In the early part of the next week, Will proposed one day they should mount the hills behind St Valentin, in search of a rare fern he was anxious to secure before the snows of winter. Andreas Hausberger, nodding his head, had heard of it before. It was a well-known rarity; all botanists9 who came to the Zillerthal, he said, were sure to go in search of it. “But I’m not a botanist,” Will burst out deprecatingly, for to admit that fell impeachment10 is to number yourself outright11 in the dismal12 roll of scientific Dryasdusts; “I only want the plants because I love them.”
“That’s all right,” Andreas answered, in his accustomed phrase. “You want the plant, anyway. That’s the chief thing, ain’t it? Wal, there’s only one place anywhere about St Valentin that it ever grows, and that’s the Tuxerloch; without somebody to guide you there you’d never find it.”
“Oh, I won’t have a guide,” Will responded, hastily. “I hate to be guided. It’s too ignominious13. If I can’t find my own way about low mountains like these, in the forest region, I’d prefer to lose it; and I certainly won’t pay a man to show me where the fern is.”
“Certainly not,” the wirth answered, with true Tyrolese thrift14. “I didn’t mean that. Why waste your money on one of the regular guides, who charge you five florins for eating half your lunch for you? But Linnet knows the way as well as any trained guide of them. It’s not a hard road; she’ll go along with you and show you it.”
“Oh, dear no,” Will replied, with a little hurried embarrassment15, for he felt it would be awkward to be thrown all day into the society of a young girl in so equivocal a position. “I’m sure we can find the way all right ourselves. There are woodcutters on the hills we can ask about the path; and if it comes to that, I really don’t mind whether I find it or not?—?it’s only by way of goal for a day’s expedition.”
Andreas Hausberger, however, was an imperious soul. “Linnet shall go,” he said, shortly, without making more words about it. “She has nothing else to do. It’s bad for her to be cooped up in the house too much. A long walk on the hills will be no end of good for her. That’s what I always say; when young women come down from the mountains in winter, they do themselves harm by changing their mode of life all at once too suddenly, and living in close rooms without half the exercise they used to take on the alp with their milking and churning.”
So, whether they would or not, the two young men were compelled in the end to put up as best they might with Linnet’s guidance and company. No great hardship either, Will thought to himself, as Linnet, bare-headed, but in her Sunday best, led the way up the green slopes behind the village inn, with the bounding gait of a holiday alp-girl. As to Florian, his soul was in the seventh heavens. To see that Oread’s light foot trip gracefully16 over the lawns was to him pure joy?—?a stray breath of Hellas. What Hellas was like, to be sure?—?the arid17 Hellas of reality?—?with its dusty dry hills and its basking18 rocks, Florian had not in his own soul the very faintest conception. But still, the Hellenic ideal was none the less near and dear to him. From stray scraps19 of Theocritus and his inner consciousness he had constructed for himself an Arcadia of quite Alpine20 greenness, and had peopled it with lithe21 maidens22 of uncircumscribed affections. So, whenever he wanted to give anything in heaven or earth the highest praise in his power, he observed with an innocent smile that it was utterly24 Hellenic.
Linnet led them on, talking unaffectedly as she went, by long ridge-like spurs, up vague trails through the woods, and over spongy pastures. As elsewhere on their walks, Florian noted25 here and there little whitewashed26 shrines28 at every turn of the road, and endless rude crucifixes where ghastly white limbs seemed to writhe29 and struggle in realistic torture. Of a sudden, by one of these, Linnet dropped on her knees?—?all at once without a word of warning; she dropped as if mechanically, her lips moving meanwhile in muttered prayer. Florian gazed at her curiously30; Will stood by expectant, in a reverent31 and mutely sympathetic attitude. For some minutes the girl knelt there, murmuring low to herself. As she rose from her knees, she turned gravely to Will. “Here my father has died,” she said, with solemn slowness in her broken English. “He has slipped from that rock. The fall has killed him. Will you say, for his soul’s repose32, before you go, a Vaterunser?”
She looked up at him pleadingly, as if she thought the prayers of so great a gentleman must carry weight of their own in Our Lady’s councils. With infinite gentleness, Will bowed his head in acquiescence33, and, after a moment’s hesitation34, not to hurt her feelings, dropped on his knees himself and bent35 his neck in silent prayer before the tawdry little oratory36. It was one of those rough shrines, painted by unskilled fingers, where naked souls in rude flames of purgatory37 plead for aid with clasped hands and outstretched arms to placidly38 unheeding blue-robed Madonnas. Underneath39, an inscription40, with N’s turned the wrong way, and capitals mixed with smaller letters, informed the passer-by that, “Here, on the 20th of August 188-, the virtuous41 guide and experienced woodcutter, Josef Telser of St Valentin, perished by a fall from a slippery rock during a dangerous thunderstorm. The pious42 wanderer is hereby implored43 to say three Paternosters, of his charitable good-will, to redeem44 a tortured soul from the fires of purgatory.”
Will knelt there for a minute or two, muttering the Paternosters out of pure consideration for Linnet’s sensitive feelings. When he rose from his knees again, he saw the girl herself had moved off a little way to pick a few bright ragworts and Michaelmas daisies that still lingered on these bare heights, for a bouquet45 to lay before the shrine27 of Our Lady. Like all her countrywomen, she was profoundly religious?—?or, if you choose to put it so, profoundly superstitious46. (’Tis the point of view alone that makes all the difference.) Florian, a little apart, with his hand on his cheek and his head on one side, eyed the oratory sentimentally47. “How sweet it is,” he said, after a pause, with an expansive smile, “to see this poor child, with her childlike faith, thus throwing herself on her knees in filial submission48 before her father’s cenotaph! How delightful49 is the sentiment that prompts such respect for the memory of the dead! How eloquent50 must be the words of her simple colophon!” Florian was fond of colophons; he didn’t know what they were, but he always thought them so very Hellenic!
Will’s face was graver. With one finger he pointed51 to the uncompromising flames of that most material purgatory. “I’m afraid,” he said, seriously, “to her, poor child, this act of worship envisages52 itself in a very different fashion. She prays to hasten the escape of her father’s soul from what she takes to be a place of very genuine torture.”
Florian looked closer. As yet, he had never observed the subsidiary episode of the spirits in their throes of fiery53 torment54, which forms a component55 part of all these wayside oratories56. He inspected the rude design with distant philosophical57 interest. “This is quaint58,” he said, “most quaint. I admire its art immensely. The point about it all that particularly appeals to me is the charming superiority of Our Lady’s calm soul to the essentially59 modern vice60 of pity. There she sits on her throne, unswerved and unswerving, not even deigning61 to contemplate62 with that marked squint63 in her eye the extremely unpleasant and uncomfortable position of her petitioners64 beneath her. I admire it very much. I find it quite Etruscan.”
“To you and me?—?yes, quaint?—?nothing more than that,” Will responded, soberly; “but to Linnet, it’s all real?—?fire, flames, and torments65; she believes what she sees there.”
As he spoke66, the girl came back, with her nosegay in her hand, and, tying it round with a thread from a little roll in her pocket, laid it reverently67 on the shrine with a very low obeisance68. “You see,” she said to Will, speaking in English once more, for Andreas Hausberger wished her to take advantage of this unusual opportunity for acquiring the language, “my poor father is killed in the middle of his sins; he falls from the rock and is taken up dead; there is no priest close by; he has not confessed; he has not had absolution; he has no viaticum; no oil to anoint him. That makes it that he must go straight down to purgatory.” And she clasped her hands as she spoke in very genuine sympathy.
“Then all these shrines,” Florian said, looking up a little surprised, “are they all of them where somebody has been killed by accident?”
“The most of them,” Linnet answered, as who should say of course; “so many of our people are that way killed, you see; it is thunderstorms, or snow-slides, or trees that fall, or floods on rivers, things that I cannot say, for I know not the names how to speak them in English. And, as no priest is by, so shall they go to purgatory. For that, we make shrines to release them from their torments.”
They had gone on their way by this time, and reached a corner of the path where it turned abruptly69 in zig-zags round a great rocky precipice70. Just as they drew abreast71 of it, and were passing the corner, a young man came suddenly on them from the opposite direction. He was a fiery young man, dressed in the native Tyrolese costume of real life; his hand held a rifle; his conical hat was gaily72 decked behind, like most of his countrymen’s, with a blackcock’s feather. The stranger’s mien73 was bold?—?nay74, saucy75 and defiant76. He looked every inch a typical Alpine j?ger. As he confronted them he paused, and glared for a moment at Linnet. Next instant he raised his hat with half-sarcastic politeness; then, in a very rapid voice, he said something to their companion in a patois77 so pronounced that Will Deverill himself, familiar as he was with land and people, could make nothing out of it. But Linnet, unabashed, answered him back once or twice in the same uncouth78 dialect. Their colloquy79 grew warm. The stranger seemed angry; he waved his hand toward the Englishmen, and appeared, as Will judged, to be asking their pretty guide what she did in such company. As for Linnet, her answers were evidently of the sort which turneth away wrath80, though on this hot-headed young man they were ineffectually bestowed81. He stamped his foot once or twice; then he turned to Will Deverill.
“Who sent you out with the sennerin?” he asked, haughtily82, in good German.
Will answered him back with calm but cold politeness. “Herr Hausberger, our wirth,” he said, “asked the Fr?ulein to accompany us, as she knew the place where a certain fern I wished to find on the hills was growing.”
“I know where it grows myself,” the j?ger replied, with a defiant air. “Let her go back to the inn; it is far for her to walk. I can show you the way to it.”
“Certainly not,” Will retorted, in most decided83 tones. “The Fr?ulein has been good enough to accompany us thus far; I can’t allow her now to go back alone to the village.”
“She’s used to it,” the man said, gruffly, with half a sneer84, his fingers twitching85.
“That may be,” Will retorted, with quiet self-possession; “but I’m not used to allowing her to do so.”
For a minute the stranger put one sturdy foot forward, held his head haughtily, with his hat on one side, and half lifted his fist, as if inclined to rush forthwith upon the offending Englishman, and settle the question between them then and there by open violence. But Linnet, biting her lip and knitting her brow in suspense86, rushed in to separate them. “Take care what you do,” she cried hurriedly in English to Will. “Don’t let him strike. Stand away of him. He’s a Robbler!”
“A what?” Will replied, half smiling at her eagerness, for he was not at all alarmed himself by her truculent87 fellow-countryman.
“A Robbler,” Linnet repeated, looking up at him pleadingly. “You know not what that is? Then will I tell you quickly. The feather in his hat, it is turned the wrong way. When a Tyrolese does so, he wills thereby88 to say he will make himself a Robbler. Therefore, if any one speaks angry to him, it is known he will strike back. It is?—?I cannot say what it means in English, but it invites to fight; it is the sign of a challenge.”
“Well, Robbler or no Robbler, I’m not afraid of him,” Will answered, with quiet determination; “and if he will fight, why, of course, he must take what he gets for it.”
“Perhaps,” Linnet said, simply, gazing back at him, much surprised, “in your own country you are also a Robbler.”
The na?veté of her remark made Will laugh in spite of himself. That laugh saved bloodshed. The Tyrolese, on his part, seeing the absurdity89 of the situation all at once, broke into a smile himself; and, with that unlucky smile, his sole claim to Robblerhood vanished incontinently. Linnet saw her advantage. In a moment, she had poured into the young man’s ear a perfect flood of explanatory eloquence90 in their native dialect. Gradually the Robbler’s defiant attitude relaxed; his face grew calmer; he accepted her account. Then he turned to Will with a more mollified manner: “You may go on,” he said, graciously, with a regal nod of his head; “I allow the sennerin to continue her way with you.”
As for Will, he felt half inclined, at first, to resent the lordly air of the Robbler’s concession91. On second thoughts, however, for Linnet’s sake, in his ignorance of who the young man might be, and the nature of his claim upon her, he judged it better to avoid any quarrel of any sort with a native of the valley. So he raised his hat courteously92, and let the stranger depart, with a very bad grace, along the road to the village.
“What did you tell him?” he asked of Linnet, as the Robbler went his way, singing defiantly93 to himself, down the grassy94 zig-zag.
“Oh, I told him,” Linnet answered, with a little flush of excitement, “Andreas Hausberger had sent me that you might teach me English.”
“Is he your brother?” Will asked, not that he thought that likely, but because it was less pointed than if he had asked her outright, “Is this young man your lover?”
Linnet shook her head. “Ah, no,” she answered, with a very decided air; “he’s nothing at all to me?—?not even my friend. I do not so much as care for him. He’s only Franz Lindner. But then, he was jealous because he see that I walk with you. He has no right of that; I am not anything to him; yet still he must be jealous if somebody speak to me. It is because he is a Robbler, and must do like that. A Robbler shall always fight if any man shall walk or talk with his maiden23. Though I am not his maiden, but he would have me to be it. So will he fight with anyone who shall walk or talk with me. But when I tell him Andreas Hausberger send me that I may learn English, then he go away quietly. For Franz Lindner, or any other Robbler, will not fight with a stranger so well as with a Tyroler.”
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1
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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3
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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harangues
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| n.高谈阔论的长篇演讲( harangue的名词复数 )v.高谈阔论( harangue的第三人称单数 ) | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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credible
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| adj.可信任的，可靠的 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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predilection
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| n.偏好 | |
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botanists
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| n.植物学家，研究植物的人( botanist的名词复数 ) | |
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impeachment
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| n.弹劾；控告；怀疑 | |
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outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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ignominious
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| adj.可鄙的，不光彩的，耻辱的 | |
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thrift
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| adj.节约，节俭；n.节俭，节约 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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basking
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| 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 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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alpine
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| adj.高山的；n.高山植物 | |
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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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shrines
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| 圣地，圣坛，神圣场所( shrine的名词复数 ) | |
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writhe
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| vt.挣扎，痛苦地扭曲；vi.扭曲，翻腾，受苦；n.翻腾，苦恼 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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reverent
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| adj.恭敬的，虔诚的 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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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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oratory
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| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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purgatory
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| n.炼狱；苦难；adj.净化的，清洗的 | |
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placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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redeem
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| v.买回，赎回，挽回，恢复，履行（诺言等） | |
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bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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sentimentally
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| adv.富情感地 | |
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submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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49
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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50
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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51
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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52
envisages
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| 想像，设想( envisage的第三人称单数 ) | |
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53
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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54
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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component
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| n.组成部分，成分，元件；adj.组成的，合成的 | |
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oratories
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| n.演讲术( oratory的名词复数 )；（用长词或正式词语的）词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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philosophical
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| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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58
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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59
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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60
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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61
deigning
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的现在分词 ) | |
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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63
squint
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| v. 使变斜视眼, 斜视, 眯眼看, 偏移, 窥视; n. 斜视, 斜孔小窗; adj. 斜视的, 斜的 | |
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64
petitioners
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| n.请求人，请愿人( petitioner的名词复数 )；离婚案原告 | |
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65
torments
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| （肉体或精神上的）折磨，痛苦( torment的名词复数 )； 造成痛苦的事物[人] | |
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66
spoke
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| 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 | |
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67
reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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68
obeisance
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| n.鞠躬，敬礼 | |
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69
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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70
precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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71
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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72
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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73
mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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74
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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75
saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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76
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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77
patois
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| n.方言；混合语 | |
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78
uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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79
colloquy
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| n.谈话，自由讨论 | |
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80
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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81
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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82
haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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83
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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84
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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85
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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86
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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87
truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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88
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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89
absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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90
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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91
concession
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| n.让步，妥协；特许(权) | |
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92
courteously
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| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
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93
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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94
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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