It was a particularly cold night. A sudden thaw1 had nearly cleared the streets the day before, but now they were traversed again with a powdery wraith2 of loose snow that travelled in wavy3 lines before the feet of the wind, and filled the lower air with a fine-particled mist. There was no sky — only a dark, ominous4 tent that draped in the tops of the streets and was in reality a vast approaching army of snowflakes — while over it all, chilling away the comfort from the brown-and-green glow of lighted windows and muffling6 the steady trot7 of the horse pulling their sleigh, interminably washed the north wind. It was a dismal8 town after all, she though, dismal.
Sometimes at night it had seemed to her as though no one lived here — they had all gone long ago — leaving lighted houses to be covered in time by tombing heaps of sleet9. Oh, if there should be snow on her grave! To be beneath great piles of it all winter long, where even her headstone would be a light shadow against light shadows. Her grave — a grave that should be flower-strewn and washed with sun and rain.
She thought again of those isolated10 country houses that her train had passed, and of the life there the long winter through — the ceaseless glare through the windows, the crust forming on the soft drifts of snow, finally the slow cheerless melting and the harsh spring of which Roger Patton had told her. Her spring — to lose it forever — with its lilacs and the lazy sweetness it stirred in her heart. She was laying away that spring — afterward11 she would lay away that sweetness.
With a gradual insistence12 the storm broke. Sally Carrol felt a film of flakes5 melt quickly on her eyelashes, and Harry13 reached over a furry14 arm and drew down her complicated flannel15 cap. Then the small flakes came in skirmish-line, and the horse bent16 his neck patiently as a transparency of white appeared momentarily on his coat.
“Oh, he’s cold, Harry,” she said quickly.
“Who? The horse? Oh, no, he isn’t. He likes it!”
After another ten minutes they turned a corner and came in sight of their destination. On a tall hill outlined in vivid glaring green against the wintry sky stood the ice palace. It was three stories in the air, with battlements and embrasures and narrow icicled windows, and the innumerable electric lights inside made a gorgeous transparency of the great central hall. Sally Carrol clutched Harry’s hand under the fur robe.
“It’s beautiful!” he cried excitedly. “My golly, it’s beautiful, isn’t it! They haven’t had one here since eighty-five!”
Somehow the notion of there not having been one since eighty-five oppressed her. Ice was a ghost, and this mansion17 of it was surely peopled by those shades of the eighties, with pale faces and blurred18 snow-filled hair.
“Come on, dear,” said Harry.
She followed him out of the sleigh and waited while he hitched19 the horse. A party of four — Gordon, Myra, Roger Patton, and another girl — drew up beside them with a mighty20 jingle21 of bells. There were quite a crowd already, bundled in fur or sheepskin, shouting and calling to each other as they moved through the snow, which was now so thick that people could scarcely be distinguished22 a few yards away.
“It’s a hundred and seventy feet tall,” Harry was saying to a muffled23 figure beside him as they trudged24 toward the entrance; “covers six thousand square yards.”
“She caught snatches of conversation: “One main hall”—“walls twenty to forty inches thick”—“and the ice cave has almost a mile of —”—“this Canuck who built it ——”
They found their way inside, and dazed by the magic of the great crystal walls Sally Carrol found herself repeating over and over two lines from “Kubla Khan”:
“It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!”
In the great glittering cavern25 with the dark shut out she took a seat on a wooded bench and the evening’s oppression lifted. Harry was right — it was beautiful; and her gaze travelled the smooth surface of the walls, the blocks for which had been selected for their purity and dearness to obtain this opalescent26, translucent27 effect.
“Look! Here we go — oh, boy! “ cried Harry.
A band in a far corner struck up “Hail, Hail, the Gang’s All Here!” which echoed over to them in wild muddled28 acoustics29, and then the lights suddenly went out; silence seemed to flow down the icy sides and sweep over them. Sally Carrol could still see her white breath in the darkness, and a dim row of pale faces over on the other side.
The music eased to a sighing complaint, and from outside drifted in the full-throated remnant chant of the marching clubs. It grew louder like some p?an of a viking tribe traversing an ancient wild; it swelled30 — they were coming nearer; then a row of torches appeared, and another and another, and keeping time with their moccasined feet a long column of gray-mackinawed figures swept in, snow-shoes slung31 at their shoulders, torches soaring and flickering32 as their voice rose along the great walls.
The gray column ended and another followed, the light streaming luridly33 this time over red toboggan caps and flaming crimson34 mackinaws, and as they entered they took up the refrain; then came a long platoon of blue and white, of green, of white, of brown and yellow.
“Those white ones are the Wacouta Club,” whispered Harry eagerly. “Those are the men you’ve met round at dances.”
The volume of the voices grew; the great cavern was a phantasmagoria of torches waving in great banks of fire, of colors and the rhythm of soft-leather steps. The leading column turned and halted, platoon deploys35 in front of platoon until the whole procession made a solid flag of flame, and then from thousands of voices burst a mighty shout that filled the air like a crash of thunder, and sent the torches wavering. It was magnificent, it was tremendous! To Sally Carol it was the North offering sacrifice on some mighty altar to the gray pagan God of Snow. As the shout died the band struck up again and there came more singing, and then long reverberating36 cheers by each club. She sat very quiet listening while the staccato cries rent the stillness; and then she started, for there was a volley of explosion, and great clouds of smoke went up here and there through the cavern — the flash-light photographers at work — and the council was over. With the band at their head the clubs formed in column once more, took up their chant, and began to march out.
“Come on!” shouted Harry. “We want to see the labyrinths37 down-stairs before they turn the lights off!”
They all rose and started toward the chute — Harry and Sally Carrol in the lead, her little mitten38 buried in his big fur gantlet. At the bottom of the chute was a long empty room of ice, with the ceiling so low that they had to stoop — and their hands were parted. Before she realized what he intended Harry Harry had darted39 down one of the half-dozen glittering passages that opened into the room and was only a vague receding40 blot41 against the green shimmer42.
“Harry!” she called.
“Come on!” he cried back.
She looked round the empty chamber43; the rest of the party had evidently decided44 to go home, were already outside somewhere in the blundering snow. She hesitated and then darted in after Harry.
“Harry!” she shouted.
She had reached a turning-point thirty feet down; she heard a faint muffled answer far to the left, and with a touch of panic fled toward it. She passed another turning, two more yawning alleys45.
“Harry!”
No answer. She started to run straight forward, and then turned like lightning and sped back the way she had come, enveloped46 in a sudden icy terror.
She reached a turn — was it here?— took the left and came to what should have been the outlet47 into the long, low room, but it was only another glittering passage with darkness at the end. She called again, but the walls gave back a flat, lifeless echo with no reverberations. Retracing48 her steps she turned another corner, this time following a wide passage. It was like the green lane between the parted water of the Red Sea, like a damp vault50 connecting empty tombs.
She slipped a little now as she walked, for ice had formed on the bottom of her overshoes; she had to run her gloves along the half-slippery, half-sticky walls to keep her balance.
“Harry!”
Still no answer. The sound she made bounced mockingly down to the end of the passage.
Then on an instant the lights went out, and she was in complete darkness. She gave a small, frightened cry, and sank down into a cold little heap on the ice. She felt her left knee do something as she fell, but she scarcely noticed it as some deep terror far greater than any fear of being lost settled upon her. She was alone with this presence that came out of the North, the dreary51 loneliness that rose from ice-bound whalers in the Arctic seas, from smokeless, trackless wastes where were strewn the whitened bones of adventure. It was an icy breath of death; it was rolling down low across the land to clutch at her.
With a furious, despairing energy she rose again and started blindly down the darkness. She must get out. She might be lost in here for days, freeze to death and lie embedded52 in the ice like corpses53 she had read of, kept perfectly54 preserved until the melting of a glacier55. Harry probably thought she had left with the others — he had gone by now; no one would know until next day. She reached pitifully for the wall. Forty inches thick, they had said — forty inches thick!
On both sides of her along the walls she felt things creeping, damp souls that haunted this palace, this town, this North.
“Oh, send somebody — send somebody!” she cried aloud.
Clark Darrow — he would understand; or Joe Ewing; she couldn’t be left here to wander forever — to be frozen, heart, body, and soul. This her — this Sally Carrol! Why, she was a happy thing. She was a happy little girl. She liked warmth and summer and Dixie. These things were foreign — foreign.
“You’re not crying,” something said aloud. “You’ll never cry any more. Your tears would just freeze; all tears freeze up here!”
She sprawled56 full length on the ice.
A long single file of minutes went by, and with a great weariness she felt her eyes dosing. Then some one seemed to sit down near her and take her face in warm, soft hands. She looked up gratefully.
“Why it’s Margery Lee” she crooned softly to herself. “I knew you’d come.” It really was Margery Lee, and she was just as Sally Carrol had known she would be, with a young, white brow, and wide welcoming eyes, and a hoop-skirt of some soft material that was quite comforting to rest on.
“Margery Lee.”
It was getting darker now and darker — all those tombstones ought to be repainted sure enough, only that would spoil ’em, of course. Still, you ought to be able to see ’em.
Then after a succession of moments that went fast and then slow, but seemed to be ultimately resolving themselves into a multitude of blurred rays converging58 toward a pale-yellow sun, she heard a great cracking noise break her new-found stillness.
It was the sun, it was a light; a torch, and a torch beyond that, and another one, and voices; a face took flesh below the torch, heavy arms raised her and she felt something on her cheek — it felt wet. Some one had seized her and was rubbing her face with snow. How ridiculous — with snow!
“Sally Carrol! Sally Carrol!”
It was Dangerous Dan McGrew; and two other faces she didn’t know. “Child, child! We’ve been looking for you two hours! Harry’s half-crazy!”
Things came rushing back into place — the singing, the torches, the great shout of the marching clubs. She squirmed in Patton’s arms and gave a long low cry.
“Oh, I want to get out of here! I’m going back home. Take me home”—— her voice rose to a scream that sent a chill to Harry’s heart as he came racing49 down the next passage —“to-morrow!” she cried with delirious59, unstrained passion —“To-morrow! To-morrow! To-morrow!”
收听单词发音 |
1
thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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wraith
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| n.幽灵；骨瘦如柴的人 | |
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wavy
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| adj.有波浪的，多浪的，波浪状的，波动的，不稳定的 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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muffling
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| v.压抑，捂住( muffle的现在分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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sleet
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| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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furry
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| adj.毛皮的；似毛皮的；毛皮制的 | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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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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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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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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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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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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cavern
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| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
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opalescent
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| adj.乳色的，乳白的 | |
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translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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acoustics
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| n.声学，(复)音响效果，音响装置 | |
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30
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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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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luridly
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| adv. 青灰色的(苍白的, 深浓色的, 火焰等火红的) | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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deploys
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| （尤指军事行动）使展开( deploy的第三人称单数 )； 施展； 部署； 有效地利用 | |
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36
reverberating
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| 回响，回荡( reverberate的现在分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
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labyrinths
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| 迷宫( labyrinth的名词复数 )； （文字，建筑）错综复杂的 | |
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mitten
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| n.连指手套，露指手套 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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40
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；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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41
blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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43
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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48
retracing
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| v.折回( retrace的现在分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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49
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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50
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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51
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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embedded
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| a.扎牢的 | |
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53
corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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54
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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glacier
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| n.冰川，冰河 | |
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56
sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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57
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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58
converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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