And, long before he understood what this sound was, it had stirred in him the centers of pity and alarm. He listened intently, though at first in vain, for the running blood beat all its drums too noisily in his ears. Did it come, he wondered, from the lake, or from the woods?...
Then, suddenly, with a rush and a flutter of the heart, he knew that it was close beside him in the tent; and, when he turned over for a better hearing, it focused itself unmistakably not two feet away. It was a sound of weeping; Défago upon his bed of branches was sobbing3 in the darkness as though his heart would break, the blankets evidently stuffed against his mouth to stifle4 it.
And his first feeling, before he could think or reflect, was the rush of a poignant5 and searching tenderness. This intimate, human sound, heard amid the desolation about them, woke pity. It was so incongruous, so pitifully incongruous—and so vain! Tears—in this vast and cruel wilderness6: of what avail? He thought of a little child crying in mid-Atlantic.... Then, of course, with fuller realization7, and the memory of what had gone before, came the descent of the terror upon him, and his blood ran cold.
"Défago," he whispered quickly, "what's the matter?" He tried to make his voice very gentle. "Are you in pain—unhappy—?" There was no reply, but the sounds ceased abruptly8. He stretched his hand out and touched him. The body did not stir.
"Are you awake?" for it occurred to him that the man was crying in his sleep. "Are you cold?" He noticed that his feet, which were uncovered, projected beyond the mouth of the tent. He spread an extra fold of his own blankets over them. The guide had slipped down in his bed, and the branches seemed to have been dragged with him. He was afraid to pull the body back again, for fear of waking him.
One or two tentative questions he ventured softly, but though he waited for several minutes there came no reply, nor any sign of movement. Presently he heard his regular and quiet breathing, and putting his hand again gently on the breast, felt the steady rise and fall beneath.
"Let me know if anything's wrong," he whispered, "or if I can do anything. Wake me at once if you feel—queer."
He hardly knew what to say. He lay down again, thinking and wondering what it all meant. Défago, of course, had been crying in his sleep. Some dream or other had afflicted9 him. Yet never in his life would he forget that pitiful sound of sobbing, and the feeling that the whole awful wilderness of woods listened....
His own mind busied itself for a long time with the recent events, of which this took its mysterious place as one, and though his reason successfully argued away all unwelcome suggestions, a sensation of uneasiness remained, resisting ejection, very deep-seated—peculiar beyond ordinary.
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1 lessening | |
减轻,减少,变小 | |
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2 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
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3 sobbing | |
<主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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4 stifle | |
vt.使窒息;闷死;扼杀;抑止,阻止 | |
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5 poignant | |
adj.令人痛苦的,辛酸的,惨痛的 | |
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6 wilderness | |
n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等,荒漠 | |
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7 realization | |
n.实现;认识到,深刻了解 | |
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8 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
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9 afflicted | |
使受痛苦,折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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