"Good lad!" he muttered. "Good lad! Jos?"
"Yes, father." She rose and came towards him.
"Where's Arthur?"
"He went out with your message."
"To be sure! To be sure! I'm forgetting."
But, once started on the road to recovery, he did not forget much. From his high, four-post bed with the drab hangings in which his father and grandfather had died, he gripped house and lands in a firm grip. Morning by morning he would have his report of the lambs, of the wheat, of the hay-corps, of the ploughing on the eight acres where the Swedish turnips7 were to go. He would know what corn went to the mill, what mutton to the house. The bounds-fence that Farmer Bache had neglected was not forgotten, nor the young colt that he had decided8 to take against Farmer Price's arrears9, nor the lease for lives that involved a knotty10 point of which he proved himself to be in complete possession.
Indeed, he showed himself indomitable, the old heart in him still strong; so that neither the shock that he had borne, nor the pain that he had suffered, nor the possibility of permanent blindness which they could not wholly hide from him, sufficed to subdue11 or unman him.
Only in one or two things was a change apparent. He reverted12 more often to an older and ruder form of speech familiar to him when George the Third was young, but which of late he had only used when talking with his tenants13. He said "Dunno you do this!" and "I wunt ha' that!" used "ship" for sheep, and "goold" for gold, called Thomas a "gallus bad rascal," and the like.
And in another and more important point he was changed. For eyes he must now depend on someone, and though he showed that he liked to have Jos about him and bore with her when the Pea-hen's fussiness14 drove him to bad words, it was soon clear that the person he chose was Arthur. Arthur was restored, and more than restored to favor. It was "Where's Arthur?" a score of times a day. Arthur must come, must go, must be ever at his elbow. He must check such and such an account, see the overseers about such an one, speak to the constable15 about another, go into Aldersbury about the lease. Even when Arthur was absent the Squire's thoughts ran on him, and often he would mutter "Good lad! Good lad!" when he thought himself alone.
It was a real bouleversement, but Josina, supposing that Arthur had saved her father's life at the risk of his own, and had then added to his merit by recovering the lost money, found it natural enough. For the full details of the robbery had never been told to her. "Better leave it alone, Jos," Arthur had said when she had again shown a desire to know more. "It was a horrid16 business and you won't want to dream of it. Another minute and that d--d villain17 would have--but there, I'd advise you to leave it alone."
Jos, suspecting nothing, had not demurred18, but on the contrary had thought Arthur as modest as he was brave. And the doctor, with an eye to his patient's well-being19, had taken the same view. "Put no questions to him," he said, "and don't talk to him about it. Time enough to go into it by and by, when the shock's worn off. The odds20 are that he will remember nothing that happened just before the scoundrel struck his--that's the common thing--and so much the better, my dear. Let sleeping dogs lie, or, as we doctors say, don't think about your stomach till your victuals21 trouble you."
So Josina knew no particulars except that Arthur had saved his uncle's life, and Clement22--she shuddered23 as she thought of it--had come up in time to be of service. And no one at Garth knew more. But, knowing so much, it was not surprising to her that Arthur should be restored to favor, and, lately forbidden the house, should now rule it as a master. And clearly Arthur, also, found the position natural, so easily did he fall into it. He was up and down the old shallow stairs--which the Squire, true to the fashions of his youth, had never carpeted--a dozen times a day. He was as often in and out of his uncle's bedroom, or sitting on the deep window-seat on which generations of mothers had sunned their babes; and all this with a laugh and a cheery word that wondrously24 brightened the sick room. Alert, quick, serviceable, and willing to take any responsibility, he made himself a favorite with all. Even Calamy, who shook his head over every improvement in the Squire, and murmured much of the "old lamp flickering26 before it went out," grew hopeful in his presence. Miss Peacock adored him. He put Josina's nose out of joint27.
Of the young fellow, whose moodiness28 had of late perplexed29 his companions in the bank, not a trace remained. Had they seen him as he was now they might have been tempted30 to think that a weight had been lifted from him. But he seemed, for the time, to have forgotten the bank. He rarely mentioned the Ovingtons.
There was one at Garth, however, who had not forgotten either the bank or the Ovingtons; and proved it presently to Arthur's surprise. "Jos," said the Squire one afternoon. And when she had replied that she was there, "Where is Arthur?"
"I think he has just come in, sir."
"Prop31 me up. And send him to me. Do you leave us."
She went, wondering a little for she had not been dismissed before. She sent Arthur, who, after his usual fashion, scaled the stairs at three bounds. He found the old man sitting up in the shadow of the curtains, a grotesque32 figure with his bandaged head. The air of the room was not so much musty as ancient, savoring33 of worm-eaten wood and long decayed lavender, and linen34 laid by in presses. On each side of the drab tester hung a dim flat portrait, faded and melancholy35, in a carved wooden frame, unglazed; below each hung a sampler. "You sent for me, sir?"
"Ay. When's that money due?"
The question was so unexpected that for a moment Arthur did not take it in. Then the blood rushed to his face. "My mother's money, sir?"
"What else? What other money is there, that's due? I forget things but I dunno forget that."
"You don't forget much, sir," Arthur replied cheerfully. "But there's no hurry about that."
"When?"
"Well, in two months from the twenty-first, sir. But there is not the least hurry."
"This is the seventeenth?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, I'll pay and ha' done with it. But I'll ha' to sell stock. East India Stock it is. What are they at, lad?"
"Somewhere about two hundred and seventy odd, I think, sir."
"And how do you sell 'em?" The Squire knew a good deal about buying stock but little about selling it, and he winced36 as he put the question. But he bore the pang37 gallantly38, for had not the boy earned his right to the money and to his own way? Ay, and earned it by a service as great as one man could perform for another? For the Squire had no more reason than those about him to doubt that he owed his life to his nephew. He had found him beside his bed when he had recovered his senses, and putting together this and certain words which had fallen from others, and adding his own hazy39 impressions of the happenings of the night, and of the young man on whose shoulder he had leant, he had never questioned the fact. "How do you go about to sell 'em?" he repeated. "I suppose you know?"
"Oh, yes, sir, it's my business," Arthur replied. "You have to get a transfer--they are issued at the India House. You've only to sign it before two witnesses. It is quite simple, sir."
"Well, I can do that. Do you see to it, lad."
"You wouldn't wish to do it through Ovington's?"
"No!" the Squire rapped out. "Do it yourself. And lose no time. Write at once."
"Very well, sir. I suppose you have the certificates?"
"'Course I have," annoyed. "Isn't the stock mine?"
"Very good, sir. I'll see to it."
"Well, see to it. And, mark ye, when you're in Aldersbury see Welshes, and tell them I'm waiting for that lease of lives. I signed the agreement for the new lease six weeks ago and I should ha' had the lease by now. Stir 'em up, and say I must have it. The longer I'm waiting the longer the bill will be! I know 'em, damn 'em, though Welshes are not the worst."
When he had settled this he wanted a letter written, and Arthur sat down at the oaken bureau that stood between the windows, its faded green lining40 stained with the ink of a century and its pigeon-holes crammed41 with receipts and sample-bags. While he wrote his thoughts were busy with the matter that they had just discussed, but it was not until he found himself standing42 at a window outside the room, staring with unseeing eyes over the green vale, that he brought his thoughts to a head, and knew that even at the eleventh hour he hesitated.
Yes, he hesitated. The thing that he had so much desired, that had presented itself to him in such golden hues43, that had dazzled his ambition and absorbed his mind, was within his grasp now, ready to be garnered--and yet he hesitated. Ovington was a just man and beyond doubt would release him and cancel the partnership44 agreement, if he desired to have it cancelled. And he was very near to desiring it at this moment.
For he saw now that there were other things to be garnered--Garth, its broad acres, its fine rent-roll, the old man's savings45, Josina. Secure of the Squire's favor he had but to stretch out his hand, and all these things might be his; might certainly be his if he gave up the bank and his prospects46 there. That step, if he took it, would remove his uncle's last objection; it would bind47 him to him by a triple bond. And it would do more. It would ease his own mind, by erasing48 from the past--for he would no longer need the five thousand--a thing which troubled his conscience and harassed49 him when he lay awake at night. It would erase50 that blot51, it would make all clean behind him, and it would at the same time remove the impalpable barrier that had risen between him and his mother.
It was still in his power to do all this. A word would do it. He had only to go back to the Squire and tell him that he had changed his mind, that he no longer wanted the money, and was not going into the bank.
He hesitated, standing at the window, looking on the green vale and the hillside beyond it. Yes, he might do it. But what if he repented52 later? And what security had he for those other things? His uncle might live for years, long years, might live to quarrel with him and discard him. Did not the proverb say that it was ill-work waiting for dead men's shoes? And Josina? Doubtless he might win Josina, for the wooing; he had no doubt about that. But he was not sure that he wanted Josina.
He decided at last that the question might wait. Until he had written the letter to the brokers53, until then, at any rate, either course was open to him. He went downstairs. In the wainscoted hall, small and square, with a high narrow window on each side of the door, his mother and Josina were sitting on one of the window seats. The door stood open, the spring air and the sunshine poured in. "I'm telling her that she's not looking well," his mother said, as he joined them.
"She spends too much time in that room," he answered. Then, after a moment's thought, rattling54 the money in his fob, "Is Farmer coming to-day?"
"No." The girl spoke55 listlessly. "I don't think he is."
"He's made a wonderful recovery," his mother observed.
"Yes--if it's a real recovery."
"At any rate, the doctor hopes that he may come downstairs in ten days. And then, I'm afraid, we shall have Josina to nurse."
The girl protested that she was well, quite well. But her heavy eyes and the shadows under them belied56 her words.
"Well, I'm off to town," he said, "I have to see Welshes for him."
He left them, and ten minutes later he was on the road to Aldersbury, still undecided, still uncertain what course he would pursue, and at one moment accusing himself of a weakness that deserved the contempt of every strong man, at another praising moderation and a country life. Had he had eyes and ears for the things about him as he rode, he might have found much to support the latter view. The cawing of rooks, the murmur25 of wood-doves, the scents57 of late spring filled the balmy air. The sky was pure blue, and beneath it the pastures shone yellow with buttercups. Tree and field, bank and hedge-row rioted in freshest green, save where the oak wood, slow to change and careless of fashion, clung to its orange garb58, or the hawthorn59 stood out, a globe of snow. The cuckoo and the early corncrake told of coming summer, and behind him the Welsh hills simmered in the first heat of the year. Clement, had he passed that way, would have noted60 it all, and in the delight of the eye and the spring-tide of all growing things would have found ground to rejoice, whatever his trouble.
But Arthur, wrapt in his own thoughts, barely noticed these things. He rode with his eyes fixed61 on his horse's ears, and only roused himself when he saw the very man whom he wished to see coming to meet him. It was Dr. Farmer, in the mahogany-topped boots, the frilled shirt, and the old black coat--shaped as are our dress coats but buttoned tightly round the waist--which the dust of a dozen summers and every road in the district had whitened.
"Hallo, doctor!" Arthur cried as they met. "Are you going up to the house to-day?"
"No, Mr. Bourdillon. But I can if necessary. How is he?"
"That is what I want you to tell me. One can't talk freely at the house and I have a reason for wishing to know. How is he, doctor?"
"Do you mean----"
"Has this really shaken him? Will he be the same man again?"
"I see." Farmer rubbed his chin with the horn-handle of his riding-crop. "Well--I see no reason at present why he should not be. He's one in a hundred, you know. Sound heart, good digestion62, a little gouty--but tough. Tough! You never know, of course. There may be some harm we haven't detected, but I should say that he had a good few years of life in him yet."
"Ah!"
"Of course, an unusual recovery--from such injuries. And I say nothing about the sight. I'm not hopeful of that."
"Well," said Arthur. "I'll tell you why I asked. There's a question arisen about a lease for lives--his is one. But you won't talk, of course."
Farmer nodded. He found it quite natural. Leases for lives were still common, and doctors were often consulted as to the value of lives which survived or which it was proposed to insert. With another word or two they parted and Arthur rode on.
But he no longer doubted. To wait for eight or ten years, dependent on the whims63 of an arbitrary and crotchety old man? No! Only in a moment of imbecility could he have dreamed of resigning for this, the golden opportunities that the new world, opening before him, offered to all who had the courage to seize them. He had been mad to think of it, and now he was sane64. Garth was worth a mass. He might have served a year or two for it. But seven, or it might be ten? No. Besides, why should he not take the Squire at his word and make the best of both worlds, and availing himself of the favor he had gained, employ the one to exploit the other? He had his foot in at Garth and he was no fool, he could make himself useful. Already, he was well aware, he had made himself liked.
It was noon when he rode into Aldersbury, the town basking65 in the first warmth of the year, the dogs lying stretched in the sunshine. And he was in luck, for, having met Farmer, he now met Frederick Welsh coming down Maerdol. The lawyer, honestly concerned for his old friend, was urgent in inquiry66, and when he had heard the news, "Thank God!" he said. "I'm as pleased to hear that as if I'd made a ten-pound note! Aldshire without the Squire--things would be changing, indeed!"
Arthur told him what the Squire had said about the lease. But that was another matter. The Squire was too impatient. "He's got his agreement. We'll draw the lease as soon as we can," the lawyer said. "The office is full, and more haste less speed. We'll let him know when it's ready." Like all old firms he was dilatory67. There was no hurry. All in good time.
They parted, and Arthur rode up the street, alert and smiling, and many eyes followed him--followed him with envy. He worked at the bank, he had his rooms on the Town Walls, he chatted freely with this townsman and that. He was not proud. But they never forgot who he was. They did not talk to him as they talked even to Ovington. Ovington had risen and was rich, but he came as they came, of common clay. But this young man, riding up the street in the sunshine, smiling and nodding this way and that, his hand on his thigh68, belonged to another order. He was a Griffin--a Griffin of Garth. He might lose his all, his money might fly from him, but he would still be a Griffin, one of the caste that ruled as well as reigned69, that held in its grasp power and patronage70. They looked after him with envy.
点击收听单词发音
1 squire | |
n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 grunt | |
v.嘟哝;作呼噜声;n.呼噜声,嘟哝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 spacious | |
adj.广阔的,宽敞的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 uneven | |
adj.不平坦的,不规则的,不均匀的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 casement | |
n.竖铰链窗;窗扉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 turnips | |
芜青( turnip的名词复数 ); 芜菁块根; 芜菁甘蓝块根; 怀表 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 arrears | |
n.到期未付之债,拖欠的款项;待做的工作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 knotty | |
adj.有结的,多节的,多瘤的,棘手的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 subdue | |
vt.制服,使顺从,征服;抑制,克制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 reverted | |
恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 ); 重提; 回到…上; 归还 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 tenants | |
n.房客( tenant的名词复数 );佃户;占用者;占有者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 fussiness | |
[医]易激怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 constable | |
n.(英国)警察,警官 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 horrid | |
adj.可怕的;令人惊恐的;恐怖的;极讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 villain | |
n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 demurred | |
v.表示异议,反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 well-being | |
n.安康,安乐,幸福 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 odds | |
n.让步,机率,可能性,比率;胜败优劣之别 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 victuals | |
n.食物;食品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 clement | |
adj.仁慈的;温和的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 shuddered | |
v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 wondrously | |
adv.惊奇地,非常,极其 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 flickering | |
adj.闪烁的,摇曳的,一闪一闪的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 moodiness | |
n.喜怒无常;喜怒无常,闷闷不乐;情绪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 perplexed | |
adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 tempted | |
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 prop | |
vt.支撑;n.支柱,支撑物;支持者,靠山 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 grotesque | |
adj.怪诞的,丑陋的;n.怪诞的图案,怪人(物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 savoring | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 linen | |
n.亚麻布,亚麻线,亚麻制品;adj.亚麻布制的,亚麻的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 winced | |
赶紧避开,畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 pang | |
n.剧痛,悲痛,苦闷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 gallantly | |
adv. 漂亮地,勇敢地,献殷勤地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 hazy | |
adj.有薄雾的,朦胧的;不肯定的,模糊的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 lining | |
n.衬里,衬料 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 crammed | |
adj.塞满的,挤满的;大口地吃;快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满;填入;临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 hues | |
色彩( hue的名词复数 ); 色调; 信仰; 观点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 partnership | |
n.合作关系,伙伴关系 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 savings | |
n.存款,储蓄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 prospects | |
n.希望,前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 bind | |
vt.捆,包扎;装订;约束;使凝固;vi.变硬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 erasing | |
v.擦掉( erase的现在分词 );抹去;清除 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 harassed | |
adj. 疲倦的,厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 erase | |
v.擦掉;消除某事物的痕迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 blot | |
vt.弄脏(用吸墨纸)吸干;n.污点,污渍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 repented | |
对(自己的所为)感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 brokers | |
n.(股票、外币等)经纪人( broker的名词复数 );中间人;代理商;(订合同的)中人v.做掮客(或中人等)( broker的第三人称单数 );作为权力经纪人进行谈判;以中间人等身份安排… | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 rattling | |
adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 spoke | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 belied | |
v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 );证明(或显示)…为虚假;辜负;就…扯谎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 scents | |
n.香水( scent的名词复数 );气味;(动物的)臭迹;(尤指狗的)嗅觉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 garb | |
n.服装,装束 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 hawthorn | |
山楂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 digestion | |
n.消化,吸收 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 WHIMS | |
虚妄,禅病 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 sane | |
adj.心智健全的,神志清醒的,明智的,稳健的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 basking | |
v.晒太阳,取暖( bask的现在分词 );对…感到乐趣;因他人的功绩而出名;仰仗…的余泽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 inquiry | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 dilatory | |
adj.迟缓的,不慌不忙的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 thigh | |
n.大腿;股骨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 reigned | |
vi.当政,统治(reign的过去式形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 patronage | |
n.赞助,支援,援助;光顾,捧场 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |