THE BLIND GIRL
In compliment to the great poet of his nation, Herr Schwartz
dignified his English home with the name of Goethe Cottage. It was a
one-storeyed house of no great size, built somewhat in the style of a
bungalow, and standing in a fairly large garden, at the bottom of a
rural _cul-de-sac_, termed Alma Road. Shortly after his visit to the
lawyer, Dr. Ellis called at this place, and having advised Schwartz of
his coming, found the German and Captain Garret awaiting his arrival.
So eager were they to welcome him that they appeared at the gate
before the bell ceased to jingle.
"Mine goot doctor," cried Schwartz, beaming, with outstretched hands,
"you haf gome at last to zee boor liddle Hilda!"
"Glad to see you, Dr. Ellis," said Garret, jerking out his words in
abrupt military style. "We have long expected your visit. Come in."
The three walked towards the house through a theatrical-looking
garden, with many coloured glass balls ranged on squat pedestals along
the borders of the flower-beds. There was also a tiny fountain, in
which a small Triton spouted a smaller stream of water out of a
conch-shell, an arbour fiery red with Virginia creeper, and wide walks
of white pebbles, which threw back a glare, even under the pale rays
of the late autumn sun. The house was surrounded by a wide verandah
with gaily-striped red and white sun-blinds, cane lounging-chairs and
marble-topped iron tables. Within, Ellis found the place luxuriously
furnished, but also theatrical in taste, and he was shown into a
drawing-room where intrusive colours of scarlet and magenta inflicted
torture on a sensitive eye. Schwartz had money and a love of comfort;
but the complacent way in which he looked round this terrible
apartment showed that he was absolutely without the artistic sense. A
woman might have softened the general glaring effect of the room; but
the only woman in the house was blind, and could have no idea of the
crude, ill-matched colouring by which she was surrounded.
When they sat down Ellis looked at his companions, and was astonished
how ill Schwartz appeared to be. Garret, as formerly, was haggard,
lean and gentlemanly, with the same military bearing and bored
expression. Evidently he was a man who had, as the saying is, "gone
the pace," and now, in his middle age--he was between forty and
fifty--lacked vitality and zest. As usual he was carefully dressed,
and looked eminently well-bred and well-groomed beside his patron and
friend. Schwartz himself was less complacent and jolly, also he was
lean in comparison with his former portly figure, and his clothes hung
loosely on his limbs. Instead of his face being smooth and red, it was
now pallid, and wrinkled, and although he attempted to be his usual
happy self, the attempt was an obvious effort. Occasionally he stole a
troubled glance at the Captain, but that gentleman hardly looked at
him and manifested supreme indifference. Only when the conversation
had to do with Hilda did he wake up and take any interest in what was
going on.
"You are not looking well yourself, Herr Schwartz," said Ellis, when
the trio were seated and refreshments had been produced by the
hospitable German.
"Ach! I am ferry vell," replied Schwartz, hastily. "The hot dimes of
the zun haf made me thin, and I haf moch thinking apout the liddle
Hilda."
"Oh, you must keep up your spirits about that. I may be able to
restore her sight. Was she born blind?"
"No," interposed Garret. "Took notice like other children for a few
weeks, but afterwards the sight went. Do you think you can cure her?"
"I must make an examination first. It is impossible for me to give an
opinion before then."
"Das is right, doctor. You vill zee the liddle Hilda at vonce. I would
gif all my moneys if you could make her zee."
"You are very fond of her, Herr Schwartz?"
Tears came into the German's eyes, for after the manner of his nation
he was emotional and sentimental and easily touched. "The liddle Hilda
is the light of mine life," he said, in tones of deep feeling. "I haf
lofed her for years, and she is to me mine own child. I am her zecond
vater."
"Father and mother and everything else," jerked Garret. "Much better
than a scamp like me."
"No, no," protested Schwartz, but with a ring of insincerity in his
voice, which Ellis at once detected. "You are a goot man, mein frind."
"Can I see Miss Garret now?"
"Dis ferry moment," cried the German, getting up in a violent hurry.
"Will you gome with me, doctor? And you, Garret?"
"I shall stay here, Schwartz. Better have as few in the room as
possible, or Hilda will be nervous."
"Ach! is dat zo? Then I vill not sday. Gome, doctor."
The room at the back of the house, into which Schwartz introduced
Ellis, was like a fairy palace. A large, airy, high-roofed apartment,
decked and furnished with rainbow hues. Chinese paper of the
willow-plate pattern figured on the walls, curtains blue as a
midsummer sky draped the French windows, the carpet was of the same
cerulean tint, and the furniture was upholstered in azure and white.
Hothouse flowers were placed in every corner, there was a grand piano,
and many birds in gilded cages made the room re-echo with tuneful
strains. The windows were many and large, admitting ample light, and
looking out on to a velvet lawn bounded by a tall hedge of laurel.
Ellis had never seen a more pretty or cheerful apartment, and felt sad
at the irony which placed amidst all this beauty and light so
attractive to the eye a blind girl. She was seated at the piano when
they entered, but rose when she heard the door open.
Hilda Garret was tall for her age, in spite of the tender diminutive
bestowed on her by Schwartz. Her face was as pale as marble, and as
beautiful as that of the Venus de Medici. Indeed, in her white robe,
with pallid face and still looks, she was not unlike a statue. The
lack of eyesight took away all expression, and she lived and moved in
a world of shadows. Ellis was profoundly touched by her beauty and
helplessness, and by the tender little cry she uttered when Schwartz
took her hand.
"Mine lofely laty, I haf brought Dr. Ellis to zee you. He is mine goot
friend, and glever. He vill mak you to zee, mine heart."
"Oh, doctor," said Hilda, clasping her hands, and speaking in a low,
but musical voice, "can you give me back my sight?"
"That I cannot say as yet," replied Ellis. "I cannot perform miracles.
If your sight can be restored, I hope to restore it. But I must first
ask you a few questions and examine your eyes."
"Aha! I vill go away."
"No, no, papa, you must stay. I wish my father would come in also. I
want him to hold my hand and give me courage."
"Zo!" replied Schwartz, with a sad expression at this preference.
"Vait, mine liddle Hilda, I vill pring your vater to you."
Hilda nodded and a charming smile overspread her pale face. When
Schwartz left the room she asked Ellis to let her pass her hand over
his face, as she wished to know his looks. Ellis readily consented,
and Hilda, with the delicate touch of the blind, ran her fingers over
his features. "You are nice-looking," she said naïvely, when this was
done. "I like nice-looking people."
"Thank you," answered Ellis, laughing. "I am obliged for the
compliment, Miss Garret. And now I must ask you a few questions."
To this Hilda readily consented. It is not necessary to set forth the
conversation or examination _in extensor_, as the questions were
purely technical.
Captain Garret entered, and held Hilda's hand while Ellis made an
examination of her eyes. This took some time, but was unsatisfactory,
as Ellis could not bring himself to pronounce an opinion. Privately he
thought that he could cure the cataract by an operation; but lacking
the self-confidence which a great man should have, he hesitated to
express his private views.
"I must make another examination," he said, after an exhaustive
conversation, "before I can commit myself to an opinion. Yet I think I
can give you some hope."
"Oh, father!" Hilda uttered the words in a thrilling voice, and Ellis
glanced at Captain Garret. He did not look pleased; indeed he frowned
and withdrew his hand from that of his daughter. It occurred to Ellis
that the Captain did not wish Hilda to regain her sight. The
expression of anger was only a flash, but Ellis saw it, and gained the
above impression. Had Schwartz been in the room, the Captain might
have controlled himself better, but Schwartz had not returned after
Hilda's cry for her father. Even on his short acquaintance, Ellis
could not but think how the good German must have suffered from his
voluntary exclusion from his darling. However, Garret said nothing at
the moment, and the doctor addressed himself to Hilda.
"I shall come and see you in two or three days," he said. "But you
must keep yourself cheerful and not mope. Have you no companion?"
"Schwartz and myself," put in Garret.
"I mean no female companion?"
"Janet Gordon comes to see me sometimes," said Hilda. "I am very fond
of her. She is so kind and good. I wish she would come again."
"She shall come again, Miss Garret. I will speak to her myself."
Garret uttered an exclamation. "Do you know her, doctor?"
"Very well. She is staying at Myrtle Villa with her sister, Mrs.
Moxton."
"H'm!" said the Captain, with a glance at Hilda. "I don't know if
Schwartz will like her to come here again."
"Why not?"
"I will tell you outside, or perhaps Schwartz will tell you himself."
"But I want Janet to come," cried Hilda, piteously. "I love her!"
Again the flash of anger passed over Garret's face, but he only patted
her hand softly. "If Schwartz permits her to come, she shall come," he
said; "and now, doctor, we had better go."
"I think so. Good-bye, Miss Garret. I may be able to cure you, and if
you want Miss Gordon, you shall have her for a companion."
"Thank you, doctor, thank you," and as they left the room Hilda began
to play a triumphal march on the piano. The words of Ellis had
inspired her with hope and confidence.
Captain Garret immediately addressed the doctor when they left the
room. "I could not speak to you plainly, in there," he said abruptly,
"but I have the strongest objection to Miss Gordon coming here."
"On account of the murder?"
"Yes. Hilda knows nothing of that, therefore I did not explain. If
Miss Gordon is her companion, she may hear of the crime; and think of
the shock it would be to her delicate nerves!"
"She will never hear anything of the crime from Miss Gordon. That lady
is most discreet."
"She is clever, I don't deny, doctor--too clever, in my opinion. But
she is shady. She sold programmes at the Merryman Music-Hall; she is
not the kind of companion I should choose for my daughter."
This came well from Captain Garret, who had been cashiered for
cheating, who lived on another man's money, and who was an out-and-out
adventurer. Ellis felt such a contempt for him that he did not argue
the question. "Let us hear what Herr Schwartz has to say," he said.
"Schwartz will be of my opinion," said the Captain, gravely.
But here, it appeared, Garret was wrong. Schwartz listened attentively
to the recommendation of Ellis that Miss Gordon should be brought to
Goethe Cottage as a companion for Hilda. His face grew a shade paler
to the doctor's attentive eye, and he appeared to be uneasy. After a
sharp glance at Ellis, he made up his mind and spoke it.
"Miss Corton shall gome!" he declared decisively.
"Schwartz!" said Garret, in a warning tone, whereat the usually placid
German flew into a rage.
"I say she shall gome!" he cried, in his deepest tones. "Chanet is a
goot girl; she vill not dalk of murders and wickednesses. She is
glever!"
Garret muttered something not precisely complimentary to Janet, and
turned away. The German looked after him with an anxious expression;
but finally turned to Ellis with a look of relief. "Dell Chanet to
gome," he said, "but she must zay notings of the murders."
"I'll answer for her there," said Ellis, cheerfully.
"And you can make right the liddle Hilda?"
"I think so; but I can answer you for certain next time I come. I
shall bring Miss Gordon with me," and so, in spite of Captain Garret,
it was arranged.