He was on the point of whistling softly the familiar refrain, when there was a rustle5 in the bushes behind him. A rush, a sudden shock, and a pair of muscular hands were closed round his throat, dragging him backwards6. But Christian stood like a rock. Quick as thought he seized the two wrists, which were small and flat, and wrenched7 them apart. Then, stepping back with one foot in order to obtain surer leverage8, he lifted his assailant from the ground, swung him round, and literally9 let him fly into the moat—with a devout10 hope that it might be Signor Bruno. The man hurtled through the darkness, without a cry or sound, and fell face foremost into the water, five yards from the edge, throwing into the air a shower of spray.
Christian Vellacott was one of those men whose litheness11 is greater than their actual muscular force; but a lithe12 man possesses greater powers of endurance than a powerful fellow whose muscles are more highly developed. The exertion13 of lifting his assailant and swinging him away into the darkness was great, although the man's weight was nothing very formidable, and Christian staggered back a few paces without, however, actually losing his balance. At this moment two men sprang upon him from behind and dragged him to the ground. He felt at once that this was a very different matter. Either of these two could have overpowered him singly. Their thick arms encompassed14 him like the coils of a snake, and there was about their heavy woollen clothing a faint odour of salt water. He knew that they were sailors. Recognising that it was of no avail, he still fought on, as Englishmen do. One of the men had wound a large woollen scarf round his mouth, the other was slowly but very surely succeeding in pinioning15 his arms. Then a third assailant came, and Christian knew by the wet hand (for he used one arm only) that it was the smallest of the three, who had suffered for his temerity16.
“Quick, quick!” this man whispered in French. With his uninjured hand he twisted the scarf tighter and tighter until Christian gasped17 for breath.
Still the Englishman struggled and writhed18 upon the ground, while the hard breathing of the two sailors testified that it was no mean resistance. Suddenly the one-armed man loosened the scarf, but before Christian could recover his breath a handkerchief was pressed over his lips, and a sweet, pungent19 odour filled his nostrils20.
“Three to one,” he gasped, and quite suddenly his head fell forward, while his clutch relaxed.
“He is a brave man,” said the dripping leader of the attack, as he stood upright and touched his damaged shoulder gently and tentatively. “Now quick to the carriage with him. You have not managed this well, my friends, not at all well.”
The speaker raised his cold hand to his forehead, which was wet, less perhaps from past exertion than from the agony he was enduring.
The pale light of a grey dawn was stealing slowly up into the riven sky, lighting23 up the clouds which were flying eastward24 on the shoulder of a boisterous25 wind. The heavy grey sea, heaving, surging, and hissing26, threw itself upwards27 into broken spray, which flew to leeward28 at a sharp angle, blown from the summit of the wave like froth from an over-filled tankard. After a night of squally restlessness, accompanied by a driving rain that tasted brackish29, things had settled down with the dawn into a steady, roaring gale30 of wind. In the growing light sea-gulls rose triumphantly31 with smooth breasts bravely facing the wind.
In the midst of this a dripping vessel32 laboured sorely. The green water rushed from side to side over her slippery, filthy33 deck as she rolled, and carried with it a tangled34 mass of ropes, a wooden bucket, a capstan bar, and—ominous sign—a soaking, limp fur cap. The huge boom, reaching nearly the whole length of the little vessel, swung wildly from side to side as the yawl dipped her bulwarks36 to the receding37 wave. It was certain death for a man to attempt to stand upright upon the sopping38 deck, for the huge spar swung shoulder high. The steersman, crouching39 low by his strong tiller, was doing his best to avoid a clean sweep, but only a small jib and the mizzen were standing40 with straining clews and gleaming seams. Crouching beneath the weather bulwarks, with their feet wedged against the low combing of the hatch, three men were vainly endeavouring to secure the boom, and to disentangle the clogged41 ropes. Two were huge fellows with tawny42, washed-out beards innocent of brush or comb, their faces were half hidden by rough sou'-westers, and they were enveloped43 from head to foot in oilskins from which the water ran in little rills. The third was Christian Vellacott, who looked very wet indeed. The water was dripping from his cuffs44 and running down his face. His black dress-clothes were clinging to him with a soppy hindrance45, while the feet firmly planted against the combing of the hatch were encased in immaculate patent-leather shoes, and the salt water ran off silk socks. It would have been very funny if it were not that Fortune invariably mingles46 her strokes of humour most heedlessly with sadder things. Christian Vellacott was apparently47 unconscious of the humour of the situation. He was working patiently and steadily48, as men must needs work when fighting Nature, and his half-forgotten sea-craft was already coming back. Beneath his steady hands something akin35 to order was slowly being achieved; he was coiling and disentangling the treacherous49 rope, of which the breaking had cast the boom adrift, laying low a good seaman50.
Farther forward upon the hatch lay the limp body of a very big man. His matted head was bare, and the dead, brown face, turned upward to its Maker51, jerked from side to side as the vessel heaved. The stalwart legs were encased in greasy52 sea-boots, deeply wrinkled, and the coils of a huge scarf of faded purple lay upon his broad breast, where they had been dragged down by a hasty hand in order to see more clearly the still features.
At the dead man's side knelt upon the deck a small, spare figure clad in black and wearing his left arm in a sling53. With his right hand he held a crucifix to the blue lips that would never breathe a prayer to the Virgin54 again. The small mouth and refined features of the praying man were strangely out of keeping with his tempestuous55 surroundings. Unmindful, however, of wind and waves alike, he knelt and prayed audibly. Each lurch56 of the vessel threw him forward, so that, in order to save himself from falling, he was obliged to press heavily upon the dead man's throat and breast; but this he heeded57 not. His girlish blue eyes were half closed in an ecstasy58 of religious fervour, and the pale, narrow face wore a light that was not reflected from sea or sky. This was the man who had unhesitatingly attacked Vellacott, had dared to pit his small strength, more of nerve than of muscle, against the young Englishman's hardened sinews. Violence in itself was most abhorrent59 to him; it had no part in his nature; and consequently, by the strange tenets of Ignatius Loyola's disciples60, he was condemned62 to a course of it. Any objectionable duty, such as this removal of Vellacott, was immediately assigned to him in the futile63 endeavour of subjecting the soul to the brain. A true Jesuit must have no nature of his own and no individuality. He is simply a machine, with likes and dislikes, conscience and soul subject to the will of his superior, whose mind is also under the same arbitrary control; and so on to the top. If at the head there were God, it would be well; but man is there, and consequently the whole society is a gigantic mistake. To be a sincere member of it, a man must be a half-witted fool, a religious fanatic64, or a rogue65 for whom no duplicity is too scurrilous66, even though it amount to blasphemy67.
René Drucquer, the man kneeling on the slimy deck, was as nearly a religious fanatic as his soft, sweet nature would allow. With greater bodily strength and attendant greater passions, he would have been a simple monomaniac. In him the passion for self-devotion was singularly strong, and contact with men had cooled it down into an unusually deep sense of duty.
Personally courageous68, his bravery was of a high order, if the spirit of self-devotion called it into existence. In this his courage was more akin to that of women than of men. If duty drove him he would go where the devil drags most people, and René Drucquer was not by any means the first man or woman whose life has been wrecked69, wasted, and utterly70 misled by a blind devotion to duty.
When throwing himself upon Christian Vellacott, no thought of possible danger to his own person had restrained or caused him a moment's hesitation71. His blind faith in the righteousness of his cause was, however, on the wane72. This disciple61 of St. Ignatius might have lived a true and manly73 life three hundred years earlier when his master trod the earth, but the march of intellect had trodden down the “Constitutions” years before René Drucquer came to study them. An ignoramus and a zealot who lived nearly four centuries ago can be no guide or help to men of the present day, and this young priest was overshadowed by the saddest doubt that comes to men on earth—the doubt of his own Creed74.
While Christian Vellacott was assisting the sailors he glanced occasionally towards the kneeling priest, and on the narrow, intelligent face he read a truth that never was forgotten. He saw that René Drucquer was unconscious of his surroundings—unmindful of the fact that he was on board a disabled vessel at the mercy of the wild wind. His whole being was absorbed in prayer: this priest remembered only that the soul of the great, rough, disfigured man was winging its serene75 way to the land where no clouds are. Christian was not an impressionable man—journalism had killed all that—nor, it is to be feared, did he devote much thought to religion; but he recognised goodness when he met it. The young journalist's interest was aroused, and in that trifling76 incident lay the salvation77 of the priest. From that small beginning came the gleam of light that was to illuminate78 gloriously the darkness of a mistaken life.
Chance had capriciously ruled that the hand that had dislocated the Abbé's arm should set it again, and the dead sailor lying on the sticky, tarred hatch-cover had helped. The “patron” of the boat, for he it was whose head had been smashed by the spar, had held the priest's trembling, swollen79 shoulder while Christian's steady hands gave the painful jerk required to slip the joint80 back into its socket81. The great, coarse lips which had trembled a little, with a true Frenchman's sympathy for suffering, were now blue and drawn82; the stout83, tender hands were nerveless.
The priest prayed on, while the men worked near at hand seeking to restore order, and to repair the damages made by sea and wind. They had got over their sullen84, native shyness on finding that Christian could speak French like the Abbé and was almost as good a sailor as themselves. One offered him a rough blue jersey85, while another placed a gold-embroidered Sunday waistcoat at his disposal, with a visible struggle between kindness of heart and economy. The first was accepted, but the waistcoat was given back with a kind laugh and an assurance that the jersey was sufficient.
The Englishman knew too well with whom he was dealing86 to harbour any ill-feeling against the ignorant fishermen or even towards the Abbé Drucquer for the rough treatment he had received. The former were poor, and money never was beaten by a scruple87 in open combat yet. The latter, he rightly presumed, was only obeying a mandate88 he dared not dispute. The authority was to him Divine, the command came from one whom he had sworn to look up to and obey as the earthly representative of his Master.
At length the deck was cleared, and order reigned89 on board, though the mainsail could not be set until the weather moderated.
Then Hoel Grall came up to the young Englishman and said:
“Monsieur, let us carry the 'patron' down below. It is not right for the dead to lie there in this wind and storm.”
“I am willing,” answered Christian, looking towards the spot where the dead man lay.
“Then, perhaps—Monsieur,” began the Breton with some hesitation.
“Yes,” answered Christian encouragingly, “what is it?”
“Perhaps Monsieur will speak to—to the Abbé. It is that we do not like to disturb him in prayer.”
The young Englishman bowed his head with characteristic decision.
“I will do so,” he said gravely. Then he crawled across the deck and touched René Drucquer's shoulder. The priest did not look up until the touch had been repeated.
“Yes,” he murmured; “yes. What do you want?”
“Is it not better to take him below?” he shouted.
Then for the first time did the priest appear to remember that this was not one of the sailors.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, rising from his knees. “You are right; it is better. But I am afraid the men will not assist me. They are afraid of touching91 the dead when they are afloat.”
“I will help you,” said Christian simply, “and that man also, I think, because he proposed it.”
With a motion of the head he indicated Hoel Grall, upon whom the command of the little vessel had now devolved. The man was better educated than his companions, and spoke92 French fluently, but in the Breton character superstition93 is so deeply rooted that generations of education will scarcely eradicate94 it.
The priest looked into the Englishman's face with a gentle wonder in his eyes, which were shadowy with the fervour of his recent devotions. The two men were crouching low upon the deck, grasping the black rail with their left hands; the water washed backwards and forwards around their feet.
It was the first time they had seen each other face to face in open daylight, and their eyes met quietly and searchingly as they swayed from side to side with the heavy lurching of the ship. The Englishman spoke first.
“You must leave it to us,” he said calmly. “You could do nothing in this heavy sea with your one arm!”
The gentle blue eyes were again filled with wonder, and presently the priest's intellectual face relaxed into a shadowy smile, which did not affect his thin red lips.
“You are very good,” he murmured simply.
Christian did not hear this remark. He had turned away to call Grall towards him, and was about to move towards the body lying on the hatch, when the priest called him back.
“Monsieur,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Tell me,” continued René Drucquer quickly, as if in doubt, “are you Christian Vellacott?”
“Of course!”
The priest looked relieved, and at the same time he appeared to be making an effort to restrain himself, as if he had been betrayed into a greater show of feeling than was desirable. When he at length spoke in reply to the Englishman's obvious desire for some explanation of the strange question, his voice was singularly cold, and modulated95 in such a manner as to deprive it of any expression, while his eyes were fixed96 on the deck.
“You are not such as I expected,” he said.
Christian looked down at him with straightforward97 keenness, and he saw the priest's eyelids98 move uneasily beneath his gaze. Mixing with many men as he had done, he had acquired a certain mental sureness of touch, like that of an artist with his brush when he has handled many subjects and many effects. He divined that René Drucquer had been led to expect a violent, head strong man, and he could not restrain a smile as he turned away. Before going, however, he said:
“At present it is a matter of saving the ship, and our lives. My own affairs can wait, but when this gale is over you may rest assured they shall have my attention.”
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收听单词发音
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1
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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2
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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misgiving
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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8
leverage
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| n.力量，影响；杠杆作用，杠杆的力量 | |
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9
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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10
devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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11
litheness
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12
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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encompassed
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| v.围绕( encompass的过去式和过去分词 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
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pinioning
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| v.抓住[捆住]（双臂）( pinion的现在分词 ) | |
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16
temerity
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| n.鲁莽，冒失 | |
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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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writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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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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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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leeward
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| adj.背风的；下风的 | |
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brackish
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| adj.混有盐的；咸的 | |
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gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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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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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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bulwarks
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| n.堡垒( bulwark的名词复数 )；保障；支柱；舷墙 | |
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receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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sopping
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| adj. 浑身湿透的 动词sop的现在分词形式 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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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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clogged
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| （使）阻碍( clog的过去式和过去分词 )； 淤滞 | |
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tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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45
hindrance
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| n.妨碍，障碍 | |
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mingles
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| 混合，混入( mingle的第三人称单数 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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47
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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48
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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49
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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50
seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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51
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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53
sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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54
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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55
tempestuous
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| adj.狂暴的 | |
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56
lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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57
heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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abhorrent
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| adj.可恶的，可恨的，讨厌的 | |
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disciples
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| n.信徒( disciple的名词复数 )；门徒；耶稣的信徒；（尤指）耶稣十二门徒之一 | |
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disciple
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| n.信徒，门徒，追随者 | |
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62
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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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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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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scurrilous
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| adj.下流的，恶意诽谤的 | |
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blasphemy
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| n.亵渎，渎神 | |
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68
courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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70
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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wane
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| n.衰微，亏缺，变弱；v.变小，亏缺，呈下弦 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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illuminate
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| vt.照亮，照明；用灯光装饰；说明，阐释 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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socket
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| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
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82
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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scruple
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| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
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mandate
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| n.托管地；命令，指示 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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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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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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eradicate
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| v.根除，消灭，杜绝 | |
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modulated
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| 已调整[制]的，被调的 | |
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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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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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