She rose early because she had passed a restless, miserable7 night, also her head ached and she longed for fresh air. It was still dark, but Margaï was astir, and a bright fire was blazing in the kitchen when Nicolette came down. She was not hungry, but to please Margaï she drank some warm milk and ate the home-made bread, and when the cold morning light first
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peeped in through the open window, she set out for a walk.
She went down the terraced gradients into the valley, and turned to wander up the river bank, keeping her shawl closely wrapped around her shoulders, as it was very cold. The Lèze, swelled8 by the early winter’s rains, tossed and tumbled in its bed with fretful turbulence9. The snow lay deep in untidy little heaps in all sorts of unexpected nooks and crannies, but the smooth surfaces of the boulders10 were shiny with dewy frost and the blades of the rough grass were heavy with moisture.
The air was very still, and slowly the silvery dawn crept up behind the canopy12 of clouds, and transformed it into a neutral tinted13 veil that hung loosely over the irregular heights of Luberon and concealed14 the light that lay beyond. One by one the terraced slopes emerged from the pall4 of night, and the moist blades of grass turned to strings15 of tiny diamonds. A pallid5 argent hue16 lay over mountain and valley, and every leaf of every tree became a looking-glass that mirrored the colourless opalescence17 of the sky.
When Nicolette started out for this early morning walk she had no thought of meeting
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Bertrand. Indeed she had no thought of anything beyond a desire to be alone, and to still the restlessness which had kept her awake all night. Anon she reached the pool and the great boulder11 that marked the boundary of Paul et Virginie’s island, and she came to a halt beside the carob tree on the spot hallowed by all the cherished memories of the past.
And suddenly she saw Bertrand.
He too had wandered along the valley by the bank of the stream, and Nicolette felt that it was her intense longing18 for him that had brought him hither to this land of yore.
How it all came about she could not have told you. Bertrand looked as if he had not slept: his eyes were ringed with purple, he was hatless, and his hair clung dishevelled and moist against his forehead. Nicolette led the way to the old olive tree, and there they stood together for awhile, and she made him tell her all about himself. At first it seemed as if it hurt him to speak at all, but gradually his reserve appeared to fall away from him: he talked more and more freely! he spoke19 of his love for Rixende, how it had sprung into being at first sight of her: he spoke of the growth of his love through days of ardour and nights of longing, when, blind to all save the
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beauty of her, he would have laid down his life to hold her in his arms. He also spoke of that awful day of humiliation20 and of misery21 when he dragged himself on his knees at her feet like an abject22 beggar imploring23 one crumb24 of pity, and saw his love spurned25, his ideal shattered, and his father’s shame flung into his face like a soiled rag.
What he had been unable to say to his mother he appeared to speak of with real relief to Nicolette. He seemed like a man groaning26 under a heavy load, who is gradually being eased of his burden. He owned that for hours after that terrible day he had been a prey27 to black despair: it was only the thought of his father’s disgrace and of his mother’s grief that kept him from the contemplation of suicide. But his career was ended: soon those harpies, who were counting on his wealthy marriage to exact their pound of flesh from him, would fall on him like a cloud of locusts28, and to the sorrow in his heart would be added the dishonour29 of his name. His happiness had fled on the wings of disappointment and disillusion30.
“The Rixende whom I loved,” he said, “never existed. She was just a creation of my own brain, born of a dream. The woman who jeered31 at me because I loved her and had
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nothing to offer her but my love, was a stranger whom I had never known.”
Was it at that precise moment that the thought took shape in her mind, or had it always been there? Always? When she used to run after him and thrust her baby hand into his palm? Or when she gazed up-stream, pretending that the Lèze was the limitless ocean, on which never a ship appeared to take her and Tan-tan away from their island of bliss32? All the dreams of her girlhood came floating, like pale, ghostlike visions, before Nicolette’s mind; dreams when she wandered hand in hand with Tan-tan up the valley and the birds around her sang a chorus: “He loves thee, passionately33!” Dreams when he was gay and happy, and they would laugh together and sing till the mountain peaks gave echo to their joy! Dreams when, wearied or sad, he would pillow his head on her breast, and allow her to stroke his hair, and to whisper soft words of comfort, or sing to him his favourite songs.
Those dream visions had long since receded34 into forgetfulness, dispelled35 by the masterful hand of a beautiful woman with gentian-blue eyes and a heart of stone. Was this the hour to recall them from never-never land? to let them float once more before her mind? and was
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this the hour to lend an ear to the sweet insidious36 voice that whispered: “Why not?” even on this cold winter’s morning, when a pall of grey monotone lay over earth and sky, when the winter wind soughed drearily37 through the trees, and every bird-song was stilled?
Is there a close time for love? Perhaps. But there is none for that sweet and gentle pity which is the handmaid of the compelling Master of the Universe. The sky might be grey, the flowers dead and the birds still, but Nicolette’s heart whispered to her that Tan-tan was in pain; he had been hurt in his love, in his pride, in that which he held dearer than everything in life: the honour of his name. And she, Nicolette, had it in her power to shield him, his honour and his pride, whilst in her heart there was such an infinity38 of love, that the wounds which he had endured would be healed by its magical power.
How it came about she knew not. He had spoken and he was tired: shame and sorrow had brought tears to his eyes. Then all of a sudden she put out her arms and drew his head down upon her breast. Like a mother crooning over her sick baby, she soothed39 and comforted him: and words of love poured out from her heart as nectar from an hallowed
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vessel40, and in her eyes there glowed a light of such perfect love and such sublime41 surrender, that he, dazed at first, not understanding, could but listen in silence, and let this marvellous ray of hope slowly filtrate through the darkness of his despair.
“Nicolette,” he cried the moment he could realise what it was she was saying, “do you really love me enough to——”
But she quickly put her hand over his mouth.
“Ask me no question, Tan-tan,” she said. “I have always loved you, neither more nor less—just loved you always—and now that you are in trouble and really need me, how can you ask if I love you enough?”
“Your father will never permit it, Nicolette,” he said soberly after a while.
“He will permit it,” she rejoined simply, “because now I should die if anything were to part us.”
“If only I could be worthy42 of your love, little one,” he murmured ruefully.
“Hush, my dear,” she whispered in reply. “In love no one is either worthy or unworthy. If you love me, then you have given me such a priceless treasure that I should not even envy the angels up in heaven.”
“If I love you, sweetheart!” he sighed, and
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a sharp pang43 of remorse44 shot through his heart.
But she was content even with this semblance45 of love. Never of late, in her happiest dreams, had she thought it possible that she and Tan-tan would ever really belong to one another. Oh! she had no illusions as to the present: the image of that blue-eyed little fiend had not been wholly eradicated46 from his heart, but so long as she had him she would love him so much, so much, that in time he would forget everything save her who made him happy.
They talked for awhile of the future: she would not see that in his heart he was ashamed—ashamed of her generosity47 and of his own weakness for accepting it. But she had found the right words, and he had been in such black despair that this glorious future which she held out before him was like a vision of paradise, and he was young and human, and did not turn his back on his own happiness. Then, as time was getting on, they remembered that there was a world besides themselves: a world to which they would now have to return and which they would have to face. It was no use restarting a game of “Let’s pretend!” on their desert island. A ship had come in sight on the limitless ocean, and they must make ready to go back.
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Hand in hand they wandered down the valley. It was just like one of those pictures of which Nicolette had dreamed. She and Tan-tan alone together, the Lèze murmuring at their feet, the soughing of the trees making sweet melody as they walked. Way up in the sky a thin shaft48 of brilliant light had rent the opalescent49 veil and tinged50 the heights of Luberon with gold. The warm sun of Provence would have its way. It tore at that drab grey veil, tore and tore, until the rent grew wider and the firmament51 over which he reigned52 was translucent53 and blue. The leaves on the trees mirrored the azure54 of the sky, the mountain stream gurgled and whispered with a sound like human laughter, and from a leafy grove55 of winter oak a pair of pigeons rose and flew away over the valley, and disappeared in the nebulous ether beyond.
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1
marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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cadence
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| n.（说话声调的）抑扬顿挫 | |
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pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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portent
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| n.预兆；恶兆；怪事 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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turbulence
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| n.喧嚣，狂暴，骚乱，湍流 | |
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boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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opalescence
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| n.乳白光，蛋白色光；乳光 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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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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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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crumb
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| n.饼屑，面包屑，小量 | |
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25
spurned
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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27
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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28
locusts
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| n.蝗虫( locust的名词复数 )；贪吃的人；破坏者；槐树 | |
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29
dishonour
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| n./vt.拒付（支票、汇票、票据等）；vt.凌辱，使丢脸；n.不名誉，耻辱，不光彩 | |
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30
disillusion
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| vt.使不再抱幻想，使理想破灭 | |
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31
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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33
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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34
receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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35
dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
insidious
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| adj.阴险的，隐匿的，暗中为害的，（疾病）不知不觉之间加剧 | |
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37
drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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38
infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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39
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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40
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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41
sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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42
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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43
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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44
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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45
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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46
eradicated
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| 画着根的 | |
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47
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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48
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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49
opalescent
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| adj.乳色的，乳白的 | |
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50
tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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52
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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53
translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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54
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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55
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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