But Will glanced at the name in profound dismay. It was an awkward moment. Heaven knew what might come of it. As he gazed and paused, all that Franz had said to him at the Criterion bar a year before recurred2 to his mind vividly3. He seized Hausberger’s arm with a nervous clutch, and drew him a little aside. “Take care of this man Lindner,” he said in a warning whisper. “He doesn’t love you. He is not to be trusted. If I were you, I wouldn’t see him alone. He owes you a grudge4. Ask him up here, and talk with him before us all and the ladies.”
“Did you know he was in London?” Andreas inquired, scarcely flinching5.
“Yes; I met him by accident in Bond Street a year ago. I’ve been to hear him sing at the music hall where he works, and he came with Mr Wood and myself to the Duke of Edinburgh’s to see Sweet Maisie, one of my pieces. But he was breathing forth6 fire and slaughter7 against you, even then, for leaving him in the lurch8 that time at Meran. To tell you the truth, he’s a dangerous man in a dangerous mood; I can’t answer for what may happen if you go down alone to him.”
“Let me go down and fetch him,” Florian suggested, blandly9. “The job would just suit me. I’m warranted to disarm10 the most truculent11 fool in Christendom with a smile and a word or two.”
To this middle course Andreas consented somewhat doubtfully. He knew Franz’s temper and his Tyrolese impetuosity; but, as a Tyroler himself, hot-hearted at core for all his apparent phlegm, he didn’t feel inclined to parley13 through an ambassador with a pretentious15 Robbler. However, a scene on the first night would be bad business. That touched a tender point. So he gave way ungraciously. Florian departed, full of importance at his post of envoy16, and returned in a minute or two with the Robbler’s ultimatum17. “He’s been drinking, I fancy,” he said, “and he’s very wild and excited; Montepulciano in his eye, Lacrima Christi in his gait, Falernian in his utterance18. But he’ll come up if you like; only I thought, Rue19, as it’s your box, I’d better ask you first whether you’d care to see him.”
“He isn’t drunk, is he?” Rue asked, shrinking back. “We couldn’t have a drunken man shown up into the box here.”
“Not more drunk than a gentleman should be,” Florian answered, airily. “He can walk and talk, and I think he can behave himself. But he’s a good deal flushed, and somewhat flustered20, and he expresses a burning desire for Herr Hausberger’s heart-blood, in a guttural bass14, with quite unbecoming ferocity.”
Rue shrank away with a frightened face. “Oh, don’t bring him up here!” she cried. “Please, Florian, don’t bring him up here. I’m so afraid of tipsy men; and you don’t really think he wants to murder Herr Hausberger?”
“Well, not exactly to murder him, perhaps,” Florian replied, with a tolerant and expansive smile; “that would be positively21 vulgar; but to fight him, no doubt; and, if possible, to put an end to him. The duel22 in one form or another, you see, is a most polite institution. We don’t call it murder in good Society. Lindner feels himself aggrieved23?—?there’s a lady in the case?—?” and he gave an expressive24 side-glance over his shoulder towards Linnet, “so he desires to bury his knife to the hilt in the gentleman’s body whom, rightly or wrongly, he conceives to have acted ill towards him. Nothing vulgar in that you’ll allow: a most natural sentiment. Only, as Herr Hausberger’s friends in this little affair, we must strive our best to see that all things are done, as the apostle advises, decently and in order.”
Linnet drew back with a convulsive gasp25. Was this bloodshed they contemplated26, and were talking of so calmly? Will laid his hand on Rue’s arm. Even in the heat of the moment, Linnet noticed that simple action, and, she knew not why, her heart sank within her.
“If I were you, Rue,” Will put in very hurriedly, “I’d let this man come in; drunk or sober, I’d see him. It’s better he should speak with Herr Hausberger here than anywhere else. Try to sink your own feelings and put up with him for a minute or two. If you don’t, I’m afraid I can’t answer for the consequences.”
He spoke27 very seriously. Rue drew back, still shrinking. Her face was pale but her voice was firm. “Very well, Will,” she answered, without another word of demur28. “I hate a tipsy man; but if you wish it, I’ll see him here.”
Linnet noticed the lingering stress of her voice on the you, and the obvious familiarity that subsisted29 between them; and she thought to herself once more, what did it matter to her??—?she was Andreas Hausberger’s wife now. Blessed Madonna, protect her!
Florian disappeared a second time, buoyant as usual, and came back in a minute?—?bringing Franz Lindner with him. The Seer had left the box some moments earlier; Linnet and Rue stood forward towards the door, as if to break the attack, with Andreas in the background, between Will and the manager. Florian flung the door open with his customary flourish. “Mr Franz Lindner!” he said, introducing him with a wave of his dainty small hand, “whose charming performance on the zither we had the pleasure of hearing, you will recollect30, Rue, with Signora Casalmonte, some years ago at Innsbruck.”
The Robbler stepped into the box, erect31, haughty32, defiant33. His handsome face was flushed and flown with drink; but his manner was alert, self-respecting, angry. He glared about him with fierce eyes. His left hand, held to his bosom34, just defined between finger and thumb the vague shape of the bowie in his breast coat pocket; his right was disengaged with a tremulous quiver, as if in readiness to spring at Andreas Hausberger and throttle35 him.
With unexpected presence of mind, Rue extended her pretty gloved hand towards the Robbler, cordially, as if she fancied he had come on the most ordinary errand. “We’re so glad to see you, Mr Lindner,” she cried, in a natural voice, and with apparent frankness?—?though that was a fearful feminine fib; “I remember so well your delightful36 jodels! You were a member of Herr Hausberger’s company then, I recollect. How charmingly his wife has been singing here this evening!”
The Robbler gazed about him, a little disconcerted at so different a welcome from the one he had expected. However, as things stood, the acquired instincts of civilisation37 compelled him to hold in check for a moment the more deeply ingrained impulses of his mountain nature. Besides, Rue’s words appealed at once to his personal vanity. To think that this beautiful and exquisitely-dressed lady, with the diamonds on her white neck, and the dainty pale gloves on her tapering39 fingers, should receive him in her box like a gentleman and an equal! How could he jump at his enemy’s throat then and there before her eyes? How remain insensible to so much grace, so much tact40, so much elegance41? Moreover, he was taken aback by the number of persons in the box, the unexpected brilliancy, the imposing42 evening dress, Linnet’s stately costume, Rue’s dazzling jewellery. He had come up there, meaning to rush at his antagonist43 the very moment he saw him, and plunge44 a knife into his heart, like a true Tyrolese Robbler, even here in London. Instead of that, he paused irresolute45, took the gloved hand in his, bent46 over it with the native dignity and courtesy of his race, and faltered47, in broken English, some inarticulate words of genuine gratification that Mrs Palmer should deign48 to remember so kindly49 his poor performances on the zither at Innsbruck.
Then Will came forward in turn, seized the Robbler’s right hand, wrang it hard and long?—?just to occupy the time, and prevent possible mischief50?—?and poured forth hurried remarks, one after another, hastily, about Linnet’s first appearance, and the success of her singing. It was a friendly meeting. The manager chimed in, with Florian in his most ecstatic mood for chorus. Franz Lindner’s blood boiled; dazed and startled as he was, more than ever now he felt in his heart of how great a prize Andreas Hausberger had defrauded51 him. By trickery and stealth that sordid52 wretch53 had defrauded him. The ladies at the London Pavilion, indeed! Why, Linnet on those boards?—?Linnet in that dress?—?Linnet in her transformed and transfigured beauty?—?she was worth the whole troupe54 of them! Yet what could he do? Linnet held out her frank hand; Franz grasped it fervently55. Her beauty surprised him. She was no longer, he saw well, the mere56 musical peasant girl; she had risen to the situation; she was now a great artist, a great lady, a queen of the theatre.
Primitive57 natures are quick. Their emotions are few, but strong and overpowering. Mood succeeds mood with something of the rapidity and successive effacement58 we see in children. Franz Lindner had entered that box, full of rage and anger, thirsting only for blood, eager to wreak59 his vengeance60 on the man who had offended him. He had no thought of love for Linnet then; only a fierce, keen sense of deadly resentment61 towards Andreas. Now, in a moment, as Linnet let her soft hand lie passive in his, like an old friend recovered, another set of feelings rushed over him irresistibly62. His heart leaped up into his mouth at her pressure. Why, Linnet was beautiful; Linnet was exquisite38; Linnet was a prize worth any man’s winning. If he stabbed Andreas then and there before his wife’s very eyes, he might glut63 his revenge, to be sure?—?but what would that avail him? Why go and be hanged for killing64 Linnet’s husband, and leave Linnet herself for some other man to woo, and win, and be happy with? Herr Will, there, would thank him, no doubt, for that chance; for he could plainly see by his eyes Herr Will was still deeply in love with Linnet. No, no,?—?hot heart; down, down for the present! Keep your hands off Andreas’s throat; wait for sweeter vengeance! To win away his wife from him, to steal her by force, to seduce65 her by soft words, to wile66 her by blandishment?—?that were a better revenge in the end than to stick a knife in him now?—?though to stick a knife, too, is very good requital67! Sooner or later, Franz meant to have Andreas Hausberger’s blood. But not to be hanged for it. He would rather live on . . . to kill Hausberger first, and enjoy his wife afterwards.
All this, quick as lightning, not thought but felt in an indivisible flash of time, darted68 fast through Franz Lindner’s seething69 brain, at touch of Linnet’s fingers. She spoke a few words to him of friendly reminiscence. Then Andreas, stepping forward, held out his hand in turn. It was a critical moment. Linnet’s heart stood still. Franz lifted his arm, half hesitating, towards his breast coat pocket. Should he stab him?—?or wring70 his hand? The surroundings settled it. It’s a thousand times harder to plunge your knife into your man before the eyes of ladies and dramatic critics, in a box of a London theatre, than among the quarrelsome hinds71 on a Tyrolese hillside. Surlily and grudgingly72, Franz lifted his right?—?extended it with an effort, and shook hands with his enemy. Rue and Linnet looked on in an agony of suspense73. Once the grasp was over, every member of the party drew a deep breath involuntarily. The tension was relieved. Conversation ran on as if nothing had happened. The whole little episode occupied no more than two fleeting74 minutes. At its end they were all chatting with apparent unconcern about old times at Meran and old friends at St Valentin.
Franz was sobered by the conflict of emotion within him. The manager, with great tact and presence of mind, invited him promptly75 to join them at supper. Franz accepted with a good grace, uncertain yet how he stood with them, and became before long almost boisterously76 merry. He kept himself within due bounds, indeed, before the faces of the ladies, and drank his share of champagne77 with surprising moderation. But he talked unceasingly, for the most part to Linnet, Rue, and Florian; very little to Will; hardly at all to Andreas Hausberger. They sat late and long. They had all much to say, and Will, in particular, wished to notice with care the nature of the relations between Linnet and Andreas. At last they rose to go. Will saw Franz sedulously78 to the door of the supper-rooms. He wanted to make sure the man was really gone. Franz paused for a minute on the threshold of the steps, and gazed out with vague eyes on the slippery Strand79. “Zat’s a fine woman,” he said, slowly; “a very fine woman. Andreas Hausberger took her from me. You saved his life zis night. But she’s mine by ze right, and some day I shall claim her!”
Will took Rue home; she dismissed Florian early. In the brougham, as they drove, for some time neither spoke of the subject that was nearest both their hearts; an indescribable shyness possessed80 and silenced them. At last, Will said, tentatively, in a very timid voice, striking off at a tangent, “She’s more beautiful than ever, and she sang to-night divinely. These years have done much for her, Rue. She returns to us still the same; and yet, oh, how altered!”
“Yes; she is beautiful,” Rue answered, in a very low tone?—?“more beautiful than ever. And such a perfect lady, too?—?so charming and so graceful81, one can’t help loving her. I don’t wonder at you men, Will, when even we women feel it.”
They drove on for another minute or two, each musing82 silently. Then Will spoke again. “Do you think,” he inquired, in a very anxious voice, “she’s . . . she’s happy with her husband?”
“No!” Rue answered, decisively. It was the short, sharp, extremely explosive “No” that closes a subject.
“I thought not, myself,” Will went on, with still greater constraint83. “I was afraid she wasn’t. But . . . I thought . . . I might be prejudiced.”
Rue lifted her eyes, and met his, by the gloom of the gas-lamps. “She’s very unhappy with him,” she burst out all at once with a woman’s instinct. “She does not love him, and has never loved him. How could she?—?that block of ice?—?that lump of marble. She tries to do everything that’s right and good towards him, because he’s her husband, and she ought to behave so to him. She’s a good woman, I’m sure?—?a pure, good woman; her soul’s in her art, and she tries not to think too much of her unhappiness. But she loves somebody else best?—?and she knows she loves him. I saw it in her eyes, and I couldn’t be deceived about it.”
“You think so?” Will cried, eagerly. Her words were balm to him. Rue drew a deep sigh. “I don’t think it; I know it,” she answered, sadly.
“O Rue, how good you are,” Will murmured, with a feeling very much like remorse84. “What other woman on earth but yourself would tell me so?”
Rue sighed a second time. “I saw it in her eyes,” she went on, looking hard at him still, “when first she noticed you; I saw it still more when that dreadful man Lindner came up into the box, and she waited trembling, to see what was going to happen. I watched her face; it was full of terror. But it wasn’t the loving terror of a woman who thinks the husband she adores is just about to be attacked; it was the mere physical terror of a shrinking soul at the sight of a crime, a quarrel, a scuffle. You saved that man’s life, Will; whether you know it or not, you saved it; for the other was a quarrelsome, revengeful fellow, who came there fully12 prepared, as Florian told us, to stab his rival. You saved his life; and when I looked at yourself, and Linnet standing85 by, I thought at the time what a bad turn you had done?——”
“For her?” Will suggested, in a very low tone.
“Oh no,” Rue answered aloud; “not for her alone, but for you as well?—?for you and her?—?for both of you.”
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收听单词发音
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1
sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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2
recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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3
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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5
flinching
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的现在分词 ) | |
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6
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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10
disarm
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| v.解除武装，回复平常的编制，缓和 | |
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truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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13
parley
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| n.谈判 | |
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14
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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15
pretentious
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| adj.自命不凡的，自负的，炫耀的 | |
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16
envoy
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| n.使节，使者，代表，公使 | |
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17
ultimatum
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| n.最后通牒 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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20
flustered
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| adj.慌张的；激动不安的v.使慌乱，使不安( fluster的过去式和过去分词) | |
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21
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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23
aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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27
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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28
demur
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| v．表示异议，反对 | |
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29
subsisted
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| v.（靠很少的钱或食物）维持生活，生存下去( subsist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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31
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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32
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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35
throttle
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| n.节流阀，节气阀，喉咙；v.扼喉咙，使窒息，压 | |
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36
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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38
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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39
tapering
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| adj.尖端细的 | |
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40
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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41
elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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43
antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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44
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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45
irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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46
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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47
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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48
deign
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| v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
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49
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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50
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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51
defrauded
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| v.诈取，骗取( defraud的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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53
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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54
troupe
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| n.剧团，戏班；杂技团；马戏团 | |
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55
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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56
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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57
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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58
effacement
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| n.抹消，抹杀 | |
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59
wreak
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| v.发泄；报复 | |
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60
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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61
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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62
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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63
glut
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| n.存货过多，供过于求；v.狼吞虎咽 | |
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64
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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65
seduce
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| vt.勾引，诱奸，诱惑，引诱 | |
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66
wile
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| v.诡计，引诱；n.欺骗，欺诈 | |
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67
requital
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| n.酬劳；报复 | |
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68
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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69
seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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70
wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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71
hinds
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| n.（常指动物腿）后面的( hind的名词复数 )；在后的；（通常与can或could连用）唠叨不停；滔滔不绝 | |
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72
grudgingly
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73
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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74
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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75
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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76
boisterously
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| adv.喧闹地，吵闹地 | |
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77
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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78
sedulously
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| ad.孜孜不倦地 | |
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79
strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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80
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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81
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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82
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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83
constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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84
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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85
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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