The young men came, and submitted to questionings. None of them knew exactly when Peter had arrived at O’Brien’s. There had been a fight at the saloon. Young Sproul had still a black eye from it, and after Bob McWhee had knocked him down, there had been a few bad minutes when the onlookers3 wondered if he was ever to rise again. It had been exciting, to say the least. And men had been busy pacifying4 the two. After that, Peter was there ... though no one remembered to have seen him coming in. He hadn’t asked for anything to eat. He had drunken quietly, and been silent. Wully, who had been swallowing his wrath5 as best he might all the morning, as man after man came out of pity for Libby Keith, each man’s kindness to her making Wully’s purpose seem the greater sin against the mother—Wully couldn’t understand this story about Peter’s quietness. Peter gabbled, naturally. He went noisily on and on. And now, not a man who had seen his[205] surprising return, could report definitely a thing he had said. He hadn’t really said anything. Wully’s brother John testified that when he first saw him, he asked him if he had come back to see his mother. Libby Keith, listening with her harrowed soul, saw no sarcasm6 in such a greeting. Peter had just mumbled7 something in reply. It had never occurred to John that Peter hadn’t been home. He thought of course he had had supper there. It seemed strange to no one that John had desired no further intercourse8 with his cousin. His story agreed with that of all the others. He had tarried but a few minutes at the saloon, naturally, and besides, there was the storm coming on. He had cared enough for the family name to get Peter started on his way home with the McTaggerts. The young Jimmy McTaggert had sung Psalms9 obscenely all the way along, and Peter had sat on the side of the wagon10. He hadn’t been too drunk to hold on there over all the joltings. John had left him getting down at the corner. Then the great honest young McTaggert took up the story, and lucky indeed it was for his wildly drinking young brother that no one doubted what he had to say. Even O’Brien, the whisky-selling man whose name was anathema11 to mothers of rollicking sons and erring12 husbands, came volunteering his futile13 help.
They organized the search. They divided into parties. Some were to venture out into the deep waters of the more probable sloughs14. Some were[206] to hunt the woods towards O’Brien’s, because Peter was always wanting another drink, and might have turned, befuddled15, in that direction. Some were to hunt through the creek16 underbrush. Wully chose to go with one of the parties towards the creek, partly because that would take him past his father’s, and he was anxious to warn Chirstie under no provocation17 to tell yet what she knew, and partly because in that way he would get farthest away from his aunt. He felt as if all the solid faithful earth under his feet had given way, and he was attempting to cling to—just nothing. That woman, his aunt, had harvested before him all the sympathy that should have been his. When now he had killed Peter, the community would think only of her sorrow. There would be no thought of the justification18 of the man constrained19 to his murder. There was an intense unfairness about it all, some way. Wully was consoled dumbly by the Squire’s half-heartedness in the search. He grumbled20 as he went along about having to go. And Wully’s heart warmed to him, not knowing that the Squire’s sensualism, like all men’s, had always to be at war with maternity21, which was Libby Keith. Wully had time to question John privately22, but he got no further information. Even Chirstie could explain nothing. “Did he look sick?” Wully demanded of her anxiously. “He was drunk, wasn’t he?” She drew back from the question. “Oh, don’t ask me!” she murmured. “He just looked—at me!”
[207]The men spent all day in the more unfathomable menaces. The women searched back and forth23 about the Keiths’ house. The two miles between that house and the corner, back and forth, up and down that road, they beat persistently24 and prayerfully, until the little path of the day before was a great river-bed of trodden muddy grass hiding nothing. They searched all impossible places; through the Keiths’ and McCreaths’ and McTaggerts’ barns they went again and again. Peter hadn’t disappeared out of existence. He was somewhere. Likely somewhere between the house and the corner. They went over that path continually till their children began to cry for supper.
The men stopped not even to eat. Let the women and the children do the chores. Let them go undone25. Steaming and weary and excited, they went on with their hunt till the sun set, till the last glimmer26 of twilight27 was gone. Now none was as persevering28 as the Squire. The hunt had become for him the greatest game of his maturity29. One by one in the darkness the men had at length to ride home to their waiting families, with no news. Strange things they had to think on, places in the swamps where they had not been able to touch bottom, places where the rushes grew rank and thick with scarcely space enough for nest of the crying waterbirds—stretches with no sign of a lost man, and no hope for one losing himself....
At the Keiths’ Isobel McLaughlin in Peter’s bed in the kitchen was lying praying. Except his[208] mother, no one prayed as fervently30 for Peter’s safe return as Isobel. All that she asked of the Almighty31 was that Peter might be found alive and well enough to take the shame away from her good innocent Wully. If Peter was brought home dead—how then ever, in the face of Libby’s grief, could she say that the beloved was a scoundrel! How could she ever endure not saying it? That would be too bitter a dose for her. Let God not give her that cup to drink! If fervency32 could have brought an answer to prayer, how quickly would Peter have appeared!
Her passionate33 hope had been some consolation34 to Libby, who so little understood the reason for it. Libby was lying down in her room, not because Isobel had besought35 her to, but because she was no longer able to stand up. Isobel wanted to get some rest, but she couldn’t leave off her praying to God, the good Father. She hoped Libby might sleep till morning.
But the moon rose after midnight, and with the first flicker36 of its light, Libby came out of the bedroom, tying a skirt about her. Isobel sat up in bed.
“There’s moonlight now,” said Libby. Even from the doorway37, where she stood in the darkness, Isobel could hear her breathing.
“I mind wee Jennie Price,” said Libby.
“Ah, Libby!” protested Isobel, shrinking from the mention of such poignancy39. Jennie Price was[209] the six-year-old who had been lost in the grasses, wandering from her home some twenty miles down the creek, a year or two ago. What but that had all the women been thinking of all the day and shrinking from mentioning.
Libby was groping about for her shoes which she had left in the kitchen.
“Just near home, Isobel! Forty yards from her mother’s door.”
“You can’t go out by night, Libby. You can’t stand up!”
“Crawling towards home, it may be.”
“Libby! Libby!” cried Isobel, getting up. Forty yards from home they had found the girlish skeleton the next spring, in a place a hundred men would swear in court they had sought through dozens of times. The mother herself had come upon it. Had the child been stolen away for some evil purpose, and flung back later to die? No one would ever know.
“The wee bones were all white, Isobel!”
“Spare us, Libby! Peter’s a man grown!”
The women went out calling down the road together. At dawn, when John McCreath came out to milk, while yet the stars were shining, he heard Libby calling hoarsely40, “Lammie! Lammie! Your mother’s coming!”
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收听单词发音
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1
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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2
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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3
onlookers
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| n.旁观者，观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
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4
pacifying
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| 使（某人）安静( pacify的现在分词 )； 息怒； 抚慰； 在（有战争的地区、国家等）实现和平 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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6
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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7
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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8
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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9
psalms
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| n.赞美诗( psalm的名词复数 )；圣诗；圣歌；(中的) | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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anathema
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| n.诅咒；被诅咒的人(物)，十分讨厌的人(物) | |
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12
erring
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| 做错事的，错误的 | |
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13
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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14
sloughs
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| n.沼泽( slough的名词复数 )；苦难的深渊；难以改变的不良心情；斯劳(Slough)v.使蜕下或脱落( slough的第三人称单数 )；舍弃；除掉；摒弃 | |
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15
befuddled
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| adj.迷糊的，糊涂的v.使烂醉( befuddle的过去式和过去分词 )；使迷惑不解 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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justification
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| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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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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maternity
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| n.母性，母道，妇产科病房；adj.孕妇的，母性的 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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23
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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persevering
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| a.坚忍不拔的 | |
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maturity
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| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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30
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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32
fervency
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| n.热情的；强烈的；热烈 | |
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33
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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34
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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35
besought
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| v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的过去式和过去分词 )；(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
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36
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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37
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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38
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
poignancy
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| n.辛酸事，尖锐 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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