Among other information for which he was indebted to Lucy Grice, he had learned that her uncle, Barney Dale, was in the habit of spending a couple of hours, two or three evenings a week, in the bar-parlor of the "Chequers" Inn at Dritton, where he smoked his pipe and imbibed3 his tankard of ale in the company of sundry4 cronies whose tastes in that respect were similar to his own. On inquiry5, Clem found that they had one spare bed at the "Chequers," which he at once engaged, and there he proceeded to take up his quarters, leaving his portmanteau, however, in his old lodging6 at Stavering. Dritton was a tiny hamlet of some three or four hundred inhabitants, and as there were more than one good trout7 stream in the neighborhood, Clem, who had brought his rod and tackle with him, passed for a disciple8 of the gentle craft, and was welcomed as such among the frequenters of the bar-parlor. The advent9 of a stranger who was in no way "stuck-up," and not above hobnobbing with one or another of them, made a pleasant break in the monotony of their meetings, and freshened up their provincial10 wits for the time in a way which surprised no one more than themselves.
But it was to Barney Dale that Clem paid the most assiduous court, so contriving11 matters as to occupy the seat next his, and to engage him in talk about such subjects as the old man was likely to take an interest in. He soon found that under a somewhat crabbed12 and forbidding exterior13, Barney hid a personality at once quaint14 and kindly15, and, in some respects, of an almost childlike simplicity16. On more than one occasion, as they sat side by side, Clem tried to bring the conversation round to Broome and its mistress; but Barney became at once so stolidly17 dull, and was so evidently disinclined to touch on the subject in any way, that, for fear of rendering18 him suspicious as to his ulterior motives19, he felt it best to lead back the talk into other and less personal channels.
It was Clem's object to take the old man unawares, in the hope that, in the first moment of surprise, he might unwittingly let fall some exclamation20 or remark which would help to indicate the direction in which his next step should be taken.
On a certain evening, after he had been about a week at the "Chequers," Clem was lounging purposely at the door when Barney, with the help of his stout21 blackthorn, came limping slowly up. After greetings had passed, Clem said:
"Just come into this room for a moment, Mr. Dale. I have something I want to show you."
With that he opened the door of a side room, and, Barney followed him in. Having shut the door and turned up the gas, Clem took from the table a "tinted22" cabinet-size photograph, and placed it in the old man's hands. It was Hermia's portrait, which he had that morning received from an Ashdown photographer. In it she was represented in a short-waisted white robe, a blue sash, and a grey, broad-brimmed hat with a feather of the same color; while, under her lover's directions, her chestnut23 locks had been arranged after a fashion to which they had never had to submit before, and in all probability never would again.
"Put on your glasses, Mr. Dale," said Clem, "and look at this, and tell me whether you recognize it as the likeness24 of anyone you have ever seen or known."
Putting down the photograph for a moment till he had got his spectacles astride his nose, Barney took it up again, and moving closer under the gaslight, brought his eyes to bear upon it. After staring at it for a full half-minute, his hands began to tremble, and he turned on Clem a face that was working with suppressed emotion.
"Whose likeness is this?" he demanded, hoarsely25.
"Do you not recognize it as a photograph of a certain picture in the gallery at Broome, with which you are doubtless well acquainted?"
Again the old man turned his gaze on the portrait. "Aye, aye, to be sure, I know it now," he said; and yet there was an echo of doubt in his tone. "It's a likeness of Miss Elinor Pengarvon, who lived eighty or ninety years syne26, and was engaged to Lord Doverley, but died a week afore her wedding-day. I mind me of the picture well. But--but how did you come by it?" he added glowering27 at the other with eyes which had suddenly become charged with a sort of fierce suspicion.
"It is time to undeceive you," said Clement. "The likeness in your hands is not that of the Elinor Pengarvon of ninety years ago, but of another young lady who is alive and well at this moment. It is the portrait of Miss Hermia Rivers."
Clement had nothing to go upon as to whether the mention of the name would wake any dormant28 echo in Barney's memory. He could only trust to chance that it might do so. As it proved, his hit was a fortunate one.
"Of Miss Hermia Rivers!" repeated the old man, in a sort of awed29 whisper. "Can the dead come back to life?" Then his eyes went again to the portrait. "But you say that she isn't dead--that she is alive and well; is it the truth you are telling me?"
"I was in the company of Miss Rivers less than a fortnight ago."
"Thank goodness that she still lives! M'appen, then, it may not be too late."
"Too late! What do you mean?" asked Clem.
But the old man sank into a chair and took no heed30 of the question.
"And I to have got it into my doited old head that the darling died long years ago!" he said presently, with the air of one who is talking to himself. "To be sure it was the mistress herself that led me to think so, and how was I to guess that she wanted to hide the truth?"
Presently he roused himself, and after staring at Clem for a few moments like one collecting his faculties31, he said, laying a finger on the photograph:
"And you say, sir, that you know her, and that she is alive and well?"
"I do say so," answered Clement, in his most impressive tones.
"Tell me about her--tell me all you know," exclaimed Barney, with trembling eagerness.
Accordingly, without going into any superfluous32 details, Clement proceeded to give his hearer an outline of Hermia's history from the date of her adoption33 by John Brancker onward34. He was careful to speak slowly and distinctly, and as Barney's intelligence took in one point of the narrative35 after another, he nodded his head and muttered a word or two under his breath, but otherwise he kept silent till Clem had come to an end.
"And now that I have told you so much, Mr. Dale," continued Clem, after a pause, "I trust that you, in your turn, will be able to answer me one or two questions. In the first place, will you be good enough to inform me what relation Miss Hermia Rivers is to Miss Pengarvon?"
Barney blinked at his questioner and sucked in his under-lip for a moment or two, then he said:
"I darena tell you aught, and you mustna ask me. Years and years ago my mistress bound me down by oath, never without her leave to open my lips about certain things to man, woman, or child. It was a very solemn oath, and I darena break it."
Clement was nonplussed36. "At least, you can tell me this," he said presently. "Is either of Miss Rivers's parents still living?"
"I darena answer, and you mustna ask me," was the old man's dogged reply.
Clem made a gesture of annoyance37. "Come, then, Mr. Dale," he said, "you can hardly refuse to tell me what you meant by your remark just now, that, perhaps, it 'may not be too late.'"
Barney was sitting with rounded shoulders, resting his chin on his hands, which were crossed over his stick. For a little while he did not answer.
"Bring her down to Stavering," he said, at last, bending a slow look on the young surgeon, "and I'll contrive38 for the mistress to see her. Who can tell what may come of it?" Then for the second time he said: "And I to have got it into my doited old head that the darling died ever so many years ago!"
He rose with a little difficulty, and possessed39 himself of his hat which he had taken off on entering the room. Then, laying a hand on Clem's shoulder, he said, impressively,
"Eh, but there's a great change come over the mistress! She had a sort of fit in the night about a week ago, and now the doctor comes to see her every day. But she's getting round again--oh, yes, she's getting round; and m'appen, by-and-bye, she'll be just the same as she allus was. And now, sir, do you listen to this: Don't say a word to a soul about Miss Hermia, or what brings her to Stavering. The Lord only knows what'll come of it all, but I'll try my best--I'll try my best."
In the course of the next day, Clement returned to Ashdown, where a great surprise awaited him. He reached Nairn Cottage soon after five o'clock, but found no Hermia there to greet him. Instead, a note was put into his hand by Aunt Charlotte.
"Dear Clement"--it ran.
"I have had to set off, all in a hurry, for London, where I purpose staying for the next few days with my friend, Mrs. Wingate, who was a schoolfellow of mine. I have what seem to me amply sufficient reasons for taking this step, but I do not feel at liberty to enter into any particulars until after my return, when I may have much to tell you, or, on the other hand, very little. Anyway, I hope you won't worry the least bit about me, because there is really no occasion to do so. I received your telegram this morning announcing your return, but, under the circumstances, have thought it better not to wait and see you. I will explain everything when we meet, which I hope will not be later than two or three days hence.
"Yours now and always,
"Hermia Rivers."
Clement, when he had read the note, stared at Aunt Charlotte with an air of stupefaction. "What does it mean?" he asked.
"I can tell you very little more than the note tells you," was the reply. "Yesterday was Hermia's afternoon for visiting among the poor widows and others whom she is in the habit of calling upon once a week, and oftener in cases of sickness or necessity. On reaching home last evening rather later than usual, she told us that Mrs. Varrel, a widow whom both of us have known for some years, was dead. She was very quiet during the rest of the evening, and seemed to be deep in thought. This morning, at breakfast, she announced her intention of starting for London by the eleven o'clock train. In answer to the questions John and I naturally put to her, she simply said that we must forgive her for not telling us anything at present, but that all should be explained the moment she returned. She assured us that nothing but a matter of extreme importance would have induced her to take such a step, but that we might be quite satisfied as to her safety under the roof of Mrs. Wingate. So you see, my dear Mr. Clement, that we shall just have to stifle40 our curiosity as best we can, till it pleases her ladyship to return and lift us off the tenterhooks41 of suspense42."
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clement
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| adj.仁慈的；温和的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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imbibed
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| v.吸收( imbibe的过去式和过去分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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disciple
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| n.信徒，门徒，追随者 | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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contriving
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| （不顾困难地）促成某事( contrive的现在分词 )； 巧妙地策划，精巧地制造（如机器）； 设法做到 | |
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crabbed
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| adj.脾气坏的；易怒的；（指字迹）难辨认的；（字迹等）难辨认的v.捕蟹( crab的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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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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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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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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stolidly
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| adv.迟钝地，神经麻木地 | |
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rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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syne
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| adv.自彼时至此时，曾经 | |
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glowering
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| v.怒视( glower的现在分词 ) | |
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dormant
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| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
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awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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adoption
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| n.采用，采纳，通过；收养 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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nonplussed
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| adj.不知所措的，陷于窘境的v.使迷惑( nonplus的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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tenterhooks
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| n.坐立不安 | |
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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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