Septimius turned along the road towards the village, meaning to mingle7 with the crowd on the green, and there learn all he could of the rumors8 that vaguely9 filled the air, and doubtless were shaping themselves into various forms of fiction.
As he passed the small dwelling10 of Rose Garfield, she stood on the doorstep, and bounded forth a little way to meet him, looking frightened, excited, and yet half pleased, but strangely pretty; prettier than ever before, owing to some hasty adornment11 or other, that she would never have succeeded so well in giving to herself if she had had more time to do it in.
"Septimius–Mr. Felton," cried she, asking information of him who, of all men in the neighborhood, knew nothing of the intelligence afloat; but it showed a certain importance that Septimius had with her. "Do you really think the redcoats are coming? Ah, what shall we do? What shall we do? But you are not going to the village, too, and leave us all alone?"
"I know not whether they are coming or no, Rose," said Septimius, stopping to admire the young girl's fresh beauty, which made a double stroke upon him by her excitement, and, moreover, made her twice as free with him as ever she had been before; for there is nothing truer than that any breaking up of the ordinary state of things is apt to shake women out of their proprieties12, break down barriers, and bring them into perilous14 proximity15 with the world. "Are you alone here? Had you not better take shelter in the village?"
"And leave my poor, bedridden grandmother!" cried Rose, angrily. "You know I can't, Septimius. But I suppose I am in no danger. Go to the village, if you like."
"Where is Robert Hagburn?" asked Septimius.
"Gone to the village this hour past, with his grandfather's old firelock on his shoulder," said Rose; "he was running bullets before daylight."
"Rose, I will stay with you," said Septimius.
"Oh gracious, here they come, I'm sure!" cried Rose. "Look yonder at the dust. Mercy! a man at a gallop16!"
In fact, along the road, a considerable stretch of which was visible, they heard the clatter17 of hoofs18 and saw a little cloud of dust approaching at the rate of a gallop, and disclosing, as it drew near, a hatless countryman in his shirt-sleeves, who, bending over his horse's neck, applied19 a cart-whip lustily to the animal's flanks, so as to incite20 him to most unwonted speed. At the same time, glaring upon Rose and Septimius, he lifted up his voice and shouted in a strange, high tone, that communicated the tremor21 and excitement of the shouter to each auditor22: "Alarum! alarum! alarum! The redcoats! The redcoats! To arms! alarum!"
And trailing this sound far wavering behind him like a pennon, the eager horseman dashed onward23 to the village.
"Oh dear, what shall we do?" cried Rose, her eyes full of tears, yet dancing with excitement. "They are coming! they are coming! I hear the drum and fife."
"I really believe they are," said Septimius, his cheek flushing and growing pale, not with fear, but the inevitable24 tremor, half painful, half pleasurable, of the moment. "Hark! there was the shrill25 note of a fife. Yes, they are coming!"
He tried to persuade Rose to hide herself in the house; but that young person would not be persuaded to do so, clinging to Septimius in a way that flattered while it perplexed26 him. Besides, with all the girl's fright, she had still a good deal of courage, and much curiosity too, to see what these redcoats were of whom she heard such terrible stories.
"Well, well, Rose," said Septimius; "I doubt not we may stay here without danger,–you, a woman, and I, whose profession is to be that of peace and good-will to all men. They cannot, whatever is said of them, be on an errand of massacre27. We will stand here quietly; and, seeing that we do not fear them, they will understand that we mean them no harm."
They stood, accordingly, a little in front of the door by the well-curb, and soon they saw a heavy cloud of dust, from amidst which shone bayonets; and anon, a military band, which had hitherto been silent, struck up, with drum and fife, to which the tramp of a thousand feet fell in regular order; then came the column, moving massively, and the redcoats who seemed somewhat wearied by a long night-march, dusty, with bedraggled gaiters, covered with sweat which had rundown from their powdered locks. Nevertheless, these ruddy, lusty Englishmen marched stoutly28, as men that needed only a half-hour's rest, a good breakfast, and a pot of beer apiece, to make them ready to face the world. Nor did their faces look anywise rancorous; but at most, only heavy, cloddish, good-natured, and humane29.
"O heavens, Mr. Felton!" whispered Rose, "why should we shoot these men, or they us? they look kind, if homely30. Each of them has a mother and sisters, I suppose, just like our men."
"It is the strangest thing in the world that we can think of killing31 them," said Septimius. "Human life is so precious."
Just as they were passing the cottage, a halt was called by the commanding officer, in order that some little rest might get the troops into a better condition and give them breath before entering the village, where it was important to make as imposing32 a show as possible. During this brief stop, some of the soldiers approached the well-curb, near which Rose and Septimius were standing33, and let down the bucket to satisfy their thirst. A young officer, a petulant34 boy, extremely handsome, and of gay and buoyant deportment, also came up.
"Get me a cup, pretty one," said he, patting Rose's cheek with great freedom, though it was somewhat and indefinitely short of rudeness; "a mug, or something to drink out of, and you shall have a kiss for your pains."
"Stand off, sir!" said Septimius, fiercely; "it is a coward's part to insult a woman."
"I intend no insult in this," replied the handsome young officer, suddenly snatching a kiss from Rose, before she could draw back. "And if you think it so, my good friend, you had better take your weapon and get as much satisfaction as you can, shooting at me from behind a hedge."
Before Septimius could reply or act,–and, in truth, the easy presumption35 of the young Englishman made it difficult for him, an inexperienced recluse36 as he was, to know what to do or say,–the drum beat a little tap, recalling the soldiers to their rank and to order. The young officer hastened back, with a laughing glance at Rose, and a light, contemptuous look of defiance37 at Septimius, the drums rattling38 out in full beat, and the troops marched on.
"What impertinence!" said Rose, whose indignant color made her look pretty enough almost to excuse the offence.
It is not easy to see how Septimius could have shielded her from the insult; and yet he felt inconceivably outraged39 and humiliated40 at the thought that this offence had occurred while Rose was under his protection, and he responsible for her. Besides, somehow or other, he was angry with her for having undergone the wrong, though certainly most unreasonably41; for the whole thing was quicker done than said.
"You had better go into the house now, Rose," said he, "and see to your bedridden grandmother."
"And what will you do, Septimius?" asked she.
"Perhaps I will house myself, also," he replied. "Perhaps take yonder proud redcoat's counsel, and shoot him behind a hedge."
"But not kill him outright42; I suppose he has a mother and a sweetheart, the handsome young officer," murmured Rose pityingly to herself.
Septimius went into his house, and sat in his study for some hours, in that unpleasant state of feeling which a man of brooding thought is apt to experience when the world around him is in a state of intense action, which he finds it impossible to sympathize with. There seemed to be a stream rushing past him, by which, even if he plunged43 into the midst of it, he could not be wet. He felt himself strangely ajar with the human race, and would have given much either to be in full accord with it, or to be separated from it forever.
"I am dissevered from it. It is my doom44 to be only a spectator of life; to look on as one apart from it. Is it not well, therefore, that, sharing none of its pleasures and happiness, I should be free of its fatalities45 its brevity? How cold I am now, while this whirlpool of public feeling is eddying46 around me! It is as if I had not been born of woman!"
Thus it was that, drawing wild inferences from phenomena47 of the mind and heart common to people who, by some morbid48 action within themselves, are set ajar with the world, Septimius continued still to come round to that strange idea of undyingness which had recently taken possession of him. And yet he was wrong in thinking himself cold, and that he felt no sympathy in the fever of patriotism49 that was throbbing50 through his countrymen. He was restless as a flame; he could not fix his thoughts upon his book; he could not sit in his chair, but kept pacing to and fro, while through the open window came noises to which his imagination gave diverse interpretation51. Now it was a distant drum; now shouts; by and by there came the rattle52 of musketry, that seemed to proceed from some point more distant than the village; a regular roll, then a ragged53 volley, then scattering54 shots. Unable any longer to preserve this unnatural55 indifference56, Septimius snatched his gun, and, rushing out of the house, climbed the abrupt57 hill-side behind, whence he could see a long way towards the village, till a slight bend hid the uneven58 road. It was quite vacant, not a passenger upon it. But there seemed to be confusion in that direction; an unseen and inscrutable trouble, blowing thence towards him, intimated by vague sounds,–by no sounds. Listening eagerly, however, he at last fancied a mustering59 sound of the drum; then it seemed as if it were coming towards him; while in advance rode another horseman, the same kind of headlong messenger, in appearance, who had passed the house with his ghastly cry of alarum; then appeared scattered60 countrymen, with guns in their hands, straggling across fields. Then he caught sight of the regular array of British soldiers, filling the road with their front, and marching along as firmly as ever, though at a quick pace, while he fancied that the officers looked watchfully61 around. As he looked, a shot rang sharp from the hill-side towards the village; the smoke curled up, and Septimius saw a man stagger and fall in the midst of the troops. Septimius shuddered62; it was so like murder that he really could not tell the difference; his knees trembled beneath him; his breath grew short, not with terror, but with some new sensation of awe63.
Another shot or two came almost simultaneously64 from the wooded height, but without any effect that Septimius could perceive. Almost at the same moment a company of the British soldiers wheeled from the main body, and, dashing out of the road, climbed the hill, and disappeared into the wood and shrubbery that veiled it. There were a few straggling shots, by whom fired, or with what effect, was invisible, and meanwhile the main body of the enemy proceeded along the road. They had now advanced so nigh that Septimius was strangely assailed65 by the idea that he might, with the gun in his hand, fire right into the midst of them, and select any man of that now hostile band to be a victim. How strange, how strange it is, this deep, wild passion that nature has implanted in us to be the death of our fellow-creatures, and which coexists at the same time with horror! Septimius levelled his weapon, and drew it up again; he marked a mounted officer, who seemed to be in chief command, whom he knew that he could kill. But no! he had really no such purpose. Only it was such a temptation. And in a moment the horse would leap, the officer would fall and lie there in the dust of the road, bleeding, gasping66, breathing in spasms67, breathing no more.
While the young man, in these unusual circumstances, stood watching the marching of the troops, he heard the noise of rustling68 boughs69, and the voices of men, and soon understood that the party, which he had seen separate itself from the main body and ascend70 the hill, was now marching along on the hill-top, the long ridge71 which, with a gap or two, extended as much as a mile from the village. One of these gaps occurred a little way from where Septimius stood. They were acting72 as flank guard, to prevent the up-roused people from coming so close to the main body as to fire upon it. He looked and saw that the detachment of British was plunging73 down one side of this gap, with intent to ascend the other, so that they would pass directly over the spot where he stood; a slight removal to one side, among the small bushes, would conceal74 him. He stepped aside accordingly, and from his concealment75, not without drawing quicker breaths, beheld76 the party draw near. They were more intent upon the space between them and the main body than upon the dense77 thicket78 of birch-trees, pitch-pines, sumach, and dwarf79 oaks, which, scarcely yet beginning to bud into leaf, lay on the other side, and in which Septimius lurked80.
They had all passed, except an officer who brought up the rear, and who had perhaps been attracted by some slight motion that Septimius made,–some rustle82 in the thicket; for he stopped, fixed83 his eyes piercingly towards the spot where he stood, and levelled a light fusil which he carried. "Stand out, or I shoot," said he.
Not to avoid the shot, but because his manhood felt a call upon it not to skulk84 in obscurity from an open enemy, Septimius at once stood forth, and confronted the same handsome young officer with whom those fierce words had passed on account of his rudeness to Rose Garfield. Septimius's fierce Indian blood stirred in him, and gave a murderous excitement.
"Ah, it is you!" said the young officer, with a haughty85 smile. "You meant, then, to take up with my hint of shooting at me from behind a hedge? This is better. Come, we have in the first place the great quarrel between me a king's soldier, and you a rebel; next our private affair, on account of yonder pretty girl. Come, let us take a shot on either score!"
The young officer was so handsome, so beautiful, in budding youth; there was such a free, gay petulance86 in his manner; there seemed so little of real evil in him; he put himself on equal ground with the rustic87 Septimius so generously, that the latter, often so morbid and sullen88, never felt a greater kindness for fellow-man than at this moment for this youth.
"I have no enmity towards you," said he; "go in peace."
"No enmity!" replied the officer. "Then why were you here with your gun amongst the shrubbery? But I have a mind to do my first deed of arms on you; so give up your weapon, and come with me as prisoner."
"A prisoner!" cried Septimius, that Indian fierceness that was in him arousing itself, and thrusting up its malign89 head like a snake. "Never! If you would have me, you must take my dead body."
"Ah well, you have pluck in you, I see, only it needs a considerable stirring. Come, this is a good quarrel of ours. Let us fight it out. Stand where you are, and I will give the word of command. Now; ready, aim, fire!"
As the young officer spoke90 the three last words, in rapid succession, he and his antagonist91 brought their firelocks to the shoulder, aimed and fired. Septimius felt, as it were, the sting of a gadfly passing across his temple, as the Englishman's bullet grazed it; but, to his surprise and horror (for the whole thing scarcely seemed real to him), he saw the officer give a great start, drop his fusil, and stagger against a tree, with his hand to his breast. He endeavored to support himself erect92, but, failing in the effort, beckoned93 to Septimius.
"Come, my good friend," said he, with that playful, petulant smile flitting over his face again. "It is my first and last fight. Let me down as softly as you can on mother earth, the mother of both you and me; so we are brothers; and this may be a brotherly act, though it does not look so, nor feel so. Ah! that was a twinge indeed!"
"Nor I towards you," said the young man. "It was boy's play, and the end of it is that I die a boy, instead of living forever, as perhaps I otherwise might."
"Living forever!" repeated Septimius, his attention arrested, even at that breathless moment, by words that rang so strangely on what had been his brooding thought.
"Yes; but I have lost my chance," said the young officer. Then, as Septimius helped him to lie against the little hillock of a decayed and buried stump95, "Thank you; thank you. If you could only call back one of my comrades to hear my dying words. But I forgot. You have killed me, and they would take your life."
In truth, Septimius was so moved and so astonished, that he probably would have called back the young man's comrades, had it been possible; but, marching at the swift rate of men in peril13, they had already gone far onward, in their passage through the shrubbery that had ceased to rustle behind them.
"Yes; I must die here!" said the young man, with a forlorn expression, as of a school-boy far away from home, "and nobody to see me now but you, who have killed me. Could you fetch me a drop of water? I have a great thirst."
Septimius, in a dream of horror and pity, rushed down the hill-side; the house was empty, for Aunt Keziah had gone for shelter and sympathy to some of the neighbors. He filled a jug96 with cold water, and hurried back to the hill-top, finding the young officer looking paler and more deathlike within those few moments.
"I thank you, my enemy that was, my friend that is," murmured he, faintly smiling. "Methinks, next to the father and mother that gave us birth, the next most intimate relation must be with the man that slays97 us, who introduces us to the mysterious world to which this is but the portal. You and I are singularly connected, doubt it not, in the scenes of the unknown world."
"Oh, believe me," cried Septimius, "I grieve for you like a brother!"
"I see it, my dear friend," said the young officer; "and though my blood is on your hands, I forgive you freely, if there is anything to forgive. But I am dying, and have a few words to say, which you must hear. You have slain98 me in fair fight, and my spoils, according to the rules and customs of warfare99, belong to the victor. Hang up my sword and fusil over your chimney-place, and tell your children, twenty years hence, how they were won. My purse, keep it or give it to the poor. There is something, here next my heart, which I would fain have sent to the address which I will give you."
Septimius, obeying his directions, took from his breast a miniature that hung round it; but, on examination, it proved that the bullet had passed directly through it, shattering the ivory, so that the woman's face it represented was quite destroyed.
"Ah! that is a pity," said the young man; and yet Septimius thought that there was something light and contemptuous mingled100 with the pathos101 in his tones. "Well, but send it; cause it to be transmitted, according to the address."
He gave Septimius, and made him take down on a tablet which he had about him, the name of a hall in one of the midland counties of England.
"Ah, that old place," said he, "with its oaks, and its lawn, and its park, and its Elizabethan gables! I little thought I should die here, so far away, in this barren Yankee land. Where will you bury me?"
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1
exhortations
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| n.敦促( exhortation的名词复数 )；极力推荐；（正式的）演讲；（宗教仪式中的）劝诫 | |
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stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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hampers
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的第三人称单数 ) | |
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impedes
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| 阻碍，妨碍，阻止( impede的第三人称单数 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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adornment
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| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
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proprieties
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| n.礼仪，礼节；礼貌( propriety的名词复数 )；规矩；正当；合适 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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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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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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incite
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| v.引起，激动，煽动 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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auditor
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| n.审计员，旁听着 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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humane
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| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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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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petulant
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| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
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presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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unreasonably
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| adv. 不合理地 | |
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outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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45
fatalities
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| n.恶性事故( fatality的名词复数 )；死亡；致命性；命运 | |
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eddying
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| 涡流，涡流的形成 | |
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phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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52
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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55
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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59
mustering
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的现在分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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60
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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watchfully
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| 警惕地，留心地 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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63
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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66
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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spasms
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| n.痉挛( spasm的名词复数 )；抽搐；（能量、行为等的）突发；发作 | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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72
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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73
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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74
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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76
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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82
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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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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84
skulk
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| v.藏匿；潜行 | |
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85
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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86
petulance
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| n.发脾气，生气，易怒，暴躁，性急 | |
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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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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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malign
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| adj.有害的；恶性的；恶意的；v.诽谤，诬蔑 | |
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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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antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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slays
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的第三人称单数 ) | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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99
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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100
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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101
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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