Her unconventional ways had ceased to excite comment in Independence since her extraordinary conduct in refusing to wear mourning for her father. There could be no graver breach2 of the traditions of good society than this in the eyes of her neighbours, and so long as she remained within the pale of respectability any other feat3 she might perform would be of minor4 interest.
She rode rapidly, her mind in a tumult5 of excitement over the daring act of revenge she meant to wreak6 to-night on the man who had wronged her beyond the power of human forgiveness. Singlehanded and alone she had mastered his will and brought him to her feet. Single-handed and alone she had decided7 the question of his life and death. And this afternoon she wished to ride alone to the place appointed for his judgment8.
In spite of her resolution to mete9 out the sternest justice to John Graham, the memory of his passionate10 words of love, the deep tenderness with which he had hovered11 about her, and the utter trust he had shown during their last meeting, began to torment12 her.
Had they met under fair conditions she could have loved him. She began to see it clearly now. His sincerity13, his fiery14 emotions, his romantic extravagances, the old-fashioned chivalry15 with which he worshipped her were very sweet. The complete and generous surrender he had made, placing his life absolutely in her hands, began to glow with poetry in her imagination.
He had always possessed16 the faculty17 of drawing out the best that was in her. Somehow she had never been able to hate him as she ought in his presence. There was something contagious18 in the spirit of love with which his whole personality seemed to radiate. She had begun to feel at home with him as with no other man she had ever met.
“Oh, dear, I’m sorry!” she sighed, as she entered the deep woods. Unconsciously she reined19 her horse to a stand, and was startled from her reverie by a tear rolling down her cheek and falling on her glove. “What a fool I am!” she cried in anger. “I’d better turn back now. I’m a chicken-hearted coward when put to the test. I’m scared out of my senses at the size of the task I’ve undertaken—that’s what’s the matter—I, who have boasted of my strength and shouted my triumph over a strong man’s conquest.”
Another tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away with an angry stroke.
“Suppose I find too late that I’m in love with him!” she exclaimed, helplessly.
Her horse moved on without her urging or recognising it, so absorbed had she become in the battle raging within her heart.
“What is love?” she mused20 aloud. “I wonder how it feels to really love?—Love him?—nonsense—I hate the very ground he walks on—the self-centered, proud, bigoted21, narrow-minded fanatic22! I’ve sworn to avenge23 my father’s death. I’ll do it. Let him come to-night to the judgment hall of his own making. I’ll prove myself a woman, and do my country a service when I hand him over to justice.”
She touched her horse with the whip, and he bounded forward in a swift gallop24, and in a few minutes she passed into the old lawn and saw the flash of the white ghost-like columns among the dark firs.
Again she found herself recalling the silly extravagances of his talk as they entered the grounds two days before.
“What was it he said about angels?” she mused with a smile. “Yes, I remember. Somehow I seem to remember them all!—‘When I stand by your side, in every silent space I hear the beating of the wings of angels’—and I liked it! what a fool a woman is! and tried to convince myself that I didn’t like it by adding, ‘the wings of the angel of death,’ only because I felt my hate grow weak under a silly compliment—well, I’m done with his maudlin25 love-making. It’s judgment day.”
She dismounted, tied her horse, and wandered down the little crooked26 pathway to the famous spring at the foot of the hill where many a lover had lingered in days long past and poured out the old story that remains27 eternal in its youth. She wondered at the mad resolution of her mother, taken perhaps on this very spot twenty-five years ago, that had led her to break the bonds of blood, throw to the winds every tie of tenderness that bound her to the earth, and brave the scorn of her own proud world, all for the sake of the son of a poor white man—because she loved him!
Why did people do such idiotic28 things? Why should a woman thus sink her soul and body in the fortunes of a man? She couldn’t understand it.
“Surely this is the miracle of miracles of human life!” she murmured. “I wonder if John Graham was crazy when he said that night on the lawn: ‘If you should send me from your presence now, I’d laugh at Death, for I have tasted Life!’ Why do I keep thinking of what he has said?—Perhaps because he may die to-night!”
She sprang to her feet, clasped her hands nervously29 and began to cry—softly at first, and then with utter abandonment, sinking again to the ground and burying her face in her arm.
“Oh, dear! oh, dear! I’m lonely and heartsick and afraid!” she sobbed31. “I wish I had a friend to share my secret, advise and help me—yes, such a friend as he would be!—he’d know what I ought to do—and I know what he’d say, too—that I’m proud and cruel and selfish—that I’m doing a hideous32, unnatural33 thing—well I’m not! the impulse for vengeance34 is God’s first law—I know it because I feel it, deep, instinctive35, resistless!—and I’m going to do it! I’m going to do it!—I hate him! I hate him!”
She rose and returned to the ruins, and sat down on the steps between the white columns. The sun was sinking through an ocean of filmy clouds, reflecting in rapid changes every colour ever dreamed in the soul of the artist. She watched in deep breathless reverence36, until the sense of loneliness again overpowered her and she sprang up with restless energy exclaiming:
“I meant to explore that room before he comes—I must do it.”
She descended37 the steps and stopped before the dark entrance. It hadn’t seemed so dark the other day with him. It was earlier in the day of course. Why had she paused? The question angered her. She was afraid to go through the long dark corridor alone—that was the disgusting truth.
She turned back to await his coming. What a foolish contradiction. She would wait for the protection of the wretch38 she meant to deliver to-night to—death!
She returned with quick angry strides to the columns, and leaned against one of their friendly sides. In the gathering39 twilight40 they seemed human and sheltering in their protection. She wished he would come. A dozen times she looked toward the gate and thought she heard the beat of his horse’s hoof41 in the distance.
Dusk settled into darkness and still he did not come. The moon rose and touched the tall pillars above with a magic glow of mellow42 light, and a whip-poor-will struck the first note of his thrilling song beneath the bush at her feet.
With a shudder43, she moved to the outer column and waited with increasing impatience44 and alarm. The wildest fears began to fill her fancy. Why had she dared this mad task alone? For some unaccountable reason she had not reckoned on being alone.
Was it possible that she had been so illogical, so utterly45 bereft46 of reason that the idea of his companionship had filled her imagination? Surely she had not been such a fool! She knew Steve Hoyle would accompany those men, beyond a doubt, and join her after the affair was over, but she had not given Steve a thought. He had been but a cog in the wheel of things that had swiftly moved to the tragic47 crisis which she now faced for the first time. She looked at her watch in the bright moonlight and it was half past eight. What if he failed to come! Would she be glad or angry? The tumult of feeling had reached a point of intensity48 that paralysed her powers of reasoning—she didn’t know. A single sense remained, the consciousness of chilling loneliness.
With a throb49 of joy she caught at last the quick hoof-beat of John’s horse sweeping50 through the gateway51 in a furious gallop.
He leaped to the ground, and hurried to her side.
“I’m awfully52 sorry!” he cried, seizing both her hands with eager tenderness. “A most unexpected thing occurred which delayed me thirty minutes. I’ll explain to you later. Come, I’m hungry to see your dear face in the light of these lanterns in that gloomy old room below. I’ve a thousand things to tell you. Life will be too short a time in which to tell it all. I hope you’ve been very lonely and hungry for me to come?”
“I must confess, my heart began to fail me once or twice,” she said seriously, while he felt her hand trembling.
He stooped to light a lantern, and she caught his arm.
“Wait, not yet—the moon is shining brightly—we don’t need it.”
“But you’ll stumble on those dark stairs in the corridor.”
“No matter, wait,” she urged nervously; “I’ll hold your arm—you know the way.”
“Yes, I know the way,” he laughed. “Come then, your slightest whim53 is law.”
He drew her little hand through his arm and picking his steps carefully, led her down through the tangled54 debris55 and along the dark corridor without once stumbling, the timid figure clinging close to his side.
“You see a revolutionist soon learns to find his way in the dark without a light,” he said, as they emerged into the kitchen whose wide space was lighted by the moonbeams streaming through the windows.
He released her arm, placed the lantern and a bundle he carried on the top of the range, and said with a laugh:
“Now, shall the actor make up for his part? I’ve the costume all ready. This is the palace of the queen to-night. I have been commanded to appear before her!”
She gave no answer.
He bent56 and kissed her hand and found it cold and trembling violently.
“You feel the chill of this old basement,” he said with tender solicitude57. “I’ll light the lantern at once.”
She caught his hand.
“No! No!—I—prefer it like this—the moonlight is enough.”
“All right,” he answered gaily58. “Shall I don my robes as ruler of the Invisible Empire to please the fancy of Your Majesty59?”
He opened the bundle and shook out the long white ulster-like disguise with its double cross of scarlet60 and gold.
“Put it back—I’m not ready yet!” she gasped61.
“You’ll laugh and chat a while with the audience before the curtain goes up on the drama!—good! I’ve a lot to say. Sit here in the window while I tell you something.”
He led her to the low casement62 of the window and seated her by his side.
She sprang to her feet instantly, grasping at her heart, her breath coming in quick gasps63:
“What’s that!—Listen!”
He took her hand soothingly64:
“Why, it’s only our horses neighing to each other.”
“You’re sure?” she whispered.
“Of course.”
“I thought it was something else,” she faltered65. “My poor little darling! This has been too much for your nerves—you should have allowed me to come with you.”
“Yes, I’m afraid I did make a mistake!” she said in low strained tones.
“Well, there’s nothing to be afraid of now—is there?” he said assuringly.
“No! there’s nothing to be afraid of now—is there?” she laughed hysterically66, and suddenly stopped with a suppressed scream.
“My darling!” he exclaimed.
“Listen! Listen! My God, what’s that?”
“It’s nothing dear.”
“It is! Listen! I hear them coming!”
“Impossible, my child, we’re all here!” he laughed. “How could you guess there was anyone coming except you and me?”
“Oh, dear, you don’t understand, and I can’t explain!” she went on frantically67. She looked at her watch and couldn’t see.
“Quick, strike a match and see what time it is—we can get away!” she whispered.
He struck the match and saw her eyes gleaming with a strange madness. Stella blew the match out, seized his arm and drew him from the window.
“Not there—by the window—over here in this corner.”
“He struck another match and she masked its light from the window, staring with wide-set eyes at the hands of her watch.
“It’s half past nine. It’s too late!” she said hopelessly.
“Come, come, my darling, remember that I am by your side—nothing can harm you except the tongue of gossip, and you’ve shown your contempt for that. Sit down here again in the moonlight and let me tell you the story of my love.”
He led her back to the window and she sank tremblingly by his side.
“I’ve never had the chance to tell you,” he began, with low passionate tenderness, “what a wonderful thing your love has been in my life. The night I met you, I went to your house drunk, with murder in my heart, determined68 to use the lawless power I wielded69 to crush your father. I was about to leave with a threat to kill him on my lips. It was no idle threat then. I had entered the vault70, pushed open its massive door, stepped inside and saw the way was open.”
“The night you came first, you entered alone the secret way?” she interrupted.
“Yes, I meant to use it if necessary.”
“But you never did! You never did!” she whispered.
“How could I, dearest! I saw your face that night for the first time, heard the low music of your voice, touched your hand, and I was a new man! Love, not hate, has ruled me since. I disbanded the Klan immediately and ordered my men never again to use its power.”
“Disbanded the Klan!” she repeated with choking surprise.
“Yes, and a dastard71 reorganised it as a local order to further his low ambitions. I’ve done my best to hold in check their crimes and follies72. I warned your father of danger the night those fools came. In a madness of love, fear and jealous rage I came down to the house, sat there in dumb pain and watched your beautiful form whirl past the lighted window until I could endure it no longer.” Stella strangled a sob30.
“I’ve reproached myself a hundred times I didn’t prevent that masquerade by force. I might have done it. I had some faithful old soldiers from the foothills in town that day whom I had used to capture the scoundrels who committed the outrage73 on old Nicaroshinski.”
“Hush74! hush! before I scream!” Stella cried in anguish75, placing her hand on his lips.
Suddenly a white figure stood before the window and his whistle rang through the still night.
Stella sprang to her feet gasping76, with horror:
“My God! they’ve come: I must save you! Hide! Hide and give me your revolver—they shall not take you—quick—quick—hide!”
“But, my dear, there’s not the slightest danger. No man who wears that uniform will lift his hand against me—see, I’m going to answer his call with my own signal.”
He lifted the whistle to his lips and she snatched it from his grasp.
“Don’t! Don’t for God’s sake, don’t! you don’t understand—Oh!—John—darling—I love you! I love you!”
She threw herself into his arms and kissed him, passionately77 sobbing78.
“I’ve tried to hate you, dear, but I couldn’t—I couldn’t—I know now I’ve loved you always! I must save you, God help me!”
“Well, sir?” called a voice without.
“It’s all right! Come in, boys!” he answered before Stella could stop him. She huddled79 in his arms paralysed for the moment with terror.
“You must not!—they will kill you, dear!” she moaned in agony.
“Nonsense, child, the boys have only a little surprise for us.”
Their feet were already echoing in the corridor and their voices could be heard in whispers and low laughter.
“Hide! please, for the love of God!” she gasped. With sudden fierce strength she pressed him into the shadows and stood panting before him, while the silent ghost-like figures ranged themselves solemnly around the room.
“Stella, my dear, you must not suffer like this—there is no danger, these are all my men.”
“Your men!—your men!” she cried, bewildered.
“Yes, I brought them here to-night in full costume to make a little play complete for the fancy of a queen!”
“My darling,” she sobbed, sinking in his arms.
“We unexpectedly met some ugly customers from the hills we had seen once before. A little pitched battle delayed us thirty minutes, but none of our boys were hurt.”
“Kiss me!” she whispered.
A distant whistle rang through the woods and the picket80 outside answered.
“What’s that?” Stella gasped.
“He blew the signal, ‘message for the Chief’; he’s from town, I’m afraid,” John answered.
A horse’s hoof echoed on the flagstones before the columns, and in a moment the picket rushed to the window.
“Bad news, sir!”
“What is it?” John asked quietly:
“A regiment81 of United States cavalry82 slipped into town just after dark.”
“I’ve been looking for it,” John broke in. “Well?”
“A squadron has surrounded Mrs. Wilson’s boarding house to wait for you.”
“Merciful God! what have I done!” Stella sobbed inaudibly.
John touched her hand soothingly at the sound of her sob, bent low and whispered tenderly:
“It’s all right—dearest—you love me!”
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收听单词发音
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1
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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5
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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wreak
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| v.发泄；报复 | |
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7
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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8
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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9
mete
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| v.分配；给予 | |
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10
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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11
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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12
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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13
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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15
chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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16
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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17
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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contagious
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| adj.传染性的，有感染力的 | |
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19
reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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bigoted
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| adj.固执己见的，心胸狭窄的 | |
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fanatic
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| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
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avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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26
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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30
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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32
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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35
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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37
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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38
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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39
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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40
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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41
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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42
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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43
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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44
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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45
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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46
bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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47
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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48
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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49
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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50
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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51
gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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52
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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53
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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54
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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55
debris
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| n.瓦砾堆，废墟，碎片 | |
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56
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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57
solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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58
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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59
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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60
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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61
gasped
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| 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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casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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63
gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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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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66
hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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wielded
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| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的过去式和过去分词 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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dastard
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| n.卑怯之人，懦夫；adj.怯懦的，畏缩的 | |
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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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73
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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76
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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