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Updated: May 31, 2025
"I am afraid you are ill, Cristel?" was all I could find to say, under the double disadvantage of speaking through a door, and having a father listening at my side. "Oh no, Mr. Gerard, not ill. A little low in my mind, that's all. I don't mean to be rude, sir pray be kinder to me than ever! pray let me be!" I said I would return on the next day; and left the room with a sore heart.
I owned that I had obtained my information in this way. And I declared that he had expressed his admiration of her, and his belief in her, in terms which made it a subject of regret to me not to be able to show what he had written. Cristel forgot her fear of our being interrupted. Her dismay expressed itself in a cry that rang through the wood. "You even believe in his letter?" she exclaimed. "Mr.
The rocket was fired to re-assure her father; and Cristel was rowed to the mouth of the river, and safely received on board the yacht. When I had read the correspondence, we spoke again of Cristel. "To save time," Mrs. Stephen Toller said, "I will write to my husband to-day, by a mounted messenger.
"While the deaf man lodges at the cottage, he means mischief, and his eye is on Miss Cristel. Early this morning, sir, I happened to be at the boat-house. I was dressed by this time, and so eager to get to the cottage, that I had already opened my door. What I had just heard brought me back into the room. As a matter of course, we both suspected the same person of stealing the oars.
You will see in the fragment, what I saw that Toller the brother had a yacht, and was going to the Mediterranean; and that Toller the miller had written, asking him to favour Cristel's escape. The rest, Cristel herself can tell you. "I know you had me followed. At Marseilles, I got tired of it, and gave your men the slip.
With your encouragement, I may resist temptation in the future, and keep the better part of me in authority over my thoughts and actions. But, be on your guard, and advise Miss Cristel to be on her guard, against false appearances. As we all know, they lie like truth. Consider me. Pity me. I ask no more."
As far from recognizing her as ever, I found myself nevertheless thinking of an odd outspoken child, living at the mill in past years, who had been one of my poor mother's favorites at our village school. I ran the risk of offending her, by bluntly expressing the thought which was then in my mind. "Is it possible that you are Cristel Toller?" I said. The question seemed to amuse her.
"I find a new bond of union between us," he said, as he joined me. "We both feel that." He pointed to the grandly darkening view. "The two men who could have painted the mystery of those growing shadows and fading lights, lie in the graves of Rembrandt and Turner. Shall we go to tea?" On our way to his room we stopped at the miller's door. "Will you inquire," he said, "if Miss Cristel is ready?"
As I turned suddenly, a living breath played on my face. The child had faded into a vanishing shade: the perfected woman who had grown from her had stolen on me unawares, and was asking me to pardon her. "Mr. Gerard, you were lost in your thoughts; I spoke, and you never heard me." I looked at her in silence. Was this the dear Cristel so well known to me?
The effect that he had produced upon us was not lost on him. His head sank on his breast; horrid shudderings shook him without mercy; he said to himself not to us: "I had forgotten I was deaf." There was a whole world of misery in those simple words. Cristel kept her place, unmoved. I rose, and put my hand kindly on his shoulder. It was the best way I could devise of assuring him of my sympathy.
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