"What the devil have you done to my sister?" he demanded.
Donaldson drew back, frightened by the question.
"What do you mean?" he demanded, the dog dropping from his arms to the floor.
"She 's in bed, and half out of her mind," returned the other fiercely. "She said you 'd gone! Donaldson, if you 've hurt her—"
The boy's fists were clenched1 as though he were about to strike. Donaldson stood with his arms hanging limply by his side. He felt Arsdale's right to strike if he wished.
"I have n't gone," he answered.
"I don't know what has happened," Arsdale ran on heatedly, "but I want to tell you this—that as much as you 've done for me, I won't stand for your hurting her."
"Let me see her," demanded Donaldson, coming to himself.
"She won't see any one! She 's locked up in her room. She may be dead. If she is, you 've killed her!"
Arsdale half choked upon the words. It was with difficulty that he restrained himself. He was blind to everything, save that in some way this man was responsible for the girl's suffering.
"Perhaps she 'll see me. Where is she?"
Donaldson without waiting for an answer pushed past Arsdale and the latter allowed it, but followed at his heels. Donaldson knew where she was without being told. She was in the big front room where the balcony led outdoors. He went up the stairs heavily, for he knew that more depended on the next half hour than had anything so far in all this harrowing week. Though there was plenty of light he groped his way close to the wall like a blind man. At the closed door he paused to catch his breath. In the meanwhile the boy, half frantic2, pounded on the panels, shouting over his shoulder,
"She won't let us in, I tell you! She won't let us in! She may be dead!"
At this, Donaldson forced Arsdale back. He put his mouth close to the insensate wood and called her name.
"Elaine."
There was no answer.
He knocked lightly and called again. Again the silence, the boy stumbling up against him with an inarticulate cry. The nurse joined them, and the three stood there in shivering terror. Donaldson felt panic clutching at his own heart. Before throwing his weight against the door, he tried once more.
"Elaine," he cried, "it is I—Donaldson."
There was the sound of movement within, and then came the stricken plea,
"Go away. Please go away."
Arsdale answered,
"Let me in, Elaine. Nothing shall hurt you. I'll—"
Donaldson turned upon him and the nurse.
"Go down-stairs," he commanded.
His voice made them both shudder3 back.
"Go down-stairs," he repeated. "Do you hear! Leave her to me!"
Arsdale started a protest, but the nurse, in fright, took his arm and half dragged him towards the stairs. Donaldson followed threateningly. His face was terrible. He stood at the head of the stairs until they reached the hall below. Then he returned to the door.
"Elaine," he said, "I have come back. Do you hear me, Elaine? I have come back."
He heard within the sound as of muffled4 sobbing5. He himself was breathing as though a great weight were on his chest.
"Elaine," he cried, "won't you open the door to me?"
The sobbing was broken by a tremulous voice.
"Is that you, Peter Donaldson?"
"Yes, yes!"
"Then go away and leave me, Peter Donaldson."
"Elaine, can you hear me clearly?"
There was the pause of a moment, and than the broken voice.
"Go away."
"No," he answered steadily6, "I can't. I can't go away again until I see you. You must tell me face to face to go. I 've come back to you."
She did not answer.
"Elaine," he cried, "open the door to me. Let me see you."
"I don't want to see you."
He waited a moment. Then he said more soberly,
"Elaine, I can't go away. I must stay right here until I see you. I sha'n't move from here until my soul goes. Whether you hear me or not, you will know that I am right here by the door. At the end of one hour, at the end of two hours, at the end of a day, I shall still be here. If they try to drag me away, they 'll have to fight—they 'll have to fight hard."
There was no answer. He leaned back against the wall. Below, he heard a whispered conversation between Arsdale and the nurse; within, he heard nothing. So five minutes passed, and to Donaldson the world was chaos7. He felt as though he were locked up in a tomb. There was the same feeling of dead weight upon the shoulders; the same sensation of stifling8. Then he heard her voice,
"Are you still there, Peter Donaldson?"
"Yes," he answered.
"Won't you please go away?"
"I shall not go away until I have seen you."
Then another long suspense9 began, but it was shorter than the first.
"If I let you come in for a minute, will you go then?"
"Yes," he answered, "I will go then."
It seemed an eternity10 before he heard the key turn in the lock and saw the door swing open a little. He stepped in. She had taken a position in a far corner. She had drawn11 the Japanese shawl tightly about her, and was standing12 very erect13, her white face like chiseled14 marble. He started towards her, but she checked him.
"Do not come any nearer," she commanded.
He steadied himself.
"I told you," he began abruptly15, "that I was going because I must. That was true; I went thinking I was to meet Death."
She took a step towards him.
"You were ill? You are ill now?"
"No."
He paused. Now that the time had come when he could tell her all, it was a harder thing to do than he had thought. If she withdrew from him now—what would she do after she had learned? Yet he must do this to be a free man, to be even a free spirit. There must be no more shadows between them, not even shadows of the past.
"I told you," he said, "of my life up to the time I came to New York, of the daily grind it was to get that far. That was only the beginning—after that came the real struggle. It was easy to fight with the enemy in front—with something for your fists to strike against. But then came the waiting years. I was too blind to see all the work that lay around me. I was too selfish to see what I might have fought for. I saw nothing except the wasting months. I lost my grip. I played the coward."
He took a quick, sharp breath at the word. It was like plunging16 a knife into his own heart to stand before her and say that.
"One day in the laboratory," he struggled on, "Barstow told me of a poison which would not kill until the end of seven days. Because I was not—the best kind of fighter—I—stole it and swallowed it. That was a week ago. I am here now only because the poison did n't work."
"You—you tried to kill yourself?" she cried in amazement17.
"Yes," he answered unflinchingly, "I tried to quit. There were many things I wanted—cheap, trivial things, and at the time I did n't see my course clear to getting them in any other way. The other things—the things worth while were around me all the time, but I could n't see them."
He paused. She drew away from him.
"So you see I did not do bravely. I wanted you to know this from the first, but there didn't seem to be any way. I did n't want to stand before you as a liar—as a hypocrite, and yet I did n't want to balk18 myself in the little good I found myself able to do. That silence was part of the penalty. I left you yesterday without telling, for the same reason. That and one other: because I did n't want you to think me a coward when death might cut off all opportunity for ever proving otherwise."
Again he paused, hoping against a dead hope. But she stood there, cringing19 away from him, her frightened lips dumb.
"That is all," he concluded. "Now I will go. But don't you see that I had to intrude20 long enough to tell you this? I stand absolutely honest before you. There isn't a lie in me. Now I am going to work."
He made an odd looking picture as he stood there. Haggard, hot-eyed, with a touch of color above his unshaven cheeks, he was like a victorious21 general at the end of a hard week's campaign.
He turned away from her and went out of the room. At the foot of the stairs he passed in silence Arsdale and the nurse. He turned back.
"Sandy! Sandy! Where are you?"
The dog came scrambling22 over the smooth floor with a joyous23 yelp24. He picked him up and passing out the door went down the street. The few remaining dollars he had left burned in his pocket. He tossed them into the first sewer25. He was now free—free to begin clean handed.
A little farther along he came to a gang of men at work upon the excavation26 for a new house. He needed money for food and a night's lodging27. He went to the foreman.
"Want an extra hand?"
"Wot th' devil ye 're givin' us?"
"I 'm in earnest. I have n't a cent. I need work. Try me."
The burly foreman looked him over with a grin. Then as though he saw a good joke in it, he gave him a shovel28 and sent him into the cellar.
Donaldson removed his coat and rolling up his sleeves took his place beside the others. Sandy found a comfortable nest in the discarded garment and settled down contentedly29.
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收听单词发音
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1
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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2
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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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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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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7
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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10
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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11
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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12
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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13
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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14
chiseled
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| adj.凿刻的，轮廓分明的v.凿，雕，镌( chisel的过去式 ) | |
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15
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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16
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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17
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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18
balk
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| n.大方木料；v.妨碍；不愿前进或从事某事 | |
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19
cringing
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| adj.谄媚，奉承 | |
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20
intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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21
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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22
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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23
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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yelp
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| vi.狗吠 | |
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sewer
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| n.排水沟，下水道 | |
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excavation
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| n.挖掘，发掘；被挖掘之地 | |
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27
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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28
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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29
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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