But the scene, as played, had run on other lines. The old man had crushed him. He had sworn at him, refused to listen to him, had insulted him, had treated him as no better than a shop-boy. And all this had cut to the quick. For Clement, born after Ovington had risen from the ranks, had his pride and his self-respect, and humiliated9, he cursed with all his soul the prejudice and hide-bound narrowness of the Squire and all his caste. For the time he was more than a radical10, he was a republican. If by a gesture he could have swept away King and Commons, lords and justices, he would not have held his hand.
It took him some time to recover, and it was only when he found himself, he hardly knew how, upon the bridge at Garthmyle that he grew more cool. Even then he was not quite himself. He had vowed11 that he would not see Josina again until he had claimed her from her father; but the Squire's treatment, he now felt, had absolved12 him from this, and the temptation to see her was great. He longed to pour out his mind to her, and to tell her how he had been insulted, how he had been treated. Perhaps, even, he must say farewell to her--he must give her up.
For he was not all hero, and the task before him seemed for the time too prodigious13, the labor14 too little hopeful. The Hydra15 had so many heads, and roared so fearfully that for a moment his courage sank before it--and his love. He felt that he must yield, that he must see Josina and tell her so. In any event she ought to know what had happened, and presently he put up his horse at the inn and made by a roundabout road for their meeting-place by the brook16.
There was but a chance that she would visit it, and in the meantime he had to exercise what patience he might. His castles in the air had fallen and he had not the spirit to rebuild them. He sat gazing moodily17 on the rippling18 face of the water, or watched the ousel curtsying on its stone; and he almost despaired. He had known the Squire to be formidable, he now knew him to be impossible. He looked down the stream to where Garth, lofty and fortress-like, raised its twisted chimneys above the trees, and he shook his fist at it. Remote and islanded on its knoll19, rising amid ancestral trees, it stood for all that the Squire stood for--governance, privilege, tradition, the past--all the things he had not, all the things that mocked him.
He lingered there, savoring20 his melancholy21, until the sun went down behind the hills, and then, attacked by the pangs22 of hunger, he made his way back to the village inn. Here he satisfied his appetite on such home-baked bread and yellow butter and nut-brown ale as are not in these degenerate23 times; and for wellnigh an hour he sat brooding in the sanded parlor24 surrounded by china cats and dogs--they too, would be of value nowadays. At length with a heavy heart--for what was he to do next?--he rode out of the yard, and crossing the bridge under the shadowy bulk of the squat25 church tower, he set his horse's head for home. It was nearly dark.
What was he to do next? He did not know, but as he rode through the gloom, the solemn hills falling back on either side and the dark plain widening before him, he took courage; he began to consider, with some return of hope, what lay before him, and how he must proceed--if he were not to give up. Clearly he must face the Squire, but it must be in the Squire's own house, where the Squire must hear him. The old man might insult him, rave27 at him, order him out, but before he was put out he would speak and ask for Josina, though the roof fell. There should be no further mistake. And he would let the Squire know, if it came to that, that he was a man, as good as other men. By heaven he would!
He was not all hero. But there were some heroic parts about him, and he determined28 that the very next morning he would ride out and would beard the Hydra in its den26, be its heads ever so many. He would win his lady-love or perish!
By this time he was half-way home. The market traffic on the road had ceased, the moon had not yet risen, the night lay calm and still about him. Presently as he crossed a wet, rushy flat, one of the loneliest parts of the way, he saw the lights of a vehicle coming towards him. The road at that point had not been long enclosed, and a broad strip of common still survived on either hand, so that moving on this the horse's hoofs29 made no sound save a soft plop-plop where the ground was wettest. He could hear, therefore, while still afar off, the tramp of a pair of horses driven at a trot30, and it occurred to him that this might be the Squire returning late. If he could have avoided the meeting he would have done so, though it was unlikely that the Squire would recognize him in the dark. But to turn aside would be foolish. "Hang me if I am going to be afraid of him!" he thought. And he touched up his horse with his heel.
Then an odd thing happened. While the carriage was still fifty yards from him, one of the lights went out. His eyes missed it, but his brain had barely taken in the fact when the second vanished also, as if the vehicle had sunk into the ground. At the same moment a cry reached his ears, followed by a clatter31 of hoofs on the road as if the horses were being sharply pulled up.
Clement took his horse by the head and bent32 forward, striving to make out what was passing. A dull sound, as of a heavy body striking the road reached him, followed by a silence that seemed ominous33. Even the wind appeared to have hushed its whisper through the rushes.
"Hallo!" he shouted. "What is it? Is anything the matter?" He urged his horse forward.
His cry was lost in the crack of a whip, he heard the horses break away, and without farther warning they came down upon him at a gallop34, the carriage bounding wildly behind them. He had just time to thrust his nag35 to the side, and they were on him and past him, and whirling down the road--a mere36 shadow, but as perilous37 and almost as noisy as a thunderbolt. There was no doubt now that an accident had happened, but before he could give help he had to master his horse, which had wheeled about; and so a few seconds elapsed before he reached the scene--reached it with his heart in his mouth--for who could say with what emergency he might not have to deal?
Certainly with a tragedy, for the first thing he made out was the form of a man stooping over another who lay in the road. Clement drew a breath of relief as he slipped from his saddle--he would not have to meet the crisis alone. But as his foot touched the ground, he saw the stooping man raise his hand with something in it, and he knew instinctively39 that it was raised not to help but to strike.
He shouted, and the blow hung in the air. The man, taken by surprise, straightened himself, turned, and saw Clement at his elbow. He hesitated; then, with an oath, he aimed his blow at the new-comer.
Clement parried it, rather by instinct than with intention, and so weakly, that the other's weapon beat down his guard and cut his cheek-bone. He staggered back and the villain40 raised his cudgel again. Had the second blow fallen where it was aimed, it would have finished the business. But Clement, aware now that he fought for his life, sprang within the other's guard, and before the cudgel alighted, gripped him by the neckcloth. The man gave ground, tripped backwards41 over the body that lay behind him, and in a twinkling the two were rolling together on the road, Clement striving to beat in the ruffian's face with the butt-end of his whip, while the man tried vainly to shorten his weapon and use it to purpose.
It was a desperate struggle, in the mire42, in the darkness--a struggle for life carried on in a silence that was broken only by the combatants' breathing and a rare oath. Twice each rolled the other, and once Clement, having the upper hand became aware that the fight had its spectator. He had a glimpse of a ghastly face, one side of which had been mangled43 by a murderous blow--a face that glared at them with its remaining eye. He guessed rather than saw that the man lying in the road had raised himself on an elbow, and he heard a gasping44 "At him, lad! Well done, lad!" then in a turn of the struggle he lost the vision. His opponent had him by the throat, he was undermost again--and desperate. His one thought now was to kill--to kill the brute-beast whose teeth threatened his cheek, whose hot breath burned his face, whose hands gripped his throat. He struck again and again, and eventually, supple45 and young, and perhaps the stronger, he freed himself and staggered to his feet, raising his whip to strike.
But the same thing happened to him which had happened to his assailant. As he stepped back to give power to the blow, he fell over the third man. He came down heavily, and for a moment he was at the other's mercy. Fortunately the rascal46's courage was at an end. He got to his feet, but instead of pursuing his advantage, he snatched up something that lay on the ground, and sped away down the road, as quickly as his legs could carry him.
Clement recovered his feet, but more slowly, for the fall had shaken him. Still, his desire for vengeance47 was hot, and he set off in pursuit. The man had a good start, however, and presently, leaving the road and leaping the ditch, made off across the open common. To follow farther promised little, for in a few seconds his figure, already shadowy, melted into the darkness of the fields. Clement gave up the chase, and turned back, panting and out of breath.
He did not feel his wound, much less did he feel the misgivings48 which had beset49 him when he came upon the scene. Instead, he experienced a new and thrilling elation50. He had measured his strength against an enemy, he had faced death in fight, he felt himself equal to any and every event. Even when stooping over the prostrate51 figure he saw the mangled and bleeding face turned up to the sky it did not daunt52 him, nor the darkness, nor the loneliness. The injured man seemed to be aware of his presence for he made an attempt to rise; but he failed, and would have fallen back on the road if Clement, dropping on one knee, had not sustained his head on the other. It was the Squire. So much he saw; but it was a Squire past not only scolding but speech, whom he held in his arms and whose head he supported. To all Clement's questions he made no answer. It was much if he still breathed.
Clement glanced about him, and his confidence began to leave him. What was he to do? He could not go for help, leaving the old man lying in the road; yet it was impossible to do much in the dark, either to ascertain53 the extent of the Squire's hurt, or to use means to stanch54 it. The moon had not yet risen, the plain stretched dark about them, no sound except the melancholy whisper of the wind in the rushes reached him. There was no house near and it was growing late. No one might pass for hours.
Fortunately when he had reached this stage he remembered that he had his tinder box and matches in his pocket, and he fumbled55 for them with his disengaged hand. With an effort, he got them out. But to strike a light and catch it in the huddled56 posture57 in which he knelt was not easy, and it was only after a score of attempts that the match caught the flame. Even so, the light it gave was faint, but it revealed the Squire's face, and Clement saw, with a shudder58, that the left eye and temple were terribly battered59. But he saw, too, that the old man was conscious, for he uttered a groan60, and peered with the uninjured eye at the face that bent over him. "Good lad!" he muttered, "good lad!" and he added broken words which conveyed to Clement's mind that it was his man who had attacked him. Then--his face was so turned that it was within a few inches of Clement's shoulder--"You're bloody61, lad," he muttered. "He's spoiled your coat, the d--d rascal!"
With that he seemed to slip back into unconsciousness, and the light went out. It left Clement in a strait to know what he ought to do, or rather what he could do. Help he must get, and speedily, if he would save the Squire's life, but his horse was gone, and to walk away for help, leaving the old man lying in the mud of the way seemed inhuman62. He must at least carry him to the side of the road.
The task was no light one, for the Squire was tall, though not stout63; and before Clement stooped to it he cast a last look round. But silence still wrapped all, and he was gathering64 his strength to lift the dead weight, when a sound caught his ear, and he raised himself. A moment, and joy!--he caught the far-off beat of hoofs on the turf. Someone was coming, approaching him from the direction of Aldersbury. He shouted, shouted his loudest and waited. Yes, he was not mistaken. The soft plop-plop of hoofs grew louder, two forms loomed65 out of the darkness, a horse shied, a man swore.
"Here!" Clement cried. "Here! Take care! There's a man in the road."
"Where?" Then, "Confound you, you nearly had me down! Are you hurt?"
"No, but"
"I've got your horse. I met him a couple of miles this side of the town. What has----"
Clement broke in. "There's bad work here!" he cried, his voice shaky. Now that help was at hand and the peril38 was over, he began to feel what he had gone through. "For God's sake get down and help me. Your uncle's man has robbed him and, I fear, murdered him."
"The Squire?"
"Yes, yes. He's lying here, half dead. We must get him to the side of the road at once."
Arthur slipped from his saddle, and holding the reins66 of the two horses, approached the group as nearly as the frightened beasts would let him. "Quiet, fools!" he cried angrily. And then, "Good heavens!" in a whisper, as he peered awe-stricken at the injured man. "Is he dead?"
"No, but he's terribly mauled. And we must get help. Help, man, and quickly, if it is to be of any use. Shall I go?"
"No, no, I'll go," Arthur answered, recoiling67. What he had seen had given him no desire to take Clement's place. "Garthmyle is the nearer, and I shall not be long. I'll tie up your horse--that'll be best."
There was an old thorn-tree standing68 solitary69 in the waste not many yards away: a tree destined70 to be pointed71 out for years to come as marking the spot where the old Squire was robbed. Arthur tied Clement's horse to this, then together they lifted the old man and carried him to the side of the road. The moment that this was done, Arthur sprang on his horse and started off. "Back soon," he shouted.
Clement had not seen his way to object, but it was with a heavy heart that he resigned himself to another period of painful waiting. He was cold, his face smarted, and at any moment the old man might die on his hands. Meantime he could do nothing but wait. Or yes, he could do something; chilled as he was, he took off his coat, and rolling it up, he slipped it under the insensible head.
Little had he thought that morning that he would ever pity the Squire. But he did. The man who had driven away from him, hard, aggressive, indomitable, asking no man's help and meeting all men's eyes with the gaze of a master, now lay at his feet, crushed and broken; lay with his head on the coat of the man he had despised, dependent on him for the poor service that still might avail him. Clement felt the pathos72 of it, and the pity. And his heart was sore for Josina. How would she meet, how bear the shock that a short hour must inflict73 on her?
He was thinking of her, when, long before he had dared to expect relief, he heard a sound that resolved itself into the rattle74 of wheels. Yes, there was a carriage coming along the road.
Arthur had been fortunate. He had come upon the Squire's horses, which had been brought to a stand with the near wheels of the curricle wedged in the ditch. He had found them greedily feeding, and he had let his own nag go, and had captured the runaways75. He had drawn76 the carriage out of the ditch, and here he was.
"Thank God!" Clement cried. "I think that he is still alive."
"And we've got to lift him in," said Arthur, more practical. "He's a big weight."
It was not an easy task. But they tied up the horses to the thorn-tree, and lifting the old man between them, they carried him with what care they might to the carriage, raised him, heavy and helpless as he was, to the step, and then, while one maintained him there, the other climbed in and lifted him to the front seat. Clement got up behind and supported his shoulders and head, while Arthur, first tying the saddle-horse behind the carriage, released the pair, and with the reins in his hands scrambled77 to his place.
The thing was done and cleverly done, and they set off. But they dared not travel at more than a walk, and never had the three miles to Garthmyle seemed so long or so tedious.
They were both anxious and both excited. But while in Clement's mind pity, a sense of the tragedy before him, and thought for Josina contended with an honest pride in what he had done, the other, as they drove along, was already calculating chances and busy with contingencies78. The Squire's death--if the Squire died--would work a great change, an immense change. Things which had yesterday been too doubtful and too distant to deserve much thought would be within reach, would be his for the asking. And he was the more inclined to consider this because Betty--dear little creature as she was--had shown a spirit that day that was not to his liking79. Whereas Josina, mild and docile--it might be that after all she would suit him better. And Garth--Garth with its wide acres and its rich rent-roll would be hers; Garth that would give any man a position to be envied. Its charms, while uncertain and dependent on the whim80 and caprice of an arbitrary old man, had not fixed81 him, for to attain82 to them he must give up other things, equally to his mind. But now the case was or might be altered. He must wait and watch events, and keep an open mind. If the Squire died----
A word or two passed between the couple, but for the most part they were silent. Once and again the Squire moaned, and so proved that he still lived. At last, where the road to Garth branched off, at the entrance to the village, they saw a light in front, and old Fewtrell carrying a lanthorn met them. The Squire's absence had alarmed the house, and he had come thus far in quest of news.
"Oh, Lord, ha' mercy! Lord, ha' mercy!" the old fellow quavered as he lifted his lanthorn and the light disclosed the group in the carriage, and his master's huddled form and ghastly visage. "Miss Jos said 'twas so! Said as summat had happened him! Beside herself, she be! She've been down at the gate this half-hour waiting on him!"
"Don't let her see him," Clement cried. "Go, man, and send her back."
But, "That's no good," Arthur objected with more sense but less feeling. "She must see him. This is women's work, we can do nothing. Let Fewtrell take your place and do you go for the doctor. You know where he lives, and you'll go twice as quick as he will, and there's no more that you can do. Take your horse."
Clement was unwilling to go, unwilling to have no farther part in the matter. But he could not refuse. Things were as they were; in spite of all that he had done and suffered, he had no place there, no standing in the house, no right beside his mistress or call to think for her. He was a stranger, an outsider, and when he had fetched the doctor, there would, as Arthur had said, be nothing more that he could do.
Nothing more, though as he rode over the bridge and trotted83 through the village his heart was bursting with pity for her whom he could not comfort, could not see; from whose side in her troubles and her self-arraignment--for he knew that she would reproach herself--he must be banished84. It was hard.
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1
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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clement
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| adj.仁慈的；温和的 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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approbation
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| n.称赞；认可 | |
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humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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absolved
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| 宣告…无罪，赦免…的罪行，宽恕…的罪行( absolve的过去式和过去分词 )； 不受责难，免除责任 [义务] ,开脱（罪责） | |
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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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hydra
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| n.水螅；难于根除的祸患 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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knoll
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| n.小山，小丘 | |
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savoring
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| v.意味，带有…的性质( savor的现在分词 )；给…加调味品；使有风味；品尝 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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rave
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| vi.胡言乱语；热衷谈论；n.热情赞扬 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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elation
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| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
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prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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daunt
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| vt.使胆怯，使气馁 | |
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ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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stanch
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| v.止住（血等）；adj.坚固的；坚定的 | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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recoiling
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| v.畏缩( recoil的现在分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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runaways
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| （轻而易举的）胜利( runaway的名词复数 ) | |
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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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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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contingencies
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| n.偶然发生的事故，意外事故( contingency的名词复数 )；以备万一 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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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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