WEhaddawdledoverourluncheonbeforeMrs。MacallanarrivedatBenjamin’scottage。Theensuingconversationbetweentheoldladyandmyself（ofwhichIhaveonlypresentedabriefabstract）
　　lasteduntilquitelateintheafternoon。Thesunwassettinginheavycloudswhenwegotintothecarriage，andtheautumntwilightbegantofallarounduswhilewewerestillontheroad。
　　Thedirectioninwhichwedrovetookus（aswellasIcouldjudge）towardthegreatnorthernsuburbofLondon。
　　Formorethananhourthecarriagethreadeditswaythroughadingybricklabyrinthofstreets，growingsmallerandsmalleranddirtieranddirtierthefurtherwewent。Emergingfromthelabyrinth，Inoticedinthegatheringdarknessdrearypatchesofwastegroundwhichseemedtobeneithertownnorcountry。
　　Crossingthese，wepassedsomeforlornoutlyinggroupsofhouseswithdimlittlescatteredshopsamongthem，lookinglikelostcountryvillageswanderingonthewaytoLondon，disfiguredandsmoke—driedalreadybytheirjourney。Darkeranddarkeranddrearieranddreariertheprospectdrew，untilthecarriagestoppedatlast，andMrs。Macallanannounced，inhersharplysatiricalway，thatwehadreachedtheendofourjourney。
　　"PrinceDexter’sPalace，mydear，"shesaid。"Whatdoyouthinkofit？"
　　Ilookedaroundme，notknowingwhattothinkofit，ifthetruthmustbetold。
　　Wehadgotoutofthecarriage，andwewerestandingonaroughhalf—madegravel—path。Rightandleftofme，inthedimlight，I
　　sawthehalf—completedfoundationsofnewhousesintheirfirststageofexistence。Boardsandbrickswerescatteredaboutus。Atplacesgauntscaffoldingpolesroselikethebranchlesstreesofthebrickdesert。Behindus，ontheothersideofthehigh—road，stretchedanotherplotofwasteground，asyetnotbuilton。Overthesurfaceofthisseconddeserttheghostlywhitefiguresofvagrantducksgleamedatintervalsinthemysticlight。Infrontofus，atadistanceoftwohundredyardsorsoaswellasI
　　couldcalculate，roseablackmass，whichgraduallyresolveditself，asmyeyesbecameaccustomedtothetwilight，intoalong，low，andancienthouse，withahedgeofevergreensandapitch—blackpalinginfrontofit。Thefootmanledthewaytowardthepalingthroughtheboardsandthebricks，theoystershellsandthebrokencrockery，thatstrewedtheground。Andthiswas"PrinceDexter’sPalace！"
　　Therewasagateinthepitch—blackpaling，andabell—handle——discoveredwithgreatdifficulty。Pullingatthehandle，thefootmansetinmotion，tojudgebythesoundproduced，abellofprodigioussize，fitterforachurchthanahouse。
　　Whilewewerewaitingforadmission，Mrs。Macallanpointedtothelow，darklineoftheoldbuilding。
　　"Thereisoneofhismadnesses，"shesaid。"ThespeculatorsinthisnewneighborhoodhaveofferedhimIdon’tknowhowmanythousandpoundsforthegroundthathousestandson。Itwasoriginallythemanor—houseofthedistrict。Dexterpurchaseditmanyyearssinceinoneofhisfreaksoffancy。Hehasnooldfamilyassociationswiththeplace；thewallsareallbuttumblingabouthisears；andthemoneyofferedwouldreallybeofusetohim。Butno！Herefusedtheproposaloftheenterprisingspeculatorsbyletterinthesewords：’Myhouseisastandingmonumentofthepicturesqueandbeautiful，amidthemean，dishonest，andgrovelingconstructionsofamean，dishonest，andgrovelingage。Ikeepmyhouse，gentlemen，asausefullessontoyou。Lookatitwhileyouarebuildingaroundme，andblush，ifyoucan，foryourwork。’Wasthereeversuchanabsurdletterwrittenyet？Hush！Ihearfootstepsinthegarden。Herecomeshiscousin。Hiscousinisawoman。Imayaswelltellyouthat，oryoumightmistakeherforamaninthedark。"
　　Arough，deepvoice，whichIshouldcertainlyneverhavesupposedtobethevoiceofawoman，hailedusfromtheinnersideofthepaling。
　　"Who’sthere？"
　　"Mrs。Macallan，"answeredmymother—in—law。
　　"Whatdoyouwant？"
　　"WewanttoseeDexter。"
　　"Youcan’tseehim。"
　　"Whynot？"
　　"Whatdidyousayyournamewas？"
　　"Macallan。Mrs。Macallan。EustaceMacallan’smother。_Now_doyouunderstand？"
　　Thevoicemutteredandgruntedbehindthepaling，andakeyturnedinthelockofthegate。
　　Admittedtothegarden，inthedeepshadowoftheshrubs，Icouldseenothingdistinctlyofthewomanwiththeroughvoice，exceptthatsheworeaman’shat。Closingthegatebehindus，withoutawordofwelcomeorexplanation，sheledthewaytothehouse。
　　Mrs。Macallanfollowedhereasily，knowingtheplace；andI
　　walkedinMrs。Macallan’sfootstepsascloselyasIcould。"Thisisanicefamily，"mymother—in—lawwhisperedtome。"Dexter’scousinistheonlywomaninthehouse——andDexter’scousinisanidiot。"
　　Weenteredaspacioushallwithalowceiling，dimlylightedatitsfurtherendbyonesmalloil—lamp。Icouldseethattherewerepicturesonthegrim，brownwalls，butthesubjectsrepresentedwereinvisibleintheobscureandshadowylight。
　　Mrs。Macallanaddressedherselftothespeechlesscousinwiththeman’shat。
　　"Nowtellme，"shesaid。"Whycan’tweseeDexter？"
　　Thecousintookasheetofpaperoffthetable，andhandedittoMrs。Macallan。
　　"TheMaster’swriting，"saidthisstrangecreature，inahoarsewhisper，asifthebareideaof"theMaster"terrifiedher。"Readit。Andstayorgo，whichyouplease。"
　　Sheopenedaninvisiblesidedoorinthewall，maskedbyoneofthepictures——disappearedthroughitlikeaghost——andleftustogetheraloneinthehall。
　　Mrs。Macallanapproachedtheoil—lamp，andlookedbyitslightatthesheetofpaperwhichthewomanhadgiventoher。Ifollowedandpeepedoverhershoulderwithoutceremony。Thepaperexhibitedwrittencharacters，tracedinawonderfullylargeandfirmhandwriting。HadIcaughttheinfectionofmadnessintheairofthehouse？OrdidIreallyseebeforemethesewords？
　　"NOTICE。——Myimmenseimaginationisatwork。Visionsofheroesunrollthemselvesbeforeme。Ireanimateinmyselfthespiritsofthedepartedgreat。Mybrainsareboilinginmyhead。Anypersonswhodisturbme，underexistingcircumstances，willdoitattheperiloftheirlives。——DEXTER。"
　　Mrs。Macallanlookedaroundatmequietlywithhersardonicsmile。
　　"Doyoustillpersistinwantingtobeintroducedtohim？"sheasked。
　　Themockeryinthetoneofthequestionrousedmypride。I
　　determinedthatIwouldnotbethefirsttogiveway。
　　"NotifIamputtingyouinperilofyourlife，ma’am，"I
　　answered，pertlyenough，pointingtothepaperinherhand。
　　Mymother—in—lawreturnedtothehalltable，andputthepaperbackonitwithoutcondescendingtoreply。Shethenledthewaytoanarchedrecessonourrighthand，beyondwhichIdimlydiscernedabroadflightofoakenstairs。
　　"Followme，"saidMrs。Macallan，mountingthestairsinthedark。
　　"Iknowwheretofindhim。"
　　Wegropedourwayupthestairstothefirstlanding。Thenextflightofsteps，turninginthereversedirection，wasfaintlyilluminated，likethehallbelow，byoneoil—lamp，placedinsomeinvisiblepositionaboveus。Ascendingthesecondflightofstairsandcrossingashortcorridor，wediscoveredthelamp，throughtheopendoorofaquaintlyshapedcircularroom，burningonthemantel—piece。Itslightilluminatedastripofthicktapestry，hangingloosefromtheceilingtothefloor，onthewalloppositetothedoorbywhichwehadentered。
　　Mrs。Macallandrewasidethestripoftapestry，and，signingmetofollowher，passedbehindit。
　　"Listen！"shewhispered。
　　Standingontheinnersideofthetapestry，Ifoundmyselfinadarkrecessorpassage，attheendofwhicharayoflightfromthelampshowedmeacloseddoor。Ilistened，andheardontheothersideofthedoorashoutingvoice，accompaniedbyanextraordinaryrumblingandwhistlingsound，travelingbackwardandforward，aswellasIcouldjudge，overagreatspace。Nowtherumblingandthewhistlingwouldreachtheirclimaxofloudness，andwouldovercometheresonantnotesoftheshoutingvoice。Thenagainthoseloudersoundsgraduallyretreatedintodistance，andtheshoutingvoicemadeitselfheardasthemoreaudiblesoundofthetwo。Thedoormusthavebeenofprodigioussolidity。ListenasintentlyasImight，Ifailedtocatchthearticulatewords（ifany）whichthevoicewaspronouncing，andI
　　wasequallyatalosstopenetratethecausewhichproducedtherumblingandwhistlingsounds。
　　"Whatcanpossiblybegoingon，"IwhisperedtoMrs。Macallan，"ontheothersideofthatdoor？"
　　"Stepsoftly，"mymother—in—lawanswered，"andcomeandsee。"
　　Shearrangedthetapestrybehindussoascompletelytoshutoutthelightinthecircularroom。Thennoiselesslyturningthehandle，sheopenedtheheavydoor。
　　Wekeptourselvesconcealedintheshadowoftherecess，andlookedthroughtheopendoorway。
　　Isaw（orfanciedIsaw，intheobscurity）alongroomwithalowceiling。Thedyinggleamofanill—keptfireformedtheonlylightbywhichIcouldjudgeofobjectsanddistances。Redlyilluminatingthecentralportionoftheroom，oppositetowhichwewerestanding，thefire—lightlefttheextremitiesshadowedinalmosttotaldarkness。IhadbarelytimetonoticethisbeforeI
　　heardtherumblingandwhistlingsoundsapproachingme。Ahighchaironwheelsmovedby，throughthefieldofredlight，carryingashadowyfigurewithfloatinghair，andarmsfuriouslyraisedandloweredworkingthemachinerythatpropelledthechairatitsutmostrateofspeed。"IamNapoleon，atthesunriseofAusterlitz！"shoutedthemaninthechairashesweptpastmeonhisrumblingandwhistlingwheels，intheredglowofthefire—light。"Igivetheword，andthronesrock，andkingsfall，andnationstremble，andmenbytensofthousandsfightandbleedanddie！"Thechairrushedoutofsight，andtheshoutingmaninitbecameanotherhero。"IamNelson！"theringingvoicecriednow。"IamleadingthefleetatTrafalgar。Iissuemycommands，propheticallyconsciousofvictoryanddeath。Iseemyownapotheosis，mypublicfuneral，mynation’stears，myburialinthegloriouschurch。Theagesrememberme，andthepoetssingmypraiseinimmortalverse！"Thestridentwheelsturnedatthefarendoftheroomandcameback。Thefantasticandfrightfulapparition，manandmachineryblendedinone——thenewCentaur，halfman，halfchair——flewbymeagaininthedyinglight。"IamShakespeare！"criedthefranticcreaturenow。"Iamwriting’Lear，’thetragedyoftragedies。Ancientsandmoderns，Iamthepoetwhotowersoverthemall。Light！light！thelinesflowoutlikelavafromtheeruptionofmyvolcanicmind。Light！light！
　　forthepoetofalltimetowritethewordsthatliveforever！"
　　Hegroundandtorehiswaybacktowardthemiddleoftheroom。Asheapproachedthefire—placealastmorselofunburnedcoal（orwood）burstintomomentaryflame，andshowedtheopendoorway。Inthatmomenthesawus！Thewheel—chairstoppedwithashockthatshookthecrazyoldflooroftheroom，altereditscourse，andflewatuswiththerushofawildanimal。Wedrewback，justintimetoescapeit，againstthewalloftherecess。Thechairpassedon，andburstasidethehangingtapestry。Thelightofthelampinthecircularroompouredinthroughthegap。Thecreatureinthechaircheckedhisfuriouswheels，andlookedbackoverhisshoulderwithanimpishcuriosityhorribletosee。
　　"HaveIrunoverthem？HaveIgroundthemtopowderforpresumingtointrudeonme？"hesaidtohimself。Astheexpressionofthisamiabledoubtpassedhislipshiseyeslightedonus。HismindinstantlyveeredbackagaintoShakespeareandKingLear。
　　"GonerilandRegan！"hecried。"Mytwounnaturaldaughters，myshe—devilchildrencometomockatme！"
　　"Nothingofthesort，"saidmymother—in—law，asquietlyasifshewereaddressingaperfectlyreasonablebeing。"Iamyouroldfriend，Mrs。Macallan；andIhavebroughtEustaceMacallan’ssecondwifetoseeyou。"
　　Theinstantshepronouncedthoselastwords，"EustaceMacallan’ssecondwife，"themaninthechairsprangoutofitwithashrillcryofhorror，asifshehadshothim。Foronemomentwesawaheadandbodyintheair，absolutelydeprivedofthelowerlimbs。
　　Themomentafter，theterriblecreaturetouchedtheflooraslightlyasamonkey，onhishands。Thegrotesquehorrorofthesceneculminatedinhishoppingawayonhishands，ataprodigiousspeed，untilhereachedthefire—placeinthelongroom。Therehecrouchedoverthedyingembers，shudderingandshivering，andmuttering，"Oh，pityme，pityme！"dozensanddozensoftimestohimself。
　　ThiswasthemanwhoseadviceIhadcometoask——whoassistanceI
　　hadconfidentlycountedoninmyhourofneed。
　　CHAPTERXXV。
　　MISERRIMUSDEXTER——SECONDVIEW
　　THOROUGHLYdisheartenedanddisgusted，and（ifImusthonestlyconfessit）thoroughlyfrightenedtoo，IwhisperedtoMrs。
　　Macallan，"Iwaswrong，andyouwereright。Letusgo。"
　　TheearsofMiserrimusDextermusthavebeenassensitiveastheearsofadog。Heheardmesay，"Letusgo。"
　　"No！"hecalledout。"BringEustaceMacallan’ssecondwifeinhere。Iamagentleman——Imustapologizetoher。Iamastudentofhumancharacter——Iwishtoseeher。"
　　Thewholemanappearedtohaveundergoneacompletetransformation。Hespokeinthegentlestofvoices，andhesighedhystericallywhenhehaddone，likeawomanrecoveringfromaburstoftears。Wasitrevivingcourageorrevivingcuriosity？
　　WhenMrs。Macallansaidtome，"Thefitisovernow；doyoustillwishtogoaway？"Ianswered，"No；Iamreadytogoin。"
　　"Haveyourecoveredyourbeliefinhimalready？"askedmymother—in—law，inhermercilesslysatiricalway。
　　"Ihaverecoveredfrommyterrorofhim，"Ireplied。
　　"IamsorryIterrifiedyou，"saidthesoftvoiceatthefire—place。"SomepeoplethinkIamalittlemadattimes。Youcame，Isuppose，atoneofthetimes——ifsomepeopleareright。I
　　admitthatIamavisionary。Myimaginationrunsawaywithme，andIsayanddostrangethings。Onthoseoccasions，anybodywhoremindsmeofthathorribleTrialthrowsmebackagainintothepast，andcausesmeunutterablenervoussuffering。Iamaverytender—heartedman。Asthenecessaryconsequence（insuchaworldasthis），Iamamiserablewretch。Acceptmyexcuses。Comein，bothofyou。Comeinandpityme。"
　　Achildwouldnothavebeenfrightenedofhimnow。Achildwouldhavegoneinandpitiedhim。
　　Theroomwasgettingdarkeranddarker。WecouldjustseethecrouchingfigureofMiserrimusDexterattheexpiringfire——andthatwasall。
　　"Arewetohavenolight？"askedMrs。Macallan。"Andisthisladytoseeyou，whenthelightcomes，outofyourchair？"
　　Heliftedsomethingbrightandmetallic，hangingroundhisneck，andblewonitaseriesofshrill，trilling，bird—likenotes。
　　Afteranintervalhewasansweredbyasimilarseriesofnotessoundingfaintlyinsomedistantregionofthehouse。
　　"Arieliscoming，"hesaid。"Composeyourself，MammaMacallan；
　　Arielwithmakemepresentabletoalady’seyes。"
　　Hehoppedawayonhishandsintothedarknessattheendoftheroom。"Waitalittle，saidMrs。Macallan，"andyouwillhaveanothersurprise——youwillseethe’delicateAriel。’"
　　Weheardheavyfootstepsinthecircularroom。
　　"Ariel！"sighedMiserrimusDexteroutofthedarkness，inhissoftestnotes。
　　Tomyastonishmentthecoarse，masculinevoiceofthecousinintheman’shat——theCaliban’s，ratherthantheAriel’svoice——answered，"Here！"
　　"Mychair，Ariel！"
　　Thepersonthusstrangelymisnameddrewasidethetapestry，soastoletinmorelight；thenenteredtheroom，pushingthewheeledchairbeforeher。ShestoopedandliftedMiserrimusDexterfromthefloor，likeachild。Beforeshecouldputhimintothechair，hesprangoutofherarmswithalittlegleefulcry，andalightedonhisseat，likeabirdalightingonitsperch！
　　"Thelamp，"saidMiserrimusDexter，"andthelooking—glass。——Pardonme，"headded，addressingus，"forturningmybackonyou。Youmustn’tseemeuntilmyhairissettorights。——Ariel！thebrush，thecomb，andtheperfumes！"
　　Carryingthelampinonehand，thelooking—glassintheother，andthebrush（withthecombstuckinit）betweenherteeth，ArieltheSecond，otherwiseDexter’scousin，presentedherselfplainlybeforemeforthefirsttime。Icouldnowseethegirl’sround，fleshy，inexpressiveface，herraylessandcolorlesseyes，hercoarsenoseandheavychin。Acreaturehalfalive；animperfectlydevelopedanimalinshapelessformcladinaman’spilotjacket，andtreadinginaman’sheavylacedboots，withnothingbutanoldred—flannelpetticoat，andabrokencombinherfrowzyflaxenhair，totellusthatshewasawoman——suchwastheinhospitablepersonwhohadreceivedusinthedarknesswhenwefirstenteredthehouse。
　　Thiswonderfulvalet，collectinghermaterialsfordressingherstillmorewonderfulmaster’shair，gavehimthelooking—glass（ahand—mirror），andaddressedherselftoherwork。
　　Shecombed，shebrushed，sheoiled，sheperfumedtheflowinglocksandthelongsilkybeardofMiserrimusDexterwiththestrangestmixtureofdullnessanddexteritythatIeversaw。Doneinbrutesilence，withalumpishlookandaclumsygait，theworkwasperfectlywelldonenevertheless。Theimpinthechairsuperintendedthewholeproceedingcriticallybymeansofhishand—mirror。HewastoodeeplyinterestedinthisoccupationtospeakuntilsomeoftheconcludingtouchestohisbeardbroughtthemisnamedArielinfrontofhim，andsoturnedherfullfacetowardthepartoftheroominwhichMrs。MacallanandIwerestanding。Thenheaddressedus，takingespecialcare，however，nottoturnhisheadourwaywhilehistoiletwasstillincomplete。
　　"MammaMacallan，"hesaid，"whatistheChristiannameofyourson’ssecondwife？"
　　"Whydoyouwanttoknow？"askedmymother—in—law。
　　"IwanttoknowbecauseIcan’taddressheras’Mrs。EustaceMacallan。’"
　　"Whynot？"
　　"Itrecalls_theother_Mrs。EustaceMacallan。IfIamremindedofthosehorribledaysatGleninchmyfortitudewillgiveway——I
　　shallburstoutscreamingagain。"
　　Hearingthis，Ihastenedtointerpose。
　　"MynameisValeria，"Isaid。
　　"ARomanname，"remarkedMiserrimusDexter。"Ilikeit。MymindiscastintheRomanmold。MybodilybuildwouldhavebeenRomanifIhadbeenbornwithlegs。IshallcallyouMrs。Valeria，unlessyoudisapproveofit。"
　　IhastenedtosaythatIwasfarfromdisapprovingofit。
　　"Verygood，"saidMiserrimusDexter"Mrs。Valeria，doyouseethefaceofthiscreatureinfrontofme？"
　　Hepointedwiththehand—mirrortohiscousinasunconcernedlyashemighthavepointedtoadog。Hiscousin，onherside，tooknomorenoticethanadogwouldhavetakenofthecontemptuousphrasebywhichhehaddesignatedher。Shewentoncombingandoilinghisbeardascomposedlyasever。
　　"Itisthefaceofanidiot，isn’tit？"pursuedMiserrimusDexter！"Lookather！Sheisamerevegetable。Acabbageinagardenhasasmuchlifeandexpressioninitasthatgirlexhibitsatthepresentmoment。Wouldyoubelievetherewaslatentintelligence，affection，pride，fidelity，insuchahalf—developedbeingasthis？"
　　Iwasreallyashamedtoanswerhim。Quiteneedlessly！Theimpenetrableyoungwomanwentonwithhermaster’sbeard。A
　　machinecouldnothavetakenlessnoticeofthelifeandthetalkarounditthanthisincomprehensiblecreature。
　　"_I_havegotatthatlatentaffection，pride，fidelity，andtherestofit，"resumedMiserrimusDexter。"_I_holdthekeytothatdormantIntelligence。Grandthought！NowlookatherwhenI
　　speak。（Inamedher，poorwretch，inoneofmyironicalmoments。
　　Shehasgottolikehername，justasadoggetstolikehiscollar。）Now，Mrs。Valeria，lookandlisten。——Ariel！"
　　Thegirl’sdullfacebegantobrighten。Thegirl’smechanicallymovinghandstopped，andheldthecombinsuspense。
　　"Ariel！youhavelearnedtodressmyhairandanointmybeard，haven’tyou？"
　　Herfacestillbrightened。"Yes！yes！yes！"sheanswered，eagerly。"AndyousayIhavelearnedtodoitwell，don’tyou？"
　　"Isaythat。Wouldyouliketoletanybodyelsedoitforyou？"
　　Hereyesmeltedsoftlyintolightandlife。HerstrangeunwomanlyvoicesanktothegentlesttonesthatIhadheardfromheryet。
　　"Nobodyelseshalldoitforme，"shesaidatonceproudlyandtenderly。"Nobody，aslongasIlive，shalltouchyoubutme。"
　　"Noteventheladythere？"askedMiserrimusDexter，pointingbackwardwithhishand—mirrortotheplaceatwhichIwasstanding。
　　Hereyessuddenlyflashed，herhandsuddenlyshookthecombatme，inaburstofjealousrage。
　　"Lethertry！"criedthepoorcreature，raisinghervoiceagaintoitshoarsestnotes。"Lethertouchyouifshedares！"
　　Dexterlaughedatthechildishoutbreak。"Thatwilldo，mydelicateAriel，"hesaid。"IdismissyourIntelligenceforthepresent。Relapseintoyourformerself。Finishmybeard。"
　　Shepassivelyresumedherwork。Thenewlightinhereyes，thenewexpressioninherface，fadedlittlebylittleanddiedout。
　　Inanotherminutethefacewasasvacantandaslumpishasbefore；thehandsdidtheirworkagainwiththelifelessdexteritywhichhadsopainfullyimpressedmewhenshefirsttookupthebrush。MiserrimusDexterappearedtobeperfectlysatisfiedwiththeseresults。
　　"Ithoughtmylittleexperimentmightinterestyou，"hesaid。
　　"Youseehowitis？Thedormantintelligenceofmycuriouscousinislikethedormantsoundinamusicalinstrument。Iplayuponit——anditanswerstomytouch。Shelikesbeingplayedupon。Buthergreatdelightistohearmetellastory。Ipuzzlehertothevergeofdistraction；andthemoreIconfuseherthebettershelikesthestory。Itisthegreatestfun；youreallymustseeitsomeday。"Heindulgedhimselfinalastlookatthemirror。
　　"Ha！"hesaid，complacently；"nowIshalldo。Vanish，Ariel！"
　　Shetrampedoutoftheroominherheavyboots，withthemuteobedienceofatrainedanimal。Isaid"Good—night"asshepassedme。Sheneitherreturnedthesalutationnorlookedatme：thewordssimplyproducednoeffectonherdullsenses。Theonevoicethatcouldreachherwassilent。Shehadrelapsedoncemoreintothevacantinanimatecreaturewhohadopenedthegatetous，untilitpleasedMiserrimusDextertospeaktoheragain。
　　"Valeria！"saidmymother—in—law。"Ourmodesthostiswaitingtoseewhatyouthinkofhim。"
　　Whilemyattentionwasfixedonhiscousinhehadwheeledhischairaroundsoastofaceme。withthelightofthelampfallingfullonhim。InmentioninghisappearanceasawitnessattheTrial，IfindIhaveborrowed（withoutmeaningtodoso）frommyexperienceofhimatthislatertime。Isawplainlynowthebrightintelligentfaceandthelargeclearblueeyes，thelustrouswavinghairofalightchestnutcolor，thelongdelicatewhitehands，andthemagnificentthroatandchestwhichIhaveelsewheredescribed。ThedeformitywhichdegradedanddestroyedthemanlybeautyofhisheadandbreastwashiddenfromviewbyanOrientalrobeofmanycolors，thrownoverthechairlikeacoverlet。Hewasclothedinajacketofblackvelvet，fastenedlooselyacrosshischestwithlargemalachitebuttons；andheworelacerufflesattheendsofhissleeves，inthefashionofthelastcentury。Itmaywellhavebeenduetowantofperceptiononmypart——butIcouldseenothingmadinhim，nothinginanywayrepelling，ashenowlookedatme。TheonedefectthatI
　　coulddiscoverinhisfacewasattheoutercornersofhiseyes，justunderthetemple。Herewhenhelaughed，andinalesserdegreewhenhesmiled，theskincontractedintoquaintlittlewrinklesandfolds，whichlookedstrangelyoutofharmonywiththealmostyouthfulappearanceoftherestofhisface。Astohisotherfeatures，themouth，sofarashisbeardandmustachepermittedmetoseeit，wassmallanddelicatelyformed；thenose——perfectlyshapedonthestraightGrecianmodel——wasperhapsalittletoothin，judgedbycomparisonwiththefullcheeksandthehighmassiveforehead。Lookingathimasawhole（andspeakingofhim，ofcourse，fromawoman’s，notaphysiognomist’spointofview），Icanonlydescribehimasbeinganunusuallyhandsomeman。ApainterwouldhavereveledinhimasamodelforSt。John。Andayounggirl，ignorantofwhattheOrientalrobehidfromview，wouldhavesaidtoherself，theinstantshelookedathim，"Hereistheheroofmydreams！"
　　Hisblueeyes——largeastheeyesofawoman，clearastheeyesofachild——restedonmethemomentIturnedtowardhim，withastrangelyvaryingplayofexpression，whichatonceinterestedandperplexedme。
　　Nowtherewasdoubt——uneasy，painfuldoubt——inthelook；andnowagainitchangedbrightlytoapproval，soopenandunrestrainedthatavainwomanmighthavefanciedshehadmadeaconquestofhimatfirstsight。Suddenlyanewemotionseemedtotakepossessionofhim。Hiseyessank，hisheaddrooped；heliftedhishandswithagestureofregret。Hemutteredandmurmuredtohimself；pursuingsomesecretandmelancholytrainofthought，whichseemedtoleadhimfurtherandfurtherawayfrompresentobjectsofinterest，andtoplungehimdeeperanddeeperintroubledrecollectionsofthepast。HereandthereIcaughtsomeofthewords。LittlebylittleIfoundmyselftryingtofathomwhatwasdarklypassinginthisstrangeman’smind。
　　"Afarmorecharmingface，"Iheardhimsay。"Butno——notamorebeautifulfigure。Whatfigurewasevermorebeautifulthanhers？
　　Something——butnotall——ofherenchantinggrace。Whereistheresemblancewhichhasbroughtherbacktome？Intheposeofthefigure，perhaps。Inthemovementofthefigure，perhaps。Poormartyredangel！Whatalife！Andwhatadeath！whatadeath！"