Nor was his amiability12 increased when he one day read in the Times an announcement of the marriage of Miss Leslie to Lord Penwhistle. That Mrs. Mordaunt would hurry on the match he knew full well, and for some time he had never opened a newspaper without half expecting to see the announcement, yet for all that, now it had come, it was like a sudden stab. That Clara was fickle13, mercenary, and altogether lacking in stability of character, he had long ago made up his mind; indeed, there had not been wanting times when he had told himself he ought to thank his stars that, at whatever cost to himself, he had been hindered from uniting his fate with hers. Still, despite all this, it was inevitable14 that he should feel a lingering tendresse for one around whom, only such a little while before, his imagination had woven the golden tissues of the fairest day-dreams his life had yet known.
Sadly and bitterly sped the next few days for Burgo. There was nothing for him to do, there was nothing he could do, save lie on his back and think--think--think. And what a pleasant and profitable occupation that is when we are possessed15 at once with a sense of our helplessness and a burning anxiety to be up and doing, some of us may unfortunately have learnt to our cost.
Still, despite his anxiety to follow up with the least possible delay the clue which Benny Hines's niece had furnished him with, he recognised how useless and foolish it would be to do so till he should be able to move about with some measure of activity. Consequently it was not till upwards16 of a fortnight from the date of his accident that he finally found himself en route for Oakbarrow station, and even then he was not able to walk more than a few yards without the help of a stout17 malacca.
Oakbarrow station is between two and three miles inland. On reaching there Burgo hired a fly to convey himself and his portmanteau to Crag End, an insignificant18 fishing hamlet about a mile and a half from the Keep, which lived in his memory as a spot where he and his uncle had been caught in a thunder-storm on the occasion of their visit six years before. There was only one tolerable inn in the place, and there Burgo alighted. Yes, they would be glad to accommodate him in their humble19 way, said the landlord. He could have a bedroom, and also the use of the upstairs sitting-room20, except on market days, when the country folk and their wives looked to have the run of the house. Burgo, who was never exacting21 in minor22 matters, professed24 himself as being quite satisfied; and as things turned out he had every reason for being so.
Knowing how curious people in little country places are with regard to the names and business of strangers, Burgo wisely determined25 to supply the needful information about himself before curiosity had time to be hatched. His name was Lumsden, he told Tyson, the landlord; he was from London, and was by profession an artist. He had journeyed all the way to Cumberland partly in the hope of benefiting his health, and partly with the view of taking a series of sketches26 of the scenery and objects of interest in the neighbourhood for one of the illustrated28 papers. As it happened, he could sketch27 fairly well for an amateur, and he had been careful that his luggage should include the needful drawing materials, together with a portfolio29 containing sundry30 studies in chalks and pencil several years old.
His intention had been to take a quiet stroll with the help of his malacca in the dusk of evening in the direction of the Keep and reconnoitre it from a distance.
He wanted to familiarise himself with the features of the old place, with regard to some of which his memory was rather uncertain. But towards four o'clock the weather changed and it began to rain heavily, nor did it cease till night had fairly set in. It was undeniably annoying, but there was no help for it. "Mr. Lumsden" must perforce remain indoors till the morrow.
But it seemed to him that if he could not make use of his time in the way he had designed, he might perhaps be able to do so in another way. There were many things he was still ignorant of, many things which, figuratively speaking, he was dying to know, and he thought it not unlikely that his landlord might be able to enlighten him with regard to some of them. Tyson, if not a man of much education, was intelligent and well-mannered, and had nothing of the provincial31 boor32 about him. In his younger days he had been a gentleman's servant and had travelled--a fact which he was careful to impress upon all who were brought into contact with him. In that simple little community it gave him a certain cachet, and enabled him to speak with an air of authority on many subjects about which in reality he knew next to nothing. His trained eye had at once detected that "Mr. Lumsden" was not quite what he professed to be--that there was far less of the wandering artist than of the West End flaneur about him. Dress, voice, manner, and that elusive33 something which makes its presence felt but defies definition, all betrayed him.
"Don't tell me!" said Mr. Tyson to his wife, who had not spoken for the last five minutes; "he's a swell34 to his finger-tips, and I think I ought to know one when I see him. He's doing the artist dodge35 for a lark36, or because he's quarrelled with his governor, or because his young woman's given him the go-bye. Anyhow, it's no business of ours, and if Mr. Lumsden thinks he has thrown dust in my eyes he's quite welcome to his opinion. Only, as I said before, I know a real swell when I see one."
It is not, therefore, to be wondered at that when Mr. Lumsden, after the candles had been lighted, complained of feeling a little lonely, and requested as a favour that the landlord would keep him company over a bottle of "John Jameson" (what wine there was in the house he had found wholly unthinkable), and some of Burgo's own cigars, that worthy37 should have complied with alacrity38.
Burgo had the knack39, when he chose to exercise it, which was not always by any means, of putting those who, in no offensive sense, might be termed his inferiors, at their ease, and in five minutes Mr. Tyson felt himself quite at home, while at the same time perfectly40 aware that there was an invisible line drawn41 between himself and the man seated opposite him which he must on no account attempt to overpass42. But the landlord was one of the last men to have attempted anything of the kind.
A turf fire had been lighted which, if it did not throw out much heat, imparted an air of cheerfulness to the homely43 sitting-room, for in September on the Cumberland seaboard the nights often strike sojourners from the South as being unpleasantly chilly44. On this particular evening a cold rain was falling outside, and the incoming tide had brought with it a wind which tore in fitful gusts45 down the village street and smote46 each diamond-paned window with a watery47 lash48 in passing. A couple of wax candles, reserved by Mrs. Tyson for very special occasions, in brass49 candlesticks of amazing brilliancy, stood on the oaken three-legged table, together with all the appliances for the manufacture of toddy after the most approved recipe.
When the landlord, at Mr. Lumsden's request, had mixed a couple of steaming jorums, the first thing he did was to drink his guest's health, and the second to help himself to a cigar from the latter's case. A comfortable hassock had been supplied Burgo on which to rest his lame50 ankle, and as he basked51 in front of the little fire he told himself that the "Golden Owl52" was a bird of which he should retain a pleasant recollection as long as he lived.
"And which is the most picturesque53 and interesting mansion54, castle, or ruin within an easy walk of Crag End, Mr. Tyson?" queried55 Burgo, after having duly tested the quality of his grog.
"Well, sir, I'm afraid we're rather destitute56 hereabouts of the things you speak of. After you've sketched57 Garion Keep you'll find nothing worth looking at nearer than Kippsley Castle, eight miles away."
"And this Garion Keep that you speak of, is it a ruin, or does any one live in it?
"It had been in a partially58 ruinous condition for longer than I remember it till about a year ago, when the present owner, Sir Everard Clinton, took into his head to have it thoroughly59 restored and made fit to live in."
"With the usual result, I suppose, of spoiling its old-time picturesqueness60. But I seem to know the name of Sir Everard Clinton. Was he not married a few months ago to a lady much younger than himself?"
"The same man, sir. Report has it that he's a good bit over sixty, whereas the lady looks young enough to be his daughter."
"So I have been told: such things get talked about in London. And are Sir Everard and his wife now in residence at the Keep?"
"They came down about a fortnight ago, all in a hurry--at least they never sent word to Farmer Jellicoe, who had the keys and the looking-after of the place, that they were coming, and so, of course, nothing had been got ready for them. Next day, however, half a dozen or more servants followed them from London, though why the servants couldn't have been sent on first and have got things shipshape for their master and mistress is what I for one don't profess23 to understand."
But Burgo understood.
Polly's information had proved to be correct; his uncle had been brought to the Keep, and at that moment he, Burgo, was less than a mile away from him. For a few moments, although he seemed to be puffing61 placidly62 at his cigar, he was too inwardly agitated63 to trust himself to speak.
It was the landlord who first broke the silence.
"They do say there's no finer air anywhere than our Cumberland air," he remarked; "so let us hope it'll do the poor gentleman good and help to set him on his legs again."
"Sir Everard was ill when he arrived at the Keep, was he?"
"Mortal bad, sir. At Oakbarrow station he had to be carried from the railway carriage to Jim Wilson's fly--the same that brought you, sir--by Jim and his valet, and from the fly into the house when they reached the Keep."
"That was a fortnight ago. Do you know whether Sir Everard's health has improved in the meanwhile?"
The landlord shook his head. "They're very close up at the Keep--for one thing, perhaps, because the servants are all stuck-up Londoners, and very little news is allowed to leak out. It seems certain that the poor gentleman has never been outside the house since he was carried into it; but there's a roomy lawn between the house and the edge of the cliff, and a sea-wall with a sheltered walk behind it, and mayhap on fine days he might be found out there, if one really knew."
"Has he no medical man attending him?"
"Oh, yes, sir, Dr. Rapp was sent for the very day after Sir Everard arrived, and every morning he jogs over from Oakbarrow on his brown mare64, passing here again on his way back about three-quarters of an hour later."
"But even if poor Sir Everard is too ill to leave the house, that seems no reason why his wife should not be seen out of doors now and then."
"She is seen out of doors now and then, sir; I never said she wasn't. The family brought neither horses nor carriages with them, but her ladyship has hired a barouche and pair from the King's Arms' at Oakbarrow, in which she and Miss Roylance take the air on most fine afternoons."
Mr. Brabazon pricked65 up his ears. "Miss---- I didn't quite catch the young lady's name."
"Miss Roylance, sir, who is said to be her ladyship's ward10, or niece, or something of that kind. She arrived at the Keep a couple of days after the family, and has been staying there ever since."
Burgo had never heard Miss Roylance's name before which was scarcely to be wondered at.
"Almost on the heels of Miss Roylance another visitor, a gentleman this time, made his appearance at the Keep," resumed the landlord, "so like her ladyship both in features and expression, only that he must be several years the elder of the two, that one hardly needed to be told he was her brother. His name, sir, did you say? It's a foreign one; they say her ladyship is a foreigner born, though she speaks English as well as you or I. He calls himself Siggnor--Siggnor--hang me if I can remember the name! nor, if I did, am I rightly sure how to pronounce it. Anyhow, he's a fine-looking man, nobody can deny that, but with something in his face that made me say to myself the first time I clapped eyes on him: 'If you owed me a grudge66, you're not the sort I should care to meet face to face in a lonely road, and you with a dagger67 hidden about you.' But of course that was merely a foolish fancy on my part; for no doubt the gentleman's as harmless as my pet canary. He seems fond of taking long walks on the cliffs, or across the moors68, his only companions at such times being two big, fierce dogs of some foreign breed, which, carefully muzzled69, follow him about wherever he goes. At night, however--so I've been told--they are unmuzzled and turned loose in the courtyard."
After this the men smoked awhile in silence.
It seemed clear to Burgo that he had picked up a lot of information which, even if it should ultimately prove of little real value, had at all events served to put him au courant with affairs at the Keep so far as outsiders had any cognisance of them.
"You said just now," he presently remarked aloud, "that Sir Everard Clinton had caused the Keep to be put in thorough repair, but I suppose all that was arranged for some considerable time before his marriage?"
"Oh, yes, sir. It was some time in the spring of last year that he wrote to a firm in Whitehaven specifying70 what he wanted doing to the old house; but it was not till after he was married, that is to say, about three months ago, that he was at the trouble to come and see whether his orders had been carried out in a way to satisfy him. He and his bride--I heard they had only been married two or three weeks before--came down from London, staying a couple of nights at Oakbarrow, and driving over to the Keep during the day. It was then that the Baronet gave orders about the laying out of the grounds and the furnishing and fitting up of the old place, so that it seemed only natural to suppose he intended to make it his home for at least a part of the year."
Here was a point cleared up which had puzzled Burgo more than enough. When Lady Clinton decided71 upon bringing her husband to Garion Keep she had known quite well what she was about. That two days' visit had made her sufficiently72 acquainted with the place to enable her to judge how far it could be utilised for the furtherance of her secret designs.
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1
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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invalids
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| 病人，残疾者( invalid的名词复数 ) | |
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sprained
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| v.&n. 扭伤 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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6
provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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7
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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10
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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scurvily
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| 下流地，粗鄙地，无礼地 | |
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amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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13
fickle
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| adj.(爱情或友谊上)易变的，不坚定的 | |
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14
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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15
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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16
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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18
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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19
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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20
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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21
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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23
profess
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| v.声称，冒称，以...为业，正式接受入教，表明信仰 | |
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24
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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25
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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26
sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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28
illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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29
portfolio
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| n.公事包；文件夹；大臣及部长职位 | |
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30
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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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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boor
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| n.举止粗野的人；乡下佬 | |
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33
elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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34
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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37
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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38
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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40
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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41
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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42
overpass
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| n.天桥，立交桥 | |
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43
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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44
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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45
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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46
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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47
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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48
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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49
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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50
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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51
basked
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的过去式和过去分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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52
owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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53
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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54
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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55
queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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56
destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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57
sketched
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| v.草拟（sketch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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58
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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59
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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60
picturesqueness
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61
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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62
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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64
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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65
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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66
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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67
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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68
moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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69
muzzled
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| 给（狗等）戴口套( muzzle的过去式和过去分词 )； 使缄默，钳制…言论 | |
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70
specifying
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| v.指定( specify的现在分词 )；详述；提出…的条件；使具有特性 | |
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71
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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72
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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