This confession completely established the identity of Laura and she was publicly acknowledged by Mr. Frederick Fairlie. Laura and I had been married some time before and we were now able to set off on our honeymoon. We visited Paris. While there, I chanced to be attracted by a large crowd that surged round the doors of the Morgue. Forcing my way through, I saw, lying within, the body of Count Fosco. There was a wound exactly over his heart, and on his arm were two deep cuts in the shape of the letter “T”—the symbol of his treason to the secret brotherhood.
When we returned to England, we lived comfortably on the income I was able to earn by my profession. A son was born to us, and when Frederick Fairlie died, it was Marion Halcombe, who had been the good angel of our lives, who announced the important change that had taken place in our prospects.
“Let me make two eminent personages known to one another,” she exclaimed, with all her easy gaiety of old times, holding out my son to me: “Mr. Walter Hartright—the heir of Limmeridge House.”
* * * * *
HUGH CONWAY
Called Back
Hugh Conway, the
English novelist, whose real name was
Frederick John Fargus,
was born December 26, 1847, the son of
a Bristol auctioneer.
His early ambition was to lead a
seafaring life, and
with this object he entered the school
frigate Conway—from
which he took his pseudonym—then
stationed on the Mersey.
His father was against the project,
with the result that
Conway abandoned the idea and entered his
parent’s office,
where he found ample leisure to employ
himself in writing occasional
newspaper articles and tales.
His first published
work was a volume of poems, which appeared
in 1879, and achieved
a moderate success. But Hugh Conway is
chiefly known to the
reading public for his famous story
“Called Black.”
The work was submitted to a number of
publishers before it
was finally accepted and published, in
1884. Attracting
little notice at first, it eventually made a
hit, and within five
years 350,000 copies were sold. Several
other works appeared
from Conway’s pen in rapid succession,
but none of them attained
the popularity of “Called Back.”
Hugh Conway died at
Monte Carlo on May 15, 1885.
I.—A Blind Witness
I was young, rich, and possessed of unusual vigour and strength. Life, you would think, should have been very pleasant to me. I was beyond the reach of care; I was as free as the wind to follow my own devices. But in spite of all these advantages, I was as helpless and miserable as the poorest toiler in the country.
For I was blind, stone blind!
The dread disease that robbed me of my sight had crept on me slowly through the years, and now I lay in my bedroom in Walpole Street, with my old nurse, Priscilla Drew, sleeping on an extemporised bed outside my door to tend and care for me.