I was, on my side, as anxious and as uneasy as our guest. Now that the six weeks of her stay had expired — now that the day had really arrived, on the evening of which the first story was to be read, I began to calculate the chances of failure as well as the chances of success. What if my own estimate of the interest of the stories turned out to be a false one? What if some unforeseen accident occurred to delay my son’s return beyond ten days?
The arrival of the newspaper had already become an event of the deepest importance to me. Unreasonable2 as it was to expect any tidings of George at so early a date, I began, nevertheless, on this first of our days of suspense3, to look for the name of his ship in the columns of telegraphic news. The mere4 mechanical act of looking was some relief to my overstrained feelings, although I might have known, and did know, that the search, for the present, could lead to no satisfactory result.
Toward noon I shut myself up with my collection of manuscripts to revise them for the last time. Our exertions5 had thus far produced but six of the necessary ten stories. As they were only, however, to be read, one by one, on six successive evenings, and as we could therefore count on plenty of leisure in the daytime, I was in no fear of our failing to finish the little series.
Of the six completed stories I had written two, and had found a third in the form of a collection of letters among my papers. Morgan had only written one, and this solitary6 contribution of his had given me more trouble than both my own put together, in consequence of the perpetual intrusion of my brother’s eccentricities7 in every part of his narrative8. The process of removing these quaint9 turns and frisks of Morgan’s humor — which, however amusing they might have been in an essay, were utterly10 out of place in a story appealing to suspended interest for its effect — certainly tried my patience and my critical faculty11 (such as it is) more severely12 than any other part of our literary enterprise which had fallen my share.
Owen’s investigations13 among his papers had supplied us with the two remaining narratives14. One was contained in a letter, and the other in the form of a diary, and both had been received by him directly from the writers. Besides these contributions, he had undertaken to help us by some work of his own, and had been engaged for the last four days in molding certain events which had happened within his personal knowledge into the form of a story. His extreme fastidiousness as a writer interfered15, however, so seriously with his progress that he was still sadly behindhand, and was likely, though less heavily burdened than Morgan or myself, to be the last to complete his allotted16 task.
Such was our position, and such the resources at our command, when the first of the Ten Days dawned upon us. Shortly after four in the afternoon I completed my work of revision, numbered the manuscripts from one to six exactly as they happened to lie under my hand, and inclosed them all in a portfolio17, covered with purple morocco, which became known from that time by the imposing18 title of The Purple Volume.
Miss Jessie returned from her expedition just as I was tying the strings19 of the portfolio, and, womanlike, instantly asked leave to peep inside, which favor I, manlike, positively20 declined to grant.
As soon as dinner was over our guest retired21 to array herself in magnificent evening costume. It had been arranged that the readings were to take place in her own sitting-room22; and she was so enthusiastically desirous to do honor to the occasion, that she regretted not having brought with her from London the dress in which she had been presented at court the year before, and not having borrowed certain materials for additional splendor23 which she briefly24 described as “aunt’s diamonds.”
Toward eight o’clock we assembled in the sitting-room, and a strangely assorted25 company we were. At the head of the table, radiant in silk and jewelry26, flowers and furbelows, sat The Queen of Hearts, looking so handsome and so happy that I secretly congratulated my absent son on the excellent taste he had shown in falling in love with her. Round this bright young creature (Owen, at the foot of the table, and Morgan and I on either side) sat her three wrinkled, gray-headed, dingily-attired hosts, and just behind her, in still more inappropriate companionship, towered the spectral27 figure of the man in armor, which had so unaccountably attracted her on her arrival. This strange scene was lighted up by candles in high and heavy brass28 sconces. Before Jessie stood a mighty29 china punch-bowl of the olden time, containing the folded pieces of card, inside which were written the numbers to be drawn30, and before Owen reposed31 the Purple Volume from which one of us was to read. The walls of the room were hung all round with faded tapestry32; the clumsy furniture was black with age; and, in spite of the light from the sconces, the lofty ceiling was almost lost in gloom. If Rembrandt could have painted our background, Reynolds our guest, and Hogarth ourselves, the picture of the scene would have been complete.
When the old clock over the tower gateway33 had chimed eight, I rose to inaugurate the proceedings34 by requesting Jessie to take one of the pieces of card out of the punch-bowl, and to declare the number.
She laughed; then suddenly became frightened and serious; then looked at me, and said, “It was dreadfully like business;” and then entreated35 Morgan not to stare at her, or, in the present state of her nerves, she should upset the punch-bowl. At last she summoned resolution enough to take out one of the pieces of card and to unfold it.
“Declare the number, my dear,” said Owen.
“Number Four,” answered Jessie, making a magnificent courtesy, and beginning to look like herself again.
Owen opened the Purple Volume, searched through the manuscripts, and suddenly changed color. The cause of his discomposure was soon explained. Malicious36 fate had assigned to the most diffident individual in the company the trying responsibility of leading the way. Number Four was one of the two narratives which Owen had found among his own papers.
“I am almost sorry,” began my eldest37 brother, confusedly, “that it has fallen to my turn to read first. I hardly know which I distrust most, myself or my story.”
“Try and fancy you are in the pulpit again,” said Morgan, sarcastically38. “Gentlemen of your cloth, Owen, seldom seem to distrust themselves or their manuscripts when they get into that position.”
“The fact is,” continued Owen, mildly impenetrable to his brother’s cynical39 remark, “that the little thing I am going to try and read is hardly a story at all. I am afraid it is only an anecdote40. I became possessed41 of the letter which contains my narrative under these circumstances. At the time when I was a clergyman in London, my church was attended for some months by a lady who was the wife of a large farmer in the country. She had been obliged to come to town, and to remain there for the sake of one of her children, a little boy, who required the best medical advice.”
At the words “medical advice” Morgan shook his head and growled42 to himself contemptuously. Owen went on:
“While she was attending in this way to one child, his share in her love was unexpectedly disputed by another, who came into the world rather before his time. I baptized the baby, and was asked to the little christening party afterward43. This was my first introduction to the lady, and I was very favorably impressed by her; not so much on account of her personal appearance, for she was but a little wo man and had no pretensions44 to beauty, as on account of a certain simplicity45, and hearty46, downright kindness in her manner, as well as of an excellent frankness and good sense in her conversation. One of the guests present, who saw how she had interested me, and who spoke47 of her in the highest terms, surprised me by inquiring if I should ever have supposed that quiet, good-humored little woman to be capable of performing an act of courage which would have tried the nerves of the boldest man in England? I naturally enough begged for an explanation; but my neighbor at the table only smiled and said, ‘If you can find an opportunity, ask her what happened at The Black Cottage, and you will hear something that will astonish you.’ I acted on the hint as soon as I had an opportunity of speaking to her privately48. The lady answered that it was too long a story to tell then, and explained, on my suggesting that she should relate it on some future day, that she was about to start for her country home the next morning. ‘But,’ she was good enough to add, ‘as I have been under great obligations to you for many Sundays past, and as you seem interested in this matter, I will employ my first leisure time after my return in telling you by writing, instead of by word of mouth, what really happened to me on one memorable49 night of my life in The Black Cottage.’
“She faithfully performed her promise. In a fortnight afterward I received from her the narrative which I am now about to read.”
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1
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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2
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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5
exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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6
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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7
eccentricities
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| n.古怪行为( eccentricity的名词复数 )；反常；怪癖 | |
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8
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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13
investigations
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| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
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14
narratives
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| 记叙文( narrative的名词复数 )； 故事； 叙述； 叙述部分 | |
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15
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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16
allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17
portfolio
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| n.公事包；文件夹；大臣及部长职位 | |
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18
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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22
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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23
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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jewelry
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| n.（jewllery）（总称）珠宝 | |
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spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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28
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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29
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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30
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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31
reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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33
gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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34
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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38
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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39
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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40
anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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41
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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42
growled
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| 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 | |
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43
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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44
pretensions
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| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
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45
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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46
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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47
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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48
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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49
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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