"Wilkie Collins - The New Magdalen" - читать интересную книгу автора (Collins Wilkie)

circumstances. Society can find a use for me here. My hand is as light, my words
of comfort are as welcome, among those suffering wretches" (she pointed to the
room in which the wounded men were lying) "as if I was the most reputable woman
breathing. And if a stray shot comes my way before the war is over--well!
Society will be rid of me on easy terms."
She stood looking thoughtfully into the wreck of the fire--as if she saw in it
the wreck of her own life. Common humanity made it an act of necessity to say
something to her. Grace considered--advanced a step toward her--stopped--and
took refuge in the most trivial of all the common phrases which one human being
can address to another.
"If there is anything I can do for you--" she began. The sentence, halting
there, was never finished. Miss Roseberry was just merciful enough toward the
lost woman who had rescued and sheltered her to feel that it was needless to say
more.
The nurse lifted her noble head and advanced slowly toward the canvas screen to
return to her duties. "Miss Roseberry might have taken my hand!" she thought to
herself, bitterly. No! Miss Roseberry stood there at a distance, at a loss what
to say next. "What can you do for me?" Mercy asked, stung by the cold courtesy
of her companion into a momentary outbreak of contempt. "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!" She laid one
hand over her bosom, and controlled herself. "Stay here," she resumed, "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."
With those melancholy words--touchingly, not bitterly spoken--she moved to pass
into the kitchen, when she noticed that the pattering sound of the rain against
the window was audible no more. Dropping the canvas for the moment, she retraced
her steps, and, unfastening the wooden shutter, looked out.
The moon was rising dimly in the watery sky; the rain had ceased; the friendly
darkness which had hidden the French position from the German scouts was
lessening every moment. In a few hours more (if nothing happened) the English
lady might resume her journey. In a few hours more the morning would dawn.
Mercy lifted her hand to close the shutter. Before she could fasten it the
report of a rifle-shot reached the cottage from one of the distant posts. It was
followed almost instantly by a second report, nearer and louder than the first.
Mercy paused, with the shutter in her hand, and listened intently for the next
sound.



CHAPTER III.
THE GERMAN SHELL.
A THIRD rifle-shot rang through the night air, close to the cottage. Grace
started and approached the window in alarm.
"What does that firing mean?" she asked.
"Signals from the outposts," the nurse quietly replied.
"Is there any danger? Have the Germans come back?"
Surgeon Surville answered the question. He lifted the canvas screen, and looked
into the room as Miss Roseberry spoke.
"The Germans are advancing on us," he said. "Their vanguard is in sight."