He finally left her with the firm avowal5:
“I am going to win, Ruth. You might as well make up your mind to it.”
She smiled and said “Good-night.”
When she went upstairs a low sob6 came from the nursery and she tipped into the room.
For the past year Lucy would often sit for an hour at a time in reverie, and then lift her little face to her mother with the question:
“Where is Papa?”
Since their return from the railway accident she had never asked again. She only sat now and looked into her mother’s face with dumb pain.
Ruth soothed7 her to sleep, and was standing8 by her window trying to look out into the storm, which was lashing9 great sheets of wet snow against the glass.
The bell in the kitchen rang feebly.
She listened. Some one was fumbling10 at the front door, but the roar of the wind drowned the noise.
The bell rang loud and clear. She sprang to the stairs and went down with quick, nervous step. She fastened the chain-latch, opened the door an inch, and the dim light of the hall flashed on Gordon’s haggard, blood-stained face.
She flung the door open, drew him quickly within, slammed and bolted it.
Throwing her arms around his dripping form, she drew him down and kissed his cold lips.
“Frank, my darling, what is it?” she cried, in breathless amazement12.
“You must help me, Ruth, dear,” he gasped13. “We had a fight. I have killed Overman. If you can hide me for a few days, I can escape. I don’t deserve it—but I know that you love me—”
“Yes, yes,” she sobbed14, kissing his hand, “through life and death, through evil report and good report!”
She put him to bed, washed and dressed his wounds. One of them, an ugly hole over his left lung, kept spouting15 bruised16 blood as he breathed. The dark eyes grew dim as she watched it.
“Oh! Frank, I must have a doctor,” she said, tremulously.
“No, Ruth; I can sleep now. I’ll be better in the morning. A doctor will know me.”
“But I have one I can trust,” she replied, pressing his hand.
He shook his head, closing his eyes.
“You can’t stand up against the wind and sleet17. It’s awful. You can’t walk a block. Don’t try it.”
She watched his mouth twitch18 with pain.
“I will try it,” she answered, firmly. “Lucy will watch with you till I get back.”
When Ruth called and told her, the little hands clasped, a cry burst from her heart, and she kissed her mother impulsively19.
While his daughter sat by the bedside gently stroking his big blue-veined hand, Gordon dozed20 in sleep and Ruth crept out into the wild night on her mission of love.
She was half an hour going and coming four blocks. Three times the wind threw her on the freezing pavements. When she climbed up her own steps her clothing was shrouded21 in an inch of snow and ice, her cheeks were red and swollen22, and her hands were bleeding, but a smile played about her lips. The doctor was coming.
He assured her that the wounds were not fatal, and left instructions for dressing23 them. A few days of rest and all danger would be past.
Through the night, while the wind howled and moaned and roared, the mother and daughter sat by the bedside and smiled into each other’s faces.
The meaning of the tragedy had not yet dawned on Ruth. She only knew that her beloved had come, that she was soothing24 and ministering to him, and her heart was singing its song of triumphant25 love. The long night of the soul was over. The morning had come. The storm without was on another planet.
As they watched he began to talk in fevered half-dream, half-delirium words, phrases and broken sentences that revealed the inner yearnings and conflicts of his soul.
“Silly fool,” he muttered. “Beauty-marvelous—Ruth-dear dark eyes-I-love-her.”
As day approached, Ruth began to dread26 its message. Already she could see the officers at the door.
When day broke she tried to look out of the window, and could only see across the street. The park and the city below were blotted27 out. The whole world seemed one white, swirling28, howling smother29 of snow. The wind came in long gusts30 of shrieking31 fury. She could count its pulse-beats in the lulls32 which were growing shorter. And, child of the sea that she was, she knew that the advancing cyclone33 had not reached its climax34. She breathed a prayer of relief. They could not find him to-day.
The cook did not come. Not a milk-wagon or bread-cart echoed through the street. Not a call of newsboy, whistle of postman, or cry of a schoolboy. The house-girl had not come. Ruth descended35 to the kitchen, made a fire, and cooked breakfasts. With her own hands she was serving her Love, and her heart was singing.
At ten o’clock, she looked out of her window, and the snow was piled to the second story of the houses opposite, which were receiving the full fury of the blast.
The wind was visible. It blew in white, roaring sheets of snow, howling, whistling, screaming, shrieking. Tin roofs, signs, battered36 chimney-tops, blinds, awnings37, brackets, flagpoles, sheet-iron eaves and every odd and end began to crash and rain in the streets and bury themselves in the drifts.
The woman’s heart rode on the wings of the storm. Her beloved was hiding safe beneath its white feathers. She wondered if any one else in all the world were singing for joy with its wild music.
For three hours of the morning, struggling men had braved the storm and fought to reach their places of business. Shouts, curses, calls, laughter, the screams of boys, at first; and then defeat, silence and the roar of the wind.
Street-cars were piled on their sides, and the tracks jammed with debris38 and mountains of snow.
At eleven o’clock, from Manhattan there was no Jersey39 or Brooklyn. The ferries were still. The great dead Bridge hung swaying in the dark sky, a white festoon of ice and snow, like a jeweled garland swung from heaven to soften40 the terrible beauty of a frozen world. The waters below were lashed11 into a white smother of spray. The air cut like a knife with the sand blown from the flying waves of the distant beaches.
Policemen crouched41 and shivered in barred doorways42. The storm had caged every thief, burglar and murderer, as it had sheathed43 the claws of every bear and wolf on the distant mountain-side.
The snow was piled over the tops of the doors of the City Hall and Court House. There was no Mayor, no court, no jury.
The Stock Exchange was closed, the Custom House and Sub-Treasury silent, and every school without teacher or scholar. Every depot44 was placarded, and not a wheel was moving. Not a newspaper found its way to a home, or a single piece of mail arrived in New York, or was sent from it, or delivered within its gates. Every telegraph and telephone office was silent and the fire department was paralysed.
The elevated trains crawled and slipped and stalled and fought on their steel trestles till ten o’clock, and the last wheel stopped and froze.
At three o’clock a Staten Island ferry-boat ventured her nose out of her slip. The wind snapped off both flag-staffs and smokestack, hurled45 them into space, caught her in its mighty46 claws, dragged her helpless across the bay and flung her on the Staten Island shore.
Wherever men could gather they talked in low, helpless and bewildered tones.
The storm signal, set by the Weather Bureau, was torn to shreds47 and the wind-gage hurled into the sky as it registered eighty-two miles an hour.
On the mountains of Colorado and over the plains of Dakota it had begun, a fine, misty48 rain sweeping49 eastward50, throwing out its soft skirmish-line of breezes, drawn51 by the summons of the Storm King far out on the waste of the sea. And then the king had blown his frozen breath on the earth and the mighty city had been blotted from the map and its tumult52 stilled in soft white death.
Ruth drew Gordon to the window against which the sparrows crouched and shivered, that he might watch the storm’s wild pranks53.
“After all,” the wounded man cried, “it has been conquered, the rushing, tumultuous city! Beyond the rim54 of man’s map of the world broods in silence the One to whom its noise is the rustle55 of a leaf and this wind but a sigh of His breath! What can endure?”
His eyes rested on the smiling, lovelit face of Ruth, and he forgot the storm in the deeper wonder of a pure woman’s love.
点击收听单词发音
1 bind | |
vt.捆,包扎;装订;约束;使凝固;vi.变硬 | |
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2 hesitation | |
n.犹豫,踌躇 | |
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3 uncertainty | |
n.易变,靠不住,不确知,不确定的事物 | |
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4 inauguration | |
n.开幕、就职典礼 | |
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5 avowal | |
n.公开宣称,坦白承认 | |
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6 sob | |
n.空间轨道的轰炸机;呜咽,哭泣 | |
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7 soothed | |
v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 );抚慰;使舒服;减轻痛苦 | |
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8 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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9 lashing | |
n.鞭打;痛斥;大量;许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
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10 fumbling | |
n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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11 lashed | |
adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
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12 amazement | |
n.惊奇,惊讶 | |
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13 gasped | |
v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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14 sobbed | |
哭泣,啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 ); 哭诉,呜咽地说 | |
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15 spouting | |
n.水落管系统v.(指液体)喷出( spout的现在分词 );滔滔不绝地讲;喋喋不休地说;喷水 | |
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16 bruised | |
[医]青肿的,瘀紫的 | |
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17 sleet | |
n.雨雪;v.下雨雪,下冰雹 | |
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18 twitch | |
v.急拉,抽动,痉挛,抽搐;n.扯,阵痛,痉挛 | |
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19 impulsively | |
adv.冲动地 | |
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20 dozed | |
v.打盹儿,打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21 shrouded | |
v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 );保密 | |
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22 swollen | |
adj.肿大的,水涨的;v.使变大,肿胀 | |
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23 dressing | |
n.(食物)调料;包扎伤口的用品,敷料 | |
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24 soothing | |
adj.慰藉的;使人宽心的;镇静的 | |
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25 triumphant | |
adj.胜利的,成功的;狂欢的,喜悦的 | |
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26 dread | |
vt.担忧,忧虑;惧怕,不敢;n.担忧,畏惧 | |
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27 blotted | |
涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 ); (用吸墨纸)吸干 | |
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28 swirling | |
v.旋转,打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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29 smother | |
vt./vi.使窒息;抑制;闷死;n.浓烟;窒息 | |
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30 gusts | |
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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31 shrieking | |
v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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32 lulls | |
n.间歇期(lull的复数形式)vt.使镇静,使安静(lull的第三人称单数形式) | |
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33 cyclone | |
n.旋风,龙卷风 | |
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34 climax | |
n.顶点;高潮;v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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35 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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36 battered | |
adj.磨损的;v.连续猛击;磨损 | |
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37 awnings | |
篷帐布 | |
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38 debris | |
n.瓦砾堆,废墟,碎片 | |
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39 jersey | |
n.运动衫 | |
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40 soften | |
v.(使)变柔软;(使)变柔和 | |
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41 crouched | |
v.屈膝,蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42 doorways | |
n.门口,门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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43 sheathed | |
adj.雕塑像下半身包在鞘中的;覆盖的;铠装的;装鞘了的v.将(刀、剑等)插入鞘( sheathe的过去式和过去分词 );包,覆盖 | |
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44 depot | |
n.仓库,储藏处;公共汽车站;火车站 | |
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45 hurled | |
v.猛投,用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 );大声叫骂 | |
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46 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
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47 shreds | |
v.撕碎,切碎( shred的第三人称单数 );用撕毁机撕毁(文件) | |
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48 misty | |
adj.雾蒙蒙的,有雾的 | |
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49 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
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50 eastward | |
adv.向东;adj.向东的;n.东方,东部 | |
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51 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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52 tumult | |
n.喧哗;激动,混乱;吵闹 | |
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53 pranks | |
n.玩笑,恶作剧( prank的名词复数 ) | |
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54 rim | |
n.(圆物的)边,轮缘;边界 | |
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55 rustle | |
v.沙沙作响;偷盗(牛、马等);n.沙沙声声 | |
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