When the down express arrived at Stillwater, that night, two passengers stepped from the rear car to the platform: one was Richard Shackford, and the other a commercial traveler, whose acquaintance Richard had made the previous evening on the Fall River boat.
There were no hacks1 in waiting at the station, and Richard found his politeness put to a severe test when he saw himself obliged to pilot his companion part of the way to the hotel, which lay--it seemed almost maliciously--in a section of the town remote from the Slocums'. Curbing2 his impatience3, Richard led the stranger through several crooked4, unlighted streets, and finally left him at the corner of the main thoroughfare, within pistol-shot of the red glass lantern which hung over the door of the tavern5. This cost Richard ten good minutes. As he hurriedly turned into a cross-street on the left, he fancied that he heard his name called several times from somewhere in the darkness. A man came running towards him. It was Mr. Peters.
"Can I say a word to you, Mr. Shackford?"
"If it isn't a long one. I am rather pressed."
"It is about Torrini, sir."
"What of him?"
"Oh, I can't stop to hear that," and Richard quickened his pace.
"The doctor took off his hand last Wednesday," said Peters, keeping alongside, "and he's been getting worse and worse."
Richard halted. "Took off his hand?"
"Didn't you know he was caught in the rolling-machine at Dana's? Well, it was after you went away."
"This is the first I've heard of it."
"It was hard lines for him, sir, with the woman and the two children, and nothing to eat in the house. The boys in the yard have done what they could, but with the things from the drug-store, and so on, we couldn't hold up our end. Mr. Dana paid the doctor's bill, but if it hadn't been for Miss Slocum I don't know what would have happened. I thought may be if I spoke7 to you, and told you how it was"--
"Did Torrini send you?"
"Lord, no! He's too proud to send to anybody. He's been so proud since they took off his hand that there has been no doing anything with him. If they was to take off his leg, he would turn into one mass of pride. No, Mr. Shackford, I came of myself."
"Where does Torrini live, now?"
"I will go along with you," said Richard, with a dogged air. It seemed as if the fates were determined9 to keep him from seeing Margaret that night. Peters reached out a hand to take Richard's leather bag. "No, thank you, I can carry it very well." In a small morocco case in one of the pockets was a heavy plain gold ring for Margaret, and not for anything in the world would Richard have allowed any one else to carry the bag.
After a brisk five minutes' walk the two emerged upon a broad street crossing their path at right angles. All the shops were closed except Stubbs the provision dealer's and Dundon's drug-store. In the window of the apothecary10 a great purple jar, with a spray of gas jets behind it, was flaring11 on the darkness like a Bengal light. Richard stopped at the provision store and made some purchases; a little further on he halted at a fruit stand, kept by an old crone, who had supplemented the feeble flicker12 of the corner street lamp with a pitch-pine torch, which cast a yellow bloom over her apples and turned them all into oranges. She had real oranges, however, and Richard selected half a dozen, with a confused idea of providing the little Italians with some national fruit, though both children had been born in Stillwater.
Then the pair resumed their way, Peters acting13 as pioneer. They soon passed beyond the region of sidewalks and curbstones, and began picking their steps through a narrow, humid lane, where the water lay in slimy pools, and the tenement14 houses on each side blotted15 out the faint starlight. The night was sultry, and door and casement16 stood wide, making pits of darkness. Few lights were visible, but a continuous hum of voices issued from the human hives, and now and then a transient red glow at an upper window showed that some one was smoking a pipe. This was Mitchell's Alley.
The shadows closed behind the two men as they moved forward, and neither was aware of the figure which had been discreetly17 following them for the last ten minutes. If Richard had suddenly wheeled and gone back a dozen paces, he would have come face to face with the commercial traveler.
Mr. Peeters paused in front of one of the tenement houses, and motioned with his thumb over his shoulder for Richard to follow him through a yawning doorway18. The hall was as dark as a cave, and full of stale, moldy19 odors. Peters shuffled20 cautiously along the bare boards until he kicked his toe against the first step of the staircase.
"Keep close to the wall, Mr. Shackford, and feel your way up. They've used the banisters for kindling21, and the landlord says he shan't put in any more. I went over here the other night," added Mr. Peters reminiscentially.
After fumbling22 several seconds for the latch23, Mr. Peters pushed open a door, and ushered24 Richard into a large, gloomy rear room. A kerosene25 lamp was burning dimly on the mantel-shelf, over which hung a coarsely-colored lithograph26 of the Virgin27 in a pine frame. Under the picture stood a small black crucifix. There was little furniture,--a cooking-stove, two or three stools, a broken table, and a chest of drawers. On an iron bedstead in the corner lay Torrini, muffled28 to the chin in a blanket, despite the hot midsummer night. His right arm, as if it were wholly disconnected with his body, rested in a splint on the outside of the covering. As the visitors entered, a tall dusky woman with blurred29 eyes rose from a low bench at the foot of the bed.
"Is he awake?" asked Peters.
The woman, comprehending the glance which accompanied the words, though not the words themselves, nodded yes.
"Here is Mr. Shackford come to see you, Torrini," Peters said.
The man slowly unclosed his eyes; they were unnaturally30 brilliant and dilated31, and seemed to absorb the rest of his features.
"I didn't want him."
"Let by-gones be by-gones, Torrini," said Richard, approaching the bedside. "I am sorry about this."
"You are very good; I don't understand. I ask nothing of Slocum; but the signorina comes every day, and I cannot help it. What would you have? I'm a dead man," and he turned away his face.
"It is not so bad as that," said Richard.
Torrini looked up with a ghastly smile. "They have cut off the hand that struck you, Mr. Shackford."
"I suppose it was necessary. I am very sorry. In a little while you will be on your feet again."
"It is too late. They might have saved me by taking the arm, but I would not allow them. I may last three or four days. The doctor says it."
"I do not care for myself," the man continued,--"but she and the little ones--That is what madden s me. They will starve."
"They will not be let starve in Stillwater," said Richard.
Torrini turned his eyes upon him wistfully and doubtfully. "You will help them?"
"Yes, I and others."
"If they could be got to Italy," said Torrini, after meditating33, "it would be well. Her farther," giving a side look at the woman, "is a fisherman of Capri." At the word Capri the woman lifted her head quickly. "He is not rich, but he's not poor; he would take her."
"You would wish her sent to Naples?"
"Yes."
"If you do not pull through, she and the children shall go there."
"Brigida!" called Torrini; then he said something rapidly in Italian to the woman, who buried her face in both hands, and did not reply.
"She has no words to thank you. See, she is tired to death, with the children all day and me all night,--these many nights."
"Tell her to go to bed in the other room," said Richard. "There's another room, isn't there? I'll sit with you."
"You?"
"Your wife is fagged out,--that is plain. Send her to bed, and don't talk any more. Peters, I wish you'd run and get a piece of ice somewhere; there's no drinking-water here. Come, now, Torrini, I can't speak Italian. Oh, I don't mind your scowling35; I intend to stay."
Torrini slowly unknitted his brows, and an irresolute36 expression stole across his face; then he called Brigida, and bade her go in with the children. She bowed her head submissively, and fixing her melting eyes on Richard for an instant passed into the adjoining chamber37.
Peters shortly reappeared with the ice, and after setting a jug38 of water on the table departed. Richard turned up the wick of the kerosene lamp, which was sending forth39 a disagreeable odor, and pinned an old newspaper around the chimney to screen the flame. He had, by an odd chance, made his lampshade out of a copy of The Stillwater Gazette containing the announcement of his cousin's death. Richard gave a quick start as his eye caught the illuminated40 head-lines,--Mysterious Murder of Lemuel Shackford! Perhaps a slight exclamation41 escaped Richard's lips at the same time, for Torrini turned and asked what was the matter. "Nothing at all," said Richard, removing the paper, and placing another in its stead. Then he threw open the blinds of the window looking on the back yard, and set his hand-bag against the door to prevent it being blown to by the draught42. Torrini, without altering the rigid34 position of his head on the pillow, followed every movement with a look of curious insistence43, like that of the eyes in a portrait. His preparations completed for the night, Richard seated himself on a stool at the foot of the bed.
The obscurity and stillness of the room had their effect upon the sick man, who presently dropped into a light sleep. Richard sat thinking of Margaret, and began to be troubled because he had neglected to send her word of his detention44, which he might have done by Peters. It was now too l ate. The town clock struck ten in the midst of his self-reproaches. At the first clang of the bell, Torrini awoke with a start, and asked for water.
"If anybody comes," he said, glancing in a bewildered, anxious way at the shadows huddled45 about the door, "you are not to leave me alone with him."
"Him? Whom? Are you expecting any one?"
"No; but who knows? one might come. Then, you are not to go; you are not to leave me for a second."
"I've no thought of it," replied Richard; "you may rest easy.... He's a trifle light in the head," was Richard's reflection.
After that Torrini dozed46 rather than slumbered47, rousing at brief intervals48; and whenever he awoke the feverish49 activity of his brain incited50 him to talk,--nowe of Italy, and now of matters connected with his experiences in this country.
"Naples is a pleasant place!" he broke out in the hush51 of the midnight, just as Richard was dropping off. "The band plays every afternoon on the Chiaia. And then the _festas,_--every third day a festa. The devil was in my body when I left there and dragged little Brigida into all this misery52. We used to walk of an evening along the Marinella,--that's a strip of beach just beyond the Molo Piccolo. You were never in Naples?"
"Not I," said Richard. "Here, wet your lips, and try to go to sleep again."
"No, I can't sleep for thinking. When the Signorina came to see me, the other day, her heart was pierced with pity. Like the blessed Madonna's, her bosom53 bleeds for all! You will let her come to-morrow?"
"Yes, yes! If you will only keep quiet, Margaret shall come."
"Margherita, we say. You are to we her,--is it nnot so?"
Richard turned down the wick of the lamp, which was blazing and spluttering, and did not answer. Then Torrini lay silent a long while, apparently54 listening to the hum of the telegraph wires attached to one end of the roof. At odd intervals the freshening breeze swept these wires, and awoke a low aeolian murmur55. The moon rose in the mean time, and painted on the uncarpeted floor the shape of the cherry bough56 that stretched across the window. It was two o'clock; Richard sat with his head bent57 forward, in a drowse.
"Now the cousin is dead, you are as rich as a prince,--are you not?" inquired Torrini, who had lain for the last half hour with his eyes wide open in the moonlight.
Richard straightened himself with a jerk.
"Torrini, I positively58 forbid you to talk any more!"
"I remember you said that one day, somewhere. Where was it? Ah, in the yard! 'You can't be allowed to speak here, you know.' And then I struck at you,--with that hand they've taken away! See how I remember it!"
"Why do you bother your mind with such things? Think of just nothing at all, and rest. Perhaps a wet cloth on your forehead will refresh you. I wish you had a little of my genius for not keeping awake."
"You are tired, you?"
"I have had two broken nights, traveling."
"And I give you no peace?"
"Well, no," returned Richard bluntly, hoping the admission would induce Torrini to tranquilize himself, "you don't give me much."
"Not a soul. Good Heaven, man, do you know what time it is?"
"I know,--I know. It's very late. I ought to keep quiet; but, the devil! with this fever in my brain! . . . . Mr. Shackford!" and Torrini, in spite of his imprisoned60 limb, suddenly half raised himself from the mattress61. "I--I"--
Richard sprung to his feet. "What is it,--what do you want?"
"Nothing," said Torrini, falling back on the pillow.
Richard brought him a glass of water, which he refused. He lay motionless, with his eyes shut, as if composing himself, and Richard returned on tiptoe to his bench. A moment or two afterwards Torrini stirred the blanket with his foot.
"Mr. Shackford!"
"Well?"
"I am as grateful--as a dog."
Torrini did not speak again. This expression of his gratitude62 appeared to ease him. His respiration63 grew lighter64 and more regular, and by and by he fell into a profound sleep. Richard watched awhile expectantly, with his head resting against the rail of the bedstead; then his eyelids65 drooped66, and he too slumbered. But once or twice, before he quite lost himself, he was conscious of Brigida's thin face thrust like a silver wedge through the half-open door of the hall bedroom. It was the last thing he remembered,--that sharp, pale face peering out from the blackness of the inner chamber as his grasp loosened on the world and he drifted off on the tide of a dream. A narrow white hand, like a child's, seemed to be laid against his breast. It was not Margaret's hand, and yet it was hers. No, it was the plaster model he had made that idle summer afternoon, years and years before he had ever thought of loving her. Strange for it to be there! Then Richard began wondering how the gold ring would look in the slender forefinger67. He unfastened the leather bag and took out the ring. He was vainly trying to pass it over the first joint68 of the dead white finger, when the cast slipped from his hold and fell with a crash to the floor. Richard gave a shudder69, and opened his eyes. Brigida was noiselessly approaching Torrini's bedside. Torrini still slept. It was broad day. Through the uncurtained window Richard saw the blue sky barred with crimson70.
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1
hacks
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| 黑客 | |
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2
curbing
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| n.边石，边石的材料v.限制，克制，抑制( curb的现在分词 ) | |
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3
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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4
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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5
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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6
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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7
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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8
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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10
apothecary
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| n.药剂师 | |
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11
flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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12
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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13
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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14
tenement
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| n.公寓；房屋 | |
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15
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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16
casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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17
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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18
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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19
moldy
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| adj.发霉的 | |
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20
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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21
kindling
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| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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22
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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23
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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24
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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25
kerosene
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| n.(kerosine)煤油，火油 | |
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26
lithograph
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| n.平板印刷，平板画；v.用平版印刷 | |
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27
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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28
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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29
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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30
unnaturally
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| adv.违反习俗地；不自然地；勉强地；不近人情地 | |
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31
dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
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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33
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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34
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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35
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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36
irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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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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38
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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39
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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40
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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41
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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42
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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43
insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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44
detention
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| n.滞留，停留；拘留，扣留；(教育)留下 | |
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45
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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46
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
slumbered
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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48
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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49
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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50
incited
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| 刺激，激励，煽动( incite的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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52
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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53
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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54
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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55
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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56
bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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57
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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58
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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59
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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60
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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62
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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63
respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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64
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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65
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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66
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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67
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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68
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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69
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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70
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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