She had known the truth from the first and had reckoned on his strength and manliness1 to draw him to her in this hour.
"I'll show her!" he said in fierce rebellion. "I'll give her the money she needs—yes—but her shadow shall never again darken my life. I won't permit this shame to smirch the soul of my boy—I'll die first!"
He moved to the West side of town, permitted no one to learn his new address, sent her money from the general postoffice, and directed all his mail to a lock box he had secured.
He destroyed thus every trace by which she might discover his residence if she dared to venture into New York.
To his surprise it was more than three weeks before he received a reply from her. And the second letter made an appeal well-nigh resistless. The message was brief, but she had instinctively3 chosen the words that found him. How well she knew that side of his nature! He resented it with rage and tried to read all sorts of sinister4 guile5 into the lines. But as he scanned them a second time reason rejected all save the simplest and most obvious meaning the words implied.[Pg 183]
The letter was evidently written in a cramped6 position. She had missed the lines many times and some words were so scrawled7 they were scarcely legible. But he read them all at last:
"I have been very sick since your letter came with the money. I tried to get up too soon. I have suffered awfully8. You see, I didn't know how much I had gone through. Please don't be angry with me for what neither you nor I can help now. I want to see you just once, and then I won't trouble you any more. I am very weak to-day, but I'll soon be strong again.
"Cleo."
It made him furious, this subtle appeal to his keen sense of fatherhood. She knew how tenderly he loved his boy. She knew that while such obligations rest lightly on some men, the tie that bound him to his son was the biggest thing in his life. She had been near him long enough to learn the secret things of his inner life. She was using them now to break down the barriers of character and self-respect. He could see it plainly. He hated her for it and yet the appeal went straight to his heart.
Two things in this letter he couldn't get away from:
"You see, I didn't know how much I had gone through."
He kept reading this over. And the next line:
"Please don't be angry with me for what neither you nor I can help now."
The appeal was so human, so simple, so obviously sincere, no man with a soul could ignore it. How could she help it now? She too had been swept into the tragic9 situation by the blind forces of Nature. After all, had[Pg 184] it not been inevitable10? Did not such a position of daily intimate physical contact—morning, noon and night—mean just this? Could she have helped it? Were they not both the victims, in a sense, of the follies11 of centuries? Had he the right to be angry with her?
His reason answered, no. And again came the deeper question—can any man ever escape the consequences of his deeds? Deeds are of the infinite and eternal and the smallest one disturbs the universe. It slowly began to dawn on him that nothing he could ever do or say could change one elemental fact. She was a mother—a fact bigger than all the forms and ceremonies of the ages. It was just this thing in his history that made his sin against the wife so poignant12, both to her and to his imagination. A child was a child, and he had no right to sneak13 and play a coward in such an hour.
Step by step the woman's simple cry forced its way into the soul and slowly but surely the rags were stripped from pride, until he began to see himself naked and without sham2.
The one thing that finally cut deepest was the single sentence: "You see, I didn't know how much I had gone through——"
He read it again with a feeling of awe15. No matter what the shade of her olive cheek or the length of her curly hair, she was a mother with all that big word means in the language of men. Say what he might—of her art in leading him on, of her final offering herself in a hundred subtle ways in their daily life in his home—he was still responsible. He had accepted the challenge at last.
And he knew what it meant to any woman under the best conditions, with a mother's face hovering16 near and[Pg 185] the man she loved by her side. He saw again the scene of his boy's birth. And then another picture—a lonely girl in a strange city without a friend—a cot in the whitewashed17 ward14 of a city's hospital—a pair of startled eyes looking in vain for a loved, familiar face as her trembling feet stepped falteringly18 down into the valley that lies between Life and Death!
A pitiful thing, this hour of suffering and of waiting for the unknown.
His heart went out to her in sympathy, and he answered her letter with a promise to come. But on the day he was to start for Baltimore mammy was stricken with a cold which developed into pneumonia19. Unaccustomed to the rigors20 of a Northern climate, she had been careless and the result from the first was doubtful. To leave her was, of course, impossible.
He sent for a doctor and two nurses and no care or expense was spared, but in spite of every effort she died. It was four weeks before he returned from the funeral in the South.
He reached Baltimore in a blinding snowstorm the week preceding Christmas. Cleo had left the hospital three weeks previous to his arrival, and for some unexplained reason had spent a week or ten days in Norfolk and returned in time to meet him.
He failed to find her at the address she had given him, but was directed to an obscure hotel in another quarter of the city.
He was surprised and puzzled at the attitude assumed at this meeting. She was nervous, irritable21, insolent22 and apparently23 anxious for a fight.
"Well, why do you stare at me like that?" she asked angrily.[Pg 186]
"Was I staring?" he said with an effort at self-control.
"After all I've been through the past weeks," she said bitterly, "I didn't care whether I lived or died."
"I meant to have come at once as I wrote you. But mammy's illness and death made it impossible to get here sooner."
"One excuse is as good as another," she retorted with a contemptuous toss of her head.
Norton looked at her in blank amazement24. It was inconceivable that this was the same woman who wrote him the simple, sincere appeal a few weeks ago. It was possible, of course, that suffering had embittered25 her mind and reduced her temporarily to the nervous condition in which she appeared.
"Why do you keep staring at me?" she asked again, with insolent ill-temper.
He was so enraged26 at her evident attempt to bully27 him into an attitude of abject28 sympathy, he shot her a look of rage, seized his hat and without a word started for the door.
With a cry of despair she was by his side and grasped his arm:
"Please—please don't!"
"Change your tactics, then, if you have anything to say to me."
She flushed, stammered29, looked at him queerly and then smiled:
"Yes, I will, major—please don't be mad at me! You see, I'm just a little crazy. I've been through so much since I came here I didn't know what I was saying to you. I'm awfully sorry—let me take your hat——"[Pg 187]
She took his hat, laid it on the table and led him to a seat.
"Please sit down. I'm so glad you've come, and I thank you for coming. I'm just as humble30 and grateful as I can be. You must forget how foolish I've acted. I've been so miserable31 and scared and lonely, it's a wonder I haven't jumped into the bay. And I just thought at last that you were never coming."
Norton looked at her with new astonishment32. Not because there was anything strange in what she said—he had expected some such words on his arrival, but because they didn't ring true. She seemed to be lying. There was an expression of furtive33 cunning in her greenish eyes that was uncanny. He couldn't make her out. In spite of the effort to be friendly she was repulsive34.
"Well, I'm here," he said calmly. "You have something to say—what is it?"
"Of course," she answered smilingly. "I have a lot to say. I want you to tell me what to do."
"Anything you like," he answered bluntly.
"It's nothing to you?"
"I'll give you an allowance."
"Is that all?"
"What else do you expect?"
"You don't want to see her?"
"No."
"I thought you were coming for that?"
"I've changed my mind. And the less we see of each other the better. I'll go with you to-morrow and verify the records——"
Cleo laughed:
"You don't think I'm joking about her birth?"[Pg 188]
"No. But I'm not going to take your word for it."
"All right, I'll go with you to-morrow."
He started again to the door. He felt that he must leave—that he was smothering35. Something about the girl's manner got on his nerves. Not only was there no sort of sympathy or attraction between them but the longer he stayed in her presence the more he felt the desire to choke her. He began to look into her eyes with growing suspicion and hate, and behind their smiling plausibility36 he felt the power of a secret deadly hostility37.
"You don't want me to go back home with the child, do you?" Cleo asked with a furtive glance.
"No, I do not," he replied, emphatically.
"I'm going back—but I'll give her up and let you educate her in a convent on one condition——"
"What?" he asked sharply.
"That you let me nurse the boy again and give me the protection and shelter of your home——"
"Never!" he cried.
"Please be reasonable. It will be best for you and best for me and best for her that her life shall never be blackened by the stain of my blood. I've thought it all out. It's the only way——"
"No," he replied sternly. "I'll educate her in my own way, if placed in my hands without condition. But you shall never enter my house again——"
"Is it fair," she pleaded, "to take everything from me and turn me out in the world alone? I'll give your boy all the love of a hungry heart. He loves me."
"He has forgotten your existence——"
"You know that he hasn't!"
"I know that he has," Norton persisted with rising[Pg 189] wrath38. "It's a waste of breath for you to talk to me about this thing"—he turned on her fiercely:
"Why do you wish to go back there? To grin and hint the truth to your friends?"
"You know that I'd cut my tongue out sooner than betray you. I'd like to scream it from every housetop—yes. But I won't. I won't, because you smile or frown means too much to me. I'm asking this that I may live and work for you and be your slave without money and without price——"
"I understand," he broke in bitterly, "because you think that thus you can again drag me down—well, you can't do it! The power you once had is gone—gone forever—never to return——"
"Then why be afraid? No one there knows except my mother. You hate me. All right. I can do you no harm. I'll never hate you. I'll just be happy to serve you, to love your boy and help you rear him to be a fine man. Let me go back with you and open the old house again——"
He lifted his hand with a gesture of angry impatience39:
"Enough of this now—you go your way in life and I go mine."
"I'll not give her up except on my conditions——"
"Then you can keep her and go where you please. If you return home you'll not find me. I'll put the ocean between us if necessary——"
He stepped quickly to the door and she knew it was needless to argue further.
"Come to my hotel to-morrow morning at ten o'clock and I'll make you a settlement through a lawyer."[Pg 190]
"I'll be there," she answered in a low tone, "but please, major, before you go let me ask you not to remember the foolish things I said and the way I acted when you came. I'm so sorry—forgive me. I made you terribly mad. I don't know what was the matter with me. Remember I'm just a foolish girl here without a friend——"
She stopped, her voice failing:
"Oh, my God, I'm so lonely, I don't want to live! You don't know what it means for me just to be near you—please let me go home with you!"
There was something genuine in this last cry. It reached his heart in spite of anger. He hesitated and spoke40 in kindly41 tones:
"Good night—I'll see you in the morning."
This plea of loneliness and homesickness found the weak spot in his armor. It was so clearly the echo of his own feelings. The old home, with its beautiful and sad memories, his people and his work had begun to pull resistlessly. Her suggestion was a subtle and dangerous one, doubly seductive because it was so safe a solution of difficulties. There was not the shadow of a doubt that her deeper purpose was to ultimately dominate his personal life. He was sure of his strength, yet he knew that the wise thing to do was to refuse to listen.
At ten o'clock next morning she came. He had called a lawyer and drawn42 up a settlement that only waited her signature.
She had not said she would sign—she had not positively43 refused. She was looking at him with dumb pleading eyes.
"He had heard the call of his people." "He had heard the call of his people."
[Pg 191]
Without a moment's warning the boy pushed his way into the room. Norton sprang before Cleo and shouted angrily to the nurse:
"I told you not to let him come into this room——"
"But you see I des tum!" the boy answered with a laugh as he darted44 to the corner.
The thing he dreaded45 had happened. In a moment the child saw Cleo. There was just an instant's hesitation46 and the father smiled that he had forgotten her. But the hesitation was only the moment of dazed surprise. With a scream of joy he crossed the room and sprang into her arms:
"Oh, Cleo—Cleo—my Cleo! You've tum—you've tum! Look, Daddy! She's tum—my Cleo!"
He hugged her, he kissed her, he patted her flushed cheeks, he ran his little fingers through her tangled47 hair, drew himself up and kissed her again.
She snatched him to her heart and burst into uncontrollable sobs48, raised her eyes streaming with tears to Norton and said softly:
"Let me go home with you!"
He looked at her, hesitated and then slowly tore the legal document to pieces, threw it in the fire and nodded his consent.
But this time his act was not surrender. He had heard the call of his people and his country. It was the first step toward the execution of a new life purpose that had suddenly flamed in the depths of his darkened soul as he watched the picture of the olive cheek of the woman against the clear white of his child's.
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1
manliness
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| 刚毅 | |
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sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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guile
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| n.诈术 | |
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cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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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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15
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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16
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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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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falteringly
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| 口吃地，支吾地 | |
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pneumonia
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| n.肺炎 | |
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rigors
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| 严格( rigor的名词复数 )； 严酷； 严密； （由惊吓或中毒等导致的身体）僵直 | |
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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embittered
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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28
abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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smothering
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的现在分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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plausibility
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| n. 似有道理, 能言善辩 | |
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37
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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38
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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39
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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40
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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41
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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42
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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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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44
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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45
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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46
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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47
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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48
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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