One word more, and my story is done. Years after, Northmour was killed
fighting under the colors of Garibaldi for the liberation of the Tyrol.
Wilkie Collins
_The Dream Woman_
_A Mystery in Four Narratives_
THE FIRST NARRATIVE
INTRODUCTORY STATEMENT OF THE FACTS BY PERCY FAIRBANK
I
"Hullo, there! Hostler! Hullo-o-o!"
"My dear! why don't you look for the bell?"
"I have looked--there is no bell."
"And nobody in the yard. How very extraordinary! Call again, dear."
"Hostler! Hullo, there! Hostler-r-r!"
My second call echoes through empty space, and rouses nobody--produces, in
short, no visible result. I am at the end of my resources--I don't know
what to say or what to do next. Here I stand in the solitary inn yard of a
strange town, with two horses to hold, and a lady to take care of. By way
of adding to my responsibilities, it so happens that one of the horses is
dead lame, and that the lady is my wife.
Who am I?--you will ask.
There is plenty of time to answer the question. Nothing happens; and
nobody appears to receive us. Let me introduce myself and my wife.
I am Percy Fairbank--English gentleman--age (let us say) forty--no
profession--moderate politics--middle height--fair complexion--easy
character--plenty of money.
My wife is a French lady. She was Mademoiselle Clotilde Delorge--when I
was first presented to her at her father's house in France.
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