Would’st thou have that
Which thou esteem1’st the ornament2 of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem,
Letting “I dare not,” wait upon “I would,”
Like the poor cat i’ the adage3?
MACBETH.
He was to all appearance immediately forgotten. As with mutual4 consent we all turned and faced each other, Mrs. Pollard with a stern, inexorable look in her dark eye, which, while it held me enchained, caused me to involuntarily lay my hand upon the document which I had hidden in my breast She noticed the movement, and smiled darkly with a sidelong look at her son. The smile and the look affected5 me strangely. In them I seemed to detect something deeper than hatred6 and baffled rage, and when in a moment later her son responded to her glance by quietly withdrawing from the room, I felt such revolt against their secrecy7 that for a moment I was tempted8 to abandon an undertaking9 that promised to bring me in conflict with passions of so deep and unrelenting a nature.
But the impression which the pain and despair of my dead friend had made upon me was as yet too recent for me to yield to my first momentary10 apprehensions11; and summoning up what resolution I possessed12, I took my leave of Mrs. Pollard, and was hastening towards the door, when her voice, rising cold and clear, arrested me.
“You think, then, that it is your duty to carry this paper from the house, Mr. Barrows?”
“Yes, madam, I do,” was my short reply.
“In spite of my protest and that of my son?”
“Yes, madam.”
“Then upon your head be the consequences!” she exclaimed, and turned her back upon me with a look which went with me as I closed the door between us; lending a gloom to the unlighted halls and sombre staircases that affected me almost with an impulse of fear.
I dreaded13 crossing to where the stairs descended14; I dreaded going down them into the darkness which I saw below. Not that I anticipated actual harm, but that I felt I was in the house of those who longed to see me the victim of it; and my imagination being more than usually alert, I even found myself fancying the secret triumph with which Guy Pollard would hail an incautious slip on my part, that would precipitate16 me from the top to the bottom of this treacherous17 staircase. That he was somewhere between me and the front door, I felt certain. The deadly quiet behind and before me seemed to assure me of this; and, ashamed as I was of the impulse that moved me, I could not prevent myself from stepping cautiously as I prepared to descend15, saying as some sort of excuse to myself: “He is capable of seeing me trip without assistance,” and as my imagination continued its work: “He is even capable of putting out his foot to help forward such a catastrophe18.”
And, indeed, I now think that if this simple plan had presented itself to his subtle mind, of stunning19, if not disabling me, and thus making it possible for them to obtain his father’s will without an open assault, he would not have hesitated to embrace it. But he evidently did not calculate, as I did, the chances of such an act, or perhaps he felt that I was likely to be too much upon my guard to fall a victim to this expedient20, for I met no one as I advanced, and was well down the stairs and on my way to the front door, before I perceived any signs of life in the sombre house. Then a sudden glare of light across my path betrayed the fact that a door had been swung wide in a certain short passage that opened ahead of me; and while I involuntarily stopped, a shadow creeping along the further wall of that passage warned me that some one — I could not doubt it to be Guy Pollard — had come out to meet me.
The profound stillness, and the sudden pause which the shadow made as I inconsiderately stumbled in my hesitation21, assured me that I was right in attributing a sinister22 motive23 to this encounter. Naturally, therefore, I drew back, keeping my eyes upon the shadow. It did not move. Convinced now that danger of some kind lay ahead of me, I looked behind and about me for some means of escaping from the house without passing by my half-seen enemy. But none presented themselves. Either I must slink away into the kitchen region — a proceeding24 from which my whole manhood revolted — or I must advance and face whatever evil awaited me. Desperation drove me to the latter course. Making one bound, I stood before that lighted passage. A slim, firm figure confronted me; but it was not that of Guy, but of his older brother, Dwight.
The surprise of the shock, together with a certain revelation which came to me at the same moment, and of which I will speak hereafter, greatly unnerved me. I had not been thinking of Dwight Pollard. Strange as it may seem, I had not even missed him from the bedside of his father. To see him, then, here and now, caused many thoughts to spring into my mind, foremost among which was the important one as to whether he was of a nature to lend himself to any scheme of violence. The quickness with which I decided25 to the contrary proved to me in what different estimation I had always held him from what I had his mother and brother.
It was consequently no surprise to me when he leaned forward and spoke26 to me with consideration and force. I was only surprised at a his words:
“Don’t stop, Mr. Barrows,” said he. “Go home at once; only”— and here he paused, listened, then proceeded with increased emphasis, “don’t go by the way of Orchard27 Street.” And without waiting for my reply, he stepped back and noiselessly regained28 the apartment he had left, while I, in a confusion of emotions difficult to analyze29 at the moment, hastily accepted his advice, and withdrew from the house.
The relief of breathing the fresh air again was indescribable. If I had not escaped the miasma30 and oppression of a prison, I certainly had left behind me influences of darkness and sinister suggestion, which, in the light of the calm moonbeams that I found flooding the world without, had the effect upon me of a vanished horror. Only I was still haunted by that last phrase which I had heard uttered, “Don’t go by the way of Orchard Street,” an injunction which simply meant, “Don’t go with that document to the lawyer’s to-night.”
Now was this order, given as it was by Dwight Pollard, one of warning or of simple threat? My good-will toward this especial member of the Pollard family inclined me to think it the former.
There was danger, then, lurking31 for me somewhere on the road to Mr. Nicholls’ house. Was it my duty to encounter this danger? It appeared to me not, especially as it was not necessary for me to acquit32 myself so instantly of the commission with which I had been intrusted. I accordingly proceeded directly home.
But once again in my familiar study, I became conscious of a strong dissatisfaction with myself. Indeed, I may speak more forcibly and say I was conscious of a loss of trust in my own manhood, which was at once so new and startling that it was as if a line had been drawn33 between my past and present. This was due to the discovery I had made at the moment I had confronted Dwight Pollard — a discovery so humiliating in its character that it had shaken me, body and soul. I had found in the light of that critical instant that I, David Barrows, was a coward! Yes, gloss34 it over as I would, the knowledge was deep in my mind that I lacked manhood’s most virile35 attribute; that peril36, real or imaginary, could awaken37 in me fear; and that the paling cheek and trembling limbs of which I had been so bitterly conscious at that instant were but the outward signs of a weakness that extended deep down into my soul.
It was a revelation calculated to stagger any man, how much more, then, one who had so relied upon his moral powers as to take upon himself the sacred name of minister. But this was not all. I had not only found myself to be a coward, but I had shown myself such to another’s eyes. By the searching look which Dwight Pollard had given me before he spoke, and the quiet, half-disdainful curve which his lips took at the close of his scrutiny38, I was convinced that he saw the defect in my nature, and despised me for it, even while he condescended39 to offer me the protection which my fears seemed to demand. Or — the thought could come now that I was at home, and had escaped the dangers lying in wait for me on the road to my duty — he had made use of my weakness to gain his own ends. The carrying of that document to Mr. Nicholls meant loss of property to them all perhaps, and he had but taken means, consistent with his character, to insure the delay which his brother had possibly planned to gain in some more reprehensible40 manner. And I had yielded to my fears and let his will have its way. I hated myself as I considered my own weakness. I could find no excuse either for my pusillanimity41 or for that procrastination42 of my duty into which it had betrayed me. I found I could not face my own scorn; and, rising from my study~chair, I took my hat and went out. I had determined43 to make amends44 for my fault by going at once to Orchard Street.
And I did; but alas45! for the result! The half-hour I had lost was fatal. To be sure I met with no adventure on my way, but I found Mr. Nicholls out. He had been summoned by a telegram to Boston, and had been absent from the house only fifteen minutes. I meditated46 following him to the station, but the whistle sounded just as I turned away from his door, and I knew I should be too late. Humiliated47 still further in my own estimation, I went home to wait with what patience I could for the two or three days which must elapse before his return.
Before I went to bed that night I opened the book which Mr. Pollard had given me, in the expectation of finding a letter in it, or, at least, some writing on the title-page or the blank pages of the book. But I was disappointed in both regards. With the exception of some minute pencil-marks scattered48 here and there along the text — indications, doubtless, of favorite passages — I perceived nothing in the volume to account for the extreme earnestness with which he had presented it.
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1
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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2
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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3
adage
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| n.格言，古训 | |
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4
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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5
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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6
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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7
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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8
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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9
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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10
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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11
apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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12
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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13
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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14
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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15
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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16
precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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17
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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18
catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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19
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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20
expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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21
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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22
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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23
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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24
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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25
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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26
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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27
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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28
regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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29
analyze
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| vt.分析，解析 (=analyse) | |
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30
miasma
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| n.毒气；不良气氛 | |
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31
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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32
acquit
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| vt.宣判无罪；(oneself)使(自己)表现出 | |
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33
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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34
gloss
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| n.光泽，光滑；虚饰；注释；vt.加光泽于；掩饰 | |
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35
virile
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| adj.男性的；有男性生殖力的；有男子气概的；强有力的 | |
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36
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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37
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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38
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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39
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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40
reprehensible
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| adj.该受责备的 | |
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41
pusillanimity
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| n.无气力，胆怯 | |
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42
procrastination
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| n.拖延，耽搁 | |
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43
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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44
amends
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| n. 赔偿 | |
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45
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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46
meditated
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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47
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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48
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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