Blind Love ... With a preface by Walter Besant [who completed the work] and illustrations by A. Forestier

Front matter

BLIND LOVE VOL. I, NEW NOVELS AT ALL LIBRARIES. THE BELL OF ST. PAUL'S. By Walter Eesant. 3 vols. FOR THE LOVE OFA LASS. By Austin Clare. 2 VOls. FETTERED FOR LIFE. By Frank Barrett. 3 vols. PASSION'S SLAVE. By Richard Ashe King. 3 vols. A YANKEE AT THE COURT OF KING ARTHUR. By Mark Twain, i vol. THE DEAD MAN'S SECRET ; or, the Valley of Gold. Ey J. E. M-Ddock. i vol. THE ROMANCE OF JENNY HARLOWE. By W. Clakk Russell, i vol. London : CHATTO & WINDUS, Piccadilly, W. ' Dennis, I have got something for you to do. It must be kept a secret, and it allows of no delay,1 Blind Love BY WILKIE COLLINS WITH A

Preface

BY WALTER B ES A NT AND ILLUSTRATIONS BY A. FOR ES TIER IN THREE VOLUMES YOL. I. 3Toii-on CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY The Illustrations to this Story are reproduced from ' The Illustrated London News,' by kind permission of the Proprietors of that Journal

PREFACE.

J[N the month of August, and in the middle of the seaside holiday, a message came to me from Wilhie Collins, then, though ice hoped otherwise, on his death-bed. It was conveyed to me by Mr. A. P. Watt. The words of his letter were as follows : ' I have just come from Wilhie Collins, who is very ill. He told me that his novel, " Blind Love," is unfinished, and that it is quite impossible for him to think us finishing it. Then he said: " Ask Walter Besant if he will finish it for me. Tell him that I would do as much for him if he were in my place and I in his. If he has the time I think he will do this for me. We are both old hands at the work, and V we understand it." He has placed in my hands the notes of the remainder, which I will forward to you if you can accede to his request. Under the circumstances of the case, it was impossible to decline this request.

I wrote to say that time should be made, and the notes were forwarded to me at Robin Hood's Bay. I began by reading carefully and twice over, so as to get a grip of the story and the novelist's intention, the part that had already appeared in the ' Illustrated London News,' and the proofs so far as the author had gone. I then turned to the notes. I found that these were not merely notes, such as I had expected — simple indications of the plot and the development of events — but an actual detailed scenario, in which every incident, however trivial, was carefully laid down: there were also fragments of dialogue inserted at those places where dialogue was wanted to em phasise the situation and make it real. I was much struck with the writer's perception of the

PREFACE.

VII vast importance of dialogue in making the reader seize the scene. Description requires attention : dialogue rivets attention. It is not an easy task, nor is it pleasant, to carry on another man's work : but the possession of this scenario lightened the icork enormously. I have been careful to adhere faithfully and exactly to the plot, scene by scene, down to the smallest detail as it ivas laid down by the author in this book. I have altered nothing. I have preserved and incorporated every fragment of dialogue. I have used tlie very language wherever that was written so carefully as to show that it was meant to be used. I think that there is only one trivial detail where I had to choose, because it was not clear from the notes what the author had intended. The pilot of the novel, every scene, every situation, from beginning to end, is the work of Wilkie Collins.

The actual writing is entirely his up to a certain point : from that point to the end it is his in fragments, but mainly mine. Where his writing ends and mine begins, I need not point out. The practised critic will, no doubt, at once lay his finger on the spot. I have therefore carried out the author's wishes to the best of my ability. Would that he were living still, if only to regret that he had not been aUowed to finish his last work with his own hand ! Walter Besant. CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME PAGE

Prologue

1 THE STORY FIRST PERIOD LHAP.TER I. THE SOUR FRENCH WINE 97 II. THE MAN SHE REFUSED 109 III. THE REGISTERED PACKET 122 IV. THE GAME . MOUNTJOY LOSES 134 V. THE GAME : MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD . . 150 VI. THE GAME : MOUNTJOY WINS 166 VII. DOCTORING THE DOCTOR 181 VIII. HER FATHER'S MESSAGE 108 IX. MR. VIMPANY ON INTOXICATION 212 X. THE MOCKERY OF DECEIT . . . .225 X BLIND LOVE CHAPTER PAGE XI. MRS. VIMPANY'S FAREWELL 231 XII. LORD HARRY'S DEFENCE 247 SECOND PERIOD XIII. IRIS AT HOME 260 XIV. THE LADY'S-MAID 278 XV. MR. HENLEY'S TEMPER 288 XVI. THE DOCTOR IN FULL DRESS ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. I ' DENNIS, I HAVE GOT SOMETHING FOR YOU TO DO. IT MUST BE KEPT A SECRET, AND IT ALLOWS OF NO delay ' ....... Frontispiece LIFTING THE PERFORATED PAPER, HE PLACED IT DELI- CATELY OVER THE PAGE WHICH CONTAINED THE UN- INTELLIGIBLE writing. . . .

To face page 13 MRS. LEWSON'S FACE BRIGHTENED IN AN INSTANT \ SHE THREW* THE DOOR WIDE OPEN WITH A GLAD CRY OF RECOGNITION . . . . . . . .61 SHE DREW OUT A SILVER TRAVELLING-FLASK. ONE GLANCE AT THE NAME ENGRAVED ON IT TOLD HIM THE TERRIBLE TRUTH 95 IMPULSIVELY SHE DREW HIS HEAD DOWN 111 ' NOW,' SHE SAID, TAKING A CHAIR BY THE BEDSIDE, ' YOU SHALL KNOW WHAT A CLEVER WIFE YOU HAVE GOT' . ]97 THE WILD LORD READ IT : LOOKED (TO USE THE MES- SENGER'S OWN WORDS) LIKE A MAN CUT TO THE HEART, AND SEEMED AT A LOSS WHAT TO SAY OR DO . THE

PROLOGUE.

I OON ON after sunrise, on a cloudy morning in the year 1881, a special messenger disturbed the repose of Dennis HoAvmore, at his place of residence in the pleasant Irish town of Ardoon. Well acquainted apparently Avith the way upstairs, the man thumped on a bedroom door, and shouted his message through it : \T0L. I. u ' The master Avants you, and mind you don't keep him waiting.' The person sending this peremptory mes sage was Sir Giles Mountjoy of Ardoon ; knight and banker. The person receiving the message was Sir Giles's head clerk. As a matter of course, Dennis Howmore dressed himself at full speed, and hastened to his employer's private house on the outskirts of the town. He found Sir Giles in an irritable and anxious state of mind. A letter lay open on the banker's bed, his night-cap Avas crumpled crookedly on his head, he was in too great a hurry to remember the claims of politeness, when the clerk said ' Good-morning.' ' Dennis, I have got something for you to do.

It must be kept a secret, and it allows of no delay.' ' Is it anything connected with business, sir?' The banker lost his temper. ' Hoav can you be such an infernal fool as to suppose that anything connected with business could happen at this time in the morning ? Do you knoAv the first milestone on the road to Garvan ? ' ' Yes, sir.' ' Very Avell. Go to the milestone, and take care that nobody sees you when you get there. Look at the back of the stone. If you discover an Object which appears to have been left in that situation, on the ground, bring it to me ; and don't forget that the most impatient man in all Ireland is Avait ing for you.' Not a Avord of explanation followed these extraordinary instructions. The head clerk set forth on his errand, with his mind dwelling on the national tendencies to conspiracy and assassination.

His employer was not a popular person. Sir B Giles had paid rent when he owed it ; and, worse still, Avas disposed to remember in a friendly spirit what England had done for Ireland, in the course of the last fifty years. If anything appeared to justify distrust of the mysterious Object of which he was in search, Dennis resolved to be vigilantly on the look out for a gun-barrel, whenever he passed a hedge on his return journey to the town. Arrived at the milestone, he discovered on the ground behind it one Object only — a fragment of a broken tea-cup. Naturally enough, Dennis hesitated. It seemed to be impossible that the earnest and careful instructions which he had received could relate to such a trifle as this. At the same time, he Avas acting under orders which were as positive as tone, manner, and language could make them.

Passive obedience ap peared to be the one safe course to take — at the risk of a reception, irritating to any man's self-respect, when he returned to his employer Avith a broken tea-cup in his hand. The event entirely failed to justify his misgivings. There could be no doubt that Sir Giles attached serious importance to the contemptible discovery made at the milestone. After having examined and re-examined the fragment, he announced his intention of send ing the clerk on a second errand — still with out troubling himself to explain what his incomprehensible instructions meant. ' If I am not mistaken,' he began, ' the Reading Rooms, in our toAvn, open as early as nine. Very well. Go to the Rooms this morning, on the stroke of the clock.' He stopped, and consulted the letter which lay open on his bed. ' Ask the librarian,' he continued, ' for the third volume of Gibbon's " Decline and Eall of the Roman Empire."

Open the book at pages seventy-eight and seventy-nine. If you find a piece of paper betAveen those two leaves, take possession of it when nobody is looking at you, aud bring it to me. That's all, Dennis. And bear in mind that I shall not recover the use of my patience till I see you again.' On ordinary occasions, the head clerk Avas not a man accustomed to insist on Avhat Avas due to his dignity. At the same time he was a sensible human being, conscious of the consideration to Avhich his responsible place in the office entitled him. Sir Giles's irritating reserve, not even excused by a Avord of apology, reached the limits of his endurance. He respectfully protested. ' I regret to sind, sir,' he said, ' that I have lost my place in my employer's estimation. The man to whom you confide the superin tendence of your clerks and the transaction of your business has, I venture to think, some claim (under the present circumstances) to be trusted.' The banker Avas noAV offended on his side. ' I readily admit your claim,' he ansAvered, ' when you are sitting at your desk in my office.

But, even in these days of strikes, co-operations, and bank holidays, an employer has one privilege left — he has not ceased to be a Man, and he has not forfeited a man's right to keep his oavii secrets. I fail to see any thing in my conduct which has given you just reason to complain.' Dennis, rebuked, made his bow in silence, and withdrew. Did these acts of humility mean lhat he submitted ? They meant exactly the con trary. He had made up his mind that Sir Giles Mountjoy's motives should, sooner or later, cease to be mysteries to Sir Giles Mountjoy's clerk. AREFTJLLY following his instruc- A\§^^^ tions, he consulted the third volume of Gibbon's great History, and found, betAveen the seventy-eighth and seventy-ninth pages, something remarkable this time. It was a sheet of delicately-made paper, pierced with a number of little holes, infi nitely varied in size, and cut with the smoothest precision.

Having secured this curious object, Avhile the librarian's back was turned, Dennis HoAvmore reflected. A page of paper, unintelligibly perforated for some purpose unknoAvn, was in itself a suspicious thing. And what did suspicion suggest to the inquiring mind in South- Western Ireland, before the suppression of the Land League ?- Unquestionably — Police ! On the way back to his employer, the banker's clerk paid a visit to an old friend — a journalist by profession ; and a man of varied learning and experience as well. Invited to inspect the remarkable morsel of paper, and to discover the object with which the perforations had been made, the authority consulted proved to be worthy of the trust reposed in him. Dennis left the newspaper-office an enlightened man — Avith information at the disposal of Sir Giles, and with a sense of relief which expressed itself irreverently in these words : ' Noav I have got him ! ' The beAvildered banker looked backwards and forAvards from the paper to the clerk, and from the clerk to the paper. ' I don't under stand it,' he said. ' Do you ? ' Still preserving the appearance of humility, Dennis asked leave to venture on a guess.

The perforated paper looked, as he thought, like a Puzzle. ' If Ave Avait for a day or tAvo,' he suggested, ' the Key to it may possibly reach us.' On the next day, nothing happened. On the day after, a second letter made another audacious demand on the fast-failing patience of Sir Giles Mountjoy. Even the envelope proved to be a puzzle on this occasion ; the postmark was 'Ardoon.' In other Avords, the Avriter had used the post man as a messenger, Avhile he or his accom plice Avas actually in the town posting the letter within half a minute's Avalk of the bank ! The contents presented an impenetrable mystery, the writing looked worthy of a madman. Sentences appeared in the Avildest state of con fusion, and words were so mutilated as to be unintelligible. This time, the force of circum stances Avas more than Sir Giles could resist.

He took the clerk into his confidence at last. ' Let us begin at the beginning,' he 6aid. ' There is the letter you saAv on my bed, Avhen I first sent for you. I found it Avaiting on my table when I woke ; and I don't knoAv who put it there. Read it.' Dennis read as folloAvs ' Sir Giles Mountjoy, — I have a disclosure to make, in which one of the members of your family is seriously interested. Before I can \renture to explain myself, I must be assured that I can trust to your good faith. As a test of this, I require you to fulfil the two con ditions that follow — and to do it Avithout the slightest loss of time. I dare not trust you yet with my address, or my signature. Any act of carelessness, on my part, might end fatally for the true friend avIio Avrites these lines. If you neglect this warning, you Avill regret it to the end of your life.' To the conditions on which the letter in sisted there is no need to allude.

They had been complied with when the discoveries were made at the back of the milestone, and be tAveen the pages of Gibbon's History. Sir Giles had already arrived at the conclu sion that a conspiracy was in progress to assassinate him, and perhaps to rob the bank. The wiser head clerk pointed to the perforated paper and the incomprehensible Avriting received that morning. ' If we can find out what these mean,' he said, 'you may be better able, sir, to form a correct opinion. ' And avIio is to do that ? ' the banker asked. ' I can but try, sir,' was the modest reply, ' if you see no objection to my making the attempt.' Sir Giles approved of the proposed experiment, silently and satirically, by a bend of his head. Too discreet a man to make a suspiciously Lifting the perforated paper, he placed it delicately over the page which contained the unintelligible writing. ready use of the information Avhich he had privately obtained, Dennis took care that his first attempt should not be successful.

After modestly asking permission to try again, he ventured on the second occasion to arrive at a happy discovery. Lifting the perforated paper, he placed it delicately over the page which con tained the unintelligible writing. Words and sentences now appeared (through the holes in the paper) in their right spelling and arrangement, and addressed Sir Giles in these terms : 'I beg to thank you, sir, for complying with my conditions. You have satisfied me of your good faith. At the same time, it is possible that you may hesitate to trust a man who is not yet able to admit you to his confidence. The perilous position in which I stand obliges me to ask for two or three days more of delay, before I can safely make an appointment AAdth you. Pray be patient — and on no account apply for advice or protection to the police.' ' Those last words,' Sir Giles declared, ' are conclusive !

The sooner I am under the care of the law the better. Take my card to the police-office.' ' May I say a Avord first, sir ? ' ' Do you mean that you don't agree with me?' ' I mean that.' ' You were always Dennis ; and it grows older. Never mind ! an obstinate man, on you as you get Let's have it out. Who do you say is the person pointed at in these rascally letters ? ' The head clerk took up the first letter of the tAAro, and pointed to the opening sentence : ' Sir Giles Mountjoy, — I have a disclosure to make in which one of the members of your family is seriously interested.' Dennis em phatically repeated the words : : one of the ■5 members of your family.' His employer re garded him Avith a broad stare of astonish ment. ' One of the members of my family ? ' Sir Giles repeated, on his side. 'Why, man alive, what are you thinking of?

I'm an old bachelor, and I haven't got a family.' 'There is your brother, sir.' ' My brother is in France — out of the way of the Avretches Avho are threatening me. I wish I Avas Avith him ! ' ' There are your brother's tAvo sons, Sir Giles.' ' Well ? And what is there to be afraid of? My nephew, Hugh, is in London — and, mind ! not on a political errand. I hope, before long, to hear that he is going to be married — if the strangest and nicest girl in England will have him. What's wrong iioav? ' Dennis explained. ' I only wished to say, sir, that I was thinking of your other nephew.' Sir Giles laughed. ' Arthur in danger ! ' he exclaimed. ' As harmless a young man as ever lived. The worst one can say of him is that he is throwing away his money — farming in Kerry.' ' Excuse me, Sir Giles ; there's not much chance of his throwing aAvay his money, Avhere he is noAV.

Nobody will venture to take his money. I met Avith one of Mr. Arthur's neighbours at the market yesterday. Your nepheAV is boycotted.' ' So much the better,' the obstinate banker declared. ' He will be cured of his craze for farming ; and he Avill come back to the place I am keeping for him in the office.' ' God grant it ! ' the clerk said fervently. Eor the moment, Sir Giles Avas staggered. ' Have you heard something that you haven't told me yet ? ' he asked. ' No, sir. I am only bearing in mind something which— with all respect — I think you have forgotten. The last tenant on that bit of land in Kerry refused to pay his rent. Mr. Arthur has taken Avhat they call an evicted farm. It's my firm belief,' said the head clerk, rising and speaking earnestly, ' that the person Avho has addressed those letters to you knoAvs Mr. Arthur, and knows he is in danger — and is trying to save your nepheAV (by means of your influence), at the risk of his OAvn life.' Sir Giles shook his head. ' I call that a far-fetched interpretation, Dennis.

If what you say is true, why didn't the writer of those anonymous letters address himself to Arthur, instead of to me ? ' ' I gave it as my opinion just iioav, sir, that the writer of the letter knew Mr. Arthur.' ' So you did. And what of that ? ' Dennis stood to his guns. ' Anybody who is acquainted with Mr. VOL. I. C Arthur,' he persisted, ' knows that (with all sorts of good qualities) the young gentleman is headstrong and rash. If a friend told him he was in danger on the farm, that would be enough of itself to make him stop Avhere he is, and brave it out. Whereas you, sir, are known to be cautious and careful, and farseeing and discreet.' He might have added : And coAvardly and obstinate, and narrowminded and inflated by stupid self-esteem. But respect for his employer had blindfolded the clerk's observation for many a long year past.

If one man may be born with the heart of a lion, another man may be born Avith the mind of a mule. Dennis's master Avas one of the other men. ' Very Avell put,' Sir Giles answered indul gently. ' Time will sIioav, if such an entirely unimportant person as my nephew Arthur is likely to be assassinated. That allusion to one of the members of my family is a mere equivocation, designed to throw me oft' my guard. Rank, money, social influence, un swerving principles, mark me out as a public character. Go to the police-office, and let the best man who happens to be off duty come here directly.' Good Dennis Howniore approached the door very unwillingly. It Avas opened, from the outer side, before he had reached that end of the room. One of the bank porters announced a visitor. ' Miss Henley Avishes to know, sir, if you can see her,' Sir Giles looked agreeably surprised.

He rose with alacrity to receive the lady. c V??\^|HEN Iris Henley dies there will, in /MKafe a^ probability, be friends left who *fii**s-^ wm remember her and talk of her — and there may be strangers present at the time (women for the most part), whose curi osity will put questions relating to her per sonal appearance. No replies will reward them with trustworthy information. Miss Henley's chief claim to admiration lay in a remarkable mobility of expression, which re flected every change of feeling peculiar to the nature of a sweet and sensitive woman. For this reason, probably, no descriptions of her will agree with each other. No existing like nesses will represent her. The one portrait that was painted of Iris is only recognisable by partial friends of the artist. In and out of London, photographic likenesses were taken of her.

They have the honour of resembling the portraits of Shakespeare in this respect — compared Avith one another, it is not possible to discover that they present the same person. As for the evidence offered by the loving memory of her friends, it is sure to be contra dictory in the last degree. She had a charming face, a commonplace face, an intelligent face — a poor complexion, a delicate com plexion, no complexion at all — eyes that were expressive of a hot temper, of a bright intel lect, of a firm character, of an affectionate disposition, of a truthful nature, of hysterical sensibility, of inveterate obstinacy — a figure too short ; no, just the right height ; no, neither one thing nor the other ; elegant, if you like — dress shabby: oh, surely not; dress quiet and simple ; no, something more than that ; ostentatiously quiet, theatrically simple, worn with the object of looking unlike other people.

In one last word, Avas this mass of contradictions generally popular, in the time when it was a living creature ? Yes — among the men. No — not invariably. The man of all others Avho ought to have been fondest of her was the man who behaved cruelly to Iris — her OAvn father. And, when the poor creature married (if she did marry), Iioav many of you attended the wedding ? Not one of us ! And when she died, how many of you Avere sorry for her ? All of us ! What ? no difference of opinion in that one parti cular? On the contrary, perfect concord, thank God. Let the years roll back, and let Iris speak for herself, at the memorable time when she Avas in the prime of her life, and when a stormy career was before her. EING Miss Henley*s godfather, Sir Giles Avas a privileged person. He laid his hairy hands on her shoulders, and kissed her on either cheek.

After that prefatory act of endearment, he made his inquiries. What extraordinary combination of events had led Iris to leave London, and had brought her to visit him in his banking-house at Ardoon ? ' I Avanted to get away from home,' she answered ; ' and having nobody to go to but my godfather, I thought I should like to see You.' ' Alone ! ' cried Sir Giles. ' No — with my maid to keep me coms pany. ' Only your maid, Iris ? Surely you have acquaintances among young ladies like your self?' ' Acquaintances — yes. No friends.' 'Does your father approve of Avhat you have done ? ' ' Will you grant me a favour, godpapa ? ' ' Yes — if I can.' 'Don't insist on my answering your last question.' The faint colour that had risen in her face, when she entered the room, left it. At the same time, the expression of her mouth altered.

The lips closed firmly ; revealing that strongest of all resolutions which is founded on a keen sense of wrong. She looked older than her age : AA'hat she might be ten years hence, she Avas now. Sir Giles understood her. He got up, and took a turn in the room. An old habit, of which he had cured himself Avith infinite difficulty when he was made a Knight, showed itself again. He put his hands in his pockets. ' You and your father have had another quarrel,' he said, stopping opposite Iris. ' I don't deny it,' she replied. ' Who is to blame ? ' She smiled bitterly. ' The woman is always to blame.' ' Did your father tell you that ? ' 'My father reminded me that I was twenty-one years old, last birthday — and told me that I could do as I liked. I understood him, and I left the house.' ' You Avill go back again, I suppose ? ' I don't knoAv.' Sir Giles began pacing the room once more.

His rugged face, telling its story of disaster and struggle in early life, showed signs of disappointment and distress. ' Hugh promised to Avrite to me,' he said, ' and he has not written. I knoAv Avhat that means ; I knoAv Avhat you have done to offend your father. My nepheAV has asked you to marry him for the second time. And for the second time you have refused.' Her face softened ; its better and younger aspect revived. ' Yes,' she said, sadly and submissively ; ' I have refused him again.' Sir Giles lost his temper. ' What the devil is your objection to Hugh ? ' he burst out. 'My father said the same thing to me,' she replied, ' almost in the same Avords. I made him angry Avhen I tried to give my reason. I don't Avant to make you angry, too.' He took no notice of this. ' Isn't Hugh a good fellow ? ' he Avent on. ' Isn't he affec tionate ? and kindhearted ? and honourable ? — aye, and a handsome man too, if you come to that.' ' Hugh is all that you say.

I like him ; I admire him ; I OAve to his kindness some of the happiest days of my sad life, and I am grateful — oh, with all my heart, I am grateful to Hugh ! ' ' If that's true, Iris ' Every word of it is true.' ' I say, if that's true — there's no excuse for you. I hate perversity in a young woman ! Why don't you marry him ? ' ' Try to feel for me,' she said gently ; ' I can't love him.' Her tone said more to the banker than her Avords had expressed. The secret soitoav of her life, which was knoAATn to her father, was knoAvn also to Sir Giles. ' Noav we have come to it at last ! ' he said. ' You can't love my nepheAV Hugh. And you Avon't tell me the reason why, because your sweet temper shrinks from making me angry. Shall I mention the reason for you, my dear ? I can do it in two words — Lord Harry.' She made no reply ; she showed no sign of feeling what he had just said.