The Woman in White
them and said, “There is Anne Catherick, ma’am, with the attendant who
waits on her. The attendant will answer any questions you wish to put.”
With those words the nurse left her to return to the duties of the
house.
Miss Halcombe advanced on her side, and the women advanced on theirs.
When they were within a dozen paces of each other, one of the women
stopped for an instant, looked eagerly at the strange lady, shook
off the nurse’s grasp on her, and the next moment rushed into
Miss Halcombe’s arms. In that moment Miss Halcombe recognised her
sister—recognised the dead-alive.
Fortunately for the success of the measures taken subsequently, no
one was present at that moment but the nurse. She was a young woman,
and she was so startled that she was at first quite incapable of
interfering. When she was able to do so her whole services were
required by Miss Halcombe, who had for the moment sunk altogether in
the effort to keep her own senses under the shock of the discovery.
After waiting a few minutes in the fresh air and the cool shade,
her natural energy and courage helped her a little, and she became
sufficiently mistress of herself to feel the necessity of recalling her
presence of mind for her unfortunate sister’s sake.
She obtained permission to speak alone with the patient, on condition
that they both remained well within the nurse’s view. There was no time
for questions—there was only time for Miss Halcombe to impress on the
unhappy lady the necessity of controlling herself, and to assure her of
immediate help and rescue if she did so. The prospect of escaping from
the Asylum by obedience to her sister’s directions was sufficient to
quiet Lady Glyde, and to make her understand what was required of her.
Miss Halcombe next returned to the nurse, placed all the gold she then
had in her pocket (three sovereigns) in the nurse’s hands, and asked
when and where she could speak to her alone.
The woman was at first surprised and distrustful. But on Miss
Halcombe’s declaring that she only wanted to put some questions which
she was too much agitated to ask at that moment, and that she had no
intention of misleading the nurse into any dereliction of duty, the
woman took the money, and proposed three o’clock on the next day as the
time for the interview. She might then slip out for half an hour, after
the patients had dined, and she would meet the lady in a retired place,
outside the high north wall which screened the grounds of the house.
Miss Halcombe had only time to assent, and to whisper to her sister
that she should hear from her on the next day, when the proprietor of
the Asylum joined them. He noticed his visitor’s agitation, which Miss
Halcombe accounted for by saying that her interview with Anne Catherick
had a little startled her at first. She took her leave as soon after as
possible—that is to say, as soon as she could summon courage to force
herself from the presence of her unfortunate sister.
A very little reflection, when the capacity to reflect returned,
convinced her that any attempt to identify Lady Glyde and to rescue her
by legal means, would, even if successful, involve a delay that might
be fatal to her sister’s intellects, which were shaken already by the
horror of the situation to which she had been consigned. By the time
Miss Halcombe had got back to London, she had determined to effect Lady
Glyde’s escape privately, by means of the nurse.
She went at once to her stockbroker, and sold out of the funds all the
little property she possessed, amounting to rather less than seven
hundred pounds. Determined, if necessary, to pay the price of her
sister’s liberty with every farthing she had in the world, she repaired
the next day, having the whole sum about her in bank-notes, to her
appointment outside the Asylum wall.
The nurse was there. Miss Halcombe approached the subject cautiously by
many preliminary questions. She discovered, among other particulars,
that the nurse who had in former times attended on the true Anne
Catherick had been held responsible (although she was not to blame for
it) for the patient’s escape, and had lost her place in consequence.
The same penalty, it was added, would attach to the person then
speaking to her, if the supposed Anne Catherick was missing a second
time; and, moreover, the nurse in this case had an especial interest
in keeping her place. She was engaged to be married, and she and her
future husband were waiting till they could save, together, between two
and three hundred pounds to start in business. The nurse’s wages were
good, and she might succeed, by strict economy, in contributing her
small share towards the sum required in two years’ time.
On this hint Miss Halcombe spoke. She declared that the supposed Anne
Catherick was nearly related to her, that she had been placed in
the Asylum under a fatal mistake, and that the nurse would be doing
a good and a Christian action in being the means of restoring them
to one another. Before there was time to start a single objection,
Miss Halcombe took four bank-notes of a hundred pounds each from her
pocket-book, and offered them to the woman, as a compensation for the
risk she was to run, and for the loss of her place.
The nurse hesitated, through sheer incredulity and surprise. Miss
Halcombe pressed the point on her firmly.
“You will be doing a good action,” she repeated; “you will be helping
the most injured and unhappy woman alive. There is your marriage
portion for a reward. Bring her safely to me here, and I will put these
four bank-notes into your hand before I claim her.”
“Will you give me a letter saying those words, which I can show to my
sweetheart when he asks how I got the money?” inquired the woman.
“I will bring the letter with me, ready written and signed,” answered
Miss Halcombe.
“Then I’ll risk it,” said the nurse.
“When?”
“To-morrow.”
It was hastily agreed between them that Miss Halcombe should return
early the next morning and wait out of sight among the trees—always,
however, keeping near the quiet spot of ground under the north wall.
The nurse could fix no time for her appearance, caution requiring that
she should wait and be guided by circumstances. On that understanding
they separated.
Miss Halcombe was at her place, with the promised letter and the
promised bank-notes, before ten the next morning. She waited more than
an hour and a half. At the end of that time the nurse came quickly
round the corner of the wall holding Lady Glyde by the arm. The moment
they met Miss Halcombe put the bank-notes and the letter into her hand,
and the sisters were united again.
The nurse had dressed Lady Glyde, with excellent forethought, in a
bonnet, veil, and shawl of her own. Miss Halcombe only detained her to
suggest a means of turning the pursuit in a false direction, when the
escape was discovered at the Asylum. She was to go back to the house,
to mention in the hearing of the other nurses that Anne Catherick had
been inquiring latterly about the distance from London to Hampshire, to
wait till the last moment, before discovery was inevitable, and then
to give the alarm that Anne was missing. The supposed inquiries about
Hampshire, when communicated to the owner of the Asylum, would lead him
to imagine that his patient had returned to Blackwater Park, under the
influence of the delusion which made her persist in asserting herself
to be Lady Glyde, and the first pursuit would, in all probability, be
turned in that direction.
The nurse consented to follow these suggestions, the more readily
as they offered her the means of securing herself against any worse
consequences than the loss of her place, by remaining in the Asylum,
and so maintaining the appearance of innocence, at least. She at
once returned to the house, and Miss Halcombe lost no time in taking
her sister back with her to London. They caught the afternoon train
to Carlisle the same afternoon, and arrived at Limmeridge, without
accident or difficulty of any kind, that night.
During the latter part of their journey they were alone in the
carriage, and Miss Halcombe was able to collect such remembrances of
the past as her sister’s confused and weakened memory was able to
recall. The terrible story of the conspiracy so obtained was presented
in fragments, sadly incoherent in themselves, and widely detached from
each other. Imperfect as the revelation was, it must nevertheless be
recorded here before this explanatory narrative closes with the events
of the next day at Limmeridge House.
Lady Glyde’s recollection of the events which followed her departure
from Blackwater Park began with her arrival at the London terminus
of the South Western Railway. She had omitted to make a memorandum
beforehand of the day on which she took the journey. All hope of fixing
that important date by any evidence of hers, or of Mrs. Michelson’s,
must be given up for lost.
On the arrival of the train at the platform Lady Glyde found Count
Fosco waiting for her. He was at the carriage door as soon as the
porter could open it. The train was unusually crowded, and there was
great confusion in getting the luggage. Some person whom Count Fosco
brought with him procured the luggage which belonged to Lady Glyde.
It was marked with her name. She drove away alone with the Count in a
vehicle which she did not particularly notice at the time.
Her first question, on leaving the terminus, referred to Miss Halcombe.
The Count informed her that Miss Halcombe had not yet gone to
Cumberland, after-consideration having caused him to doubt the prudence
of her taking so long a journey without some days’ previous rest.
Lady Glyde next inquired whether her sister was then staying in the
Count’s house. Her recollection of the answer was confused, her only
distinct impression in relation to it being that the Count declared he
was then taking her to see Miss Halcombe. Lady Glyde’s experience of
London was so limited that she could not tell, at the time, through
what streets they were driving. But they never left the streets, and
they never passed any gardens or trees. When the carriage stopped, it
stopped in a small street behind a square—a square in which there were
shops, and public buildings, and many people. From these recollections
(of which Lady Glyde was certain) it seems quite clear that Count Fosco
did not take her to his own residence in the suburb of St. John’s Wood.
They entered the house, and went upstairs to a back room, either on
the first or second floor. The luggage was carefully brought in. A
female servant opened the door, and a man with a dark beard, apparently
a foreigner, met them in the hall, and with great politeness showed
them the way upstairs. In answer to Lady Glyde’s inquiries, the Count
assured her that Miss Halcombe was in the house, and that she should be
immediately informed of her sister’s arrival. He and the foreigner then
went away and left her by herself in the room. It was poorly furnished
as a sitting-room, and it looked out on the backs of houses.
The place was remarkably quiet—no footsteps went up or down the
stairs—she only heard in the room beneath her a dull, rumbling sound
of men’s voices talking. Before she had been long left alone the Count
returned, to explain that Miss Halcombe was then taking rest, and could
not be disturbed for a little while. He was accompanied into the room
by a gentleman (an Englishman), whom he begged to present as a friend
of his.
After this singular introduction—in the course of which no names, to
the best of Lady Glyde’s recollection, had been mentioned—she was left
alone with the stranger. He was perfectly civil, but he startled and
confused her by some odd questions about herself, and by looking at