learning objectives for that
section.

DISCUSS • CALCULATE
Try the activity before you start, and then have a look at it again once
you have completed the Section to see if your responses are different
before and after learning more about the topics.

PRACTICAL
Practical boxes highlight the practical work covered in the book. They
provide hints on key things to remember, or alternative practical work
that you can do to help you learn more about that topic.

TIP
Tips throughout the book will guide you in your learning process.

STUDY QUESTIONS
At the end of each Chapter you will find Study Questions. Work
through these in class or on your own for homework. Answers are
available online.

You will find Exam-style questions at the end of each Section covering
the content of that Section and the different types of questions you will
find in an examination.

Formulae and laws have been highlighted so that you can easily find
them as you work through the book. Remember that in your exam you
will be given some formulae; others you have to memorise.
Before you try the exam-style questions, look at the sample answers
and expert’s comments to see how marks are awarded and common
mistakes to avoid.
EXTEND AND CHALLENGE
When you have completed all the Exam-style questions for the
Section, try the Extend and Challenge questions.

ANSWERS
Answers for all questions and activities in this book can be found online
at www.hoddereducation.co.uk/igcsephysics
Acknowledgments
The Publisher would like to thank the following for permission to reproduce
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1
Forces and motion

When moving in a straight line at a constant speed, balanced forces

must act on this surfer.
By the end of this section you should:
• be able to plot and explain distance-time graphs
• know the relationship between average speed, distance and time
• know the relationship between acceleration, change in velocity
and time taken
• be able to plot and explain velocity-time graphs, and use them to
calculate an acceleration and the distance travelled
• be able to use the relationship between final speed, initial speed,
acceleration and distanced moved
• describe the effects of forces that act on bodies
• be able to identify different types of force
• understand how vector quantities differ from scalar quantities
• be able to calculate the resultant of forces that act along a line
• know that friction is a force that opposes motion
• know and be able to use the relationship between unbalanced
force, mass and acceleration
• know and be able to use the relationship between weight, mass
and gravitational field strength
• know that the stopping distance of a car is the sum of the
thinking and braking distances
• be able to describe the factors which affect vehicle stopping
distance
• be able to describe the forces that act on falling objects, and
explain why a falling object reaches a terminal velocity
• know Hooke’s Law and be able to describe elastic behaviour
• know and be able to use the relationship between momentum,
mass and velocity
• be able to use the idea of momentum to explain safety features
• be able to use the conservation of momentum to calculate mass,
velocity and momentum
• be able to use the relationship between force, change in
momentum and time taken
• understand Newton’s Third Law
• know that moment = force × perpendicular distance from the
pivot
• know that the weight of an object acts through its centre of
gravity
• be able to use the principle of moments to analyse the forces
acting in one plane.
CONSIDER • DISCUSS
1 Can you suggest how many forces are acting on the surfer in the
photograph?
2 How do they balance to keep him upright and moving forwards?
1.1 How fast do things move?
Average speed
When you travel in a fast car you finish a journey in a shorter time than when
you travel in a slower car. If the speed of a car is 100 kilometres per hour (100
km/h), it will travel a distance of 100 kilometres in one hour.
Often, however, we use the equation to calculate an average speed because the
speed of the car changes during the journey. When you travel along a motorway,
your speed does not remain exactly the same. You slow down when you get
stuck behind a lorry and speed up when you pull out to overtake a car.

The average speed of an object can be calculated using the equation:

average speed is in metres per second, m/s distance moved is in metres, m time
taken is in seconds, s
Example. A train travels 440 km in 3 hours. Calculate its average speed in m/s.
To solve this problem, you need to remember that 1 km = 1000 m and that 1
hour = 3600 s.
Speed and velocity
The word speed is defined in the previous paragraph. When we use the word
velocity we are stating a speed in a certain direction – for example a car has a
velocity of 20 m/s in an easterly direction. Often you will find that speed and
velocity are used interchangeably. However, in International GCSE Physics we
must be careful because sometimes direction is important.

Definition: velocity is a speed in a defined direction

Distance–time graphs
When an object moves along a straight line, we can represent how far it has
moved using a distance–time graph. Figure 1.2 is a distance–time graph for a
runner. He sets off slowly and travels 20 m in the first 10 seconds. He then
speeds up and travels the next 20 m in 5 seconds.

We can calculate the speed of the runner using the gradient of the graph.
Example. Calculate the speed of the runner using the distance–time graph
(Figure 1.2)
over the first 10 seconds, b) over the time interval 10 s to 15 s.
You can see from the graph that these speeds are the gradients of each part of the
graph.
When you set off on a bicycle ride, it takes time for you to reach your top speed.
You accelerate gradually.
Figure 1.3 shows a distance–time graph for a cyclist at the start of a ride. The
gradient gets steeper as time increases. This tells us that her speed is increasing.
So the cyclist is accelerating.

We can calculate the speed of the cyclist at any point by drawing a tangent to the
curve, and then measuring the gradient.
Example. On the graph in Figure 1.3, a gradient has been drawn at point A, 20
seconds after the start of the ride. Calculate the speed at this time.
Investigating motion
The purpose of this experiment is for you to be able to determine the speed of an
object or a person, by measuring how long it takes something (or someone) to
cover a measured distance.
You can design your own experiments, or base yours on the ideas below.
Go outside and mark places at a separation of 2 m. A pupil walks slowly for 10
m, then walks quickly or runs for 10 m. His motion is recorded by ten students
with stopwatches; they start their watches as the walker starts, and they record
the time that the walker passes.

TIP
You should be familiar with an experiment to investigate the motion of
everyday objects.
1 Plot a graph of distance against time, draw the best straight lines through the
points.
2 Which student was slow to react as the walker passed?
3 Use the graph to determine the walker’s speed:
a) over the first 10 m b) over the second 10 m.
4 Explain the significance of the gradient of the graph.

STUDY QUESTIONS
1 A helicopter flies from London to Paris in 2 hours, covering a distance
of 300 km. Calculate the helicopter’s speed in km/h.
2 Curtis cycles to school. Figure 1.5 shows the distance–time graph for
his journey.

a) How long did Curtis stop at the traffic lights?

b) During which part of the journey was Curtis travelling
 fastest?
3 A car travels 100 m in a time of 5 s at a constant speed. Sketch a
distance–time graph to show the motion of the car.
4 The table below shows average speeds and times recorded by top
male athletes in several track events. Copy and complete the table.

5 Ravi, Paul and Tina enter a 30 km road race. Figure 1.6 shows
Ravi’s and Paul’s progress through the race.

a) Which runner ran at a constant speed? Explain your answer.

b) Calculate Paul’s average speed for the 30 km run.
c) What happened to Paul’s speed after 2 hours?
Tina was one hour late starting the race. During the race she ran
 at a constant speed of 15 km/h.
d) Copy the graph and add to it a line to show how Tina ran.
e) Determine how far Tina had run when she overtook Paul.
6 Sketch a graph of distance travelled (y-axis) against time (x-axis) for
a train coming into a station. The train stops for a while at the station
and then starts again.
7 Determine which of the answers below is the closest to the speed at
point B of Figure 1.3.
a) 4 m/s b) 10 m/s c) 15 m/s
1.2 Acceleration
Starting from the grid, a Formula 1 car reaches a speed of 30 m/s after 2 s. A flea
can reach a speed of 1 m/s after 0.001 s. Which accelerates faster?

Speeding up and slowing down

When a car is speeding up, we say it is accelerating. When it is slowing down we
say it is decelerating.
A car that accelerates rapidly reaches a high speed in a short time. For example,
a car might speed up to 12.5 m/s in 5 seconds. A van could take twice as long, 10
s, to reach the same speed. So the acceleration of the car is twice as big as the
van’s acceleration.
You can calculate the acceleration of an object using the equation:

where acceleration, a, is in metres per second squared, m/s2

change in velocity (v − u) is in metres per second, m/s v is the final velocity after
something has accelerated and u is the velocity before the acceleration.

time, t, taken is in seconds, s

TIP
The units of acceleration are m/s2

Velocity–time graphs
It can be helpful to plot graphs of velocity against time.
Figure 2.3 shows the velocity–time graph for a cyclist as she goes on a short
journey.

• In the first 8 seconds, she accelerates up to a speed of 12 m/s (section AB of

the graph).
• For the next 8 seconds, she cycles at a constant speed (section BC of the
graph).
• Then for the last 4 seconds of the journey, she decelerates to a stop (section CD
of the graph).
The gradient of the graph gives us the acceleration. In section AB she increases
her speed by 12 m/s in 8 seconds.
You can also work out the distance travelled by calculating the area under the
velocity–time graph. The area under section BC gives the distance travelled

because:

TIP
The area under a velocity-time graph is the distance travelled.

The distance travelled in the first 8 seconds, the region AB, is calculated using

the formula:

TIP
The gradient of a velocity-time graph is the acceleration.

STUDY QUESTIONS
1 Which is the correct unit for acceleration?

2 Explain the meaning of the words:

a) acceleration b) deceleration.
3 a) Write down the equation which links acceleration to a change of
velocity and time.
b) Use the information at the top of page 5 to calculate the
acceleration of:
i) the F1 car ii) the flea
4 This question refers to the journey shown in Figure 2.3.
a) Calculate the cyclist’s deceleration over region CD of the
graph.
b) Use the area under the graph to calculate the distance
covered during the whole journey.
c) Calculate the average speed over the whole journey.
5 The table shows how the speed, in m/s, of a Formula 1 racing car
changes as it accelerates away from the starting grid at the
beginning of a Grand Prix.
a) Plot a graph of speed (y-axis) against time (x-axis).
b) Use your graph to calculate the acceleration of the car at:
i) 16 s ii) 1 s.
c) Calculate how far the car has travelled after 16 s.

6 Drag cars are designed to cover distances of 400 m in about 6

seconds. During this time the cars accelerate very rapidly from a
standing start. At the end of 6 seconds, a drag car reaches a speed
of 150 m/s.
a) Calculate the drag car’s average speed.
b) Calculate its average acceleration.
7 Copy the table and fill in the missing values.
1.3 Observing and calculating motion

An athlete’s trainer used to watch them and time their motion with a stopwatch.
Now motion can be tracked with a GPS tracker in great detail. Movement can
also be analysed by high speed multiframed photography.
The following practicals show two further ways of analysing motion.
Light gates
The speed of a moving object can also be measured using light gates. Figure 3.2
shows an experiment to determine the acceleration of a rolling ball as it passes
between two light gates. When the ball passes through a light gate, it cuts a beam
of light. This allows the computer to measure the time taken by the ball to pass
through the gate. By knowing the diameter of the ball, the speed of the ball at
each gate can be calculated. You can tell if the ball is accelerating if it speeds up
between light gates A and B. Follow the questions below to show how the gates
can be programmed to do the work for you. The measurements taken in an
experiment are shown here.
1 Explain why it is important to adjust the light gates to the correct height.
2 Calculate the speed of the ball as it goes through:
a) gate A b) gate B.
3 Calculate the ball’s acceleration as it moves from gate A to gate B.
Ticker timer
Changing speeds and accelerations of objects in the laboratory can be measured
directly using light gates, data loggers and computers. However, motion is still
studied using the ticker timer (Figure 3.3), because it collects data in a clear way,
which can be usefully analysed. A ticker timer has a small hammer that vibrates
up and down 50 times per second. The hammer hits a piece of carbon paper,
which leaves a mark on a length of tape.
Figure 3.4 shows you a tape that has been pulled through the timer. You can see
that the dots are close together over the region PQ. Then the dots get further
apart, so the object moved faster over QR. The movement slowed down again
over the last part of the tape, RS. Since the timer produces 50 dots per second,
the time between dots is 1/50 s or 0.02 s. So we can work out the speed:

1 Work out the speed of the tape in the region QR.

2 Which is the closest to the speed in the region RS?

Equation of Motion
When an object accelerates in a straight line, the final speed, initial speed, the
acceleration and the distance travelled may be connected by the following
equation.
 where v is the final velocity in metres per second, m/s
u is the initial (starting) velocity in metres per second, m/s
a is the acceleration in metres per second squared, m/s2
s is the distance in metres, m.
Provided the value of three of the quantities is known, the equation can be
rearranged to calculate the unknown quantity.
Example. The second stage of a rocket accelerates at 3 m/s2. This causes the
velocity of the rocket to increase from 450 m/s to 750 m/s. Calculate the distance
the rocket travels while it is accelerating.
Answer.

STUDY QUESTIONS
1 A model car is rolled down a slope in a laboratory. Describe
apparatus and explain how you would use that apparatus to show
that the car is accelerating.
2 The graph shows how the velocity of a jet aircraft increases as it
takes off from the deck of an aircraft carrier.

Calculate its acceleration

a) during the first second b) between 3 and 4 seconds.
3 An aeroplane can accelerate at a rate of 2.5 m/s2. The plane takes off when it
speed reaches 60 m/s. Calculate the minimum length of runway that the plane
needs to take off.
1.4 Introducing forces
A force is a push or a pull. The shot putter pushes the shot and the archer pulls
the string on the bow. Forces are measured in newtons, N. Where does the name
come from?

What is a force?
A force is a push or a pull. Whenever you push or pull something you are
exerting a force on it. The forces that you exert can cause three things:
You can change the shape of an object. You can stretch or squash a spring. You
can bend or break a ruler.
You can change the speed of an object. You can increase the speed of a ball
when you throw it. You decrease its speed when you catch it.
A force can also change the direction in which something is travelling. We
use a steering wheel to turn a car.

The forces described so far are called contact forces. Your hand touches
something to exert a force. There are also non-contact forces. Gravitational,
magnetic and electric forces are non-contact forces. These forces can act over
large distances without two objects touching. The Earth pulls you down whether
or not your feet are on the ground. Although the Earth is 150 million km away
from the Sun, the Sun’s gravitational pull keeps us in orbit around it. Magnets
also exert forces on each other without coming into contact. Electrostatic forces
act between charged objects.

The size of forces

The unit we use to measure force is the newton (N). The box in the margin will
help you to get the feel of the size of several forces.
Large forces can be measured in kilonewtons, kN.

TIP
The size of some forces
• The pull of gravity on a fly = 0.001 N
• The pull of gravity on an apple = 1 N
• The frictional force slowing a rolling football = 2 N
• The force required to squash an egg = 50 N
• The pull of gravity on a 50 kg student = 500 N
• The tension in a rope, towing a car = 1000 N
• The braking force on a car = 5000 N

Vectors and scalars

Vector quantities have both size and direction. Scalar quantities only have size.
Speed is a scalar because we only define how fast something is moving. Velocity
is a vector quantity because we should define both a size and a direction. Figure
4.3 shows the importance of direction: a helicopter can fly at 150 km/h, it can
reach one of three cities in two hours, depending on the direction of travel. When
the helicopter flies to Brussels from London, its velocity is 150 km/h on a
bearing of 110°.
Force is an example of a vector quantity. Vector quantities have both size and
direction. Other examples of vectors are: velocity (the wind blows at 50 km/h
from the North); displacement (a car travels 20 km due East). A quantity that has
only size is a scalar quantity. Some examples of scalar quantities are: mass (3 kg
of potatoes); temperature (20 °C); energy (100 joules).

Some important forces

Weight is the name that we give to the pull of gravity on an object. Near the
Earth’s surface the pull of gravity is approximately 10 N on each kilogram.
Tension is the name given to a force that acts through a stretched rope; when
two teams pull on a rope it is under tension.
Friction is the contact force that slows down moving things. Friction can also
prevent stationary things from starting to move when other forces act on them.
Drawing forces
Figure 4.4 shows two examples of forces acting on Michael: (a) his weight (the
pull of gravity on him) is 800 N; (b) a rope with a tension of 150 N pulls him
forwards.

It is usual for more than one force to act on something. Then we must show all
the forces acting. When Michael is pulled by the rope (Figure 4.5), his weight
still acts on him, and the floor supports him too – if the floor did not exert an
upwards force on him equal to his weight, he would be falling downwards. The
force is called the floor’s normal contact force, R. The floor will also exert a
frictional force on him, in the opposite direction to that in which he is moving.
All these forces are shown together in Figure 4.5.
Adding forces
When two forces act in the same direction, they add up to give a larger resultant
force. In Figure 4.6, for example, two people each push the car with a force of
300 N. The resultant force acting on the car is now 600 N.

If forces act in opposite directions they may cancel each other out. In Figure 4.5
Michael’s weight, which pulls him downwards, is balanced by the upwards force
from the floor. The resultant force is zero; 800 N − 800 N. We say that these
forces are balanced. Michael therefore stays on the floor.
There are other forces that act on Michael; the pull from the rope to the right is
150 N, but the frictional force to the left is 50 N. The resultant horizontal force
on Michael is therefore 150 N − 50 N = 100 N, to the right.

Resultant force and state of motion

The diagrams in Figure 4.7 show two more examples of how forces add up along
a line. In Figure 4.7(a) the dolphin has adjusted his buoyancy so that the upthrust
from the water balances his weight; he can now stay at the same depth. In Figure
4.7(b), a car is moving forwards and increases its speed. The push from the
engine (900 N) is greater than the wind resistance (700 N), so there is an
unbalanced force of 200 N forwards. The car accelerates forwards.
STUDY QUESTIONS
1 a) Give three examples of forces that are pulls, and three examples
that are pushes.
b) For each of the examples of forces you have given, state an
approximate value for the size of the force.
2 A fisherman has caught a large fish and has to use two balances to
weigh it. Look at the diagram to calculate its weight.

3 A golf ball is hit off its tee, 200 m down the fairway. Draw diagrams to
show all the forces acting on the ball:
a) when the ball rests on the tee b) while the club strikes the
ball on the tee c) as the ball is in flight.
4 For each of the diagrams state the size and direction of the resultant
force.
i)
 ii)

iii)

iv)

5 Frank’s weight is 800 N and his bike’s weight is 2500 N. Determine

the upwards force exerted by the road on his rear wheel.

6 Calculate the resultant force on this rocket.

1.5 Forces, acceleration and Newton’s laws
of motion
Newton’s laws of motion allowed scientists to calculate how to land a spacecraft
on the Moon.
Can you state three equations that they used in their calculations?
What important device do you use every day that was developed as a result of
the NASA space programme?

Newton’s first law: balanced forces

When the resultant force acting on an object is zero, the forces are balanced and
the object does not accelerate. It remains stationary, or continues to move in a
straight line at a constant speed.
Figure 5.2 and 5.3 show some examples where the resultant force is zero.
• A person is standing still. Two forces act on him: his weight downwards and
the normal contact force from the floor upwards. The forces balance; he
remains stationary.
• A car moves along the road. The forwards push from the road on the car is
 balanced by the air resistance on the car. The forces are balanced and so the car
moves with a constant speed in a straight line.
• A spacecraft is in outer space, so far away from any star that the gravitational
force is zero. There are no frictional forces. So the resultant force is zero. The
spacecraft is either at rest or moving in a straight line at a constant speed.
The speed and/or direction of an object will only change if a resultant force acts
on the object.

Newton’s second law: unbalanced forces

When an unbalanced force acts on an object it accelerates. The object could
speed up, slow down or change direction. Figure 5.4 shows two examples of
unbalanced forces acting on a body.
• The spacecraft has turned its engine on. There is a force pushing the craft
forwards, so it accelerates.
• The driver has taken his foot off the accelerator while the car is moving
forwards. There is an air resistance force that acts to decelerate the car.
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
referred, and there were many wonderings and questions in the background,
where the servants congregated, as to what it was. That Madam went out of
nights; that she met some one in the park, and there had long and agitated
interviews; that Jane knew all about it, more than any one, and could ruin
her mistress if she chose to speak; but that Russell too had found out a deal,
and that it had come to master’s ears through her; and full time it did, for
who ever heard of goings-on like this in a gentleman’s house?—this is what
was said among the servants. In superior regions nothing was said at all.
Rosalind and her uncle kept together, as getting a vague comfort in the
universal dreariness from being together. Now and then John Trevanion
stole to the door of his brother’s room, which stood open to give all the air
possible, to see or hear how things were going. One time when he did so his
face was working with emotion.
“Rosalind,” he said, in the whisper which they spoke in, though had they
spoken as loudly as their voices would permit no sound could have reached
the sick-room; “Rosalind, I think that woman is sublime. She knows that
the first thing he will do will be to harm and shame her, and yet there she is,
doing everything for him. I don’t know if she is a sinner or not, but she is
sublime—”
“Who are you speaking of as that woman?—of MY MOTHER, Uncle
John?” cried Rosalind, expanding and growing out of her soft girlhood into
a sort of indignant guardian angel. He shook his head impatiently and sat
down; and nothing more was said between them till the middle of the night,
when Dr. Beaton coming in told them the worst was over, and for the
moment the sick man would “pull through.” “But I’ll have that nurse in
confinement. I’ll send her to the asylum. It is just manslaughter,” he said.
Russell, very pale and frightened, was at her door when Rosalind went up-
stairs.
“The doctor says he will have you tried for manslaughter,” Rosalind
said, as she passed her. “No, I will not say good-night. You have all but
killed papa.”
“It is not I that have killed him,” said Russell; “it’s those that do what
they didn’t ought to.”
Rosalind, in her excitement, stamped her foot upon the floor.
“He says you shall be sent to the asylum; and I say you shall be sent
away from here. You are a bad woman. Perhaps now you will kill the
children to complete your work. We are none of us safe so long as you are
here.”
At this Russell gave a bitter cry and threw up her hands to heaven.
“The children,” she cried, “that I love like my own—that I give my
heart’s blood for—not safe! Oh, Miss Rosalind! God forgive you!—you,
that I have loved the best of all!”
“How should I forgive you?” cried Rosalind, relentless. “I will never
forgive you. Hate me if you please, but never dare to say you love me.
Love!—you don’t know what it is. You should go away to-night if it were I
who had the power and not mamma.”
“She has the power yet. She will not have it long,” the woman cried, in
her terror and passion. And she shut herself up in her room, which
communicated with the children’s, and flung herself on the floor in a panic
which was perhaps as tragical as any of the other sensations of this
confused and miserable house.
And yet when Rosalind went out next morning she was able to withdraw
herself, in a way inconceivable to any one who has not been young and full
of imaginations, from the miseries and terrors of the night. Mr. Trevanion
was much exhausted, but living, and in his worn-out, feeble state required
constant care and nursing, without being well enough to repay that nursing
with abuse, as was his wont. Rosalind, with no one to turn to for
companionship, went out and escaped. She got clear of that small, yet so
important, world, tingling with emotion, with death and life in the balance,
and everything that is most painful in life, and escaped altogether, as if she
had possessed those wings of a dove for which we all long, into another
large and free and open world, in which there was a wide, delightful air
which blew in her face, and every kind of curiosity and interest and hope.
How it was she fell to thinking of the curious fact that she had not, and had
never had, a lover, at such a moment, who can tell? Perhaps because it
occurred to her at first that it would be well to have something, somebody,
to escape to and take comfort in, when she was so full of trouble, without
knowing that the wide atmosphere and fresh sky and bare trees, that
discharged, whenever the breath of the wind touched them, a sharp little
shower of rain-drops, were enough at her age to woo her out of the misery
which was not altogether personal, though she was so wound up in the lives
of all the sufferers. She escaped. That thought about the lover, which was
intended to be pathetic, beguiled her into a faint laugh under her breath; for
indeed it was amusing, if even only ruefully amusing, to be so unlike the
rest of the young world. That opened to her, as it were, the gate; and then
her imagination ran on, like the lawless, sweet young rover it was, to all
kinds of things amusing and wonderful. Those whose life is all to come,
what a playground they have to fly into when the outside is unharmonious!
how to fill up all those years; what to do in the time that is endless, that will
never be done; how to meet those strange events, those new persons, those
delights and wonders that are all waiting round the next and the next corner!
If she had thought of it she would have been ashamed of herself for this
very amusement, but fortunately she did not think of it, and so let herself
go, like the child she was. She took her intended walk through the park, and
then, as the morning was bright, after lingering at the gate a little, went out
into the road, and turned to the village without any particular intention,
because it was near and the red roofs shone in the light. It was a fresh,
bright morning, such as sometimes breaks the dulness of November. The
sky was as blue as summer, with wandering white cloudlets, and not a sign
of any harm, though there had been torrents of rain the night before. Indeed,
no doubt it was the pouring down of those torrents which had cleared away
the tinge of darkness from the clouds, which were as innocent and filmy
and light as if it had been June. Everything was glistening and gleaming
with wet, but that only made the country more bright, and as Rosalind
looked along the road, the sight of the red village with its smoke rising
ethereal into air so pure that it was a happiness to gaze into its limpid,
invisible depths, or rather heights, ending in heavens, was enough to cheer
any young soul. She went on, with a little sense of adventure, for though
she often went to the village, it was rare to this girl to have the privilege of
being absolutely alone. The fresh air, the glistening hedgerows, the village
roofs, in all the shining of the sunshine, pleased her so much that she did
not see till she was close to it a break in the road, where the water which
had submerged the low fields on either side had broken across the higher
ground, finding a sort of channel in a slight hollow of the road. The sight of
a laborer plashing through it, with but little thought, though it came up to
the top of his rough boots, arrested Rosalind all at once. What was she to
do? Her boots, though with the amount of high heel which only a most
independent mind can escape from, were clearly quite unequal to this
crossing. She could not but laugh to herself at the small matter which
stopped progress, and stood on the edge of it measuring the distance with
her eye, and calculating probabilities with a smiling face, amused by the
difficulty. While she stood thus she heard a voice behind her calling to the
laborer in front. “Hi!” some one said; “Hallo, you there! help me to lift this
log over the water, that the lady may cross.” The person appealed to turned
round, and so did Rosalind. And then she felt that here was indeed an
adventure. Behind her, stooping over some large logs of wood on the side of
the pathway, was the man who had looked so intently at the carriage the
other day when she passed with her stepmother. Before she saw his face she
was sure, with a little jump of her heart, that it was the same man. He was
dressed in dark tweed clothes, somewhat rough, which might have been the
garb of a gentleman or of a gamekeeper, and did not fit him well, which was
more like the latter than the former. She could see, as he stooped, his cheek
and throat reddened as with the unusual exertion.
“Oh, please do not take the trouble,” she cried; “it is of no consequence.
I have nothing to do in the village.”
“It is no trouble,” he said; and in a minute or two the logs were rolled
across the side path so that she could pass. The man who had been called
upon to help was one of the farm-laborers whom she knew. She thanked
him cheerfully by name, and turned to the stranger, who stood with his hat
off, his pale face, which she remembered to have been so pale that she
thought him ill, now covered with a brilliant flush which made his eyes
shine. Rosalind was startled by the beauty of the face, but it was not like
that of the men she was accustomed to see. Something feminine, something
delicate and weak, was in it.
“You are very kind to take so much trouble; but I am afraid you have
over-exerted yourself,” she cried.
This made the young man blush more deeply still.
“I am not very strong,” he said half indignantly, “but not so weak as
that.” There was a tone of petulance in the reply; and then he added,
“Whatever trouble it might be is more than repaid,” with a somewhat
elaborate bow.
What did it mean? The face was refined and full of expression, but then
probably he was not a gentleman, Rosalind thought, and did not understand.
She said hurriedly again, “I am very much obliged to you,” and went on, a
little troubled by the event. She heard him make a few steps after her. Was
he going to follow? In her surprise it was almost on her lips to call back
William from the farm.
“I beg your pardon,” said the stranger, “but may I take the liberty of
asking how is Mr. Trevanion? I heard he was worse last night.”
Rosalind turned round, half reassured.
“Oh, do you know papa?” she said. “He has been very ill all night, but
he is better, though terribly exhausted. He has had some sleep this
morning.”
She was elevated upon the log, which she had begun to cross, and thus
looked down upon the stranger. If he knew her father, that made all the
difference; and surely the face was one with which she was not unfamiliar.
“I do not know Mr. Trevanion, only one hears of him constantly in the
village. I am glad he is better.”
He hesitated, as if he too was about to mount the log.
“Oh, thank you,” said Rosalind, hurrying on.
 CHAPTER XII.
“To whom were you talking, Rosalind?”
“To—nobody, Uncle John!” she said, in her surprise at the sudden
question which came over her shoulder, and, turning round, waited till he
joined her. She had changed her mind and come back after she had crossed
the water upon the impromptu bridge, with a half apprehension that her new
acquaintance intended to accompany her to the village, and had, to tell the
truth, walked rather quickly to the park gates.
“But I met the man—a young fellow—whose appearance I don’t know.”
“Oh! I don’t know who it was either; a gentleman; at least, I suppose he
was a gentleman.”
“And yet you doubt. What cause had you to doubt?”
“Well, Uncle John, his voice was nice enough, and what he said. The
only thing was, he paid me a sort of a—compliment.”
“What was that?” said John Trevanion, quickly.
“Oh, nothing,” said Rosalind, inconsistently. “When I said I was sorry he
had taken the trouble, he said, ‘Oh, if it was any trouble it was repaid.’
Nothing at all! Only a gentleman would not have said that to a girl who was
—alone.”
“That is true; but it was not very much after all. Fashions change. A few
generations ago it would have been the right thing.” Then he dropped the
subject as a matter without importance, and drew his niece’s arm within his
own. “Rosie,” he said, “I am afraid we shall have to face the future, you and
I. What are we to do?”
“Are things so very bad, Uncle John?” she cried, and the tears came
welling up into her eyes as she raised them to his face.
“Very bad, I fear. This last attack has done him a great deal of harm,
more than any of the others; perhaps, because, as the doctor says, the pace
is quicker as he gets near the end, perhaps because he is still as angry as
ever, though he is not able to give it vent. I wonder if such fury may not
have some adequate cause.”
 “Oh, Uncle John!” Rosalind cried; she clasped her hands upon his arm,
looking up at him through her tears. He knew what was the meaning in her
tone, though it was a meaning very hard to put into words. A child cannot
say of her father when he is dying that his fury has often been without any
adequate cause.
“I know,” he said, “and I acknowledge that no one could have a more
devoted nurse. But whether there have not been concealments, clandestine
acts, things he has a right to find fault with—”
“Even I,” said Rosalind, hastily, “and I have nothing to hide—even I
have had to make secrets from papa.”
“That is the penalty, of course, of a temper so passionate. But she should
not have let you do so, Rosalind.”
“It was not she. You think everything is her fault; oh, how mistaken you
are! My mother and I,” cried the girl, impetuously, “have no secrets from
each other.”
John Trevanion looked into the young, ingenuous countenance with
anxiety: “Then, Rosalind,” he said, “where is it that she goes? Why does
she go out at that hour of all others, in the dark? Whom does she meet? If
you know all this, I think there cannot be another word to say; for nothing
that is not innocent would be intrusted to you.”
Rosalind was silent. She ceased to look at him, and even withdrew her
clasping hands from his arm.
“You have nothing to say? There it is: she has no secrets from you, and
yet you can throw no light on this one secret. I have always had a great
admiration and respect for your stepmother, Rosalind.”
“I wish you would not call her my stepmother! It hurts me. What other
mother have I ever known?”
“My dear, your love for her is a defence in itself. But, Rosalind, forgive
me, there is some complication here. If she will not explain, what are we to
do? A mystery is always a sign of something wrong; at least, it must be
taken for something wrong if it remains unexplained. I am, I hope, without
passion or prejudice. She might have confided in me—”
“If there was anything to confide,” Rosalind said under her breath. But
he went on.
 “And now your father has sent for his lawyer—to do something, to
change something. I can’t tell what he means to do, but it will be trouble in
any case. And you, Rosalind—I said so before, you—must not stay here.”
“If you mean that I am to leave my mother, Uncle John—”
“Hush! not your mother. My dear, you must allow others to judge for
you here. Had you been her child it would have been different: but we must
take thought for your best interests. Who is that driving in at the gate? Why,
it is Blake already. I wonder if a second summons has been sent. He was not
expected till to-morrow. This looks worse and worse, Rosalind.”
“Uncle John, if you will let me, I will run in another way. I—don’t wish
to meet Mr. Blake.”
“Hallo, Rosalind! you don’t mean to say that Charley Blake has ever
presumed— Ah! this comes of not having a mother’s care.”
“It is nothing of the kind,” she cried, drawing her hand violently from his
arm. “He hates her because she never would— Oh, how can you be so
cruel, so prejudiced, so unjust?” In her vehemence Rosalind pushed him
away from her with a force which made his steady, middle-aged figure
almost swerve, and darted across the park away from him just in time to
make it evident to Mr. Blake, driving his dog-cart quickly to make up to the
group in advance, that it was to avoid him Miss Trevanion had fled.
“How is he?” was the eager question he put as he came up to John
Trevanion. “I hope I am not too late.”
“For what? If it is my brother you mean, I hear he is a little better,” said
John, coldly.
“Then I suppose it is only one of his attacks,” the new-comer said, with a
slight tone of disappointment; not that he had any interest in the death of
Mr. Trevanion, but that the fall from the excitement of a great crisis to the
level of the ordinary is always disagreeable. “I thought from the telegram
this morning there was no time to lose.”
“Who sent you the telegram this morning?”
“Madam Trevanion, of course,” said the young man.
This reply took John Trevanion so much by surprise that he went on
without a word.
She knew very well what Blake’s visit portended to herself. But what a
strange, philosophical stoic was this woman, who did not hesitate herself to
summon, to hasten, lest he should lose the moment in which she could still
be injured, the executioner of her fate. A sort of awe came over John. He
begun to blame himself for his miserable doubts of such a woman. There
was something in this silent impassioned performance of everything
demanded from her that impressed the imagination. After a few minutes’
slow pacing along, restraining his horse, Blake threw the reins to his groom,
and, jumping down, walked on by John Trevanion’s side.
“I suppose there is no such alarming hurry, then,” he said. “Of course
you know what’s up now?”
“If you mean what are my brother’s intentions, I know nothing about
them,” John said.
“No more do I. I can’t think what he’s got in his mind; though we have
been very confidential over it all.” Mr. Blake elder was an old-fashioned
and polite old gentleman, but his son belonged to another world, and
pushed his way by means of a good deal of assurance and no regard to any
one’s feelings. “It would be a great assistance to me,” he said, “if he’s going
to tamper with that will again, to know how the land lies. What is wrong?
There must have been, by all I hear, a great flare-up.”
“Will you remember, Blake, that you are speaking of my brother’s
affairs? We are not in the habit of having flares-up here.”
“I mean no offence,” said the other. “It’s a lie, then, that is flying about
the country.”
“What is flying about the country? If it is about a flare-up you may be
sure it is a lie.”
“I don’t stand upon the word,” said Blake. “I thought I might speak
frankly to you. Rumors are flying everywhere—that Mr. Trevanion is out of
one fit into another—dying of it—and that Madam—”
“What of Madam?” said John Trevanion, firmly.
“I have myself the greatest respect for Mrs. Trevanion,” said the lawyer,
making a sudden pause.
“You would be a bold man if you expressed any other sentiment here;
but rumor has not the same reverential and perfectly just feeling, I suppose.
What has it ventured to say of my sister?”
John Trevanion, with all his gravity, was very impulsive; and the sense
that her secret, whatever it was, had been betrayed, bound him at once to
her defence. He had probably never called her his sister before.
“Of course it is all talk,” said Blake. “I dare say the story means nothing;
but knowing as I do so much about the state of affairs generally—a lawyer,
you know, like a doctor, and people used to say a clergyman—”
“Is bound to hold his tongue, is he not?” John Trevanion said.
“Oh, as for that, a member of the family is not like a stranger. I took it
for granted you would naturally be on the injured husband’s side.”
“Mr. Blake,” said John, “you make assumptions which would be
intolerable even to a stranger, and to a brother and friend, understanding the
whole matter, I hope, a little better than you do, they are not less so, but
more. Look here; a lawyer has this advantage, that he is sometimes able to
calm the disordered fancy of a sick man, and put things in a better light.
Take care what you do. Don’t let the last act of his life be an injustice if you
can help it. Your father—if your father were here—”
“Would inspire Mr. John Trevanion with more confidence,” said the
other, with a suppressed sneer. “It is unfortunate, but that is not your
brother’s opinion. He has preferred the younger man, as some do.”
“I hope you will justify his choice,” said John Trevanion, gravely. “It is a
great responsibility. To make serious changes in a moment of passion is
always dangerous—and, remember, my brother will in all probability have
no time to repent.”
“The responsibility will be Mr. Trevanion’s, not mine,” said Blake. “You
should warn him, not me. His brother must have more constant access to
him than even his family lawyer, and is in a better position. I am here to
execute his wishes; that is all that I have to do with it.”
John Trevanion bowed without a word. It was true enough. The elder
Blake would perhaps have been of still less use in stemming the passionate
tide of the sick man’s fury, but at least he would have struggled against it.
They walked up to the house almost without exchanging another word. In
the hall they were met by Madam Trevanion, upon whom the constant
watching had begun to tell. Her eyes were red, and there were deep lines
under them. All the lines of her face were drawn and haggard. She met the
new-comer with an anxious welcome, as if he had been a messenger of
good and not of evil.
“I am very glad you have come, Mr. Blake. Thank you for being so
prompt. My husband perhaps, after he has seen you, will be calmer and able
to rest. Will you come to his room at once?”
If he had been about to secure her a fortune she could not have been
more anxious to introduce him. She came back to the hall after she had led
him to Mr. Trevanion’s room.
“I am restless,” she said; “I cannot be still. Do you know, for the first
time he has sent me away. He will not have me with him. Before, whatever
he might have against me was forgotten when he needed me. God grant that
this interview he is so anxious for may compose him and put things on their
old footing.”
Perhaps it was only her agitation and distress, but as she spoke the tears
came and choked her voice. John Trevanion came up to her, and laying his
hands upon her shoulders gazed into her face.
“Grace,” he said, “is it possible that you can be sincere?”
“Sincere!” she cried, looking at him with a strange incomprehension.
She had no room in her mind for metaphysical questions, and she was
impatient of them at such a crisis of fate.
“Yes, sincere. You know that man has come for some evil purpose.
Whatever they say or do together it will be to your hurt, you know; and yet
you hasten his coming, and tell him you are glad when he arrives—”
“And you think it must be false? No, it is not false, John,” she said, with
a faint smile. “So long as he does it and gets it off his mind, what is it to
me? Do you know that he is perhaps dying? I have nursed him and been the
only one that he would have near him for years. Do you think I care what
happens after? But I cannot bear to be put out of my own place now.”
“Your own place! to bear all his caprices and abuse!”
“My own place, by my husband’s bedside,” she said with tears. “When
he has done whatever he wants to do his mind will be relieved. And I can do
more for him than any one. He shortens his own life when he sends me
away.”
 CHAPTER XIII.
The house was in a curious commotion up-stairs. The nursery
apartments were at the end of a passage, but on the same level with those of
Mrs. Trevanion, in which Jane, Madam’s attendant and anxious maid, was
watching—coming out now and then to listen, or standing within the shelter
of the half-closed door. Mrs. Trevanion’s room opened into the gallery to
which the great staircase led, and from which you could look down into the
hall. The nursery was at the end of a long passage, and, when the door was
open, commanded also a view of the gallery. There many an evening when
there was fine company at Highcourt had the children pressed to see the
beautiful ladies coming out in their jewels and finery, dressed for dinner.
The spectacle now was not so imposing, but Russell, seated near the door,
watched it with concentrated interest. She was waiting too to see what
would happen, with excitement indescribable and some terror and sense of
guilt. Sometimes Jane would do nothing more than open her mistress’s
door, and wait within for any sound or sight that might be possible.
Sometimes she would step out with a furtive, noiseless step upon the
gallery, and cast a quick look round and below into the hall, then return
again noiselessly. Russell watched all these evidences of an anxiety as
intense as her own with a sense of relief and encouragement. Jane was as
eager as she was, watching over her mistress. Why was she thus watching?
If Madam had been blameless, was it likely that any one would be on the
alert like this? Russell herself was very sure of her facts. She had collected
them with the care which hatred takes to verify its accusations; and yet cold
doubts would trouble her, and she was relieved to see her opponent, the
devoted adherent of the woman whose well-being was at stake, in a state of
so much perturbation and anxiety. It was another proof, more potent than
any of the rest. The passage which led to Russell’s domain was badly
lighted, and she could not be seen as she sat there at her post like a spy. She
watched with an intense passion which concentrated all her thoughts. When
she heard the faint little jar of the door she brightened involuntarily. The
figure of Jane—slim, dark, noiseless—standing out upon the gallery was
comfort to her very soul. The children were playing near. Sophy, perched up
at the table, was cutting out pictures from a number of illustrated papers and
pasting them into a book, an occupation which absorbed her. The two
younger children were on the floor, where they went on with their play,
babbling to each other, conscious of nothing else. It had begun to rain, and
they were kept indoors perforce. A more peaceful scene could not be. The
fire, surrounded by the high nursery fender, burned warmly and brightly. In
the background, at a window which looked out upon the park, the nursery-
maid—a still figure, like a piece of still life but for the measured movement
of her hand—sat sewing. The little ones interchanged their eager little
volleys of talk. They were “pretending to be” some of the actors in the
bigger drama of life that went on over their heads. But their little
performance was only Comedy, and it was Tragedy incarnate, with hands
trembling too much to knit the little sock which she held, with dry lips
parted with excitement, eyes feverish and shining, and an impassioned
sense of power, of panic, and of guilt, that sat close to them in her cap and
apron at the open door.
When Rosalind’s figure flitted across the vacant scene, which was like
the stage of a theatre to Russell, her first impulse was to start up and secure
this visitor from the still more important field of battle below, so as to
procure the last intelligence how things were going; and it was with a
deepened sense of hostility, despite, and excitement that she now saw her
approached by the rival watcher. Jane arrested the young lady on her way to
her room, and they had an anxious conversation, during which first one and
then both approached the railing of the gallery and looked over. It was all
that the woman could do to restrain herself. What were they looking at?
What was going on? It is seldom that any ordinary human creature has the
consciousness of having set such tremendous forces in motion. It might
involve ruin to her mistress, death to her master. The children whom she
loved might be orphaned by her hand. But she was not conscious of
anything deeper than a latent, and not painful, though exciting, thrill of
guilt, and she was very conscious of the exultation of feeling herself an
important party in all that was going on. What had she done? Nothing but
her duty. She had warned a man who was being deceived; she had exposed
a woman who had always kept so fair an appearance, but whom she, more
clear-sighted than any one, had suspected from the first. Was she not right
in every point, doing her duty to Mr. Trevanion and the house that had
sheltered her so long? Was not she indeed the benefactor of the house,
preserving it from shame and injury? So she said to herself, justifying her
own actions with an excitement which betrayed a doubt; and in the
meantime awaiting the result with passionate eagerness, incapable of a
thought that did not turn round this centre— What was to happen? Was
there an earthquake, a terrible explosion, about to burst forth? The stillness
was ominous and dreadful to the watching woman who had put all these
powers in motion. She feared yet longed for the first sound of the coming
outburst; and yet all the while had a savage exultation in her heart in the
thought of having been able to bring the whole world about her to such a
crisis of fate.
Jane in the meantime had stopped Rosalind, who was breathless with her
run across the park. The woman was much agitated and trembling. “Miss
Rosalind,” she said, with pale lips, “is there something wrong? I see Madam
in the hall; she is not with master, and he so ill. Oh! what is wrong—what is
wrong?”
“I don’t know, Jane; nothing, I hope. Papa is perhaps asleep, and there is
some one— Mr. Blake—come to see him. My mother is waiting till he is
gone.”
“Oh! that is perhaps why she is there,” said Jane, with relief; then she
caught the girl timidly by the arm. “You will forgive me, Miss Rosalind; she
has enemies—there are some who would leave nothing undone to harm
her.”
“To harm mamma!” said Rosalind, holding her head high; “you forget
yourself, Jane. Who would harm her in this house?”
Jane gave the girl a look which was full of gratitude, yet of miserable
apprehension. “You will always be true to her, Miss Rosalind,” she said;
“and oh, you have reason, for she has been a good mother to you.”
Rosalind looked at the woman somewhat sternly, for she was proud in
her way. “If I did not know how fond you are of mamma,” she said, “I
should be angry. Does any one ever talk so of mother and daughter? That is
all a matter of course; both that she is the best mother in the world, and that
I am part of herself.”
Upon this Jane did what an Englishwoman is very slow to do. She got
hold of Rosalind’s hand, and made a struggle to kiss it, with tears. “Oh,
Miss Rosalind, God bless you! I’d rather hear that than have a fortune left
me,” she cried. “And my poor lady will want it all; she will want it all!”
 “Don’t be silly, Jane. My mother wants nothing but that we should have
a little sense. What can any one do against her, unless it is you and the rest
annoying her by foolish anxiety about nothing. Indeed, papa is very ill, and
there is reason enough to be anxious,” the girl added, after a pause.
In the meantime Madam Trevanion sat alone in the hall below. She
received Blake, when he arrived, as we have seen, and she had a brief
conversation with her brother-in-law, which agitated her a little. But when
he left her, himself much agitated and not knowing what to think, she sat
down again and waited, alone and unoccupied; a thing that scarcely ever in
her full life happened to her. She, too, felt the stillness before the tempest. It
repeated itself in her mind in a strange, fatal calm, a sort of cessation of all
emotion. She had said to John Trevanion that she did not care what came
after; and she did not; yet the sense that something was being done which
would seriously affect her future life, even though she was not susceptible
of much feeling on the subject, made the moment impressive. Calm and
strong, indeed, must the nerves be of one who can wait outside the closed
door of a room in which her fate is being decided, without a thrill. But a
sort of false tranquillity—or was it perhaps the calmest of all moods, the
stillness of despair?—came on her as she waited. There is a despair which is
passion, and raves; but there is a different kind of despair, not called forth
by any great practical danger, but by a sense of the impossibilities of life,
the powerlessness of human thought or action, which is very still and says
little. The Byronic desperation is very different from that which comes into
the heart of a woman when she stands still amid the irreconcilable forces of
existence and feels herself helpless amid contending wills, circumstances,
powers, which she can neither harmonize nor overcome. The situation in
which she stood was impossible. She saw no way out of it. The sharp sting
of her present uselessness, and the sense that she had been for the first time
turned away from her husband’s bedside, had given a momentary poignancy
to her emotions which roused her, but as that died away she sat and looked
her position in the face with a calm that was appalling. This was what she
had come to at the end of seventeen years—that her position was
impossible. She did not know how to turn or what step to take. On either
side of her was a mind that did not comprehend and a heart that did not feel
for her. She could neither touch nor convince the beings upon whom her
very existence depended. Andromeda, waiting for the monster to devour
her, had at least the danger approaching but from one quarter, and, on the
other, always the possibility of a Perseus in shining armor to cleave the
skies. But Madam had on either side of her an insatiable fate, and no help,
she thought, on earth or in heaven. For there comes a moment in the
experience of all who have felt very deeply, when Heaven, too, seems to
fail. Praying long, with no visible reply, drains out the heart. There seems
nothing more left to say even to God, no new argument to employ with him,
who all the while knows better than he can be told. And there she was, still,
silent in her soul as well as with her lips, waiting, with almost a sense of
ease in the thought that there was nothing more to be done, not even a
prayer to be said, her heart, her thoughts, her wishes, all standing arrested as
before an impenetrable wall which stopped all effort. And how still the
house was! All the doors closed, the sounds of the household lost in the
distance of long passages and shut doors and curtains; nothing to disturb the
stillness before the tempest should burst. She was not aware of the anxious
looks of her maid, now and then peering over the balustrade of the gallery
above, for Jane’s furtive footstep made no sound upon the thick carpet.
Through the glass door she saw the clear blue of the sky, radiant in the
wintry sunshine, but still, as wintry brightness is, without the flickers of
light and shadow. And thus the morning hours went on.
A long time, it seemed a lifetime, passed before her repose was
disturbed. It had gradually got to be like an habitual state, and she was
startled to be called back from it. The heavy curtain was lifted, and first Mr.
Blake, then Dr. Beaton, came forth. The first looked extremely grave and
disturbed, as he came out with a case of papers which he had brought with
him in his hand. He looked at Mrs. Trevanion with a curious, deprecating
air, like that of a man who has injured another unwillingly. They had never
been friends, and Madam had shown her sentiments very distinctly as to
those overtures of admiration which the young lawyer had taken upon
himself to make to Rosalind. The politeness he showed to her on ordinary
occasions was the politeness of hostility. But now he looked at her alarmed,
as if he could not support her glance, and would fain have avoided the sight
of her altogether. Dr. Beaton, on the other hand, came forward briskly.
“I have just been called in to our patient,” he said, “and you are very
much wanted, Mrs. Trevanion.”
“Does he want me?” she said.
 “I think so—certainly. You are necessary to him; I understand your
delicacy in being absent while Mr. Blake—”
“Do not deceive yourself, doctor; it was not my delicacy.”
“Come, please,” said the doctor, almost impatiently; “come at once.”
Blake stood looking after them till both disappeared behind the curtain,
then drew a long breath, as if relieved by her departure. “I wonder if she has
any suspicion,” he said to himself. Then he made a long pause and walked
about the hall, and considered the pictures with the eye of a man who might
have to look over the inventory of them for sale. Then he added to himself,
“What an old devil!” half aloud. Of whom it was that he uttered this
sentiment no one could tell, but it came from the bottom of his heart.
Madam did not leave the sick-chamber again that day. She did not
appear at luncheon, for which perhaps the rest were thankful, as she was
herself. How to look her in the face, with this mingled doubt of her and
respect for her, nobody knew. Rosalind alone was disappointed. The doctor
took everything into his own hands. He was now the master of the situation,
and ruled everybody. “She is the best woman I ever knew,” he said, with
fervor. “I would rather trust her with a case than any Sister in the land. I
said to her that I thought she would do better to stay. Mr. Trevanion was
very glad to get her back.”
 CHAPTER XIV.
As so often happens when all is prepared and ready for the catastrophe,
the stroke of fate was averted. That night proved better than the last, and
then there passed two or three quiet days. It was even possible, the doctor
thought, that the alarm might be a false one, and the patient go on, if
tranquil and undisturbed, until, in the course of nature, another crisis
prepared itself or external commotion accelerated nature. He had received
his wife back after her few hours’ banishment with a sort of chuckling
satisfaction, and though even his reduced and enfeebled state did not make
him incapable of offence, the insulting remarks he addressed to her were no
more than his ordinary method. Madam said nothing of them; she seemed,
strangely enough, glad to return to her martyrdom. It was better, it
appeared, than the sensation of being sent away. She was with him, without
rest or intermission, the whole day and a great portion of the night. The two
or three hours allowed her for repose were in the middle of the night, and
she never stirred abroad nor tasted the fresh air through this period of
confinement. The drives which had been her daily refreshment were
stopped, along with every other possibility of freedom. In the meantime
there appeared something like a fresh development of confidence and
dependence upon her, which wrung the heart of the enemy in her
stronghold, and made Russell think her work had been all in vain. Mr.
Trevanion could not, it was said, bear his wife out of his sight.
It is a mistake when a dying person thus keeps all his world waiting. The
sympathetic faculties are worn out. The household in general felt a slight
sensation of resentment towards the sick man who had cheated them into so
much interest. It was not as if he had been a man whom his dependents
loved, and he had defrauded them of that profound and serious interest with
which the last steps of any human creature—unless in a hospital or other
agglomeration of humanity, where individual characteristics are abolished
—are accompanied. The servants, who had with a little awe attended the
coming of death, were half disappointed, half disgusted by the delay. Even
John Trevanion, who had made up his mind very seriously and somewhat
against his own convictions to wait “till all was over,” had a sensation of
annoyance: he might go on for weeks, perhaps for months, all the winter
—“thank God!” they said, mechanically; but John could not help thinking
how inconvenient it would be to come back—to hang on all the winter,
never able to go anywhere. It would have been so much more considerate to
get it over at once, but Reginald was never one who considered other
people’s convenience. Dr. Beaton, who had no desire to leave Highcourt,
and who, besides, had a doctor’s satisfaction in a successful fight with
disease, took it much more pleasantly. He rubbed his hands and expressed
his hopes of “pulling” his patient through, with much unnecessary
cordiality. “Let us but stave off all trouble till spring, and there is no saying
what may happen,” he said, jauntily. “The summer will be all in his favor,
and before next winter we may get him away.” The younger members of the
family took this for granted. Reginald, who had been sent for from school,
begged his mother another time to be sure there was some real need for it
before summoning a fellow home in the middle of the half; and Rosalind
entirely recovered her spirits. The cloud that had hung over the house
seemed about to melt away. Nobody was aware of the agitating conferences
which Jane held with her mistress in the few moments when they saw each
other; or the miserable anxiety which contended in Madam’s mind with her
evident and necessary duties. She had buried her troubles too long in her
own bosom to exhibit them now. And thus the days passed slowly away; the
patient had not yet been allowed to leave his bed, and, indeed, was in a state
of alarming feebleness, but that was all.
Rosalind was left very much to herself during these days. She had now
no longer any one to go out with. Sometimes, indeed, her uncle would
propose a walk, but that at the most occupied but a small part of the day,
and all her usual occupations had been suspended in the general excitement.
She took to wandering about the park, where she could stray alone as much
as pleased her, fearing no intrusion. A week or ten days after the visit of Mr.
Blake, she was walking near the lake which was the pride of Highcourt. In
summer the banks of this piece of water were a mass of flowering shrubs,
and on the little artificial island in the middle was a little equally artificial
cottage, the creation of Rosalind’s grandmother, where still the children in
summer would often go to have tea. One or two boats lay at a little landing-
place for the purpose of transporting visitors, and it was one of the
pleasures of the neighborhood, when the family were absent, to visit the
Bijou, as it was called. At one end of the little lake was a road leading from
the village, to which the public of the place had a right. It was perhaps out
of weariness with the monotony of her lonely walks that Rosalind directed
her steps that way on an afternoon when all was cold and clear, an orange-
red sunset preparing in the west, and indications of frost in the air. The lake
caught the reflection of the sunset blaze and was all barred with crimson
and gold, with the steely blue of its surface coming in around and
intensifying every tint. Rosalind walked slowly round the margin of the
water, and thought of the happy afternoons when the children and their
mother had been rowed across, she herself and Rex taking the control of the
boat. The water looked tempting, with its bars of color, and the little red
roof of the Bijou blazed in the slanting light. She played with the boats at
the landing-place, pushing one into the water with a half fancy to push forth
into the lake, until it had got almost too far off to be pulled back again, and
gave her some trouble, standing on the edge of the tiny pier with an oar in
her hand, to bring it back to its little anchorage. She was standing thus, her
figure relieved against the still, shining surface of the water, when she heard
a footstep behind her, and thinking it the man who had charge of the cottage
and the boats, called to him without turning round, “Come here, Dunmore; I
have loosed this boat and I can’t get it back—”
The footstep advanced with a certain hesitation. Then an unfamiliar
voice said, “I am not Dunmore—but if you will allow me to help you—”
She started and turned round. It was the same stranger whom she had
already twice seen on the road. “Oh! pray don’t let me trouble you.
Dunmore will be here directly,” she said.
This did not, however, prevent the young man from rendering the
necessary assistance. He got into one of the nearer boats, and stretching out
from the bow of it, secured the stray pinnace. It was not a dangerous act,
nor even one that gave the passer-by much trouble, but Rosalind, partly out
of a sense that she had been ungracious, partly, perhaps—who can tell—out
of the utter monotony of all around her, thanked him with eagerness. “I am
sorry to give you trouble,” she said again.
“It is no trouble, it is a pleasure.” Was he going to be so sensible, so
judicious, as to go away after this? He seemed to intend so. He put on his
hat after bowing to her, and turned away, but then there seemed to be an
after-thought which struck him. He turned back again, took off his hat
again, and said: “I beg your pardon, but may I ask for Mr. Trevanion? The
village news is so uncertain.”
 “My father is still very ill,” said Rosalind, “but it is thought there is now
some hope.”
“That is good news indeed,” the stranger said. Certainly he had a most
interesting face. It could not be possible that a man with such a countenance
was “not a gentleman,” that most damning of all sentences. His face was
refined and delicate; his eyes large, liquid, full of meaning, which was
increased by the air of weakness which made them larger and brighter than
eyes in ordinary circumstances. And certainly it was kind of him to be glad.
“Oh, yes, you told me before you knew my father,” Rosalind said.
“I cannot claim to know Mr. Trevanion; but I do know a member of the
family very well, and I have heard of him all my life.”
Rosalind was no more afraid of a young man than of an old woman, and
she thought she had been unjust to this stranger, who, after all,
notwithstanding his rough dress, had nothing about him to find fault with.
She said, “Yes; perhaps my Uncle John? In any case I am much obliged to
you, both for helping me and for your interest in papa.”
“May I sometimes ask how he is? The villagers are so vague.”
“Oh, certainly,” said Rosalind; “they have a bulletin at the lodge, or if
you care to come so far as Highcourt, you will always have the last report.”
“You are very kind, I will not come to the house. But I know that you
often walk in the park. If I may ask you when we—chance to meet?”
This suggestion startled Rosalind. It awoke in her again that vague alarm
—not, perhaps, a gentleman. But when she looked at the eyes which were
searching hers with so sensitive a perception of every shade of expression,
she became confused and did not know what to think. He was so quickly
sensible of every change that he saw he had taken a wrong step. He ought to
have gone further, and perceived what the wrong step was, but she thought
he was puzzled and did not discover this instinctively, as a gentleman would
have done. She withdrew a step or two involuntarily. “Oh, no,” she said
with gentle dignity, “I do not always walk the same way; but you may be
sure of seeing the bulletin at the lodge.” And with this she made him a
courtesy and walked away, not hurrying, to show any alarm, but taking a
path which was quite out of the way of the public, and where he could not
follow. Rosalind felt a little thrill of agitation in her as she went home. Who
could he be, and what did he do here, and why did he throw himself in her
way? If she had been a girl of a vulgarly romantic imagination, she would
no doubt have jumped at the idea of a secret adoration which had brought
him to the poor little village for her sake, for the chance of a passing
encounter. But Rosalind was not of this turn of imagination, and that
undefined doubt which wavered in her mind did a great deal to damp the
wings of any such fancy. What he had said was almost equal to asking her
to meet him in the park. She blushed all over at the thought—at the curious
impossibility of it, the want of knowledge. It did not seem an insult to her,
but such an incomprehensible ignorance in him that she was ashamed of it;
that he should have been capable of such a mistake. Not a gentleman! Oh,
surely he could never, never— And yet the testimony of those fine, refined
features—the mouth so delicate and sensitive, the eyes so eloquent—was of
such a different kind. And was it Uncle John he knew? But Uncle John had
passed him on the road and had not known him. It was very strange
altogether. She could not banish the beautiful, pleading eyes out of her
mind. How they looked at her! They were almost a child’s eyes in their
uncertainty and wistfulness, reading her face to see how far to go. And
altogether he had the air of extreme youth, almost as young as herself,
which, of course, in a man is boyhood. For what is a man of twenty? ten
years, and more, younger and less experienced than a woman of that sober
age. There was a sort of yearning of pity in her heart towards him, just
tempered by that doubt. Poor boy! how badly he must have been brought up
—how sadly ignorant not to know that a gentleman— And then she began
to remember Lord Lytton’s novels, some of which she had read. There
would have been nothing out of place in them had such a youth so
addressed a lady. He was, indeed, not at all unlike a young man in Lord
Lytton. He interested her very much, and filled her mind as she went lightly
home. Who could he be, and why so anxious about her father’s health? or
was that merely a reason for addressing her—a way, perhaps he thought, of
securing her acquaintance, making up some sort of private understanding
between them. Had not Rosalind heard somewhere that a boy was opt to
select a much older woman as the object of his first admiration? Perhaps
that might furnish an explanation for it, for he must be very young, not
more than a boy.
When she got home her first step into the house was enough to drive
every thought of this description out of her mind. She was aware of the
change before she could ask—before she saw even a servant of whom to
inquire. The hall, all the rooms, were vacant. She could find nobody, until,
coming back after an ineffectual search, she met Jane coming away from
the sick-room, carrying various things that had been used there. Jane shook
her head in answer to Rosalind’s question. “Oh, very bad again—worse
than ever. No one can tell what has brought it on. Another attack, worse
than any he has had. I think, Miss Rosalind,” Jane said, drawing close with
a tremulous shrill whisper, “it was that dreadful woman that had got in
again the moment my poor lady’s back was turned.”
“What dreadful woman?”
“Oh, Russell, Miss Rosalind. My poor lady came out of the room for
five minutes— I don’t think it was five minutes. She was faint with fatigue;
and all at once we heard a cry. Oh, it was not master, it was that woman.
There she was, lying at the room door in hysterics, or whatever you call
them. And the spasms came on again directly. I pushed her out of my lady’s
way; she may be lying there yet, for anything I know. This time he will
never get better, Miss Rosalind,” Jane said.
“Oh, do not say so—do not say so,” the girl cried. He had not been a
kind father nor a generous master. But such was the awe of it, and the
quivering sympathy of human nature, that even the woman wept as
Rosalind threw herself upon her shoulder. The house was full of the
atmosphere of death.
 CHAPTER XV.
Russell meant no harm to her master. In the curious confusion which
one passionate feeling brings into an undisciplined mind, she had even
something that might be called affection for Mr. Trevanion, as the victim of
the woman she hated. Something that she called regard for him was the
justification in her own mind of her furious antipathy to his wife. And after
all her excitement and suspense, to be compelled to witness what seemed to
her the triumph of Madam, the quieting down of all suspicions, and her
return, as more than ever indispensable, to the bedside of her husband,
drove the woman almost to madness. How she lived through the week and
executed her various duties, as in ordinary times, she did not know. The
children suffered more or less, but not so much as might be supposed. For
to Russell’s perverted perception the children were hers more than their
mother’s, and she loved them in her way, while she hated Mrs. Trevanion.
Indeed, the absorption of Madam in the sick-room left them very much in
Russell’s influence, and, on the surface, more evidently attached to her than
to the mother of whom they saw so little. If they suffered from the
excitement that disturbed her temper, as well as other things, it was in a
very modified degree, and they were indulged and caressed by moments, as
much as they were hustled and scolded at others. The nursery-maids,
indeed, found Russell unbearable, and communicated to each other their
intention to complain as soon as Madam could be supposed able to listen to
them; if not, to give notice at once. But they did not tell for very much in
the house, and the nurse concealed successfully enough from all but them
the devouring excitement which was in her. It was the afternoon hour, when
nature is at its lowest, and when excitement and suspense are least
supportable, that Russell found her next opportunity. She had gone down-
stairs, seeking she knew not what—looking for something new—a little
relief to the strain of suspense, when she suddenly saw the door of the sick-
room open and Mrs. Trevanion come out. She did not stop to ask herself
what she was to gain by risking an outbreak of fury from her master, and of
blame and reproach from every side, by intruding upon the invalid. The
temptation was too strong to be resisted. She opened the door without
leaving herself time to think, and went in.
 Then terror seized her. Mr. Trevanion was propped up in his bed, a pair
of fiery, twinkling eyes, full of the suspicion and curiosity that were natural
to him, peering out of the skeleton head, which was ghastly with illness and
emaciation. Nothing escaped the fierce vitality of those eyes. He saw the
movement of the door, the sudden apparition of the excited face, at first so
eager and curious, then blanched with terror. He was himself comparatively
at ease, in a moment of vacancy in which there was neither present
suffering enough to occupy him, nor anything else to amuse his restless
soul. “Hallo!” he cried, as soon as he saw her; “come in—come in. You
have got something more to tell me? Faithful woman—faithful to your
master! Come in; there is just time before Madam comes back to hear what
you have to say.”
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said the valet, who had taken Madam’s place,
“but the doctor’s orders is—”
“What do I care for the doctor’s orders? Get out of the way and let
Russell in. Here, woman, you have got news for me. A faithful servant, who
won’t conceal from her master what he ought to know. Out, Jenkins, and let
the woman come in.”
He raised himself up higher in his bed; the keen angles of his knees
seemed to rise to his chin. He waved impatiently his skeleton hands. The
valet made wild signs at the intruder. “Can’t you go away? You’ll kill him!”
he cried in a hoarse whisper. “Come in—come in!” shrieked the skeleton in
the bed, in all the excitement of opposition. Then it was that Russell,
terrified, helpless, distracted, gave that cry which echoed through all the
house, and brought Dr. Beaton rushing from one side and Mrs. Trevanion
from the other. The woman had fallen at the door of the room in hysterics,
as Jane said, a seizure for which all the attendants, absorbed in a more
immediate danger, felt the highest contempt. She was pushed out of the
way, to be succored by the maids, who had been brought by the cry into the
adjacent passage, in high excitement to know what was going on. But
Russell could not throw any light upon what had happened even when she
came to herself. She could only sob and cry, with starts of nervous panic.
She had done nothing, and yet what had she done? She had not said a word
to him, and yet— It was soon understood throughout all the house that Mr.
Trevanion had another of his attacks, and that Dr. Beaton did not think he
could ever rally again.
 The room where the patient lay was very large and open. It had once
been the billiard-room of the house, and had been prepared for him when it
was found no longer expedient that he should go up and down even the
easy, luxuriously carpeted stairs of Highcourt. There was one large window
filling almost one side of the room, without curtains or even blind, and
which was now thrown open to admit the air fully. The door, too, was open,
and the draught of fresh, cold, wintry air blowing through made it more like
a hillside than a room in a sheltered house. Notwithstanding this, Mrs.
Trevanion stood by the bed, waving a large fan, to get more air into the
panting and struggling lungs. On the other side of the bed the doctor stood,
with the bony wrist of the patient in his warm, living grasp. It seemed to be
Death in person with whom these anxious ministrants were struggling,
rather than a dying man. Other figures flitted about in the background, Jane
bringing, with noiseless understanding, according to the signs the doctor
made to her, the things he wanted—now a spoonful of stimulant, now water
to moisten his lips. Dead silence reigned in the room; the wind blew
through, fluttering a bit of paper on the table; the slight beat of the fan kept
a vibration in the air. Into this terrible scene Rosalind stole trembling, and
after her her uncle; they shivered with the chill blast which swept over the
others unnoticed, and still more with the sight of the gasping and struggle.
Rosalind, unused to suffering, hid her face in her hands. She could do
nothing. Jane, who knew what was wanted, was of more use than she. She
stood timidly at the foot of the bed, now looking up for a moment at what
she could see of her dying father, now at the figure of his wife against the
light, never intermitting for a moment her dreadful, monotonous exercise.
Mr. Trevanion was seated almost upright in the midst of his pillows,
laboring in that last terrible struggle for breath, for death, not for life.
He had cried out at first in broken gasps for “The woman—the woman!
She’s got something—to tell me. Something more—to tell me. I’ll hear it—
I’ll he-ar it— I’ll know—everything!” he now shrieked, waving his
skeleton arms to keep them away, and struggling to rise. But these efforts
soon gave way to the helplessness of nature. His cries soon sank into a
hoarse moaning, his struggles to an occasional wave with his arms towards
the door, an appeal with his eyes to the doctor, who stood over him
inexorable. Every agitating movement had dropped before Rosalind came
in into the one grand effort for breath. That was all that was left him in this
world to struggle for. A man of so many passions, who had got everything
he had set his heart on in life: a little breath now, which the November
breeze, the winnowing of the air by the great fan, every aid that could be
used, could not bring to his panting lungs. Who can describe the moment
when nurses and watchers, and children and lovers stand thus awed and
silent, seeing the struggle turn into a fight for death—not against it: feeling
their own hearts turn, and their prayers, to that which hitherto they have
been resisting with all that love and skill and patience can do? Nature is
strong at such a time. Few remember that the central figure has been an
unkind husband, a careless father; they remember only that he is going
away from them into darkness unfathomable, which they can never
penetrate till they follow; that he is theirs, but soon will be theirs no more.
Then there occurred a little pause; for the first moment Dr. Beaton, with
a lifted finger and eyes suddenly turned upon the others, was about to say,
“All is over,” when a faintly renewed throb of the dying pulse under his
finger contradicted him. There was a dead calm for a few moments, and
then a faint rally. The feverish, eager eyes, starting out of their sockets,
seemed to calm, and glance with something like a dim perception at John
Trevanion and Rosalind, who approached. Rosalind, entirely overcome by
emotion and the terrible excitement of witnessing such an event, dropped
down on her knees by the bedside, where with a slight flickering of the
eyelids her father’s look seemed to follow her. But in the act that look was
arrested by the form of his wife, standing always in the same position,
waving the fan, sending wafts of air to him, the last and only thing he now
wanted. His eyes steadied then with a certain meaning in them—a last
gleam which gradually strengthened. He looked at her fixedly, with what in
a person less exhausted would have been a wave of the hand towards her.
Then there was a faint movement of the lips. “John!” was it perhaps? or
“Look!” Then the words became more audible. “She’s—good nurse—
faithful— Air!—stands—hours—but—” Then the look softened a little, the
voice grew stronger; “I’m—almost—sorry—” it said.
For what—for what? In the intense stillness every feeble syllable was
heard. Only a minute or two more was left to make amends for the cruelty
of a life. The spectators held their breath. As for the wife, whose life
perhaps hung upon these syllables as much as his did, she never moved or
spoke, but went on fanning, fanning, supplying to him these last billows of
air for which he labored. Suddenly a change came over the dying face, the