East Lynne [93]
hand and drawing her to her again. "I do not give myself the dreams; I cannot prevent their making me sick, prostrate, feverish. How can I help these things, I ask?"
At this moment the bedroom door was flung open, and the face of the justice, especially stern and cross then was pushed in. So startled was Mrs. Hare, that she shook till she shook the pillow, and Barbara sprang away from the bed. Surely he had not distinguished their topic of conversation!
"Are you coming to make the breakfast to-day, or not Barbara? Do you expect me to make it?"
"She is coming this instant, Richard," said Mrs. Hare, her voice more faint than usual. And the justice turned and stamped down again.
"Barbara, could your papa have heard me mention Richard?"
"No, no, mamma impossible: the door was shut. I will bring up your breakfast myself and then you can tell me the dream."
Barbara flew after Mr. Hare, poured out his coffee, saw him settled at his breakfast, with a plateful of grouse-pie before him, and then returned upstairs with her mamma's tea and dry toast.
"Go on with your dream, mamma," she said.
"But your breakfast will be cold, child."
"Oh, don't mind that. Did you dream of Richard?"
"Not very much of Richard; except that the old and continuous trouble of his being away and unable to return, seemed to pervade it all through. You remember, Barbara, Richard asserted to us, in that short, hidden night visit, that he did not commit the murder; that it was another who did?"
"Yes, I remember it," replied Barbara.
"Barbara, I am convinced he spoke the truth; I trust him implicitly."
"I feel sure of it also, mamma."
"I asked him, you remember, whether it was Otway Bethel who committed it; for I have always doubted Bethel, in an indefinite, vague manner. Richard replied it was not Bethel, but a stranger. Well, Barbara, in my dream I thought that stranger came to West Lynne, that he came to this house here, and we were talking to him of him, conversing as we might with any other visitor. Mind you, we seemed to /know/ that he was the one who actually did it; but he denied it. He wanted to put it upon Richard; and I saw him, yes I did, Barbara--whisper to Otway Bethel. But oh, I cannot tell you the sickening horror that was upon me throughout, and seemed to be upon you also, lest he should make good his own apparent innocence, and crush Richard, his victim. I think the dread and horror awoke me."
"What was he like, this stranger?" asked Barbara, in a low tone.
"Well, I cannot quite tell. The recollection of his appearance seemed to pass away from me with the dream. He was dressed as a gentleman, and we conversed, with him as an equal."
Barbara's mind was full of Captain Thorn, but his name had not been mentioned to Mrs. Hare, and neither would she mention it now. She fell into deep thought; and Mrs. Hare had to speak twice before she could be aroused.
"Barbara, I say, don't you think this dream, coming uncalled for uninduced, must forebode some ill? Rely upon it, something connected with that wretched murder is going to be stirred up again."
"You know, I do not believe in dreams," was Barbara's answer. "I think when people say, 'this dream is a sign of such and such a thing,' it is the greatest absurdity in the world. I wish you could remember what the man seemed like in your dream."
"I wish I could," answered Mrs. Hare, breaking off a particle of her dry toast. "All I can remember is, that he appeared to be a gentleman."
"Was he tall? Had he black hair?"
Mrs. Hare shook her heard. "I tell you, my dear, the remembrance has passed from me; so whether his hair was black or light, I cannot say. I think he was tall, but he was sitting down, and Otway Bethel stood behind his chair. I seemed to feel that Richard was outside the door in hiding, trembling lest the man should go out and see him there; and I trembled, too. Oh, Barbara, it was a distressing dream!"
"I wish you could avoid having them, mamma, for they seem to upset you very much."
"Why did you ask whether the man was tall,
At this moment the bedroom door was flung open, and the face of the justice, especially stern and cross then was pushed in. So startled was Mrs. Hare, that she shook till she shook the pillow, and Barbara sprang away from the bed. Surely he had not distinguished their topic of conversation!
"Are you coming to make the breakfast to-day, or not Barbara? Do you expect me to make it?"
"She is coming this instant, Richard," said Mrs. Hare, her voice more faint than usual. And the justice turned and stamped down again.
"Barbara, could your papa have heard me mention Richard?"
"No, no, mamma impossible: the door was shut. I will bring up your breakfast myself and then you can tell me the dream."
Barbara flew after Mr. Hare, poured out his coffee, saw him settled at his breakfast, with a plateful of grouse-pie before him, and then returned upstairs with her mamma's tea and dry toast.
"Go on with your dream, mamma," she said.
"But your breakfast will be cold, child."
"Oh, don't mind that. Did you dream of Richard?"
"Not very much of Richard; except that the old and continuous trouble of his being away and unable to return, seemed to pervade it all through. You remember, Barbara, Richard asserted to us, in that short, hidden night visit, that he did not commit the murder; that it was another who did?"
"Yes, I remember it," replied Barbara.
"Barbara, I am convinced he spoke the truth; I trust him implicitly."
"I feel sure of it also, mamma."
"I asked him, you remember, whether it was Otway Bethel who committed it; for I have always doubted Bethel, in an indefinite, vague manner. Richard replied it was not Bethel, but a stranger. Well, Barbara, in my dream I thought that stranger came to West Lynne, that he came to this house here, and we were talking to him of him, conversing as we might with any other visitor. Mind you, we seemed to /know/ that he was the one who actually did it; but he denied it. He wanted to put it upon Richard; and I saw him, yes I did, Barbara--whisper to Otway Bethel. But oh, I cannot tell you the sickening horror that was upon me throughout, and seemed to be upon you also, lest he should make good his own apparent innocence, and crush Richard, his victim. I think the dread and horror awoke me."
"What was he like, this stranger?" asked Barbara, in a low tone.
"Well, I cannot quite tell. The recollection of his appearance seemed to pass away from me with the dream. He was dressed as a gentleman, and we conversed, with him as an equal."
Barbara's mind was full of Captain Thorn, but his name had not been mentioned to Mrs. Hare, and neither would she mention it now. She fell into deep thought; and Mrs. Hare had to speak twice before she could be aroused.
"Barbara, I say, don't you think this dream, coming uncalled for uninduced, must forebode some ill? Rely upon it, something connected with that wretched murder is going to be stirred up again."
"You know, I do not believe in dreams," was Barbara's answer. "I think when people say, 'this dream is a sign of such and such a thing,' it is the greatest absurdity in the world. I wish you could remember what the man seemed like in your dream."
"I wish I could," answered Mrs. Hare, breaking off a particle of her dry toast. "All I can remember is, that he appeared to be a gentleman."
"Was he tall? Had he black hair?"
Mrs. Hare shook her heard. "I tell you, my dear, the remembrance has passed from me; so whether his hair was black or light, I cannot say. I think he was tall, but he was sitting down, and Otway Bethel stood behind his chair. I seemed to feel that Richard was outside the door in hiding, trembling lest the man should go out and see him there; and I trembled, too. Oh, Barbara, it was a distressing dream!"
"I wish you could avoid having them, mamma, for they seem to upset you very much."
"Why did you ask whether the man was tall,