The note was sent in to Miss Osric, when Lady Frederica had glanced through it over her early cup of tea, and governess and pupil read it together.
Sydney was looking pale and heavy-eyed this morning, Miss Osric saw, and guessed that Lord St. Quentin had said something to distress1 the girl. It was a bright sunny morning, with that exhilaration in the air which only a perfect winter’s day has the power to give.
“Suppose, as you have no master coming
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this morning, we go out for a walk as soon as we have read a little, Sydney dear?” Miss Osric suggested. “It is such a lovely morning, and you look tired. I think the air would do you good.”
“I have a little headache,” Sydney owned, and they set out for their walk at about 10.30.
The frost was thick in the park, and every little twig2 upon the great bare trees outlined clearly against a sky of pale cloudless blue. Sydney wondered why she did not feel the old exhilaration that a morning such as this would have once awakened3 in her, even in smoky London.
But if she could not enjoy the perfect morning, they soon met somebody who could!
As they passed the gate of the Vicarage, Mr. Seaton came out, holding Pauly by the hand. The child was in a state of absolutely wild delight, dancing and jumping by his father’s side, and his eyes glittering like two stars under the tangle5 of red hair.
“Going up the great big ’normous tower!” he informed Sydney, as she stooped to kiss him. “Going to walk miles and miles and miles up ladders, almost to the sky!”
The Vicar laughed and shook hands with both the girls.
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“I have to give some orders about new bell-ropes; ours were rotten, and I’ve had them taken down,” he explained. “And it was an old promise I should take this monkey up the tower next time I had to go there. Do you two feel inclined, I wonder, to come with us, and walk ‘miles and miles and miles up ladders, almost to the sky’?”
Sydney looked at the tower, standing6 grey and tall outlined sharply on the blue, and then at Miss Osric. “Should you like it? It would be lovely, I think.”
“We should like to go up very much indeed, if Mr. Seaton doesn’t mind the bother of us,” said Miss Osric, and the four went on together to Lislehurst Church at the farther end of the village.
The church itself had been rebuilt in the eighteenth century, when the black oak panelling had been removed as “dirty-looking” and replaced by whitewash7, and relieved at intervals8 by the St. Quentin Arms painted on it in the gaudiest9 colours. At the same time, the few bits of exquisite10 stained glass which had survived a visit from the “root and branch” men of the Commonwealth11 days had been taken away to make room for a complete set of crudely coloured windows, which vexed12 the soul of Mr.
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Seaton whenever his eyes fell upon them. But the old tower had been left intact, and was considered by the learned to be one of the finest specimens13 of fourteenth century architecture left in England.
There was a tradition that the saintly Bishop14 Ken4 had once climbed it, and had pronounced the view from the top to be “a foretaste of Heaven.”
Sydney, when she saw the perpendicular15 ladders tied together, which those who went beyond the belfry chamber16 were compelled to climb, doubted privately17 the probability of anyone so old and frail18 as the non-juring Bishop had grown when he came to Blankshire, having strength or breath to reach the summit!
“You are not frightened, are you?” asked the Vicar, when he had given his orders to the man awaiting him in the belfry chamber, now emptied of its dangling19 ropes. “Don’t try it, if you feel in the least bit nervous, for it is a stiffish climb!”
To be quite honest, Sydney did not particularly like the look of the many ladders to be scaled, but she would have died sooner than own her fears.
After all, this was not so very much more difficult than going up the ladders in that oast-house
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in Kent, where they had gone to see the men stamp out a hop-pocket, when the whole family had spent that happy fortnight in a Kentish farm-house last summer. Only then Hugh had been there to help her, and pull her up that awkward step where two rungs had gone from the ladder. Her back was to the Vicar, but Miss Osric saw the sudden wistfulness in the girl’s grey eyes.
“Well, come on, if you really don’t feel nervous,” Mr. Seaton said. “Oh, Hiram,” as the old clerk came stumbling down the ladders at the sound of their voices, “you here? That’s just as well. Now you can go up in front and get the little tower door open for the ladies.”
“Gentleman up the tower now, sir,” Hiram said, touching20 his battered21 hat.
“All right; he won’t interfere22 with us,” the Vicar said. “Now, Miss Lisle, will you go first, and take Hiram’s hand where the ladders cross. Miss Osric, you next. Then Pauly. Hold tight, you little monkey, or I’ll take you down again! I’ll bring up the rear, and then if anybody slips, I’ll catch them.”
The procession started, Mr. Seaton keeping a firm grip of his small son’s blouse the whole time, and calling at intervals directions to the others.
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Up, up they went, clinging to the ladders set perpendicularly23 against the rough grey walls, worn with the lapse24 of time. Higher and higher still they went, till Sydney and Miss Osric felt as though they had been climbing for hours instead of minutes.
The elders had no breath for speech, but little Pauly chattered25 unceasingly. “Did these funny stairs go right up into Heaven? Would there be angels at the top of the tower? Would there be stars? Would there be at least a hole through which Pauly might look into Heaven when he came so near it?”
Sydney could hear his shrill26 little voice talking on, and his father’s grave tones answering him now and then. As they came higher the echoes caught up the two voices and made the old tower ring with them in a way that sounded strange and very eerie27, Sydney thought.
“Getting tired, Miss Lisle?” called the Vicar cheerily, as she set foot on the highest ladder.
His words must have been heard by “the gentleman” of whom old Hiram had spoken, for a square of blue and sunshine opened suddenly above her, and, as she toiled29 up the final rungs, a hand, whose touch was certainly
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familiar, grasped hers, and swung her over that last awkward step, where she seemed to hang over a yawning black gulf30 for a moment, before landing upon terra firma outside the tower.
“Hugh!” She had forgotten everything for the moment, except the joy of seeing him again, but in an instant, like a bitter wind, her cousin’s words swept back upon her—“I forbid you to have anything to do with that young man.”
Hugh could not think why she withdrew her hand, and went back to the little low tower door with a cloud on the face that had been so bright a minute since. “How slow the others are in getting up!” she said.
Hugh watched her uneasily, as she gave her hand to Miss Osric and helped her through the doorway31; then proceeded to the same office for little Pauly. Surely it was very unlike Sydney to have nothing to say to him, to be absorbed in these comparative strangers, when he was at her elbow. Surely her manner had changed with extraordinary speed since yesterday.
She on her part had been rapidly considering the situation. It was plainly impossible to go down the tower again the very minute
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after she had come up it. What excuse could she make that had the slightest sound of reason? None, she was quite aware. Plainly the only thing that she could do was to obey her cousin’s order in the spirit though not in the letter.
She was rather pale, but her voice was steady as she bent32 over little Pauly, devoting herself to answering his many questions.
Mr. Seaton talked to Miss Osric and to Hugh, who answered him a little absently. His eyes were fixed33 on Sydney. The Vicar looked from one to the other in a rather puzzled way from time to time, as he did the honours of the splendid view that lay before them.
Glimpses of the Castle showed through its encircling trees, but in summer, Mr. Seaton said, when all the leaves were out, it was completely hidden.
He pointed34 out in succession the quaint35 little villages, dotted at intervals about the valley, with some interesting comment upon each. There was Loam36, which boasted the finest chancel-screen in the county. Miss Lisle and Miss Osric ought to see it one of these bright days: it was most distinctly worth the trouble of a visit. That tiny church, with a tower that looked as though some giant had sat upon it long ago, was Marston. Did Mr.
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Chichester remember a humorous account in the papers two or three years back, of a famous “kill” which had taken place in Marston churchyard, when the fox had taken refuge in one of the old stone box tombs, and held the narrow entry, worn by age and weather in the stone, for full an hour?
Styles and Hurstleigh lay out yonder; it was in Hurstleigh that the Manor37 stood, which a loyal lady of the Civil Wars had defended against General Ireton, till relieved by her husband just as the little garrison38 were reduced to the last straits.
At another time Sydney would have been immensely interested in the story, but to-day somehow she could not care even to see the place where Madam Courtenay caught the first glimpse of the scarlet39 mantled40 horsemen, riding to her succour only just in time.
She could not put herself to-day into the place of the cavalier lady and rejoice with her; she could only feel herself, Sydney Lisle, behaving in a horrid41, stiff, unkind way to the brother Hugh, who kept looking at her with those troubled, questioning eyes.
Miss Osric was the only member of the party who really enjoyed Mr. Seaton’s explanations, for little Pauly thought them dull to the
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last degree. He wanted to know several things, and no one would attend to his shrill questions. Sydney was looking where Mr. Seaton pointed, with unseeing eyes, and his father took no notice of various impatient tugs42 at his hand. Pauly wanted dreadfully to know why the sky had gone away again, instead of being quite near as he had expected, and whether mother and the angels would hear him if he were to call up to them very loudly, now this minute, and whether a big man, who was big enough to lean over the stone parapet of the tower which his own head barely reached, could see “In Memory of Rose” on the white marble cross in the churchyard down below.
Hugh, to pacify43 him, looked over, and pronounced that he could see “no end of crosses.”
But this by no means satisfied Pauly. Hugh must see that special grave where Daddy took him every Sunday, after service.
“Tell me where to look,” Hugh said; “but you keep still, young man, if you please. Don’t you go trying to lean over!”
He stared down. “Is your cross a tall one, near a tree?” he asked presently. Pauly gave a bound of delight.
“Yes, that’s where ‘In memorwy of Wose’ is. Do you see the lovely holly44 on the grave?
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I stuck lots in the tin, I did weally, and my fingers was all bleedy after. I didn’t mind. Boys don’t mind being bleedy. ’Spect that big girl that you keep on looking at would mind. Girls cwy when they’re bleedy, don’t they? Do you cwy? I s’pose not,’cause you’re a big man. Did you see my lovely holly? No, you won’t see where you are. Oh, look! You can see my lovely holly this side of the tower as well.”
“I say—stand still!” Hugh said sharply, turning his head round. Pauly, in a state of wild excitement, was climbing up the three-foot parapet as nimbly as a cat. “Get down!” Hugh shouted, springing to his feet, and darting45 over to the child. He spoke28 too late.
Pauly had reached the top, and was kneeling on it, peering down upon his “lovely holly.” “Oh, I can see it! I can see my holly!” he screamed joyfully46, clinging and laughing.
Whether the height turned him giddy, or he lost his balance by leaning too far, no one knew. There was only time for a cry of horror, and a frantic47 grasp into emptiness upon Hugh’s part. The child had fallen from the parapet!
The poor father staggered backward, his hand to his head—the two girls clung together, speechless; only Hugh was able to
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look over. The next moment he was shaking Mr. Seaton fiercely by the shoulder.
“Quick, sir! Down and cut the belfry ropes. Please God, we’ll save him yet!”
The Vicar, scarcely able to believe his ears, looked over.
Some nine feet down the tower, at each corner, a large projecting gargoyle48 served the purpose of a water-spout, and it was on one of these little Pauly had fallen—the creature’s stone ear having caught his blouse as he bumped against it in his fall. He was lying on his back across the gargoyle’s neck, his legs and head swinging into space, his frock hitched49 half across the hideous50 head. He was still at the moment, but how long would he remain so? Below him was a drop of seventy feet.
Hugh flung off his coat, and put his leg over the parapet. “Hurry with the ropes; I’ll go to him.”
“No, no, not you!” the Vicar cried. “I must.”
But Hugh was already letting himself down. “Quick with the ropes!” was all he said.
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“‘Quick with the ropes!’ was all he said.”
(Page 128)
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Sydney and Miss Osric looked at one another. “The belfry ropes are gone!”
Before they had finished speaking, Mr. Seaton was tearing in a neck-or-nothing fashion
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down the ladders. It was well for him that he was forced to act, and not wait to think. Ropes must be got, and immediately, for what ladder would be long enough? He did not even cast one glance back at the tower as he rushed through the churchyard in search of a rope.
There was nothing that Miss Osric and Sydney had the power to do but wait and pray. They clung to one another silently, with set, white faces, as Hugh commenced his difficult and dangerous descent, with one eye on the little figure, which might move and be dashed from its precarious51 resting-place at any moment. Was the child stunned52? Hugh almost hoped he might be. Any movement must almost certainly be fatal to his balance.
But as the young man felt carefully his third step in that perilous53 climb, there was a quiver in the dark blue bundle on the gargoyle, and a scared little face was uplifted to his. The hearts of the girls above stood still.
Hugh was struggling desperately54 for a foothold which it seemed impossible to find. Would the child move, or look down? Should he do so, nothing could save him.
“It’s all right, old chap!” Hugh called in his cheeriest tone. “You just keep still where you are. Yes, that’s right; now look at me.
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I’m coming down to take you up again. No, don’t try and sit up—you can see me splendidly from where you are.”
His voice broke off, as he all but lost both hold and footing. He regained55 it with a frantic struggle and descended56 another step. “Look at me, Pauly!”
Pauly’s round eyes gazed up wonderingly. Hugh neared the gargoyle, and set his teeth for a mighty57 effort.
Pauly was a particularly large and strong boy for not quite five years old, and, even on firm ground, would be no joke to lift in one hand. But the thing must be done. Hugh strengthened his hold with his right hand, and took an anxious downward glance. Some of the village men were trying to join ladders, but they were far too short. Mr. Seaton was running frantically58 up the road beyond the churchyard, with a coil of rope on his arm. In the clear air Hugh could see his upturned face, dead white, with eyes staring wildly.
He could not possibly get through the churchyard and up the tower in less than ten minutes—Hugh thought he would probably take longer. It was not therefore possible to risk leaving Pauly on the gargoyle till he himself should have the help of a rope.
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He took the firmest grip he could of the roughened stonework of the tower with feet and right hand, and loosed cautiously the other, reaching with it towards the blue bundle on the gargoyle. “Steady, Pauly, keep quite still, old chap!”
With a struggle that brought beads59 of perspiration60 out upon his forehead and nearly sent him flying into space, he grasped the child, and raised him slowly from his resting-place; then stepped down on to the gargoyle, and stood there, clasping Pauly closely, and leaning back against the wall with closed eyes.
He was too physically61 exhausted62 with the terrible anxiety and effort of the last few minutes to make any further movement then. Besides, it was now a necessity to wait for the rope. The upward climb would be impossible when burdened by the well-grown boy.
He had to concentrate all his powers on keeping steady on the slender foothold, which was all the gargoyle afforded, and waiting for the help which Mr. Seaton would bring.
It seemed hours before a shout from above came down cheerily to him, and a rope end struck him on the shoulder. “Now, Pauly,” he said, “hold on round my neck for all you’re worth, there’s a good little chap!”
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He took a firm grip of the child’s blouse in his teeth, and, steadying himself with infinite difficulty, fastened the rope beneath his own arms, in the strongest knots that he could make. Then, using his hands as a trumpet63, he called “Ready!”
His left arm was round Pauly, his right grasped the rope above his head. “Now hold tight, little chap, and don’t be frightened!”
Pauly carried out this order by taking as good a grip as the hair-cutter allowed of Hugh’s head, and it was in this position that the two were at length hauled over the parapet by the united strength of the Vicar, Hiram, and the Vicarage gardener, whom Mr. Seaton had met while searching for a rope.
Mr. Seaton wrung64 Hugh’s hand in silence, and held his son to him, in silence also. No one seemed to have much voice for speech just then; even Pauly was subdued65 and shaken by his fall, though he had escaped with nothing worse than grazed knees.
The descent from the tower was very quiet and sober. A strong shudder66 went through the party as they passed the belfry chamber and thought about the awful moment when they had realised that the ropes were gone.
His father carried Pauly, and Hugh went
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in front of Sydney and Miss Osric, and gave them his hand where the ladders turned. He and Sydney never spoke the whole way down.
They were in the churchyard at last, and Pauly was demanding to be shown “the funny little step where me and him was standing.” The Vicar, shivering, hushed him, and turned to Hugh. “You’ll come in and lunch with me?” he said, a little huskily, his hand upon the young man’s shoulder.
“Thank you, I will,” Hugh answered gravely.
“And, Sydney, we must hurry back,” Miss Osric suggested. “I am sure it is getting late.”
Sydney moved a step away; then took a sudden resolution.
She went to Hugh and held out her hand. “Good-bye, Hugh. Please understand,” she said very low.
Hugh took the little gloved hand in his, and read rightly the trouble in her eyes.
“It’s all right—don’t you bother, Syd,” he said. “I understand.”
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1
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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2
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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3
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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5
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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6
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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7
whitewash
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| v.粉刷，掩饰；n.石灰水，粉刷，掩饰 | |
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8
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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9
gaudiest
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| adj.花哨的，俗气的( gaudy的最高级 ) | |
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10
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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11
commonwealth
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| n.共和国，联邦，共同体 | |
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12
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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13
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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14
bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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15
perpendicular
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| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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18
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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19
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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20
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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21
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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22
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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perpendicularly
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| adv. 垂直地, 笔直地, 纵向地 | |
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24
lapse
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| 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 | |
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25
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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26
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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28
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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29
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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30
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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31
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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32
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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33
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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35
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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loam
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| n.沃土 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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39
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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40
mantled
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| 披着斗篷的，覆盖着的 | |
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41
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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42
tugs
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| n.猛拉( tug的名词复数 )；猛拖；拖船v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的第三人称单数 ) | |
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43
pacify
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| vt.使(某人)平静(或息怒)；抚慰 | |
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44
holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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45
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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46
joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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47
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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48
gargoyle
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| n.笕嘴 | |
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hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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63
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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64
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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65
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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