e callings at suburban concert-rooms. Sir Purcell Barrett frequently
called to assist in the discovery. At first he led them to suspect Mr.
Pericles; but a trusty Italian playing spy upon that gentleman soon
cleared him, and they were more in the dark than ever. It was only
when at last Georgiana heard Merthyr, the picture of polished
self-possession, giving way to a burst of disappointment in the
room before them all: "Are we sure that she lives?" he cried:--then
Georgiana, looking at the firelight over her joined fingers, said:--

"But, have you forgotten the serviceable brigade you have in your
organ-boys, Marini? If Emilia sees one, be sure she will speak to him."

"Have I not said she is a General?" Marini pointed at Georgiana with a
gleam of his dark eyes, and Merthyr squeezed his sister's hand, thanking
her; by which he gave her one whole night of remorse, because she had
not spoken earlier.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

"My voice! I have my voice!"

Emilia had cried it out to herself almost aloud, on the journey from
Devon to London. The landscape slipping under her eyes, with flashing
grey pools and light silver freshets, little glades, little copses,
farms, and meadows rounding away to spires of village churches under
blue hills, would not let her sink, heavy as was the spirit within her,
and dead to everything as she desired to be. Here, a great strange old
oak spread out its arms and seemed to hold the hurrying train a minute.
When gone by, Emilia thought of it as a friend, and that there, there,
was the shelter and thick darkness she had hoped she might be flying
to. Or the reach of a stream was seen, and in the middle of it one fair
group of clouds, showing distance beyond distance in colour. Emilia shut
her sight, and tried painfully to believe that there were no distances
for her. This was an easy task when the train stopped. It was surprising
to her then why the people moved. The whistle of the engine and rush
of the scenery set her imagination anew upon the horror of being
motionless.

"My voice! I have my voice!" The exclamation recurred at intervals, as
a quick fear, that bubbled up from blind sensation, of her being utterly
abandoned, and a stray thing carrying no light, startled her. Darkness
she still had her desire for; but not to be dark in the darkness. She
looked back on the recent night as a lake of fire, through which she had
plunged; and of all the faculties about her, memory had suffered m