He was not fifty years old yet; and he had just exhibited one of the sad symptoms which mark the broken memory of old age. Lead him back to the events of many years ago, and (as he had just proved to me) he could remember well and relate coherently. But let him attempt to recall circumstances which had only taken place a short time since, and forgetfulness and confusion presented the lamentable result, just as I have related it.
The effort that he had made, the agitation that he had undergone in talking to me, had confirmed my fears that he would overtask his wasted strength. He lay back in his chair. “Let us go on with our conversation,” he murmured. “We haven’t recovered what I had forgotten, yet.” His eyes closed, and opened again languidly. “There was something I wanted to recall—” he resumed, “and you were helping me.” His weak voice died away; his weary eyes closed again. After waiting until there could be no doubt that he was resting peacefully in sleep, I left the room.
CHAPTER XXXIV. THE LIVELY OLD MAID.
A perfect stranger to the interior of the house (seeing that my experience began and ended with the Minister’s bedchamber), I descended the stairs, in the character of a guest in search of domestic information.
On my way down, I heard the door of a room on the ground floor opened, and a woman’ s voice below, speaking in a hurry: “My dear, I have not a moment to spare; my patients are waiting for me.” This was followed by a confidential communication, judging by the tone. “Mind! not a word about me to that old gentleman!” Her patients were waiting for her—had I discovered a female doctor? And there was some old gentleman whom she was not willing to trust—surely I was not that much-injured man?
Reaching the hall just as the lady said her last words, I caught a glimpse of her face, and discovered the middle-aged stranger who had called on “Miss Jillgall,” and had promised to repeat her visit. A second lady was at the door, with her back to me, taking leave of her friend. Having said good-by, she turned round—and we confronted each other.
I found her to be a little person, wiry and active; past the prime of life, and ugly enough to encourage prejudice, in persons who take a superficial view of their fellow-creatures. Looking impartially at the little sunken eyes which rested on me with a comical expression of embarrassment, I saw signs that said: There is some good here, under a disagreeable surface, if you can only find it.
She saluted me with a carefully-performed curtsey, and threw open the door of a room on the ground floor.
“Pray walk in, sir, and permit me to introduce myself. I am Mr. Gracedieu’s cousin—Miss Jillgall. Proud indeed to make the acquaintance of a gentleman distinguished in the service of his country—or perhaps I ought to say, in the service of the Law. The Governor offers hospitality to prisoners. And who introduces prisoners to board and lodging with the Governor?—the Law. Beautiful weather for the time of year, is it not? May I ask—have you seen your room?”