When the patroon dismissed me there was a strange, half-convinced look about him which augured1 further trouble. His state of mind was peculiar2, and later events enable me to say pretty surely what it was. Though I was fairly free from superstition4 myself, that was a time when it ran riot. In that respect, Van Volkenberg was the creature of his day. He felt many a secret dread5 that could never have taken hold of me. Once he had tried my life at night; and Louis subsequently told me that my opportune6 absence when they came inspired the patroon with the unrighteousness of his act. He never guessed, nor did I at the time, that Meg’s warning to me had been due to the prompting of her son. Again he had tripped, captured 252and buried me, as he firmly believed, only to find me in his house the next morning as hearty7 as ever. And so I became, to him, an invulnerable foe8; I bore a charmed life. The swift and deadly blows that made such short work of his other enemies, had, to all appearance, scarcely a finger’s weight with me. I grew vaguely9 conscious of this superstitious10 attitude on the part of the patroon towards me, though not until afterwards did I learn how heavily the burden weighed upon his spirit.
There was not much difficulty in persuading the patroon of the truth of the story we had put upon him to account for my second escape. To him it was a fearful dream, which pointed11 yet more clearly to the fact that I was not the man for him to meddle12 with. This fact almost turned the balance permanently13 in my favor, though he still had a lingering suspicion that I was some sort of spy, and I was to feel still more of his ill-humor on this score.
I heard no more of him that day. But the next he set me to some dirty work which was quite beneath the position in the household that he had at first accorded me. On the second day he forbade me to eat at the family table, and banished14 me to the servants’ hall. In a thousand ways, he did all in his power to make my position as uncomfortable as he could. I resented it much at the time, and was continually on the point of an angry outbreak of temper. One fact, however, more than anything 253else, deterred15 me. That was my duty to Lady Marmaduke.
I was heartily16 sick of the part I was playing. I had never been ashamed to own my name before, and, day by day, the sound of my false name covered me with more confusion. I felt like a coward, and that is a hard thought to one who prides himself on his courage. It was about this time that I began to doubt the leadership of my stern mistress. A man, however, cannot betray others to set himself right in his own eyes. I had done wrong to be led into this duplicity; but I had accepted a trust, and I should consider myself doubly wrong to betray my mistress now. I resolved to get out of it as soon as I could, but not by means of a second act of dishonor.
Meanwhile, the patroon’s ill-treatment of me continued. Yet it had its good side, as I can see now. I had already gained Miriam’s attention in the recital17 of my adventure at the tannery. She did not share her father’s prejudices against me. The patroon had said nothing openly, except to Louis, about his suspicions of my identity with Le Bourse. In Miriam’s presence, he had been especially careful to express himself in a way different from what he really felt. Doubtless he thought she would repeat his compliments to me, thus throwing me quite off my guard. In this way, without suspecting it, he pleaded my cause to Miriam long before it had taken shape in my own 254mind. Her sympathies were already enlisted18 in my behalf when I told her of my narrow escape. Her father’s present treatment of me was so at variance19 with what he had formerly20 said to her, that she was utterly21 at a loss to understand it. “It must be a mere22 whim,” she would say; or, “He is ill. He does not feel so, let me tell you.” Then she would repeat, just as the patroon had expected, what he had said to her. Thus, I and my affairs were constantly in her mind, as if it was her duty to settle them and restore peace.
“It will wear off,” she said soothingly23, just after he had brought me up sharp with an insulting answer. “He has not been well lately. I know he does not mean it. Come, take a walk with me.”
So, twenty times a day, she would speak to me kindly24 and do some little act to soothe25 a reproach from him. At last she went to him direct to appeal for me. She has told me many a time since how she talked him out of a sullen26 humor. He told her flatly that he thought I was Le Bourse. Dear girl! She vouched27 for my honesty, and defended me so stoutly28 that he gave in at last.
“It is fate, Miriam,” he said. “It is fate. Let us cast lots. Cry as I toss. Crown or shield?”
He took a coin from his pocket and spun29 it on the table.
“Crown!” cried Miriam.
“It is so,” said the patroon as the coin flattened30 255down with a jarring ring. “Fate says that I shall trust him. Call the man in.”
From that moment I stood in the better graces of the master. There were times, to be sure, when I thought that he still shared his old suspicions. But for the most part he seemed to trust me. After all, the silver buttons were a good introduction. I had to thank them for much.
I now quite supplanted31 Louis. He did not seem to resent the change, but followed or stayed at home as he was bid. Time went on in this way for several days, during which my own feelings toward the master began somewhat to change. He seemed in a way to charm me. One who looks too long on an uncomfortable color will grow used to it at last. This fact and the presence of Miriam did much to account for this spleen of toleration. Many a time I had wondered how a man of his wicked practices could rise to such a height of influence and power. Little by little I came to comprehend the secret of his hold over the affections of his retainers. He was their lord and master and they loved him as their lives. I was soon to learn of this at first hand.
A few days after he had taken me into his confidence, the patroon set out for a ride about his estate. He chose me instead of Louis to go with him. His new confidence in me must have been increased by the growing distrust of Louis; yet he continued to treat the dwarf32 with kindness; nor was 256Louis the least jealous of me, who was fast taking his place in the affairs of his master.
The patroon and I set out on horseback. It was a bright day full of the sombre autumn color. As we rode about we met many persons, all of whom were known to the patroon. He had a word and a smile for each of them; of every one he had some kind inquiry33 to make of mother, brother, or sister; sometimes he would crack a merry joke, or indulge in some quiet chaff34 that did not hurt. Frequently on that ride I heard the “Good Patroon” blessed for some little act of interest, or for a bit of money bestowed35 without the air of righteous charity.
We had been riding for an hour in parts unknown to me, when we came out upon a cliff where we could look out over the bay and catch a faraway glimpse across Long Island to the turquoise36 sea beyond. My companion lifted his arm and swept it slowly along the horizon. I was surprised to see the grim, set expression of seriousness that came into his face. For the last hour he had been entertaining me with merry tales of his childhood, and of his adventures aboard ship when he was a young man. But now all that was gone. Was it the vast presence of the distant ocean that put a curb37 on his jolly spirits? Or was there some nearer motive38 close at hand, whose presence I could not see?
We sat side by side for twenty minutes. Neither 257of us spoke39 a word all this time. Only now and then was the silence broken when one of the horses stamped impatiently on the ground. The patroon’s face grew more stern and lowering. His fingers doubled tight around the bridle40. Once or twice his lips moved, as if he were talking to himself. Then he struck his breast fiercely and pointed to the blue ocean.
“There, Vincent, there lies the fortune of the Red Band. By the sea we live or perish.”
I did not know what he meant, nor did I have a chance to ask him, for he turned quickly and galloped41 away, with me hard at his heels. It was some time before I was able to come abreast42 of him again, but when I did so, he opened the conversation.
“A man who would be great must keep his own secrets. I know that fact to my cost. I shall not tell you this, at least not for the present; but there will come a meeting soon and I shall need you then.”
He fell silent and musing43. Evidently he was much tossed about in his own mind over something. I could see by his face that he was on the point of saying something to me a dozen times, and that he checked himself in the effort again and again. Suddenly these words burst from him in a sharp tone.
“Van Ramm knows too many of my secrets. I want him killed. Will you do it?”
258I was thunderstruck at the proposal. I looked at him to see if he was in earnest. His face was set and rigid44, full of heavy lines, and the corners of his mouth were drawn45 down in an evil fashion. My ears had certainly made no mistake. He was in earnest. It was a long moment before I found my voice.
“Must everyone who knows your secrets die?”
“God damn you, no!”
This was no ribald oath, but uttered from the very depths of his soul. I knew as well as I knew my name that I had alluded46 unknowingly to some secret of his, perhaps the very one for which he sought the life of his henchman, for a sudden gust47 of terror seemed to leap into his face at my words. He gazed at me for a moment speechless, his jaw48 dropped and there was a gurgling rattle49 in his throat. Then the mood seemed to pass slowly, and he became himself again.
“Do not say that word again, Vincent. It cuts me like a knife. There are sins upon my soul you cannot know. My God, if I were only what I used to be. But that day is long, long passed. Sometimes I think that I am possessed50 by a devil. I have gone wrong so long that I cannot stop now if I would. I have resolved against it, but I have no power. I can see my ruin close before my eyes. Do you think there is no terror in it? My God! Yet I cannot haste enough to meet it. It is like the dizziness that takes you on a cliff. I 259cannot keep back my mad desire to leap. You are my man. Answer me yes or no. Will you kill the dwarf?”
“No.”
“Then let it be. I respect you all the more for it. I wish I had had men like you about me from the first. Then I should not see the gallows51 in my dreams. But I have done my wicked work myself before. Let this pass.”
There were drops of sweat upon his forehead as he galloped ahead. But in a short time he had thrown off all trace of this behavior, and what was in his mind then seemed to be quite forgotten now. His merry tales returned. A beggar we met was well rewarded for his humble52 plea for alms. So we continued, just as if nothing had happened, as if we had not for a moment been at swords points, almost ready to fight over a question of honor. And in this way we rode till we came into the hills that sheltered the cottage of Meg.
“Poor old Meg,” said the patroon gently. “She has been ill since yonder night of Ronald’s death. I must stop and see her.”
The cottage of the old woman was a tumble-down affair, with doors and windows all awry53, and the thatch54 hanging loose and all but off in many places. We dismounted and met the dwarf in the doorway55.
“Hist,” he said, cautioning silence with his raised finger.
260“Has he come?” asked a feeble voice from inside.
“The noise of the horses must have waked her,” explained Louis. “Come in.”
We entered the low, desolate56 looking room. On a pallet in one corner lay Meg of the Hills. The patroon went to her and took her hand with something like affection in his manner.
“How is the day with you, my Meg?”
“My Meg,” she repeated plaintively57. “It is a long time since you have called me that.”
“Hist, Meg, not so loud,” said the patroon in a half-whisper.
“Why should I hist?” she cried with a tinge58 of anger in her tone. “Are you ashamed of me?”
The patroon made no reply, and in a moment she repeated her question.
“Answer me, ye auld59 jade60, be ye ashamed of me?”
“Hush, Meg. Don’t fall into that ballad61-singing habit of yours. I can stand anything but that.”
“You stand! What have you to stand compared to me? It was not always so. I was fair to see in the old days long gone by. Was I not a bonny lass then, Kilian?”
“Ay, you were so, Meg; but that is long gone by.”
The old woman moaned. She had regular features and may have been a beauty once; but, as the patroon said, it was long ago. How wistfully she 261must have looked back upon what would never come again. There was a pause, and Meg was the first to break it.
“What did you come for?”
“To see how you were; to see what I could do for you.”
The last word seemed to rouse her evil demon62. She sat bolt up in bed and clasped her hands tight together; then she doubled her fists and shook them in his face like a mad woman.
“To do what you can for me, you brat63 of hell. Have you not had half a life for that? What have you done for me? You have kept me, you would say. Ay, you have kept me like the old toothless bitch I am. But you did not keep me where I should have been. And I could have hanged you any time these twenty years. But I loved you. My God, what will not a woman do for the man she loves!”
Meg fell back upon the pillow in exhaustion64.
“So, so,” said the patroon, trying to soothe her. He only made her worse. In a moment she had risen again and was glowering65 at him through fierce flashing eyes.
“What have you done?” she cried in a frenzy66, snapping and wringing67 her long, bony fingers. “What have you done for me and mine these twenty years, since you had your fill of pleasure out of me?”
“Tut, tut, Meg, you are wild to-day.”
“Wild I have ever been since you cast me adrift 262like a gutter68 drab of Yorke. Tell me what you have done for me and mine.”
Her face grew dark and sullen like an animal’s at bay. The patroon glanced about him and half rose to go; but she clutched his wrist and repeated persistently69:
“What have you done? What have you done? What have you done?”
“You know well enough what I have done, my Meg,” said the patroon. He spoke quietly, but I could see that he was in the grip of fear. Was the woman going to make a disclosure? I half expected what it would be, but I did not guess the half.
“But what have you done?” she went on, sticking to her one idea.
“I have done my best, Meg. You know that I could not do it openly, but I have kept him near me; he wants for nothing.”
“Ay, he wants for nothing but his life.”
“Life?” cried the patroon. “What do you mean?”
She looked at him in contempt and rage.
“Who is it that you say wants for nothing?”
“Louis, you hag,” he hissed70 between his teeth. “Louis Van Ramm.”
She fell into a mocking laugh that was terrible to hear.
“You thought it was Louis, did you? He was my son well enough, born in lawful71 wedlock72; but he was no son of yours. Did you think I told the 263truth when I came back to live on you? Ha, ha, I was a bonny lass then. Do you remember how you pleaded for my love and the use of my shapely body? ‘I’ll marry you, Meg, if anything goes wrong.’ Those were your very words and everything went wrong and—”
Here the patroon caught her by the shoulder and shook her violently.
“Stop. If Louis is not our child, who is?”
“Ha, ha, ha! You dolt73! You idiot! You liar3, thief—” She paused for a moment and then almost shrieked74 out the word “Murderer.”
“Murderer!”
“Ay, murderer. Louis is my child but none of yours. Our boy is dead. His name was Ronald Guy.”
Then she fell to singing that weird75 scrap76 of an old ballad that I had heard once before:
Is there ony room at your head, Ronald?
Is there ony room at your feet?
Is there ony room at your side, Ronald,
Where fain, fain I wad sleep?
The patroon sprang up from where he had been sitting on her bedside. He covered his face with his hands, and, for a moment, swayed back and forth77, but he was not taken with one of his seizures78 as I feared. In a moment more he started for the door.
“Follow me, St. Vincent,” he said, and nothing more.
264In silence he mounted his horse and spurred desperately79 away. I rode at his stirrup, awestruck and wondering what would happen next. He remained silent so far as words went, though sometimes he was muttering to himself. We had nearly reached the manor-house when he spoke briefly80 in cold tones, like a man asleep.
“I have killed my son. The day of reckoning has come.”
A horror of this man took hold of me and I turned to bait him as I would a dog.
“You thought Louis was your son and you wanted me to kill him.”
The patroon stopped his horse; I, also, full in front of him. He stared me in the face.
“Don’t try me,” he said doggedly81, “or I’ll kill you. Had I not thought he was my son he should have paid the penalty of what he knows any day these ten years past. When all’s said, I thought him but a bastard82. Ride after me in silence.”
I did as I was bid. For the one time in my life I felt completely cowed. I did not know what to do, and before the reaction came, we had reached the house and Van Volkenberg had disappeared in his study.
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1
augured
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| v.预示，预兆，预言( augur的过去式和过去分词 )；成为预兆；占卜 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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opportune
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| adj.合适的，适当的 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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deterred
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| v.阻止，制止( deter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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variance
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| n.矛盾，不同 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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vouched
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| v.保证( vouch的过去式和过去分词 )；担保；确定；确定地说 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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supplanted
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| 把…排挤掉，取代( supplant的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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turquoise
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| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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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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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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41
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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48
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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49
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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50
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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51
gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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52
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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53
awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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54
thatch
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| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
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55
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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56
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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57
plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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58
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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auld
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| adj.老的，旧的 | |
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60
jade
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| n.玉石；碧玉；翡翠 | |
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61
ballad
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| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
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62
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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63
brat
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| n.孩子；顽童 | |
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64
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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65
glowering
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| v.怒视( glower的现在分词 ) | |
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66
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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67
wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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68
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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71
lawful
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| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
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72
wedlock
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| n.婚姻，已婚状态 | |
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73
dolt
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| n.傻瓜 | |
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74
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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76
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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78
seizures
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| n.起获( seizure的名词复数 )；没收；充公；起获的赃物 | |
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79
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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81
doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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82
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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