Rudolph Musgrave sat on a stone beside the road that winds through the woods toward the railway station, and smoked, nervously12. He was disheartened of the business of living, and, absurdly enough, as it seemed to him, he was hungry.
"It has to be done quietly and without the remotest chance of Anne's ever hearing of it, and without the remotest chance of its ever having to be done again. I have about fifteen minutes in which to convince Patricia both of her own folly13 and of the fact that Jack14 is an unmitigated cad, and to get him off the place quietly, so that Anne will suspect nothing. And I never knew any reasonable argument to appeal to Patricia, and Jack will be a cornered rat! Yes, it is a large contract, and I would give a great deal—a very great deal—to know how I am going to fulfil it."
At this moment his wife and Mr. Charteris, carrying two portmanteaux, came around a bend in the road not twenty feet from Musgrave. They were both rather cross. In the clean and more prosaic15 light of morning an elopement seemed almost silly; moreover, Patricia had had no breakfast, and Charteris had been much annoyed by his wife, who had breakfasted with him, and had insisted on driving to the station with him. It was a trivial-seeming fact, but, perhaps, not unworthy of notice, that Patricia was carrying her own portmanteau, as well as an umbrella.
The three faced one another in the cool twilight. The woods stirred lazily about them. The birds were singing on a wager16 now.
"Ah," said Colonel Musgrave, "so you have come at last. I have been expecting you for some time."
Patricia dropped her portmanteau, sullenly17. Mr. Charteris placed his with care to the side of the road, and said, "Oh!" It was perhaps the only observation that occurred to him.
"Patricia," Musgrave began, very kindly18 and very gravely, "you are about to do a foolish thing. At the bottom of your heart, even now, you know you are about to do a foolish thing—a thing you will regret bitterly and unavailingly for the rest of time. You are turning your back on the world—our world—on the one possible world you could ever be happy in. You can't be happy in the half-world, Patricia; you aren't that sort. But you can never come back to us then, Patricia; it doesn't matter what the motive19 was, what the temptation was, or how great the repentance20 is—you cannot ever return. That is the law, Patricia; perhaps, it isn't always a just law. We didn't make it, you and I, but it is the law, and we must obey it. Our world merely says that, leaving it once, you cannot ever return: such is the only punishment it awards you, for it knows, this wise old world of ours, that such is the bitterest punishment which could ever be devised for you. Our world has made you what you are; in every thought and ideal and emotion you possess, you are a product of our world. You couldn't live in the half-world, Patricia; you are a product of our world that can never take root in that alien soil. Come back to us before it is too late, Patricia!"
Musgrave shook himself all over, rather like a Newfoundland dog coming out of the water, and the grave note died from his voice. He smiled, and rubbed his hands together.
"And now," said he, "I will stop talking like a problem play, and we will say no more about it. Give me your portmanteau, my dear, and upon my word of honor, you will never hear a word further from me in the matter. Jack, here, can take the train, just as he intended. And—and you and I will go back to the house, and have a good, hot breakfast together. Eh, Patricia?"
She was thinking, unreasonably21 enough, how big and strong and clean her husband looked in the growing light. It was a pity Jack was so small. However, she faced Musgrave coldly, and thought how ludicrously wide of the mark were all these threats of ostracism22. She shudderingly23 wished he would not talk of soil and taking root and hideous24 things like that, but otherwise the colonel left her unmoved. He was certainly good-looking, though.
Charteris was lighting25 a cigarette, with a queer, contented26 look. He knew the value of Patricia's stubbornness now; still, he appeared to be using an unnecessary number of matches.
"I should have thought you would have perceived the lack of dignity, as well as the utter uselessness, in making such a scene," Patricia said. "We aren't suited for each other, Rudolph; and it is better—far better for both of us—to have done with the farce27 of pretending to be. I am sorry that you still care for me. I didn't know that. But, for the future, I intend to live my own life."
Patricia's voice faltered28, and she stretched out her hands a little toward her husband in an odd gust29 of friendliness30. He looked so kind; and he was not smiling in that way she never liked. "Surely that isn't so unpardonable a crime, Rudolph?" she asked, almost humbly31.
"No, my dear," he answered, "it is not unpardonable—it is impossible. You can't lead your own life, Patricia; none of us can. Each life is bound up with many others, and every rash act of yours, every hasty word of yours, must affect to some extent the lives of those who are nearest and most dear to you. But, oh, it is not argument that I would be at! Patricia, there was a woman once—She was young, and wealthy, and—ah, well, I won't deceive you by exaggerating her personal attractions! I will serve up to you no praises of her sauced with lies. But fate and nature had combined to give her everything a woman can desire, and all this that woman freely gave to me—to me who hadn't youth or wealth or fame or anything! And I can't stand by, for that dear dead girl's sake, and watch your life go wrong, Patricia!"
"You are just like the rest of them, Olaf"—and when had she used that half-forgotten nickname last, he wondered. "You imagine you are in love with a girl because you happen to like the color of her eyes, or because there is a curve about her lips that appeals to you. That isn't love, Olaf, as we women understand it."
And wildly hideous and sad, it seemed to Colonel Musgrave—this dreary32 parody33 of their old love-talk. Only, he dimly knew that she had forgotten John Charteris existed, and that to her this moment seemed no less sardonic34.
Charteris inhaled35, lazily; yet, he did not like the trembling about Patricia's mouth. Her hands, too, opened and shut tight before she spoke36.
"It is too late now," she said, dully. "I gave you all there was to give. You gave me just what Grandma Pendomer and all the others had left you able to give. That remnant isn't love, Olaf, as we women understand it. And, anyhow, it is too late now."
Yet Patricia was remembering a time when Rudolph's voice held always that grave, tender note in speaking to her; it seemed a great while ago. And he was big and manly37, just like his voice, Rudolph was; and he looked very kind. Desperately38, Patricia began to count over the times her husband had offended her. Hadn't he talked to her in the most unwarrantable manner only yesterday afternoon?
"Too late!—oh, not a bit of it!" Musgrave cried. His voice sank persuasively39. "Why, Patricia, you are only thinking the matter over for the first time. You have only begun to think of it. Why, there is the boy—our boy, Patricia! Surely, you hadn't thought of Roger?"
He had found the right chord at last. It quivered and thrilled under his touch; and the sense of mastery leaped in his blood. Of a sudden, he knew himself dominant40. Her face was red, then white, and her eyes wavered before the blaze of his, that held her, compellingly.
"Now, honestly, just between you and me," the colonel said, confidentially41, "was there ever a better and braver and quainter42 and handsomer boy in the world? Why, Patricia, surely, you wouldn't willingly—of your own accord—go away from him, and never see him again? Oh, you haven't thought, I tell you! Think, Patricia! Don't you remember that first day, when I came into your room at the hospital and he—ah, how wrinkled and red and old-looking he was then, wasn't he, little wife? Don't you remember how he was lying on your breast, and how I took you both in my arms, and held you close for a moment, and how for a long, long while there wasn't anything left of the whole wide world except just us three and God smiling down upon us? Don't you remember, Patricia? Don't you remember his first tooth—why, we were as proud of him, you and I, as if there had never been a tooth before in all the history of the world! Don't you remember the first day he walked? Why, he staggered a great distance—oh, nearly two yards!—and caught hold of my hand, and laughed and turned back—to you. You didn't run away from him then, Patricia. Are you going to do it now?"
She struggled under his look. She had an absurd desire to cry, just that he might console her. She knew he would. Why was it so hard to remember that she hated Rudolph! Of course, she hated him; she loved that other man yonder. His name was Jack. She turned toward Charteris, and the reassuring43 smile with which he greeted her, impressed Patricia as being singularly nasty. She hated both of them; she wanted—in that brief time which remained for having anything—only her boy, her soft, warm little Roger who had eyes like Rudolph's.
"I—I—it's too late, Rudolph," she stammered44, parrot-like. "If you had only taken better care of me, Rudolph! If—No, it's too late, I tell you! You will be kind to Roger. I am only weak and frivolous45 and heartlesss. I am not fit to be his mother. I'm not fit, Rudolph! Rudolph, I tell you I'm not fit! Ah, let me go, my dear!—in mercy, let me go! For I haven't loved the boy as I ought to, and I am afraid to look you in the face, and you won't let me take my eyes away—you won't let me! Ah, Rudolph, let me go!"
"Not fit?" His voice thrilled with strength, and pulsed with tender cadences46. "Ah, Patricia, I am not fit to be his father! But, between us—between us, mightn't we do much for him? Come back to us, Patricia—to me and the boy! We need you, my dear. Ah, I am only a stolid47, unattractive fogy, I know; but you loved me once, and—I am the father of your child. My standards are out-of-date, perhaps, and in any event they are not your standards, and that difference has broken many ties between us; but I am the father of your child. You must—you must come back to me and the boy!" Musgrave caught her face between his hands, and lifted it toward his. "Patricia, don't make any mistake! There is nothing you care for so much as that boy. You can't give him up! If you had to walk over red-hot ploughshares to come to him, you would do it; if you could win him a moment's happiness by a lifetime of poverty and misery48 and degradation49, you would do it. And so would I, little wife. That is the tie which still unites us; that is the tie which is too strong ever to break. Come back to us, Patricia—to me and the boy."
Charteris came forward with a smile. He was quite sure of Patricia now.
"Colonel Musgrave," he said, with a faint drawl, "if you have entirely51 finished your edifying52 and, I assure you, highly entertaining monologue53, I will ask you to excuse us. I—oh, man, man!" Charteris cried, not unkindly, "don't you see it is the only possible outcome?"
Musgrave faced him. The glow of hard-earned victory was pulsing in the colonel's blood, but his eyes were chill stars. "Now, Jack," he said, equably, "I am going to talk to you. In fact, I am going to discharge an agreeable duty toward you."
Musgrave drew close to him. Charteris shrugged54 his shoulders; his smile, however, was not entirely satisfactory. It did not suggest enjoyment55.
"I don't blame you for being what you are," Musgrave went on, curtly56. "You were born so, doubtless. I don't blame a snake for being what it is. But, when I see a snake, I claim the right to set my foot on its head; when I see a man like you—well, this is the right I claim."
Thereupon Rudolph Musgrave struck his half-brother in the face with his open hand. The colonel was a strong man, physically57, and, on this occasion, he made no effort to curb58 his strength.
"Now," Musgrave concluded, "you are going away from this place very quickly, and you are going alone. You will do this because I tell you to do so, and because you are afraid of me. Understand, also—if you will be so good—that the only reason I don't give you a thorough thrashing is that I don't think you are worth the trouble. I only want Patricia to perceive exactly what sort of man you are."
The blow staggered Charteris. He seemed to grow smaller. His clothes seemed to hang more loosely about him. His face was paper-white, and the red mark showed plainly upon it.
"There would be no earthly sense in my hitting you back," he said equably. "It would only necessitate59 my getting the thrashing which, I can assure you, we are equally anxious to avoid. Of course you are able to knock me down and so on, because you are nearly twice as big as I am. I fail to see that proves anything in particular. Come, Patricia!" And he turned to her, and reached out his hand.
She shrank from him. She drew away from him, without any vehemence60, as if he had been some slimy, harmless reptile61. A woman does not like to see fear in a man's eyes; and there was fear in Mr. Charteris's eyes, for all that he smiled. Patricia's heart sickened. She loathed62 him, and she was a little sorry for him.
"Oh, you cur, you cur!" she gasped64, in a wondering whisper. Patricia went to her husband, and held out her hands. She was afraid of him. She was proud of him, the strong animal. "Take me away, Rudolph," she said, simply; "take me away from that—that coward. Take me away, my dear. You may beat me, too, if you like, Rudolph. I dare say I have deserved it. But I want you to deal brutally65 with me, to carry me away by force, just as you threatened to do the day we were married—at the Library, you remember, when the man was crying 'Fresh oranges!' and you smelt67 so deliciously of soap and leather and cigarette smoke."
Musgrave took both her hands in his. He smiled at Charteris.
The novelist returned the smile, intensifying68 its sweetness. "I fancy, Rudolph," he said, "that, after all, I shall have to take that train alone."
Mr. Charteris continued, with a grimace69: "You have no notion, though, how annoying it is not to possess an iota70 of what is vulgarly considered manliness71. But what am I to do? I was not born with the knack72 of enduring physical pain. Oh, yes, I am a coward, if you like to put it nakedly; but I was born so, willy-nilly. Personally, if I had been consulted in the matter, I would have preferred the usual portion of valor73. However! the sanctity of the hearth74 has been most edifyingly preserved—and, after all, the woman is not worth squabbling about."
There was exceedingly little of the mountebank75 in him now; he kicked Patricia's portmanteau, frankly76 and viciously, as he stepped over it to lift his own. Holding this in one hand, John Charteris spoke, honestly:
"Rudolph, I had a trifle underrated your resources. For you are a brave man—we physical cowards, you know, admire that above all things—and a strong man and a clever man, in that you have adroitly77 played upon the purely78 brutal66 traits of women. Any she-animal clings to its young and looks for protection in its mate. Upon a higher ground I would have beaten you, but as an animal you are my superior. Still, a thing done has an end. You have won back your wife in open fight. I fancy, by the way, that you have rather laid up future trouble for yourself in doing so, but I honor the skill you have shown. Colonel Musgrave, it is to you that, as the vulgar phrase it, I take off my hat."
Thereupon, Mr. Charteris uncovered his head with perfect gravity, and turned on his heel, and went down the road, whistling melodiously79.
Musgrave stared after him, for a while. The lust80 of victory died; the tumult81 and passion and fervor82 were gone from Musgrave's soul. He could very easily imagine the things Jack Charteris would say to Anne concerning him; and the colonel knew that she would believe them all. He had won the game; he had played it, heartily83 and skilfully84 and successfully; and his reward was that the old bickerings with Patricia should continue, and that Anne should be taught to loathe63 him. He foresaw it all very plainly as he stood, hand in hand with his wife.
But Anne would be happy. It was for that he had played.
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1
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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shrilled
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| （声音）尖锐的，刺耳的，高频率的( shrill的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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vagrant
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| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
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puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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pretense
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| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
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lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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11
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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12
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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unreasonably
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| adv. 不合理地 | |
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ostracism
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| n.放逐；排斥 | |
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shudderingly
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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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25
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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farce
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| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
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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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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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parody
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| n.打油诗文，诙谐的改编诗文，拙劣的模仿；v.拙劣模仿，作模仿诗文 | |
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sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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inhaled
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| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
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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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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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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persuasively
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| adv.口才好地；令人信服地 | |
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dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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42
quainter
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| adj.古色古香的( quaint的比较级 )；少见的，古怪的 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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44
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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46
cadences
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| n.（声音的）抑扬顿挫( cadence的名词复数 )；节奏；韵律；调子 | |
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47
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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48
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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49
degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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50
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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52
edifying
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| adj.有教训意味的，教训性的，有益的v.开导，启发( edify的现在分词 ) | |
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53
monologue
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| n.长篇大论，（戏剧等中的）独白 | |
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54
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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55
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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56
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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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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58
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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59
necessitate
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| v.使成为必要，需要 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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reptile
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| n.爬行动物；两栖动物 | |
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loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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intensifying
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的现在分词 )；增辉 | |
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grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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iota
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| n.些微，一点儿 | |
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manliness
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| 刚毅 | |
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knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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valor
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| n.勇气，英勇 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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mountebank
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| n.江湖郎中；骗子 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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adroitly
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| adv.熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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melodiously
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lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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