It almost seemed as if, he were calling to her from the other world, for death came and froze her name upon his lips which never moved again, and Lucy’s work was done.  Other hands than hers cared for the dead body, which was embalmed, and then sent to its northern home.

There were crowds of people at the church where the funeral was held and where Robin had been baptized.  The son of Captain Grey was worthy of respect, and the citizens turned out en masse, so that there was scarcely standing room in the aisles for all who came to see the last of Robin.  Very touchingly the rector spoke of the deceased, whose short life had been so pure and holy, and then he eulogized the sister who had devoted herself so unselfishly to the helpless brother, and who, he said, could have nothing to regret, nothing to wish undone, so absolute and entire had been her sacrifice.  Hitherto Lucy had sat as rigid as a stone, but as she listened to her own praises she moved uneasily in her seat, and once put up her hand deprecatingly as if imploring him to stop.  When at last the services were over, and the curious ones had taken their last look at the dead, and the undertaker came forward to close the coffin-lid, her mind, which had been strained to its utmost, gave way, and not realizing what she did or meant to do, she arose suddenly, and gliding swiftly past her father, stepped to the side of the coffin, and throwing back her heavy crape vail; stooped and kissed the eyelids of her brother, saying as she did so: 

“Dear Robbie, can you see me now, and do you know what I am going to do?”

There was a glitter in her eyes which told that she was half-crazed, and her father arose to lead her to her seat beside him; but she waved him back authoritatively, and in a clear, distinct voice, which rang like a bell through the church, said to the astonished people: 

“Wait a little.  There is something I must tell you.  I have tried to put it away, but I cannot.  My brain is on fire, and will never be cool again until I confess by Robbie’s coffin; then you may judge me as you please.  It will make no difference, for I shall have done my duty and ceased to live a lie, for my life has been one long series of hypocrisies and deceit.  Our clergyman has described me as a saint, worthy of a martyr’s crown, and some of you believe him, and look upon the care I gave to Robbie as something unheard-of and wonderful.  And I have let you think so, and felt myself the veriest hypocrite that ever breathed.  Don’t you know that what I did was done in expiation of a crime, a horrid, cruel deed, for I put out Robbie’s eyes.  I made him blind.