Robert Audley had answered this letter by a few indignant lines, informing Mr. Talboys that his son was scarcely likely to hide himself for the furtherance of any deep-laid design on the pockets of his relatives, as he had left twenty thousand pounds in his bankers' hands at the time of his disappearance. After dispatching this letter, Robert had abandoned all thought of assistance from the man who, in the natural course of things, should have been most interested in George's fate; but now that he found himself advancing every day some step nearer to the end that lay so darkly before him, his mind reverted10 to this heartlessly indifferent Mr. Harcourt Talboys.
"I will run into Dorsetshire after I leave Southampton," he said, "and see this man. If he is content to let his son's fate rest a dark and cruel mystery to all who knew him—if he is content to go down to his grave uncertain to the last of this poor fellow's end—why should I try to unravel11 the tangled12 skein, to fit the pieces of the terrible puzzle, and gather together the stray fragments which, when collected, may make such a hideous13 whole? I will go to him and lay my darkest doubts freely before him. It will be for him to say what I am to do."
Robert Audley started by an early express for Southampton. The snow lay thick and white upon the pleasant country through which he went; and the young barrister had wrapped himself in so many comforters and railway rugs as to appear a perambulating mass of woollen goods, rather than a living member of a learned profession. He looked gloomily out of the misty14 window, opaque15 with the breath of himself and an elderly Indian officer, who was his only companion, and watched the fleeting16 landscape, which had a certain phantom-like appearance in its shroud17 of snow. He wrapped himself in the vast folds of his railway rug, with a peevish18 shiver, and felt inclined to quarrel with the destiny which compelled him to travel by an early train upon a pitiless winter's day.
"Who would have thought that I could have grown so fond of the fellow," he muttered, "or feel so lonely without him? I've a comfortable little fortune in the three per cents.; I'm heir presumptive to my uncle's title; and I know of a certain dear little girl who, as I think, would do her best to make me happy; but I declare that I would freely give up all, and stand penniless in the world to-morrow, if this mystery could be satisfactorily cleared away, and George Talboys could stand by my side."
He reached Southampton between eleven and twelve o'clock, and walked across the platform, with the snow drifting in his face, toward the pier19 and the lower end of the town. The clock of St. Michael's Church was striking twelve as he crossed the quaint20 old square in which that edifice21 stands, and groped his way through the narrow streets leading down to the water.
Mr. Maldon had established his slovenly22 household gods in one of those dreary23 thoroughfares which speculative24 builders love to raise upon some miserable25 fragment of waste ground hanging to the skirts of a prosperous town. Brigsome's Terrace was, perhaps, one of the most dismal26 blocks of building that was ever composed of brick and mortar27 since the first mason plied28 his trowel and the first architect drew his plan. The builder who had speculated in the ten dreary eight-roomed prison-houses had hung himself behind the parlor29 door of an adjacent tavern30 while the carcases were yet unfinished. The man who had bought the brick and mortar skeletons had gone through the bankruptcy31 court while the paper-hangers were still busy in Brigsome's Terrace, and had whitewashed32 his ceilings and himself simultaneously33. Ill luck and insolvency34 clung to the wretched habitations. The bailiff and the broker's man were as well known as the butcher and the baker35 to the noisy children who played upon the waste ground in front of the parlor windows. Solvent36 tenants37 were disturbed at unhallowed hours by the noise of ghostly furniture vans creeping stealthily away in the moonless night. Insolvent38 tenants openly defied the collector of the water-rate from their ten-roomed strongholds, and existed for weeks without any visible means of procuring39 that necessary fluid.
Robert Audley looked about him with a shudder40 as he turned from the waterside into this poverty-stricken locality. A child's funeral was leaving one of the houses as he approached, and he thought with a thrill of horror that if the little coffin41 had held George's son, he would have been in some measure responsible for the boy's death.
"The poor child shall not sleep another night in this wretched hovel," he thought, as he knocked at the door of Mr. Maldon's house. "He is the legacy42 of my best friend, and it shall be my business to secure his safety."
A slipshod servant girl opened the door and looked at Mr. Audley rather suspiciously as she asked him, very much through her nose, what he pleased to want. The door of the little sitting room was ajar, and Robert could hear the clattering43 of knives and forks and the childish voice of little George prattling44 gayly. He told the servant that he had come from London, that he wanted to see Master Talboys, and that he would announce himself; and walking past her, without further ceremony he opened the door of the parlor. The girl stared at him aghast as he did this; and as if struck by some sudden and terrible conviction, threw her apron45 over her head and ran out into the snow. She darted46 across the waste ground, plunged47 into a narrow alley48, and never drew breath till she found herself upon the threshold of a certain tavern called the Coach and Horses, and much affected49 by Mr. Maldon. The lieutenant50's faithful retainer had taken Robert Audley for some new and determined51 collector of poor's rates—rejecting that gentleman's account of himself as an artful fiction devised for the destruction of parochial defaulters—and had hurried off to give her master timely warning of the enemy's approach.
When Robert entered the sitting-room52 he was surprised to find little George seated opposite to a woman who was doing the honors of a shabby repast, spread upon a dirty table-cloth, and flanked by a pewter beer measure. The woman rose as Robert entered, and courtesied very humbly53 to the young barrister. She looked about fifty years of age, and was dressed in rusty54 widow's weeds. Her complexion55 was insipidly56 fair, and the two smooth bands of hair beneath her cap were of that sunless, flaxen hue57 which generally accompanies pink cheeks and white eyelashes. She had been a rustic58 beauty, perhaps, in her time, but her features, although tolerably regular in their shape, had a mean, pinched look, as if they had been made too small for her face. This defect was peculiarly noticeable in her mouth, which was an obvious misfit for the set of teeth it contained. She smiled as she courtesied to Mr. Robert Audley, and her smile, which laid bare the greater part of this set of square, hungry-looking teeth, by no means added to the beauty of her personal appearance.
"Mr. Maldon is not at home, sir," she said, with insinuating59 civility; "but if it's for the water-rate, he requested me to say that—"
She was interrupted by little George Talboys, who scrambled60 down from the high chair upon which he had been perched, and ran to Robert Audley.
"I know you," he said; "you came to Ventnor with the big gentleman, and you came here once, and you gave me some money, and I gave it to gran'pa to take care of, and gran'pa kept it, and he always does."
Robert Audley took the boy in his arms, and carried him to a little table in the window.
"Stand there, Georgey," he said, "I want to have a good look at you."
He turned the boy's face to the light, and pushed the brown curls off his forehead with both hands.
"You are growing more like your father every day, Georgey; and you're growing quite a man, too," he said; "would you like to go to school?"
"Oh, yes, please, I should like it very much," the boy answered, eagerly. "I went to school at Miss Pevins' once—day-school, you know—round the corner in the next street; but I caught the measles61, and gran'pa wouldn't let me go any more, for fear I should catch the measles again; and gran'pa won't let me play with the little boys in the street, because they're rude boys; he said blackguard boys; but he said I mustn't say blackguard boys, because it's naughty. He says damn and devil, but he says he may because he's old. I shall say damn and devil when I'm old; and I should like to go to school, please, and I can go to-day, if you like; Mrs. Plowson will get my frocks ready, won't you, Mrs. Plowson?"
"Certainly, Master Georgey, if your grandpapa wishes it," the woman answered, looking rather uneasily at Mr. Robert Audley.
"What on earth is the matter with this woman," thought Robert as he turned from the boy to the fair-haired widow, who was edging herself slowly toward the table upon which little George Talboys stood talking to his guardian62. "Does she still take me for a tax-collector with inimical intentions toward these wretched goods and chattels63; or can the cause of her fidgety manner lie deeper still. That's scarcely likely, though; for whatever secrets Lieutenant Maldon may have, it's not very probable that this woman has any knowledge of them."
Mrs. Plowson had edged herself close to the little table by this time, and was making a stealthy descent upon the boy, when Robert turned sharply round.
"What are you going to do with the child?" he said.
"I was only going to take him away to wash his pretty face, sir, and smooth his hair," answered the woman, in the most insinuating tone in which she had spoken of the water-rate. "You don't see him to any advantage, sir, while his precious face is dirty. I won't be five minutes making him as neat as a new pin."
She had her long, thin arms about the boy as she spoke64, and she was evidently going to carry him off bodily, when Robert stopped her.
"I'd rather see him as he is, thank you," he said. "My time in Southampton isn't very long, and I want to hear all that the little man can tell me."
The little man crept closer to Robert, and looked confidingly65 into the barrister's gray eyes.
"I like you very much," he said. "I was frightened of you when you came before, because I was shy. I am not shy now—I am nearly six years old."
Robert patted the boy's head encouragingly, but he was not looking at little George; he was watching the fair-haired widow, who had moved to the window, and was looking out at the patch of waste ground.
"You're rather fidgety about some one, ma'am, I'm afraid," said Robert.
She colored violently as the barrister made this remark, and answered him in a confused manner.
"I was looking for Mr. Maldon, sir," she said; "he'll be so disappointed if he doesn't see you."
"You know who I am, then?"
"No, sir, but—"
The boy interrupted her by dragging a little jeweled watch from his bosom66 and showing it to Robert.
"This is the watch the pretty lady gave me," he said. "I've got it now—but I haven't had it long, because the jeweler who cleans it is an idle man, gran'pa says, and always keeps it such a long time; and gran'pa says it will have to be cleaned again, because of the taxes. He always takes it to be cleaned when there's taxes—but he says if he were to lose it the pretty lady would give me another. Do you know the pretty lady?"
"No, Georgey, but tell me about her."
Mrs. Plowson made another descent upon the boy. She was armed with a pocket-handkerchief this time, and displayed great anxiety about the state of little George's nose, but Robert warded67 off the dreaded68 weapon, and drew the child away from his tormentor69.
"The boy will do very well, ma'am," he said, "if you'll be good enough to let him alone for five minutes. Now, Georgey, suppose you sit on my knee, and tell me all about the pretty lady."
The child clambered from the table onto Mr. Audley's knees, assisting his descent by a very unceremonious manipulation of his guardian's coat-collar.
"I'll tell you all about the pretty lady," he said, "because I like you very much. Gran'pa told me not to tell anybody, but I'll tell you, you know, because I like you, and because you're going to take me to school. The pretty lady came here one night—long ago—oh, so long ago," said the boy, shaking his head, with a face whose solemnity was expressive70 of some prodigious71 lapse of time. "She came when I was not nearly so big as I am now—and she came at night—after I'd gone to bed, and she came up into my room, and sat upon the bed, and cried—and she left the watch under my pillow, and she—Why do you make faces at me, Mrs. Plowson? I may tell this gentleman," Georgey added, suddenly addressing the widow, who was standing72 behind Robert's shoulder.
Mrs. Plowson mumbled73 some confused apology to the effect that she was afraid Master George was troublesome.
"Suppose you wait till I say so, ma'am, before you stop the little fellow's mouth," said Robert Audley, sharply. "A suspicious person might think from your manner that Mr. Maldon and you had some conspiracy74 between you, and that you were afraid of what the boy's talk may let slip."
He rose from his chair, and looked full at Mrs. Plowson as he said this. The fair-haired widow's face was as white as her cap when she tried to answer him, and her pale lips were so dry that she was compelled to wet them with her tongue before the words would come.
The little boy relieved her embarrassment75.
"Don't be cross to Mrs. Plowson," he said. "Mrs. Plowson is very kind to me. Mrs. Plowson is Matilda's mother. You don't know Matilda. Poor Matilda was always crying; she was ill, she—"
The boy was stopped by the sudden appearance of Mr. Maldon, who stood on the threshold of the parlor door staring at Robert Audley with a half-drunken, half-terrified aspect, scarcely consistent with the dignity of a retired76 naval77 officer. The servant girl, breathless and panting, stood close behind her master. Early in the day though it was, the old man's speech was thick and confused, as he addressed himself fiercely to Mrs. Plowson.
"You're a prett' creature to call yoursel' sensible woman?" he said. "Why don't you take th' chile 'way, er wash 's face? D'yer want to ruin me? D'yer want to 'stroy me? Take th' chile 'way! Mr. Audley, sir, I'm ver' glad to see yer; ver' 'appy to 'ceive yer in m' humbl' 'bode," the old man added with tipsy politeness, dropping into a chair as he spoke, and trying to look steadily78 at his unexpected visitor.
"Whatever this man's secrets are," thought Robert, as Mrs. Plowson hustled79 little George Talboys out of the room, "that woman has no unimportant share of them. Whatever the mystery may be, it grows darker and thicker at every step; but I try in vain to draw back or to stop short upon the road, for a stronger hand than my own is pointing the way to my lost friend's unknown grave."
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
disappearance
|
|
| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
lapse
|
|
| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
preposterous
|
|
| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
postscript
|
|
| n.附言，又及；(正文后的)补充说明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
thereby
|
|
| adv.因此，从而 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
pecuniary
|
|
| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
egregiously
|
|
| adv.过份地，卓越地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
reverted
|
|
| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
unravel
|
|
| v.弄清楚（秘密）；拆开，解开，松开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
tangled
|
|
| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
hideous
|
|
| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
misty
|
|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
opaque
|
|
| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
fleeting
|
|
| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
shroud
|
|
| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
peevish
|
|
| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
pier
|
|
| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
quaint
|
|
| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
edifice
|
|
| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
slovenly
|
|
| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
speculative
|
|
| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
dismal
|
|
| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
mortar
|
|
| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
plied
|
|
| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
parlor
|
|
| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
tavern
|
|
| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
bankruptcy
|
|
| n.破产；无偿付能力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
whitewashed
|
|
| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
simultaneously
|
|
| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
insolvency
|
|
| n.无力偿付，破产 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
baker
|
|
| n.面包师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
solvent
|
|
| n.溶剂；adj.有偿付能力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
tenants
|
|
| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
insolvent
|
|
| adj.破产的，无偿还能力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
procuring
|
|
| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的现在分词 )；拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
coffin
|
|
| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
legacy
|
|
| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
clattering
|
|
| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
prattling
|
|
| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的现在分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
apron
|
|
| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
darted
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
alley
|
|
| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
lieutenant
|
|
| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
sitting-room
|
|
| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
humbly
|
|
| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
rusty
|
|
| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
complexion
|
|
| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
insipidly
|
|
| adv.没有味道地，清淡地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
57
hue
|
|
| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
rustic
|
|
| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
insinuating
|
|
| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
scrambled
|
|
| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
measles
|
|
| n.麻疹，风疹，包虫病，痧子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
guardian
|
|
| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
chattels
|
|
| n.动产，奴隶( chattel的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
confidingly
|
|
| adv.信任地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
warded
|
|
| 有锁孔的，有钥匙榫槽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
dreaded
|
|
| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
tormentor
|
|
| n. 使苦痛之人, 使苦恼之物, 侧幕 =tormenter | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
expressive
|
|
| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
prodigious
|
|
| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
mumbled
|
|
| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
conspiracy
|
|
| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
embarrassment
|
|
| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
naval
|
|
| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
hustled
|
|
| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |