She made no reply,and went indoors.There,as the evening wore away,she regretted more and more that she had been so friendly with Lord Uplandtowers.But he had launched himself upon her so unexpectedly:if she had only foreseen the meeting with him,what a careful line of conduct she would have marked out!Barbara broke into a perspiration of disquiet when she thought of her unreserve,and,in self-chastisement,resolved to sit up till midnight on the bare chance of Edmond's return;directing that supper should be laid for him,improbable as his arrival till the morrow was.
The hours went past,and there was dead silence in and round about Yewsholt Lodge,except for the soughing of the trees;till,when it was near upon midnight,she heard the noise of hoofs and wheels approaching the door.Knowing that it could only be her husband,Barbara instantly went into the hall to meet him.Yet she stood there not without a sensation of faintness,so many were the changes since their parting!And,owing to her casual encounter with Lord Uplandtowers,his voice and image still remained with her,excluding Edmond,her husband,from the inner circle of her impressions.
But she went to the door,and the next moment a figure stepped inside,of which she knew the outline,but little besides.Her husband was attired in a flapping black cloak and slouched hat,appearing altogether as a foreigner,and not as the young English burgess who had left her side.When he came forward into the light of the lamp,she perceived with surprise,and almost with fright,that he wore a mask.At first she had not noticed this--there being nothing in its colour which would lead a casual observer to think he was looking on anything but a real countenance.
He must have seen her start of dismay at the unexpectedness of his appearance,for he said hastily:'I did not mean to come in to you like this--I thought you would have been in bed.How good you are,dear Barbara!'He put his arm round her,but he did not attempt to kiss her.
'O Edmond--it IS you?--it must be?'she said,with clasped hands,for though his figure and movement were almost enough to prove it,and the tones were not unlike the old tones,the enunciation was so altered as to seem that of a stranger.
'I am covered like this to hide myself from the curious eyes of the inn-servants and others,'he said,in a low voice.'I will send back the carriage and join you in a moment.'
'You are quite alone?'
'Quite.My companion stopped at Southampton.'
The wheels of the post-chaise rolled away as she entered the dining-room,where the supper was spread;and presently he rejoined her there.He had removed his cloak and hat,but the mask was still retained;and she could now see that it was of special make,of some flexible material like silk,coloured so as to represent flesh;it joined naturally to the front hair,and was otherwise cleverly executed.
'Barbara--you look ill,'he said,removing his glove,and taking her hand.
'Yes--I have been ill,'said she.
'Is this pretty little house ours?'
'O--yes.'She was hardly conscious of her words,for the hand he had ungloved in order to take hers was contorted,and had one or two of its fingers missing;while through the mask she discerned the twinkle of one eye only.
'I would give anything to kiss you,dearest,now,at this moment!'
he continued,with mournful passionateness.'But I cannot--in this guise.The servants are abed,I suppose?'
'Yes,'said she.'But I can call them?You will have some supper?'
He said he would have some,but that it was not necessary to call anybody at that hour.Thereupon they approached the table,and sat down,facing each other.
Despite Barbara's scared state of mind,it was forced upon her notice that her husband trembled,as if he feared the impression he was producing,or was about to produce,as much as,or more than,she.He drew nearer,and took her hand again.
'I had this mask made at Venice,'he began,in evident embarrassment.'My darling Barbara--my dearest wife--do you think you--will mind when I take it off?You will not dislike me--will you?'
'O Edmond,of course I shall not mind,'said she.'What has happened to you is our misfortune;but I am prepared for it.'
'Are you sure you are prepared?'
'O yes!You are my husband.'
'You really feel quite confident that nothing external can affect you?'he said again,in a voice rendered uncertain by his agitation.
'I think I am--quite,'she answered faintly.
He bent his head.'I hope,I hope you are,'he whispered.
In the pause which followed,the ticking of the clock in the hall seemed to grow loud;and he turned a little aside to remove the mask.She breathlessly awaited the operation,which was one of some tediousness,watching him one moment,averting her face the next;and when it was done she shut her eyes at the hideous spectacle that was revealed.A quick spasm of horror had passed through her;but though she quailed she forced herself to regard him anew,repressing the cry that would naturally have escaped from her ashy lips.
Unable to look at him longer,Barbara sank down on the floor beside her chair,covering her eyes.
'You cannot look at me!'he groaned in a hopeless way.'I am too terrible an object even for you to bear!I knew it;yet I hoped against it.Oh,this is a bitter fate--curse the skill of those Venetian surgeons who saved me alive!...Look up,Barbara,'he continued beseechingly;'view me completely;say you loathe me,if you do loathe me,and settle the case between us for ever!'
His unhappy wife pulled herself together for a desperate strain.He was her Edmond;he had done her no wrong;he had suffered.Amomentary devotion to him helped her,and lifting her eyes as bidden she regarded this human remnant,this ecorche,a second time.But the sight was too much.She again involuntarily looked aside and shuddered.
