When he had returned from France three days before, he had been met with news that the business enterprise had gone to smash during the war, the girl had become engaged to a dashing young captain with a well-feathered nest, and the debt had become a galling3 yoke4.
“Father says, tell you you need not worry about the money you owe him,” wrote the girl sweetly, concluding her[29] revelations. “You can pay it at your leisure when you get started again.”
Lyman Gage lost no time in gathering5 together every cent he could scrape up. This was more than he had at first hoped, because of the fact that he owned two houses in the big city in which he had landed; and these houses, though old and small, happened to be located in the vicinity of a great industrial plant that had sprung up since the end of the war, and houses were going at soaring prices. They were snapped up at once at a sum that was fabulous7 in comparison with their real value. This, with what he had brought home and the bonus he received on landing, exactly covered his indebtedness to the man who was to have been his father-in-law; and, when he turned away from the window where he had been telegraphing the money to his lawyer in a far State with instructions to pay the[30] loan at once, he had just forty-six cents left in his pocket.
Suddenly, as he reflected that he had done the last thing there was left that he now cared to do on earth, the noises of the great city got hold upon his nerve, and tore and racked it.
He was filled with a great desire to get out and away from it, he cared not where, only so that the piercing sounds and rumbling8 grind of the traffic of the city should not press upon the raw nerves and torture them.
With no thought of getting anything to eat or providing for a shelterless night that was fast coming on, he wandered out into the train-area of the great station, and idly read the names up over the train-gates. One caught his fancy, “Purling Brook9.” It seemed as if it might be quiet there, and a fellow could think. He followed the impulse, and strode through the[31] gates just as they were about to be closed. Dropping into the last seat in the car as the train was about to start, he flung his head back, and closed his eyes wearily. He did not care whether he ever got anywhere or not. He was weary in heart and spirit. He wished that he might just sink away into nothingness. He was too tired to think, to bemoan10 his fate, to touch with torturing finger of memory all the little beautiful hopes that he had woven about the girl he thought he loved better than any one else on earth. Just passingly he had a wish that he had a living mother to whom he could go with his sick heart for healing. But she had been gone long years, and his father even longer. There was really no one to whom he cared to show his face, now that all he had counted dear on earth had been suddenly taken from him.
The conductor roused him from a[32] profound sleep, demanding a ticket, and he had the good fortune to remember the name he had seen over the gate: “Purling Brook. How much?”
“Fifty-six cents.”
“Guess you better put me off here, and I’ll walk,” he said, stumbling wearily to his feet.
“That’s all right, son. Sit down,” said the conductor half roughly. “You pay me when you come back sometime. I’ll make it good.” And he glanced at the uniform kindly12.
Gage looked down at his shabby self helplessly. Yes, he was still a soldier, and people had not got over the habit of being kind to the uniform. He thanked the conductor, and sank into sleep again, to be roused by the same kindly hand a few minutes later at Purling[33] Brook. He stumbled off, and stood looking dazedly13 about him at the trig little village. The sleep was not yet gone from his eyes, nor the ache from his nerves; but the clear quiet of the little town seemed to wrap him about soothingly14 like salve, and the crisp air entered into his lungs, and gave him heart. He realized that he was hungry.
It seemed to have been a popular afternoon train that he had travelled upon. He looked beyond the groups of happy home-comers to where it hurried away gustily15 down the track, even then preparing to stop at the next near suburban16 station to deposit a few more home-comers. There on that train went the only friend he felt he had in the world at present, that grizzly17 conductor with his kindly eyes looking through great bifocals like a pleasant old grasshopper18.
[34]Well, he could not remain here any longer. The air was biting, and the sun was going down. Across the road the little drug-store even then was twinkling out with lights behind its blue and green glass urns19. Two boys and a girl were drinking something at the soda-fountain through straws, and laughing a great deal. It somehow turned him sick, he could not tell why. He had done things like that many a time himself.
There was a little stone church down the street, with a spire20 and bells. The sun touched the bells with burnished21 crimson22 till they looked like Christmas cards. A youthful rural football team went noisily across the road, discoursing23 about how they would come out that night if their mothers would let them; and the station cab came down the street full of passengers, and waited for a lady at the meat-market. He could[35] see the legs of a chicken sticking out of the basket as the driver helped her in.
He began to wonder why he hadn’t stayed in the city and spent his forty-six cents for something to eat. It would have bought a great many crackers24, say, or even bananas. He passed the bakery, and a whiff of fresh-baked bread greeted his nostrils25. He cast a wistful eye at the window. Of course he might go in and ask for a job in payment for his supper. There were his soldier’s clothes. But no. That was equivalent to begging. He could not quite do that. Here in town they would have all the help they wanted. Perhaps, farther out in the country—perhaps—he didn’t know what; only he couldn’t bring himself to ask for food, even with the offer to work. He didn’t care enough for that. What was hunger, anyway? A thing to be satisfied and come again. What[36] would happen if he didn’t satisfy it? Die, of course, but what did it matter? What was there to live for, anyway?
He passed a house all windows, where children were gathered about a piano with one clumsily playing an accompaniment. There was an open fire, and the long windows came down to the piazza26 floor. They were singing at the top of their lungs, the old, time-worn song made familiar to them by community sing-songs, still good to them because they all knew it so well,
“There’s a long, long trail a-winding
Until my dreams all come true;”
and it gripped his heart like a knife. He had sung that song with her when it was new and tender, just before he sailed away; and the trail had seemed so long! And now he had reached the end of it, and she had not been there to meet him! It was incredible! She so fair! And false! After all those months of waiting![37] That was the hardest part of it, that she could have done it, and then explained so lightly that he had been away so long she was sure he would understand, and they both must have got over their childish attachment27; and so on, through the long, nauseating28 sentences of her repeal29. He shuddered30 as he said them over to his tired heart, and then shuddered again with the keen air; for his uniform was thin, and he had no overcoat.
What was that she had said about the money? He needn’t worry about it. A sort of bone to toss to the lone31 dog after he was kicked out. Ah, well! It was paid. He was glad of that. He was even grimly glad for his own destitution32. It gave a kind of sense of satisfaction to have gone hungry and homeless to pay it all in one grand lump, and to have paid it at once, and through his lawyer, without any word to her or her[38] father either. They should not be even distant witnesses of his humiliation33. He would never cross their path again if he had his way. They should be as completely wiped out of his existence and he out of theirs as if the same universe did not hold them.
He passed down the broad, pleasant street in the crisp air, and every home on either hand gave him a thrust of memory that stabbed him to the heart. It was such a home as one of these that he had hoped to have some day, although it would have been in the city, perhaps, for she always liked the city. He had hoped in the depths of his heart to persuade her to the country, though. Now he saw as in a revelation how futile34 such hopes had been. She would never have come to love sweet, quiet ways such as he loved. She couldn’t ever have really loved him, or she would have waited, would not have changed.
[39]Over and over again he turned the bitter story, trying to get it settled in his heart so that the sharp edges would not hurt so, trying to accustom35 himself to the thought that she whom he had cherished through the blackness of the years that were past was not what he had thought her. He stopped in the road beside a tall hedge that hid the Hazard house from view, and snatched out her picture that he had carried in his breast pocket till now; snatched it out, gazed upon it with a look that was not good to see on a young face, and tore it across! He took a step forward, and every step he tore a tiny fragment from the picture and flung it into the road bit by bit till the lovely face was mutilated in the dust where the feet of passers-by would grind upon it and where those great blue eyes that had gazed back at him from the picture so long would be destroyed forever. It[40] was the last thread that bound him to her, that picture; and, when the last scrap6 of picture had fluttered away from him, he put his head down and strode forward like one who has cast away from him his last hope.
The voice of Miss Marilla roused him like a homely36, pleasant sound about the house of a morning when one has had an unhappy dream; and he lifted his head, and, soldier-like, dropped into the old habit of hiding his emotions.
Her kindly face somehow comforted him, and the thought of dinner was a welcome one. The ugly tragedy of his life seemed to melt away for the moment, as if it could not stand the light of the setting sun and her wholesome37 presence. There was an appeal in her eyes that reached him; and somehow he didn’t feel like turning down her na?ve, childlike proposition. Besides, he was used to being cared for because he was[41] a soldier, and why not once more now when everything else had gone so rotten? It was an adventure, anyway, and what was there left for him but adventure? he asked himself with a little bitter sneer38.
But, when she mentioned a girl, that was a different thing! Girls were all treacherous39. It was a new conviction with him; but it had gone deep, so deep that it had extended not only to a certain girl or class of girls, but to all girls everywhere. He had become a woman-hater. He wanted nothing more to do with any of them. And yet at that moment his tired, disappointed, hurt man’s soul was really crying out for the woman of the universe to comfort him, to explain to him this awful circumstance that had come to all his bright dreams. A mother, that was what he thought he wanted; and Miss Marilla looked as if she might make[42] a nice mother. So he turned like a tired little hungry boy, and followed her, at least until she said “girl.” Then he almost turned and fled.
Yet, while Miss Marilla coaxed40 and explained about Mary Amber41, he stood facing again the lovely vision of the girl he had left behind at the beginning of the long, long trail, and whose picture he had just trampled42 underfoot on this end of the trail, which it now seemed to him would wind on forever alone for him. As he paused on Miss Marilla’s immaculate front steps, he was preparing himself to face the enemy of his life in the form of woman. The one thing really that made him go into that house and meekly43 submit to be Miss Marilla’s guest was that his soul had risen to battle. He would fight Girl in the concrete! She should be his enemy from henceforth. And this strange, unknown girl, who hated men and thought[43] them conceited44 and selfish, this cold, inhuman45 creature, was likely false-hearted too, like the one he had loved and who had not loved him. He would show her what he thought of such girls, of all girls; what all men who knew anything about it thought of all girls! And, thus reasoning, he followed Miss Marilla into the pleasant oilcloth-covered hall, and up the front stairs to the spare room, where she smilingly showed him the towels and brushes prepared for his comfort, and left him, calling cheerily back that dinner would be on the table as soon as he was ready to come down.
All the time he was bathing his tired, dirty face and cold, rough hands in the warm, sweet-scented soap-suds, and wiping them on the fragrant46 towel, even while he stood in front of the mirror all polished to reflect the visage of Lieutenant47 Richard H. Chadwick, and brushed his close-cropped curls till[44] there was not a hint of wave left in them, he was hardening himself to meet Girl in the concrete and get back a return for what she had done to his life.
Then, with a last final polish of the brush and a flick48 of the whisk-broom over his discouraged-looking uniform, he set his lips grimly, and went down-stairs, taking the precaution to fold his cap and put it into his pocket, for he might want to escape at any minute, and it was best to be prepared.
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1
gage
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| n.标准尺寸，规格；量规，量表 [=gauge] | |
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2
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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galling
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| adj.难堪的,使烦恼的,使焦躁的 | |
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4
yoke
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| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
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5
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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6
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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7
fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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8
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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9
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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10
bemoan
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| v.悲叹，哀泣，痛哭；惋惜，不满于 | |
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11
wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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12
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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13
dazedly
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| 头昏眼花地，眼花缭乱地，茫然地 | |
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14
soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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15
gustily
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| adv.暴风地，狂风地 | |
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16
suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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17
grizzly
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| adj.略为灰色的，呈灰色的；n.灰色大熊 | |
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18
grasshopper
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| n.蚱蜢，蝗虫，蚂蚱 | |
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19
urns
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| n.壶( urn的名词复数 )；瓮；缸；骨灰瓮 | |
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20
spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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21
burnished
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| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
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22
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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23
discoursing
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| 演说（discourse的现在分词形式） | |
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24
crackers
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| adj.精神错乱的，癫狂的n.爆竹( cracker的名词复数 )；薄脆饼干；（认为）十分愉快的事；迷人的姑娘 | |
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25
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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26
piazza
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| n.广场；走廊 | |
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27
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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28
nauseating
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| adj.令人恶心的，使人厌恶的v.使恶心，作呕( nauseate的现在分词 ) | |
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29
repeal
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| n.废止，撤消；v.废止，撤消 | |
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30
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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31
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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32
destitution
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| n.穷困，缺乏，贫穷 | |
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33
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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34
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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35
accustom
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| vt.使适应，使习惯 | |
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36
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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37
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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38
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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39
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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40
coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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41
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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42
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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43
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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44
conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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45
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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46
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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47
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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48
flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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