Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2028 page)

Grace
. Don’t talk so! (
She hesitates, and takes refuge in a commonplace phrase.
) If there is anything I could do for you —
 
— ?

Mercy
(
aside
). She might take my hand. No! (
To Grace.
) Can you change my identity? Can you give me the name and the place of an innocent woman? if I only had
your
chance! if I only had
your
reputation and
your
prospects! No more of that! Stay here while I go back to my work. I will see that your clothes are dried. You shall wear
my
clothes as short a time as possible! (
She opens the window shutter.
) The sky is clearing. In a few hours more you may resume your journey — the morning will dawn. (
She turns to go into the outer room. At the same moment the French surgeon draws aside the curtain, and enters with signs of agitation in his face and manner.
MERCY
addresses him.
) What news?

The Surgeon
. The Germans are advancing on us.

(GRACE
clasps her hands in terror.
)

Mercy
. Do we defend the position?

The Surgeon
. Impossible! We are outnumbered, as usual. (
A drum is heard in the distance.
) There is the retreat sounded. In five minutes more we must be out of this place.

Grace
(
to the Surgeon
). Take me with you! Oh! sir, don’t, don’t let me fall into their hands again!

Mercy
(
to the Surgeon
). What is to become of the sick and wounded?

The Surgeon
. We can take the strongest of them away with us. The others must be left here. There will be a place in the baggage waggon for you.

Grace
. And for me, too?

Mercy
(
to the Surgeon
). Take
her
in the waggon. My place is with the suffering wretches whom you leave behind.

Grace
(
hurrying the Surgeon out
). Let us go! let us go!

The Surgeon
(
releasing himself
). Compose yourself, madam. When the waggon is ready, I will return and fetch you.

(
He goes out by the centre opening. The report of rifle-shots is heard in the distance.
)

Grace
(
with a cry of terror
). What’s that?

Mercy
(
calmly opening the shutter
). The Germans are attacking the French outposts

Grace
. Take me away! We shall be killed if we stay here! (
She looks in astonishment at
MERCY.) Are you made of iron? Will nothing frighten you?

Mercy
(
quietly
). I have nothing worth living for.

(
A second report of rifle-shots is heard.
GRACE
starts back, with a scream.
)

Grace
. The bullets are flying into the room. I heard one of them go by me. (
She points.
) There it is in the wall! Close the shutter!

(
She springs forward to close the shutter. At the same moment the rifle-shots are heard in a volley.
GRACE
staggers back, and falls near the bed, struck by a bullet. The
SURGEON
reappears at the opening in the centre.
)

The Surgeon
. Any harm done?

Mercy
. I am afraid she is wounded. (
She yields her place to the Surgeon.
) See if she is badly hurt.

The Surgeon
. Take off her cloak — the fastening is twisted round her neck. (MERCY
unfastens the cloak.
) Bring the candle. Quick! — we have no time to lose. (
He lays his hand on
GRACE’S
heart.
MERCY
brings the candle. The
SURGEON
continues, pointing to the place.
) The bullet has struck her on the head. Don’t trouble yourself to hold the light any longer. I can do nothing for her.

Mercy
. Dead?

The Surgeon
. Dead! (MERCY
replaces the light on the table. The
SURGEON
leaves the body near the bed. The cloak falling off remains on the floor.
) The vanguard of the Germans is in sight — we must leave her there. Come away before it is too late.

Mercy
. You have had my answer. Go! (
The
SURGEON
retires.
MERCY
remains near the bedside, and looks at
GRACE.) Not five minutes since I was longing to change places with
her!
Even now I ask myself, Why should death have taken
her,
and spared me? (
Placing the cloak on a chair and listening.
) The French resistance has ceased. The Germans are advancing on the cottage. (MERCY
looks back at the bed.
) She spoke of a lady in England, who would receive her for her father’s sake. Ought I to write to that lady? Yes. (
She takes
GRACE’S
letter-case from the pocket of her cloak, and produces the various papers from the case, after examination, in the order in which she names them.
) Letters from her father and her mother. A journal of her own, kept at Rome. A last letter in a pocket, by itself. This must be the letter of introduction! (
She reads the address.
) “Lady Janet Roy, Mablethorpe House, Kensington, London.” (
She takes out the letter — reads it to herself — then speaks.
) What a chance she has lost! A woman of rank and fortune waiting to receive her! (
She looks towards the bed.
) There she lies — beyond the reach of Lady Janet’s kindness; beyond the need of Lady Janet’s help! And here I am, in the prime of my health and my strength, without a prospect in the world! Oh, Fate! Fate! If
she
could be Mercy Merrick; and if I could be Grace Roseberry — now! (
She pauses with the letter-case in her hand — reflects a moment, and starts violently.
) Why not? I
may
be Grace Roseberry — if I dare! (
She holds up the case in triumph, and goes on with feverish rapidity.
) I have only to keep this, and present myself to Lady Janet in her place. She said herself that she and Lady Janet had never seen each other. Her relations are dead. I know the place where she lived in Canada. I have got her journal at Rome to put me up to what happened there. I have no accomplished lady to personate. She spoke herself — her father’s letter speaks — of her neglected education. Where is the danger of discovery? And what injury am I doing to a woman who is dead? Everything is in my favour. The people who knew me here have gone to return no more. She has got my clothes on — my linen, marked with my name. Her own clothes, marked with
her
name, are drying in the next room. I have only to put them on, and I need never see the Refuge again. (
Another pause. Her tone and manner alter.
) The Refuge! What did Julian Gray say in his sermon of falsehood and deceit? (
The tramp of footsteps and the clash of arms are heard outside.
MERCY
conceals the letter-case in her dress.
) The Germans are here! In a moment more I shall be asked for my name. (
She looks at her dress.
) If I give
her
name, my nurse’s dress may betray me. (
She takes the grey cloak from the chair and puts it on.
) Now I can decide as I please! Which name shall it be? Her name, or mine?

(
Footsteps and voices are heard in the outer room.
IGNATIUS WETZEL
appears at the back, and looks in. The curtain falls again behind him.
)

Wetzel
(
speaking to himself
). A woman sick or wounded. Another woman in attendance on her. And no one else in the room. (
He draws aside the curtain and speaks off.
) No necessity, major, for setting a guard here. The surgeon is wanted — not the soldier. (
He goes to the bed.
)

Horace
(
outside
). Major, find me a quiet room to write in. (
He enters
). This room will do. (
He observes
MERCY,
and speaks aside.
) By Jupiter! what a handsome woman. (
To
MERCY.) Are you French?

Mercy.
I am English.

Wetzel
(
to
MERCY). Can I be of any assistance here?

Mercy.
Your services are useless, sir.

Wetzel.
Has the body been examined by a medical man?

Mercy.
By the surgeon attached to the French ambulance.

Wetzel.
I don’t believe in French surgeons. (
To
HORACE.) Mr. Englishman, lend a hand here, and help me to place her on the bed.

(WETZEL
and
HORACE
lift
GRACE
and place her on the bed.
HORACE
addresses
MERCY.)

Horace.
Is she a countrywoman of yours?

Mercy
(
confusedly
). I believe so. We met here by accident. I know nothing of her.

Wetzel.
Not even her name?

Mercy
(
aside
). I daren’t give her
my
name! (
To
WETZEL.) No — not even her name.

(WETZEL
gets the candle and returns to the bedside. He places the candle on the shelf above the bed, and looks attentively at
GRACE.)

Horace
(
to
MERCY). Pardon me for saying so — you are very young to be alone in war-time in such a place as this.

Wetzel
(
to himself, looking at
GRACE). She reminds me a little of one of my daughters. Let me look again at the wound that killed her. (
He examines
GRACE’S
head.

Horace
(
to
MERCY). The action will be renewed round this cottage by daylight. You ought really to be in a place of safety. My name is Horace Holmcroft. I am an officer in the English army. I can be of use to you if you will let me.

Mercy
(
surprised
). How can you help me?

Horace.
I can pass you through the German lines, and forward you on your way to England.

Mercy
. You must possess extraordinary influence, sir, to be able to do that.

Horace
(
smiling
). I possess the influence that no one can resist — the influence of the press. I am serving here as war correspondent of one of our great English newspapers. If I ask him the commanding officer will grant you a pass. He is just outside there. (HORACE
points to the door on the right.
) What do you say?

Mercy
(
deciding
). I accept your offer, sir.