The woman crept before me; Martin followed with the pistol pointing at my head; the lantern showed me presently a dark wooden stairway. It was rotten and riddled6 with decay; it creaked dismally7 beneath us; the balusters were broken; as I set my hand against the wall to steady me, going up after the slowly climbing p. 76light, I touched grime and cobwebs; the startled rats came squeaking9 and tumbling down the stair. Presently we reached the head of the stair—I have said that the house was two stories only in height; Mother Mag unlocked a door before me, and the cold air blowing in from the glassless window of the room struck on my face. The crone, standing10 aside for me to enter the room, leered and mumbled11 at me as I passed in, urged forward by the prodding12 of Martin’s pistol. I heard the rats scurrying13 over the floor before me. The wind blowing out the sacking before the window, the moonlight illumined the room,—it was big and bare as the room below it, but the rafters were high above me. A narrow wooden bedstead, with a pile of rags upon it, was propped14 against the wall; there was no other furniture save a three-legged stool. An open hearth15 with a rusted17 iron brazier stuck in it was at the farther end of the room. Martin, stepping in, demanded of the woman, “You’re sure the fellow will be safe here?”
He strode to the window, plucked aside the sacking and tried the iron bars; satisfied then stepped over to the hearth, asking, “What of the chimney? Could he climb it?”
p. 77“If he should try,” Mag answered, laughing shrilly19, “he’d only stick there and choke for soot20. More, it’s near blocked with the bricks fallen in it. I heard ’em tumble in a gale21 two year back, and thought the Stone House was all comin’ down about my ears. Ay, but you knows the Stone House well as I do, Martin, and for why are you askin’?”
“For why, Mother Mag,” he snarled22. “You should know for why. Not the devil, your master, could save you from—you know from whom—if he comes, and finds the young dog missing. Ay, and he knows enough to stretch that scraggy neck of yours, well as big Roger Galt’s below. Look to it, Mother Mag,—d’ye look to it!”
She cowered23 and mumbled to herself; he, poking24 his head forward to look up the chimney, brought down a shower of soot upon him, and, cursing foully25, he drew back, and made for the door.
“You’ll lie here for the night,” he said to me. “You’ll be safe and snug26 here for the night. Don’t be trying to break out and get away, for I’ll be within hearing of you the night through. Out of this, Mother Mag.”
“What’s your purpose with me?” I asked, dully. “Why was I brought here?”
p. 78“You’ll know,” he answered, laughing his hateful laugh. “You’ll know. But I’m paid only to catch and cage you, not to answer questions.”
“If it’s only pay,” said I, “a word from me to Mr. Bradbury—”
“Bah, I’d not trust Bradbury living, and Bradbury lying in the road when we left him looked more like a corpse27 than Mother Mag there. Lie down and sleep, you’ll get nothing from me,” and pulling the door to with a crash, he left me.
I ran instantly to the window, and dragged back the sacking; the bars of iron, set there, I took it, for defence in the old days, were bedded firmly in the stone; there was no hope for me to crawl between them. The recurrent light of the cloud-harried moon showed me the nature of my prison; the dust lay thick upon the rotting floor; the oaken panels were riddled by the rats, and dropping in decay from the stone walls; the black, cobwebbed rafters, were high above me. I believed that a trap-door in the ceiling opened beneath the roof; I could hear the rats scurrying over my head. I turned back to the window; and the moon showed me the cobbled courtyard, the high stone wall, the rim8 of the bowl, in which the house lay, rising blue-black beyond; boughs28 p. 79tossing in the wind upon the rim; through the wild crying of the gale overhead, its battering29 on the house, I thought I heard the distant drumming of the sea. Again I tried to wrench30 the bars apart; their red rust16 had run into the stone and mortar31 and set them there only the more firmly; though I tested each bar with the full strength of my arms, none shifted. Could I but force them sufficiently32 apart for me to wriggle33 through, the drop to the ground would be dangerous but not impossible for me. Staring upwards34 then I could see nothing of the roof owing to the thickness of the wall and the depth of the window. No, I was held securely; when I tried to peer up the chimney, I found it blocked as Mother Mag had said; the door of thick oak, though mouldering35, was clamped with iron. I took it that the house had been built years since, maybe in the troublous times of Charles the Martyr—built stoutly36 for protection against marauders in that lonely hollow of the moorlands. On the thick high wall about the courtyard I believed that I could discern rusting37 iron spikes38. And knowing myself held fast in a prison chosen for me by my Uncle Charles—surely by him—and guarded by his rogues39, I must have despaired but for my hope that Mr. Bradbury might have survived the attack upon the coach, and would p. 80not rest till he found and rescued me. I recalled his apprehension40 when we were overtaken by the darkness, and his play with the pistols before our disaster. I remembered seeing him flung out from the door of the coach, and the red discharge of his pistols, as they struck the road. How had the astute41 Mr. Bradbury come thus to underestimate his man, Charles Craike, with consequences disastrous42 to himself and likely to prove disastrous to me?
I was in no mood for lying down on the wretched pallet. I tore off my cravat43 and bound it about my broken head. I was sick and weary, but I feared to sleep, lest they come upon me silently in the dark, and make an end of me. And I knew that he, whose name they would not utter before me, but who was surely Charles Craike, was expected at the house that night; I determined44 to overcome my heavy weariness, and stay awake awaiting his coming. I heard their voices, as I stood by the bed. Roger growling45 yet, and Martin laughing his mocking laugh, while they sat waiting in the room below, whence came that thin smoke rising through the rotting floor. I knelt down then, and with my hands I widened the breach46 in the rotting wood, hoping to hear what passed between these rogues, and what they plotted against me. The light p. 81shone soon more clearly; a chink in the ceiling below was visible; surely I had only to lie down and press my ear against the breach to hear their very words.
I was deterred47 from my purpose by a sudden cry from the gate, and the loud baying of a hound at the rear of the house. Starting up, I stole to the window, and drawing back the sacking, set me to watch who came. I heard the doors below me open and clash; presently I saw the lantern shine through the dark, for the clouds held the moon, though it seemed rapidly to approach to a break between cloud and cloud. Overhead the wind went wailing48; it beat against the house, as though to tumble it to ruins; I stood shivering, for the bitter cold of the night and for my terrors; the strip of sacking bellied49 out like a sail as I clung to it. And to the crying of the wind he came.
The moon broke through the clouds; the wet cobbles of the court below me gleamed like a pool of silver water. He came riding swiftly to the house, leaving Mother Mag to secure the gate; I saw him sitting stiffly upon a great black horse, a black cloak flapping all about him. A gust50 swept his hat from his head, but his hand caught it; his silver-white hair was blown out in disorder51. He looked up, as he drew in before the p. 82door; momentarily I saw a proud and baleful face; cut like a piece of fine white ivory. I saw the very shining of his eyes, as moonlight and the lamplight from the house played fully52 on him; and on the instant, indeed, I understood from that cruel face—like, yet so much unlike, my father’s—none whom this man hated or feared might hope for mercy from him.
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1
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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3
glowering
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| v.怒视( glower的现在分词 ) | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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6
riddled
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| adj.布满的；充斥的；泛滥的v.解谜，出谜题(riddle的过去分词形式) | |
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7
dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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9
squeaking
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的现在分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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10
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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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12
prodding
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| v.刺，戳( prod的现在分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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13
scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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14
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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16
rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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19
shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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20
soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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21
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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22
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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23
cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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24
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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foully
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| ad.卑鄙地 | |
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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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27
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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29
battering
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| n.用坏，损坏v.连续猛击( batter的现在分词 ) | |
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30
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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31
mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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32
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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wriggle
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| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
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34
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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35
mouldering
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| v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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36
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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37
rusting
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| n.生锈v.（使）生锈( rust的现在分词 ) | |
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38
spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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39
rogues
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| n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 )；无赖；调皮捣蛋的人；离群的野兽 | |
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40
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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41
astute
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| adj.机敏的，精明的 | |
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42
disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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43
cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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44
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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45
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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46
breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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47
deterred
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| v.阻止，制止( deter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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49
bellied
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| adj.有腹的，大肚子的 | |
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50
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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51
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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52
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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53
haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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