"You forget your old enemy, the Secretary."
"Him we used to call Buckshot? I'm not so sure about him. At any rate he has had a downfall. When a man's had a downfall I don't care about lecturing against him. But I don't think it probable that the Speaker will have a downfall, and then I can have my fling."
Rachel had dismissed her brougham, and she had written to Edith Jones. That, no doubt, had been the greatest effort of the morning. We need not give here the body of her letter, but it may be understood that she simply declared at length the nature of the prospect3 before her. There was not a word of Frank Jones in it. She had done that before, and Frank Jones had not responded. She intended to go with her father direct from Liverpool to New York, and her letter was full chiefly of affectionate farewells. To Edith and to Ada and to their father there were a thousand written kisses sent. But there was not a kiss for Frank. There was not a word for Frank, so that any reader of the letter, knowing there was a Frank in the family, would have missed the mention of him, and asked why it was so. It was very, very bitter to poor Rachel this writing to Morony Castle without an allusion4 to the man; but, as she had said, he had been right not to come and live on her wages, and he certainly was right not to say a word as to their loss, when neither of them had wages on which to live. It would have suited in the United States, but she knew that it would not suit here in the old country, and therefore when the letter was written she was sitting worn-out, jaded5 and unhappy in her own bed-room.
The lodging6 was still in Cecil Street, from which spot she and her father had determined7 not to move themselves till after the marriage, and had now resolved to remain there till Rachel should be well enough for her journey to New York. As she sat there the servant, whom in her later richer days she had taken to herself, came to her and announced a visitor. Mr. Moss8 was in the sitting-room9. "Mr. Moss here!" The girl declared that he was in the sitting-room, and in answer to further inquiries10 alleged11 that he was alone. How he had got there the girl could not say. Probably somebody had received a small bribe12. Mr. O'Mahony was not in,—nor was anybody in. Rachel told the girl to be ready when she was ready to accompany her into the parlour, and thus resolving that she would see Mr. Moss she sent him a message to this effect. Then she went to work and perfected her dressing13 very slowly.
When she had completed the work she altered her purpose, and determined that she would see Mr. Moss alone. "You be in the little room close at hand," she said, "and have the door ajar, so that you can come to me if I call. I have no reason to suspect this man, and yet I do suspect him." So saying, she put on her best manners, as it might be those she had learned from the earl when he was to be her husband, and walked into the room. She had often told herself, since the old days, as she had now told the maid, that no real ground for suspicion existed; and yet she knew that she did suspect the man.
Rachel was pale and wan2, and moved very slowly as though with haughty14 gesture. Mr. Moss, no doubt, had reason for knowing that the marriage with Lord Castlewell was at an end. The story had been told about among the theatres. Lord Castlewell did not mean to marry Miss O'Mahony; or else the other and stranger story, Miss O'Mahony did not mean to marry Lord Castlewell. Though few believed that story, it was often told. Theatrical15 people generally told it to one another as a poetical16 tale. The young lady had lost her voice and her beauty. The young lady was looking very old and could never sing again. It was absolutely impossible that in such circumstances she should decline to marry the lord if he were willing. But it was more than probable that he should decline to marry her. The theatrical world had been much astonished by Lord Castlewell's folly17, and now rejoiced generally over his escape. But that he should still want to marry the young lady, and that she should refuse,—that was quite impossible.
But Mr. Moss was somewhat different from the theatrical world in general. He kept himself to himself, and kept his opinion very much in the dark. Madame Socani spoke18 to him often about Rachel, and expressed her loud opinion that Lord Castlewell had never been in earnest. And she was of opinion that Rachel's voice had never had any staying property. Madame Socani had once belittled19 Rachel's voice, and now her triumph was very great. In answer to all this Mr. Moss almost said nothing. Once he did turn round and curse the woman violently, but that was all. Then, when the news had, he thought, been made certain, either in one direction or the other, he came and called on the young lady.
"Well, Mr. Moss," said the young lady, with a smile that was intended to be most contemptible20 and gracious.
"I have been so extremely sorry to hear of your illness, my dear young lady."
Her grandeur21 departed from her all at once. To be called this man's "dear young lady" was insufferable. And grandeur did not come easily to her, though wit and sarcasm22 did.
"Your dear young lady, as you please to call her, has had a bad time of it."
"In memory of the old days I called you so, Miss O'Mahony. You and I used to be thrown much together."
"You and I will never be thrown together again, as my singing is all over."
"It may be so and it may not."
"It is over, at any rate as far as the London theatres go,—as far as you and I go.
"I hope not."
"I tell you it is. I am going back to New York at once, and do not think I shall sing another note as long as I live. I'm going to learn to cook dishes for papa, and we mean to settle down together."
"I hope not," he repeated.
"Very well; but at any rate I must say good-bye to you. I am very weak, and cannot do much in the talking line."
Then she got up and stood before him, as though determined to wish him good-bye. She was in truth weak, but she was minded to stand there till he should have gone.
"My dear Miss O'Mahony, if you would sit down for a moment, I have a proposition to make to you. I think that it is one to which you may be induced to listen."
Then she did sit down, knowing that she would want the strength which rest would give her. The conversation with Mr. Moss might probably be prolonged. He also sat down at a little distance, and held his shining new hat dangling23 between his knees. It was part of her quarrel with him that he had always on a new hat.
"Your marriage with Lord Castlewell, I believe, is off."
"Just so."
"And also your marriage with Mr. Jones?"
"No doubt. All my marriages are off. I don't mean to be married at all. I tell you I'm going home to keep house for my father."
"Keep house for me," said Mr. Moss.
"I would rather keep house for the devil," said Rachel, rising from her chair in wrath24.
"Vy?—vy?"—Mr. Moss was reduced by his eagerness and enthusiasm to his primitive25 mode of speaking—"Vat26 is it that you shall want of a man but that he shall love you truly? I come here ready to marry you, and to take my chance in all things. You say your voice is gone. I am here ready to take the risk. Lord Castlewell will not have you, but I will take you." Now he had risen from his chair, and was standing27 close to her; but she was so surprised at his manner and at his words that she did not answer him at all. "That lord cared for you not at all, but I care. That Mr. Jones, who was to have been your husband, he is gone; but I am not gone. Mr. Jones!" then he threw into his voice a tone of insufferable contempt.
This Rachel could not stand.
"You shall not talk to me about Mr. Jones."
"I talk to you as a man who means vat he is saying. I will marry you to-morrow."
"I would sooner throw myself into that river," she said, pointing down to the Thames.
"You have nothing, if I understand right,—nothing! You have had a run for a few months, and have spent all your money. I have got ￡10,000! You have lost your voice,—I have got mine. You have no theatre,—I have one of my own. I am ready to take a house and furnish it just as you please. You are living here in these poor, wretched lodgings28. Why do I do that?" And he put up both his hands.
"You never will do it," said Rachel.
"Because I love you." Then he threw away his new hat, and fell on his knees before her. "I will risk it all,—because I love you! If your voice comes back,—well! If it do not come back, you will be my wife, and I shall do my best to keep you like a lady."
Here Rachel leant back in her chair, and shut her eyes. In truth she was weak, and was hardly able to carry on the battle after her old fashion. And she had to bethink herself whether the man was making this offer in true faith. If so, there was something noble in it; and, though she still hated the man, as a woman may hate her lover, she would in such case be bound not to insult him more than she could help. A softer feeling than usual came upon her, and she felt that he would be sufficiently29 punished if she could turn him instantly out of the room. She did not now feel disposed "to stick a knife into him," as she had told her father when describing Mr. Moss. But he was at her knees and the whole thing was abominable30.
"Rachel, say the word, and be mine at once."
"You do not understand how I hate you!" she exclaimed.
"Rachel, come to my arms!"
Then he got up, as though to clasp the girl in his embrace. She ran from him, and immediately called the girl whom she had desired to remain in the next room with the door open. But the door was not open, and the girl, though she was in the room, did not answer. Probably the bribe which Mr. Moss had given was to her feeling rather larger than ordinary.
"My darling, my charmer, my own one, come to my arms!"
And he did succeed in getting his hand round on to Rachel's waist, and getting his lips close to her head. She did save her face so that Mr. Moss could not kiss her, but she was knocked into a heap by his violence, and by her own weakness. He still had hold of her as she rose to her feet, and, though he had become acquainted with her weapon before, he certainly did not fear it now. A sick woman, who had just come from her bed, was not likely to have a dagger31 with her. When she got up she was still more in his power. She was astray, scrambling32 here and there, so as to be forced to guard against her own awkwardness. Whatever may be the position in which a woman may find herself, whatever battle she may have to carry on, she has first to protect herself from unseemly attitudes. Before she could do anything she had first to stand upon her legs, and gather her dress around her.
"My own one, my life, come to me!" he exclaimed, again attempting to get her into his embrace.
But he had the knife stuck into him. She had known that he would do it, and now he had done it.
"You fool, you," she said; "it has been your own doing."
He fell on the sofa, and clasped his side, where the weapon had struck him. She rang the bell violently, and, when the girl came, desired her to go at once for a surgeon. Then she fainted.
"I never was such a fool as to faint before," she told Frank afterwards. "I never counted on fainting. If a girl faints, of course she loses all her chance. It was because I was ill. But poor Mr. Moss had the worst of it."
Rachel, from the moment in which she fainted, never saw Mr. Moss any more. Madame Socani came to visit her, and told her father, when she failed to see her, that Mr. Moss had only three days to live. Rachel was again in bed, and could only lift up her hands in despair. But to her father, and to Frank Jones, she spoke with something like good humour.
"I knew it would come," she said to her father. "There was something about his eye which told me that an attempt would be made. He would not believe of a woman that she could have a will of her own. By treating her like an animal he thought he would have his own way. I don't imagine he will treat me in that way again." And then she spoke of him to Frank. "I suppose he does like me?"
"He likes your singing,—at so much a month."
"That's all done now. At any rate, he cannot but know that it is an extreme chance. He must fancy that he really likes me. A man has to be forgiven a good deal for that. But a man must be made to understand that if a woman won't have him, she won't! I think Mr. Moss understands it now."
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1
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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12
bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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13
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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14
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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15
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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16
poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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17
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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18
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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19
belittled
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| 使显得微小，轻视，贬低( belittle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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21
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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23
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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vat
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| n.(=value added tax)增值税，大桶 | |
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27
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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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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29
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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30
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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31
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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32
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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