EARLY riser as I was, I found that Oscar had risen earlier still. He had left the rectory and had disturbed Mr. Gootheridge’s morning slumbers1 by an application at the inn for the key of Browndown.
On his return to the rectory, he merely said that he had been to see after various things belonging to him, which were still left in the empty house. His look and manner as he gave us this brief explanation were, to my mind, more unsatisfactory than ever. I made no remark; and, observing that his loose traveling coat was buttoned awry2 over the breast, I set it right for him. My hand, as I did this, touched his breast-pocket. He started back directly — as if there was something in the pocket which he did not wish me to feel. Was it something he had brought from Browndown?
We got away — encumbered3 by Mr. Finch4, who insisted on attaching himself to Oscar — by the first express train, which took us straight to London. Comparison of time-tables, on reaching the terminus, showed that I had leisure to spare for a brief visit to Grosse, before we again took the railway back to Sydenham. Having decided5 not to mention the bad news about Lucilla’s sight to Oscar, until I had seen the German first, I made the best excuse that suggested itself, and drove away — leaving the two gentlemen in the waiting-room at the station.
I found Grosse confined to his easy-chair, with his gouty foot enveloped6 in cool cabbage-leaves. Between pain and anxiety, his eyes were wilder, his broken English was more grotesque7 than ever. When I appeared at the door of his room and said good morning — in the frenzy8 of his impatience9 he shook his fist at me.
“Good morning go-damn!” he roared out, “Where? where? where is Feench?”
I told him where we believed Lucilla to be. Grosse turned his head, and shook his fist at a bottle on the chimney-piece next.
“Get that bottles on the chimney,” he said. “And the eye-baths by the side of him. Don’t stop with your talky-talky-chatterations here. Go! Save her eyes. Look! You do this. You throw her head back — soh!” He illustrated10 the position so forcibly with his own head that he shook his gouty foot, and screamed with the pain of it. He went on nevertheless, glaring frightfully through his spectacles; gnashing his mustache fiercely between his teeth. “Throw her head back. Fill the eye-baths; turn him upsides-down over her open eyes. Drown them turn-turn-about in my mixtures. Drown them, I say, one-down-todder-come-on, and if she screech11 never mind it. Then bring her to me. For the lofe of Gott, bring her to me. If you tie her hands and foots, bring her to me. What is the womans stopping for? Go! go! go!”
“I want to ask you a question about Oscar,” I said, “before I go.”
He seized the pillow which supported his head — evidently intending to expedite my departure by throwing it at me. I produced the railway time-table as the best defensive12 weapon at my command. “Look at it for yourself,” I said; “and you will see that I must wait at the station, if I don’t wait here.”
With some difficulty, I satisfied him that it was impossible to leave London for Sydenham before a certain hour, and that I had at least ten minutes to spare which might be just as well passed in consulting him. He closed his glaring eyes, and laid his head back on the chair, thoroughly13 exhausted14 with his own outbreak of excitement. “No matter how things goes,” he said, “a womans must wag her tongue. Goot. Wag yours.”
“I am placed in a very difficult position,” I began. “Oscar is going with me to Lucilla. I shall of course take care, in the first place, that he and Nugent do not meet, unless I am present at the interview. But I am not equally sure of what I ought to do in the case of Lucilla. Must I keep them apart until I have first prepared her to see Oscar?”
“Let her see the devil himself if you like,” growled15 Grosse, “so long as you bring her here afterwards-directly to me. You will do the bettermost thing, if you prepare Oscar. She wants no preparations! She is enough disappointed in him as it is!”
“Disappointed in him!” I repeated. “I don’t understand you.”
He settled himself wearily in his chair, and referred, in a softened16 and saddened tone, to that private conversation of his with Lucilla, at Ramsgate, which has already been reported in the Journal. I was now informed, for the first time, of those changes in her sensations and in her ways of thinking which had so keenly vexed17 and mortified18 her. I heard of the ominous19 absence of the old thrill of pleasure, when Nugent took her hand on meeting her at the seaside — I heard how bitterly his personal appearance had disappointed her (when she had seen his features in detail) by comparison with the charming ideal picture which she had formed of her lover in the days of her blindness: those happier days, as she had called them, when she was Poor Miss Finch.
“Surely,” I said, “all the old feelings will come back to her when she sees Oscar?”
“They will never come back to her — no, not if she sees fifty Oscars!”
He was beginning to frighten me, or to irritate me — I can hardly say which. I only know that I persisted in disputing with him. “When she sees the true man,” I went on, “do you mean to say she will feel the same disappointment ——?”
I could get no farther than that. He cut me short there, without ceremony.
“You foolish womans!” he interposed, “she will feel more than the same. I have told you already it was one enormous disappointments to her when she saw the handsome brodder with the fair complexions20. Ask your own self what it will be when she sees the ugly brodder with the blue face. I tell you this! — she will think your true man the worst impostor of the two.”
There I indignantly contradicted him.
“His face may be a disappointment to her,” I said —“I own that. But there it will end. Her hand will tell her, when he takes it, that there is no impostor deceiving her this time.”
“Her hand will tell her nothing — no more than yours. I had not so much hard hearts in me as to say that to her, when she asked me. I say it to you. Hold your tongue and listen. All those thrill-tingles that she once had when he touched her, belong to anodder time — the time gone-by when her sight was in her fingers and not in her eyes. With those fine-superfine-feelings of the days when she was blind, she pays now for her grand new privilege of opening her eyes on the world. (And worth the price too!) Do you understand yet? It is a sort of swop-bargain between Nature and this poor girls of ours. I take away your eyes — I give you your fine touch. I give you your eyes — I take away your fine touch. Soh! that is plain. You see now.”
I was too mortified and too miserable21 to answer him. Through all our later troubles, I had looked forward so confidently to Oscar’s re-appearance as the one sufficient condition on which Lucilla’s happiness would be certainly restored! What had become of my anticipations22 now? I sat silent; staring in stupid depression at the pattern of the carpet. Grosse took out his watch.
“Your ten-minutes-time has counted himself out,” he said.
I neither moved nor heeded23 him. His ferocious24 eyes began to flame again behind his monstrous25 spectacles.
“Go-be-off-with-you!” he shouted at me as if I was deaf. “Her eyes! her eyes! While you stop chatterboxing here, her eyes are in danger. What with her frettings and her cryings and her damn-nonsense-lofe-business, I swear you my solemn oath her sight was in danger when I saw her a whole fortnight gone-by. Do you want my big pillow to fly bang at your head? You don’t want him? Be-off-away with you then, or you will have him in one-two-three time! Be-off-away — and bring her back to me before night!”
I returned to the railway. Of all the women whom I passed in the crowded streets, I doubt if one had a heavier heart in her bosom26 that morning than mine.
To make matters worse still, my traveling companions (one in the refreshment-room, and one pacing the platform) received my account of my interview with Grosse in a manner which seriously disappointed and discouraged me. Mr. Finch’s inhuman27 conceit28 treated my melancholy29 news of his daughter as a species of complimentary30 tribute to his own foresight31.
“You remember, Madame Pratolungo, I took high ground in this matter from the first. I protested against the proceedings32 of the man Grosse, as involving a purely33 worldly interference with the ways of an inscrutable Providence34. With what effect? My paternal35 influence was repudiated36; my Moral Weight was, so to speak, set aside. And now you see the result. Take it to heart, dear friend. May it be a warning to you!” He sighed with ponderous37 complacency, and turned from me to the girl behind the counter. “I will take another cup of tea.”
Oscar’s reception of me, when I found him on the platform, and told him next of Lucilla’s critical state, was more than discouraging. It is no exaggeration to say that he alarmed me. “Another item in the debt I owe to Nugent!” he said. Not a word of sympathy, not a word of sorrow. That vindictive38 answer, and nothing more.
We started for Sydenham.
From time to time, I looked at Oscar sitting opposite to me, to see if any change appeared in him as we drew nearer and nearer to the place in which Lucilla was now living. No! Still the same ominous silence, the same unnatural39 self-repression possessed40 him.
Except the momentary41 outbreak, when Mr. Finch had placed Nugent’s letter in his hand on the previous evening, not the faintest token of what was really going on in his mind had escaped him since we had left Marseilles. He, who could weep over all his other griefs as easily and as spontaneously as a woman, had not shed a tear since the fatal day when he had discovered that his brother had played him false — that brother who had been the god of his idolatry, the sacred object of his gratitude42 and his love! When a man of Oscar’s temperament43 becomes frozen up for days together in his own thoughts — when he keeps his own counsel; when he asks for no sympathy, and utters no complaint — the sign is a serious one. There are hidden forces gathering44 in him which will burst their way to the surface — for good or for evil — with an irresistible45 result. Watching Oscar attentively46 behind my veil, I felt the certain assurance that the part he would take in the terrible conflict of interests now awaiting us, would be a part which I should remember to the latest day of my life.
We reached Sydenham, and went to the nearest hotel.
On the railway — with other travelers in the carriage-it had been impossible to consult on the safest method of approaching Lucilla, in the first instance. That serious question now pressed for instant decision. We sat down to discuss it, in the room which we had hired at the hotel.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
slumbers
|
|
| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
awry
|
|
| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
encumbered
|
|
| v.妨碍，阻碍，拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
finch
|
|
| n.雀科鸣禽(如燕雀，金丝雀等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
grotesque
|
|
| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
frenzy
|
|
| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
illustrated
|
|
| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
screech
|
|
| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
defensive
|
|
| adj.防御的；防卫的；防守的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
growled
|
|
| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
vexed
|
|
| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
mortified
|
|
| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
ominous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
complexions
|
|
| 肤色( complexion的名词复数 )； 面色； 局面； 性质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
anticipations
|
|
| 预期( anticipation的名词复数 )； 预测； （信托财产收益的）预支； 预期的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
heeded
|
|
| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
ferocious
|
|
| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
monstrous
|
|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
inhuman
|
|
| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
conceit
|
|
| n.自负，自高自大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
complimentary
|
|
| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
foresight
|
|
| n.先见之明，深谋远虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
proceedings
|
|
| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
purely
|
|
| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
paternal
|
|
| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
repudiated
|
|
| v.（正式地）否认( repudiate的过去式和过去分词 )；拒绝接受；拒绝与…往来；拒不履行（法律义务） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
ponderous
|
|
| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
vindictive
|
|
| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
temperament
|
|
| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
irresistible
|
|
| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
attentively
|
|
| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |