The sunshine and the general brightness of the day had its due effect on George Dallas, who was young, for a nineteenth-century man almost romantic, and certainly impressible. His spirits rose within him, as, his breakfast finished, he started off to walk to Poynings. Drinking in the loveliness of the broad sun-steeped landscape, the sweet odours coming towards him on the soft breeze, the pleasant sound, were it chink of blacksmith's hammer, or hum of bees, or voice of cuckoo hidden deep in distant bright-leaved woods, the young man for a time forgot his baser associations and seemed to rise, in the surroundings of the moment, to a better and purer frame of mind than he had known for many years. Natural, under such circumstances, was the first turning of his thoughts to his mother, to whose deep love and self-sacrifice he was indebted for the freedom which at length was about to be his. In his worst times there had been one bright spot of love for her in all the black folly16 of his life, and now the recollection of her disinterestedness18 and long suffering on his behalf made her as purely19 dear to him as when, in the old days that seemed so long ago, he had said his prayers at her knee. He recollected20 walking with her in their garden on mornings like these, when they were all in all to each other, soon after his father's death, when that chastening memory was on them both, and before there was any thought of Mr. Carruthers or his niece--or his niece!--and straightway off went his thoughts into a different channel. What a pretty girl! so soft and quiet, so fresh withal, and frank, and guileless, so different from--Well, he didn't know; with similar advantages Harriet might have been very much the same. But Miss Carruthers was certainly specially21 charming; the talk which they had had together showed that. The talk which they had together? Was he not entering her own domain22? What if she were to meet and recognize him there? That would spoil all their plans. A word from her would--O no! Though Mrs. Carruthers might not have been intended as a conspirator23 by nature, George felt by his recent experience of his mother's movements that she would have sufficient foresight24 to prevent Clare from leaving the house, just at that time, lest she might discover the rendezvous25 in the shrubbery. The tact26 that had so rapidly shifted the venue27 of their last meeting from the bustle29 of the draper's to the calm solitude30 of the dentist's would assuredly be sufficient to prevent a young girl from intruding31 on their next appointment.
Busy with these thoughts, and ever and anon pausing to look round him at the fair scenes through which he was passing, George Dallas pursued his way along the high road until he gained the summit of the little hill whence is obtained the first view of Poynings and its grounds. There he stopped suddenly; from that point he had always intended to reconnoitre, but he had never anticipated seeing what he did see--a carriage driving through the open lodge32 gates, and in the carriage reclining at his ease no less a person than Mr. Capel Carruthers. It was he, not a doubt about it, in the respectability of his glossy33 broad-brimmed hat, in his white whiskers, in his close-fitting dogskin gloves, in the very double gold eye-glass with which he was looking at nature in a very patronizing manner. Even if he had not been short-sighted, Mr. Carruthers was at such a distance as would utterly34 have prevented him from recognizing any one on the top of the hill; but George Dallas no sooner saw him than instinctively35 he crouched36 down by the hedge-side and waited until the carriage was rolling down the avenue; then he slowly raised himself, muttering:
"What the deuce has brought him back just now? confound him! What on earth will she do? It's most infernally provoking, just at this very nick of time; he might have kept off a few hours longer. She won't come to the shrubbery now; she's frightened out of her life at that old ruffian, and, by George, I shall be put off again! After all I've said to Routh, after all the castles in the air which I've been building on the chance of getting free, I shall have to slink back to town empty-handed!" He was leaning over a gate in the hedge, and as he spoke37 he shook his fist at the unconscious county magistrate38, visible in the distance now but by the crown of his hat. "Except," continued George, "knowing how deeply I'm involved, she'll risk all hazards and come to the shrubbery. Perhaps she's started now, not expecting him, and when he reaches the house and doesn't find her there--he's always hanging on her trail, curse him!--he will make inquiries39 and follow her. That would be worst of all, for not only should I miss what she promised me, but she would come to grief herself, poor darling. Well, I must chance it, whatever happens."
He turned down a by-lane which ran at right angles to the avenue, pursuing which he came upon a low park paling enclosing the shrubbery. Carefully looking round him, and finding no one within sight, he climbed the paling, and dropped noiselessly upon the primrose-decked bank on the other side. All quiet; nothing moving but the birds darting40 in and out among the bright green trees, and the grasshoppers41 in myriads42 round his feet. The walk had tired him, and he lay down on the mossy turf and awaited his mother's coming. Mossy turf, soft and sweet-smelling, the loud carol of the birds, the pleasant, soothing43, slumberous44 sound of the trees bending gently towards each other as the mild air rustled45 in the leaves. It was long since he had experienced these influences, but he was now under their spell. What did they recall? Boyhood's days; the Bishop's Wood, where they went birds'-nesting; Duke Primus, who wore "stick-ups," and was the cock of the school, and Charley Cope, who used to tell such good stories in bed, and Bergemann, a German boy, who was drowned in a pond in just such a part of the wood as this, and--twelve o'clock rings sharply out from the turret46 clock in Poynings stables, and at its sound away fly the ghosts of the past. Twelve o'clock, the time appointed in his mother's letter for him to meet her in that very spot. He rose up from the turf, and sheltering himself behind the broad trunk of an old tree, looked anxiously in the direction of the house. No human being was to be seen; a few rabbits whisked noiselessly about, their little white tails gleaming as they disappeared in the brushwood, but they and the birds and the grasshoppers comprised all the life about the place. He looked on the big trees and the chequered shade between them, and the glimpses of blue skylight between their topmost boughs47; he left his vantage ground and strode listlessly to and fro; the quarter chime rung out from the turret, then the half hour, and still no one came.
Some one coming at last! George's quick eyes make out a female figure in the far distance, not his mother, though. This woman's back is bowed, her step slow and hesitating, unlike Mrs. Carruthers, on whose matronly beauty Time has as yet laid his gentlest touch. He must stand aside, he thought, amongst the trees until the new comer had passed by; but as the woman approached, her gait and figure seemed familiar to him, and when she raised her head and looked round her as though expecting some one, he recognized Nurse Brooks48. The old woman gave a suppressed scream as George Dallas stepped out from among the trees and stood before her.
"I could not help it, George," said she; "I could not help it, though I was looking for and expecting you at that moment, and that's more than you were doing for me, isn't it? You were expecting some one else, my boy?"
"Is anything the matter? Is she ill? Has her husband found out?"
"Nothing! She's--well, as well as may be, poor dear, and--"
"Then she hasn't been able to do what she promised?"
"Oh, George, George, did you ever know her fail in doing what she promised, from the days when you were a baby until now? Better for her, poor thing, as I've often told her, if she hadn't--"
"Yes, yes, nurse, I know all about that, of course; but why isn't she here now?"
"She daren't come, George. Master's come home unexpected, and he and Miss Clare are with her, and there is no chance for her to make an excuse to get away. So she just runs into her dressing-room for a minute, and sends to me--she always sends to me in her troubles, as you've seen many a time and oft, Master George--and tells me, she says, 'Take this and go into the shrubbery, and tell George,' she says, 'why I couldn't come, and that I sent it him with my heart's love, and God bless him,' she says."
As the old woman spoke, she produced from her pocket a round flat parcel wrapped in writing-paper, which she handed to Dallas. He took it with a very weak attempt at unconcern (he did not know with how much of their secret his mother might have intrusted the old nurse), and thrust it into his breast-pocket, saying at the same time, "Thanks, nurse. That's all right. Did she say anything else?"
"Nothing, I think. O yes--that of course you would not remain in the neighbourhood, and that you were to be sure to write to her, and send your address."
"She need not be afraid--I'm off at once! Good-bye, nurse. Tell my mother I'll hold to all I promised her. Thank her a thousand times, bless her! Good-bye, dear old woman; perhaps the next time we meet I shan't have to skulk49 in a wood when I want to see my mother!"
He pressed a hasty kiss on the old woman's upturned face, and hurried away. The last sound he had uttered seemed to have rekindled50 the old vindictive51 feeling in his mind, for as he strode away he muttered to himself: "Skulking52 in a wood, hiding behind trees--a pretty way for a son to seek his mother, and she never to come after all! Prevented by her fear of that pompous53 idiot, her husband. To think of her, such as I recollect17 her, being afraid of an empty-headed dotard. And yet he is kind to her. She said so herself--that's nothing; but Nurse Brookes said so too--that's something--that's everything. If he were not--if he treated her badly--he should rue54 it. But he is fond of her, and proud of her, as well he may be; and Clare, that charming girl, is his niece. Charming indeed! Ah, Capel Carruthers, you have a wholesome55 horror of me, but you little know that two guardian56 angels plead for you!"
The sight of the park paling over which he had climbed into the shrubbery, and over which lay his only way out of it, seemed to change the tenor57 of his thoughts. He stopped at once, and looking cautiously round, stepped in among the trees, and drew from his breast the packet which Nurse Brookes had given to him. He tore off the outer covering of writing-paper, and carefully placed it in his pocket, then he came to a purple morocco case, which he opened, and there before him, set off by the velvet58 on which it lay, was the bracelet59, a band of dead gold, set with splendid wreaths of forget-me-nots in diamonds and turquoises60. George Dallas took it up and examined it attentively61, weighed it in his hand, looked closely at the stones in various lights, then replaced it in its case, as a smile of satisfaction spread over his face.
"No mistake about that!" said he. "Even I, all unaccustomed to such luxuries, know that this must be the right thing. She has sent it as she received it, in the very box, with the swell62 Bond-street jeweller's name and all! Not a bad notion of a present, Mr. Carruthers, by any means. You've money, sir; but, it must be owned, you've taste also. It's only to be hoped that you've not very sharp eyesight, or that you'll never be tempted63 to make a very close inspection64 of the Palais Royal bijouterie which is doing duty for this in the jewel-box! These will set me clear with Routh, and leave me with a few pounds in my pocket besides, to begin life anew with. If it does that and I can stick to my employment on the Mercury, and get a little more work somewhere else, and give up that infernal card-playing--that's the worst of it--I may yet make our friend C. C. believe I am not such a miserable65 scoundrel as he now imagines me!"
He replaced the case carefully in his breast-pocket, climbed the palings, and was once more on the high road, striding in the direction of Amherst. Ah, the castle-building, only occasionally interrupted by a return to the realities of life in squeezing the packet in his breast-pocket, which he indulged in during that walk! Free, with the chance and the power of making a name for himself in the world! free from all the debasing associations, free from Routh, from Harriet--from Harriet? Was that idea quite so congenial to his feelings? to be separated from Harriet, the only woman whom, in his idle dissipated days, he had ever regarded with anything like affection, the only woman who--and then the bright laughing face and the golden hair of Clare Carruthers rose before his mind. How lovely she was, how graceful66 and bred-looking, above all, how fresh and youthful, how unsullied by any contact with the world, with all the native instincts pure and original, with no taught captivations or society charms, nothing but--
"Yoho! Yoho!"
George Dallas started from his reverie at the repeated cry, and only just in time sprang from the middle of the road along which, immersed in thought, he had been plodding67, as the mail-cart, with its red-faced driver, a sprig of lilac in his breast and a bunch of laburnum behind each ear of his horse, came charging full upon him. The driver was a man choleric68 by nature, and with a great sense of his position as an important government officer, and he glared round at George and asked him a few rapid questions, in which the devil and his supposed residence were referred to with great volubility. Under less pleasant circumstances Dallas would probably have returned his greeting with interest; as it was, he merely laughed, and, waving his hand, proceeded on his way to the inn, whence, having paid his bill, he returned to London by the first train.
During the whole of the journey up to town the young man's thoughts were filled with his intentions for the future, and no sooner had the train stopped at London-bridge than he determined69 to go at once to the Mercury office and announce his readiness to undertake any amount of work. Accordingly he struck away across the Borough70, and, crossing Blackfriars-bridge, dived among a mass of streets running at right angles with Fleet-street, until he arrived at a large, solemn, squat71 old building, over the door of which glimmered72 a lamp with the words "Mercury Office" in half-effaced characters. A small pull at a sharp, round, big bell brought a preternaturally sharp boy to the door, who at once recognized the visitor, and admitted him within the sacred precincts. Up a dark passage, up a steep and regular flight of stairs, George Dallas proceeded, until on the first floor he rapped at the door facing him, and, being bidden to come in, entered the editorial sanctum.
A large cheerless room, its floor covered with a ragged73 old Turkey carpet, on its walls two or three book-shelves crammed74 with books of reference, two or three maps, an old clock gravely ticking, and a begrimed bust28, with its hair dust-powdered, and with layers of dust on its highly developed cheek-bones. In the middle of the room a battered75 old desk covered with blue books, letters opened and unopened, piles of manuscript under paper-weights, baskets with cards of invitations for all sorts of soirées, entertainments, and performances, and snake-like india-rubber tubes for communication with distant printing-offices or reporters' rooms, a big leaden inkstand like a bath, and a sheaf of pens more or less dislocated. At this desk sat a tall man of about fifty, bald-headed, large-bearded, with sharp gray eyes, well-cut features, and good presence. This was Mr. Leigh, editor of the Mercury; a man who had been affiliated76 to the press from the time of his leaving college, who had been connected with nearly all the morning journals in one capacity or another, correspondent here, manager there, descriptive writer, leader-writer, critic, and scrub, and who, always rising, had been recommended by the Jupiter Tonans of the press, the editor of the Statesman, to fill the vacant editorial chair at the Mercury. A long-headed, far-seeing man, Grafton Leigh, bright as a diamond, and about as hard, keen as a sword in the hands of a fine fencer, and as difficult to turn aside, earnest, energetic, devoted77 to his work, and caring for nothing else in comparison--not even for his wife, then sound asleep in his little house in Brompton, or his boy working for his exhibition from Westminster. He looked up as George entered, and his features, tightly set, relaxed as he recognized the young man.
"You, Ward15!" said he. "We didn't look for you till to-morrow night. What rush of industry, what sudden desire to distinguish yourself, has brought you here to-night, my boy?"
Before George could answer, a young man came forward from an inner room, and caught him by the hand.
"What, Paul, old fellow, this is delicious! He must be brimming over with ideas, Chief, and has come down here to ventilate them."
"Not I," said George. "My dear Chief," addressing Leigh, "both you and Cunningham give me credit for more virtue78 than I possess. I merely looked in as I passed from the railway to see how things were going on."
"This is a sell," said Mr. Cunningham. "I thought I had booked you. You see that confounded Shimmer79 has failed us again. He was to have done us a sensation leader on the murder--"
"The murder! What murder?"
"Oh, ah, I forgot; happened since you went away. Wapping or Rotherhithe--some waterside place--body found, and all that kind of thing! Shimmer was to have done us one of his stirrers, full of adjectives, denouncing the supineness of the police, and that kind of thing, and he's never turned up, and the Chief has kept me here to fill his place. Confounded nuisance! I'm obliged to fall back on my old subject--Regulation of the City Traffic!"
"I'm very sorry for you, Cunningham," said George, laughing; "but I can't help you to-night. I'm seedy and tired, and I know nothing about the murder, and want to get to bed. However, I came to tell the Chief that I'm his now and for ever, ready to do double tasks of work from to-morrow out."
"All right, Ward. So long as you don't overdo80 it, I shall always be delighted to have you with us," said Mr. Leigh. "Now get home to bed, for you look dog-tired." And George Dallas shook hands with each, and went away.
"Glad to hear we're going to have a good deal of work out of Ward, Chief," said Cunningham, when he and his editor were alone again. "He's deuced smart when he likes--as smart as Shimmer, and a great deal more polished and gentlemanly."
"Yes," said Grafton Leigh, "he's a decided81 catch for the paper. I don't think his health will last, though. Did you notice his manner to-night?--nervous, agitated82, and twitching83, like a man who had gone through some great excitement!"
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1
incubus
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| n.负担；恶梦 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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verdant
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| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
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ripening
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
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comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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socketed
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| v.把…装入托座（或插座），给…装上托座（或插座）( socket的过去分词 )；[高尔夫球]用棒头承口部位击（球） | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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obdurate
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| adj.固执的，顽固的 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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disinterestedness
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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conspirator
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| n.阴谋者，谋叛者 | |
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foresight
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rendezvous
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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venue
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| n.犯罪地点，审判地，管辖地，发生地点，集合地点 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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bustle
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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intruding
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| v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的现在分词)；把…强加于 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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utterly
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instinctively
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crouched
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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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magistrate
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| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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grasshoppers
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| n.蚱蜢( grasshopper的名词复数 )；蝗虫；蚂蚱；（孩子）矮小的 | |
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myriads
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| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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slumberous
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| a.昏昏欲睡的 | |
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rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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turret
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| n.塔楼，角塔 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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skulk
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| v.藏匿；潜行 | |
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rekindled
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| v.使再燃( rekindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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skulking
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| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
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pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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turquoises
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| n.绿松石( turquoise的名词复数 )；青绿色 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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plodding
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| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
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choleric
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| adj.易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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borough
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| n.享有自治权的市镇；(英)自治市镇 | |
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squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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affiliated
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| adj. 附属的, 有关连的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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overdo
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| vt.把...做得过头，演得过火 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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