N spite of his enforced potations, Lewis Raycie was up the next morning before sunrise.
Unlatching his shutters1 without noise, he looked forth2 over the wet lawn merged3 in a blur4 of shrubberies, and the waters of the Sound dimly seen beneath a sky full of stars. His head ached but his heart glowed; what was before him was thrilling enough to clear a heavier brain than his.
He dressed quickly and completely (save for his shoes), and then, stripping the flowered quilt from his high mahogany bed, rolled it in a tight bundle under his arm. Thus enigmatically equipped he
{29}
was feeling his way, shoes in hand, through the darkness of the upper story to the slippery oak stairs, when he was startled by a candle-gleam in the pitch-blackness of the hall below. He held his breath, and leaning over the stair-rail saw with amazement5 his sister Mary Adeline come forth, cloaked and bonneted6, but also in stocking-feet, from the passage leading to the pantry. She too carried a double burden: her shoes and the candle in one hand, in the other a large covered basket that weighed down her bare arm.
Brother and sister stopped and stared at each other in the blue dusk: the upward slant8 of the candle-light distorted Mary Adeline’s mild features, twisting them into a frightened grin as Lewis stole down to join her.
“Oh—” she whispered. “What in the world are you doing here? I was just
{30}
getting together a few things for that poor young Mrs. Poe down the lane, who’s so ill—before mother goes to the storeroom. You won’t tell, will you?”
Lewis signalled his complicity, and cautiously slid open the bolt of the front door. They durst not say more till they were out of ear-shot. On the doorstep they sat down to put on their shoes; then they hastened on without a word through the ghostly shrubberies till they reached the gate into the lane.
“But you, Lewis?” the sister suddenly questioned, with an astonished stare at the rolled-up quilt under her brother’s arm.
“Oh, I—. Look here, Addy—” he broke off and began to grope in his pocket—“I haven’t much about me ... the old gentleman keeps me as close
{31}
as ever ... but here’s a dollar, if you think that poor Mrs. Poe could use it ... I’d be too happy ... consider it a privilege....”
“Oh, Lewis, Lewis, how noble, how generous of you! Of course I can buy a few extra things with it ... they never see meat unless I can bring them a bit, you know ... and I fear she’s dying of a decline ... and she and her mother are so fiery-proud....” She wept with gratitude9, and Lewis drew a breath of relief. He had diverted her attention from the bed-quilt.
“Ah, there’s the breeze,” he murmured, sniffing10 the suddenly chilled air.
“Yes; I must be off; I must be back before the sun is up,” said Mary Adeline anxiously, “and it would never do if mother knew—”
“She doesn’t know of your visits to Mrs. Poe?”
A look of childish guile11 sharpened Mary Adeline’s undeveloped face.
{32}
“She does, of course; but yet she doesn’t ... we’ve arranged it so. You see, Mr. Poe’s an Atheist12; and so father—”
“I see,” Lewis nodded. “Well, we part here; I’m off for a swim,” he said glibly13. But abruptly14 he turned back and caught his sister’s arm. “Sister, tell Mrs. Poe, please, that I heard her husband give a reading from his poems in New York two nights ago—”
(“Oh, Lewis—you? But father says he’s a blasphemer!”)
“—And that he’s a great poet—a Great Poet. Tell her that from me, will you, please, Mary Adeline?”
“Oh, brother, I couldn’t ... we never speak of him,” the startled girl faltered15, hurrying away.
In the cove7 where the Commodore’s sloop16 had ridden a few hours earlier a biggish rowing-boat took the waking ripples17.
{33}
Young Raycie paddled out to her, fastened his skiff to the moorings, and hastily clambered into the boat.
From various recesses18 of his pockets he produced rope, string, a carpet-layer’s needle, and other unexpected and incongruous tackle; then, lashing19 one of the oars20 across the top of the other, and jamming the latter upright between the forward thwart21 and the bow, he rigged the flowered bed-quilt on this mast, knotted a rope to the free end of the quilt, and sat down in the stern, one hand on the rudder, the other on his improvised22 sheet.
Venus, brooding silverly above a line of pale green sky, made a pool of glory in the sea as the dawn-breeze plumped the lover’s sail....
On the shelving pebbles23 of another cove, two or three miles down the Sound,
{34}
Lewis Raycie lowered his queer sail and beached his boat. A clump24 of willows25 on the shingle-edge mysteriously stirred and parted, and Treeshy Kent was in his arms.
The sun was just pushing above a belt of low clouds in the east, spattering them with liquid gold, and Venus blanched26 as the light spread upward. But under the willows it was still dusk, a watery27 green dusk in which the secret murmurs28 of the night were caught.
“Treeshy—Treeshy!” the young man cried, kneeling beside her—and then, a moment later: “My angel, are you sure that no one guesses—?”
The girl gave a faint laugh which screwed up her funny nose. She leaned her head on his shoulder, her round forehead and rough braids pressed against his cheek, her hands in his, breathing quickly and joyfully29.
{35}
“I thought I should never get here,” Lewis grumbled30, “with that ridiculous bed-quilt—and it’ll be broad day soon! To think that I was of age yesterday, and must come to you in a boat rigged like a child’s toy on a duck-pond! If you knew how it humiliates31 me—”
“What does it matter, dear, since you’re of age now, and your own master?”
“But am I, though? He says so—but it’s only on his own terms; only while I do what he wants! You’ll see ... I’ve a credit of ten thousand dollars ... ten ... thou ... sand ... d’you hear?... placed to my name in a London bank; and not a penny here to bless myself with meanwhile.... Why, Treeshy darling, why, what’s the matter?”
She flung her arms about his neck, and through their innocent kisses he could
{36}
taste her tears. “What is it, Treeshy?” he implored32 her.
“I ... oh, I’d forgotten it was to be our last day together till you spoke33 of London—cruel, cruel!” she reproached him; and through the green twilight34 of the willows her eyes blazed on him like two stormy stars. No other eyes he knew could express such elemental rage as Treeshy’s.
“You little spitfire, you!” he laughed back somewhat chokingly. “Yes, it’s our last day—but not for long; at our age two years are not so very long, after all, are they? And when I come back to you I’ll come as my own master, independent, free—come to claim you in face of everything and everybody! Think of that, darling, and be brave for my sake ... brave and patient ... as I mean to be!” he declared heroically.
{37}
“Oh, but you—you’ll see other girls; heaps and heaps of them; in those wicked old countries where they’re so lovely. My uncle Kent says the European countries are all wicked, even my own poor Italy....”
“But you, Treeshy; you’ll be seeing cousins Bill and Donald meanwhile—seeing them all day long and every day. And you know you’ve a weakness for that great hulk of a Bill. Ah, if only I stood six-foot-one in my stockings I’d go with an easier heart, you fickle35 child!” he tried to banter36 her.
“Fickle? Fickle? Me—oh, Lewis!”
He felt the premonitory sweep of sobs37, and his untried courage failed him. It was delicious, in theory, to hold weeping beauty to one’s breast, but terribly alarming, he found, in practice. There came a responsive twitching38 in his throat.
{38}
“No, no; firm as adamant39, true as steel; that’s what we both mean to be, isn’t it, cara?”
“Caro, yes,” she sighed, appeased40.
“And you’ll write to me regularly, Treeshy—long long letters? I may count on that, mayn’t I, wherever I am? And they must all be numbered, every one of them, so that I shall know at once if I’ve missed one; remember!”
“And, Lewis, you’ll wear them here?” (She touched his breast.) “Oh, not all,” she added, laughing, “for they’d make such a big bundle that you’d soon have a hump in front like Pulcinella—but always at least the last one, just the last one. Promise!”
“Always, I promise—as long as they’re kind,” he said, still struggling to take a spirited line.
{39}
“Oh, Lewis, they will be, as long as yours are—and long long afterward41....”
Venus failed and vanished in the sun’s uprising.
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收听单词发音
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1
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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2
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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3
merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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4
blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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5
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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6
bonneted
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| 发动机前置的 | |
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7
cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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8
slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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9
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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10
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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11
guile
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| n.诈术 | |
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12
atheist
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| n.无神论者 | |
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13
glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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14
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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15
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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16
sloop
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| n.单桅帆船 | |
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17
ripples
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| 逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
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18
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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19
lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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20
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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21
thwart
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| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
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22
improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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23
pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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24
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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25
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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26
blanched
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| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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27
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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28
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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29
joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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30
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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31
humiliates
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| 使蒙羞，羞辱，使丢脸( humiliate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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32
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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33
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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34
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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35
fickle
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| adj.(爱情或友谊上)易变的，不坚定的 | |
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36
banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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37
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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38
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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39
adamant
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| adj.坚硬的，固执的 | |
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40
appeased
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| 安抚，抚慰( appease的过去式和过去分词 )； 绥靖（满足另一国的要求以避免战争） | |
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41
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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