IF he recovered, that was to say. But perhaps he would not recover. Perhaps his life would flicker5 out by degrees in the midst of his delirium6, and he would go to his grave unconfessed and unforgiven! Perhaps even, for his wife’s and daughter’s sake, he would shrink from revealing what Elma felt to be the truth, and would rest content to die, leaving Guy Waring to clear himself at the trial, as best he might, from this hateful accusation7.
It would be unjust. It would be criminal. Yet Sir Gilbert might do it.
Elma had a bad time, therefore, during all those long days, even before Guy returned to England. She knew his life hung by a slender thread, which Sir Gilbert Gildersleeve might cut short at any moment. But her anxiety was as nothing compared to Sir Gilbert’s own. That unhappy man, a moral coward at heart, in spite of all his blustering8, lay writhing9 in his own room now, very ill, and longing10 to be worse, longing to die, as the easiest way out of this impossible difficulty. For his wife’s sake, for Gwendoline’s sake, it was better he should die; and if only he could, he would have left Guy Waring to his fate contentedly11. His anger against Guy burnt so bright now at last that he would have sacrificed him willingly, provided he was not there himself to see and know it. What did the man mean by living on to vex12 him? Over and over again the unhappy judge wished himself dead, and prayed to be taken. But that powerful frame, though severely13 broken by the shock, seemed hardly able to yield up its life merely because its owner was anxious to part with it.
After a fortnight’s severe illness, hovering14 all the time between hope and fear, the doctor came one day, and looked at him hard.
“How is he?” Lady Gildersleeve asked, seeing him hold his breath and consider.
To her great surprise the doctor answered, “Better; against all hope, better.” And indeed Sir Gilbert was once more convalescent. A week or two abroad, it was said, would restore him completely.
Then Elma had another terrible source of doubt. Would the doctors order Sir Gilbert abroad so long that he would be out of England when the trial took place? If so, he might miss many pricks15 of remorse. She must take some active steps to arouse his conscience.
Sir Gilbert, himself, now recovering fast, fought hard, as well he might, for such leave of absence. He was quite unfit, he said, to return to his judicial16 work so soon. Though he had said nothing about it in public before (this was the tenor17 of his talk) he was a man of profound but restrained feelings, and he had felt, he would admit, the absence of Gwendoline’s lover—especially when combined with the tragic18 death of Colonel Kelmscott, the father, and the memory of the unpleasantness that had once subsisted19, through the Colonel’s blind obstinacy20, between the two houses. This sudden news of the young man’s return had given him a nervous shock of which few would have believed him capable. “You wouldn’t think to look at me,” Sir Gilbert said plaintively21, smoothing down his bedclothes with those elephantine hands of his, “I was the sort of man to be knocked down in this way;” and the great specialist from London, gazing at him with a smile, admitted to himself that he certainly would not have thought it.
“Oh, nonsense, my dear sir,” the specialist answered, however, to all his appeals. “This is the merest passing turn, I assure you. I couldn’t conscientiously22 say you’d be unfit for duty by the time the assizes come round again. It’s clear to me, on the contrary, with a physique like yours, you’ll pull yourself together in something less than no time with a week or so at Spa. Before you’re due in England to take up harness again you’ll be walking miles at a stretch over those heathery hills there. Convalescence23, with a man like you, is a rapid process. In a fortnight from to-day, I’ll venture to guarantee, you’ll be in a fit condition to swim the Channel on your back, or to take one of your famous fifty-mile tramps across the bogs24 of Dartmoor. I’ll give you a tonic25 that’ll set your nerves all right at once. You’ll come back from Spa as fresh as a daisy.”
To Spa, accordingly, Sir Gilbert went; and from Spa came trembling letters now and again between Gwendoline and Elma. Gwendoline was very anxious papa should get well soon, she said, for she wanted to be home before the Cape26 steamer arrived. “You know why, Elma.” But Sir Gilbert didn’t return before Guy’s arrival in England, for all that. The papers continued to give bulletins of his health, and to speculate on the probability of his returning in time to do the Western Circuit. Elma remained in a fever of doubt and anxiety. To her, much depended now on the question of Sir Gilbert’s presence or absence. For if he was indeed to try the case, she felt certain to herself, it must work upon his remorse and compel confession27.
Meanwhile, preparations went on in England for Guy’s approaching trial. The magistrates28 committed; the grand jury, of course, found a true bill; all England rang with the strange news that the man Guy Waring, the murderer of Mr. Montague Nevitt some eighteen months before, had returned at last of his own free will, and had given himself up to take his trial. Gildersleeve was to be the judge, they said; or if he were too ill, Atkins. Atkins was as sure as a gun to hang him, people thought—that was Atkins’s way—and, besides, the evidence against the man, though in a sense circumstantial, was so absolutely overwhelming that acquittal seemed impossible.
Five to two was freely offered on Change that they’d hang him.
The case was down for first hearing at the assizes. The night before the trial Elma Clifford, who had hurried to Devonshire with her mother to see and hear all—she couldn’t help it, she said; she felt she MUST be present—Elma Clifford looked at the evening paper with a sickening sense of suspense29 and anxiety. A paragraph caught her eye: “We understand that, after all, Mr. Justice Gildersleeve still finds himself too unwell to return to England for the Western Assizes, and his place will, therefore, most probably be taken by Mr. Justice Atkins. The calendar is a heavy one, and includes the interesting case of Mr. Guy Waring, charged with the wilful30 murder of Montague Nevitt, at Mambury, in Devonshire.”
Elma laid down the paper with a swimming head. Too ill to return. She wasn’t at all surprised at it. It was almost more than human nature could stand, for a man to sit as judge over another to investigate the details of the crime he had himself committed. But the suggestion of his absence ruined her peace of mind. She couldn’t sleep that night. She felt sure now there was no hope left. Guy would almost certainly be convicted of murder.
Next morning she took her seat in court, with her mother and Cyril, as soon as the assize hall was opened to the public. But her cheek was very pale, and her eyes were weary. Places had been assigned them by the courtesy of the authorities, as persons interested in the case; and Elma looked eagerly towards the door in the corner, by which, as the usher31 told her, the judge was to enter. There was a long interval32, and the usual unseemly turmoil33 of laughing and talking went on among the spectators in the well below. Some of them had opera-glasses and stared about them freely. Others quizzed the counsel, the officers, and the witnesses. Then a hush34 came over them, and the door opened. Cyril was merely aware of the usual formalities and of a judicial wig35 making its way, with slow dignity, to the vacant bench. But Elma leaned forward in a tumult36 of feeling. Her face all at once turned scarlet37 with excitement.
“What’s the matter, darling?” her mother asked, in a sympathetic tone, noticing that something had profoundly stirred her.
And Elma answered with bated breath, in almost inarticulate tones, “Don’t you see? Don’t you see, mother? Just look at the judge! It’s himself! It’s Sir Gilbert!”
And so indeed it was. Against all hope, he had come over. At the very last moment a telegram had been handed to the convalescent at Spa:
“Fallen from my horse. A nasty tumble. Sustained severe internal injuries. Impossible to go the Western Circuit, Relieve me if you can. Wire reply,—ATKINS.”
Sir Gilbert, as he received it, had just come in from a long ride across the wild moors38 that stretch away from Spa towards Han, and looked the picture of health, robust39 and fresh and ruddy. He glowed with bodily vigour40; no suspense could kill him. Refusal under such circumstances was clearly impossible. He saw he must go, or resign his post at once. So, with an agitated41 heart, he wired acquiescence42, took the next train to—Brussels and Calais, and caught the Dover boat just in time for acceptance. And now he was there to try Guy Waring for the murder of the man he himself had killed in The Tangle43 at Mambury.
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1
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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2
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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3
repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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transgression
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| n.违背；犯规；罪过 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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blustering
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| adj.狂风大作的，狂暴的v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的现在分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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vex
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| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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14
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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15
pricks
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| 刺痛( prick的名词复数 )； 刺孔； 刺痕； 植物的刺 | |
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16
judicial
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| adj.司法的，法庭的，审判的，明断的，公正的 | |
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tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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19
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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20
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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conscientiously
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| adv.凭良心地；认真地，负责尽职地；老老实实 | |
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23
convalescence
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| n.病后康复期 | |
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24
bogs
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| n.沼泽，泥塘( bog的名词复数 )；厕所v.（使）陷入泥沼， （使）陷入困境( bog的第三人称单数 )；妨碍，阻碍 | |
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25
tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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28
magistrates
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| 地方法官，治安官( magistrate的名词复数 ) | |
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29
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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wilful
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| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
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31
usher
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| n.带位员，招待员；vt.引导，护送；vi.做招待，担任引座员 | |
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32
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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34
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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35
wig
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| n.假发 | |
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36
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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37
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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39
robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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40
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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41
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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42
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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43
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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