The New Magdalen
PREAMBLE.
THE place is France.
The time is autumn, in the year eighteen hundred and seventy—the year of the war between France and Germany.
The persons are, Captain Arnault, of the French army; Surgeon Surville, of the French ambulance; Surgeon Wetzel, of the German army; Mercy Merrick, attached as nurse to the French ambulance; and Grace Roseberry, a traveling lady on her way to England.
IT was a dark night. The rain was pouring in torrents.
Late in the evening a skirmishing party of the French and a skirmishing party of the Germans had met, by accident, near the little village of Lagrange, close to the German frontier. In the struggle that followed, the French had (for once) got the better of the enemy. For the time, at least, a few hundreds out of the host of the invaders had been forced back over the frontier. It was a trifling affair, occurring not long after the great German victory of Weissenbourg, and the newspapers took little or no notice of it.
Captain Arnault, commanding on the French side, sat alone in one of the cottages of the village, inhabited by the miller of the district. The Captain was reading, by the light of a solitary tallow-candle, some intercepted dispatches taken from the Germans. He had suffered the wood fire, scattered over the large open grate, to burn low; the red embers only faintly illuminated a part of the room. On the floor behind him lay some of the miller’s empty sacks. In a corner opposite to him was the miller’s solid walnut-wood bed. On the walls all around him were the miller’s colored prints, representing a happy mixture of devotional and domestic subjects. A door of communication leading into the kitchen of the cottage had been torn from its hinges, and used to carry the men wounded in the skirmish from the field. They were now comfortably laid at rest in the kitchen, under the care of the French surgeon and the English nurse attached to the ambulance. A piece of coarse canvas screened the opening between the two rooms in place of the door. A second door, leading from the bed-chamber into the yard, was locked; and the wooden shutter protecting the one window of the room was carefully barred. Sentinels, doubled in number, were placed at all the outposts. The French commander had neglected no precaution which could reasonably insure for himself and for his men a quiet and comfortable night.
Wilkie Collins
THE NEW MAGDALEN
TO THE MEMORY OF CHARLES ALLSTON COLLINS. (9th April, 1873.)
FIRST SCENE.—The Cottage on the Frontier.
CHAPTER I. THE TWO WOMEN.
CHAPTER II. MAGDALEN—IN MODERN TIMES.
CHAPTER III. THE GERMAN SHELL.
CHAPTER IV. THE TEMPTATION.
CHAPTER V. THE GERMAN SURGEON.
SECOND SCENE.—Mablethorpe House.
PREAMBLE.
CHAPTER VI. LADY JANET’S COMPANION.
CHAPTER VII. THE MAN IS COMING.
“You look very pale this morning, my child.”
CHAPTER VIII. THE MAN APPEARS.
CHAPTER IX. NEWS FROM MANNHEIM.
CHAPTER X. A COUNCIL OF THREE.
CHAPTER XI. THE DEAD ALIVE.
CHAPTER XII. EXIT JULIAN.
CHAPTER XIII. ENTER JULIAN.
CHAPTER XIV. COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE.
CHAPTER XV. A WOMAN’S REMORSE.
CHAPTER XVI. THEY MEET AGAIN.
CHAPTER XVII. THE GUARDIAN ANGEL.
CHAPTER XVIII. THE SEARCH IN THE GROUNDS.
CHAPTER XIX. THE EVIL GENIUS.
CHAPTER XX. THE POLICEMAN IN PLAIN CLOTHES.
CHAPTER XXI. THE FOOTSTEP IN THE CORRIDOR.
MERCY was alone.
CHAPTER XXII. THE MAN IN THE DINING-ROOM.
CHAPTER XXIII. LADY JANET AT BAY.
CHAPTER XXIV. LADY JANET’S LETTER.
CHAPTER XXV. THE CONFESSION
CHAPTER XXVI. GREAT HEART AND LITTLE HEART.
THERE was a pause.
CHAPTER XXVII. MAGDALEN’S APPRENTICESHIP.
CHAPTER XXVIII. SENTENCE IS PRONOUNCED ON HER.
IT was done. The last tones of her voice died away in silence.
CHAPTER XXIX. THE LAST TRIAL.
THE servant left them together. Mercy spoke first.
EPILOGUE: