WHAT Robert Drayton expected when, without one glance for the world he felt himself to be forever leaving, he so deliberately1 followed the two Trenmores, he scarcely knew. Death, probably.
As he bent2 above the Dust, his back to the sunlight and to life, he was conscious of neither regret, fear, nor curiosity. He had reached that blank wall which seems to rise in moments of great crisis—a sense of nowness that cuts off past and future, leaving for standing3 place only the present, an infinitesimal point.
Carefully copying the actions of those who had preceded him, Drayton touched the Dust, first gently, then, in sudden haste for the end, giving it one vigorous stir with his forefinger4.
Had he been a conventional suicide tugging5 at a trigger the result could have come no more promptly6. As he had seen it rise before, so it rose now—that grim cloud which to Drayton presaged8 dissolution.
It reached his face, was in his eyes, his nostrils9. With it came dizziness and a strong physical nausea10. His mouth tasted sharply bitter, as if he had swallowed quinine. Drayton shuddered11 and gasped12. He saw everything through a gray mist. The room was filled with it. It was a mist composed of thin, concentric rings, swirling13 slowly with himself for axis14. The rings became thicker, denser—till he could perceive nothing else—till he could not see his hands, when, stretching them out to catch at a chair or table, they came in contact only with the air.
The bitter taste and the sickness increased. His hand was on the floor supporting him, and the floor felt strange; the carpet unlike any weave of human making. Presently even the dizziness and nausea were forgotten. He had attention only for that strange carpet. He could have sworn that what he touched with cautious, investigatory fingers was not carpet at all, but grass! Surely it was grass—long, matted, a tangle15 of brittle-dry blades.
While he still explored this odd phenomenon, the blinding grayness about him began to thin. All around him appeared the changing outlines of shapes, gray and mutable as the mist itself, but still shapes of a sort. Rapidly now these grew more coherent, solid, and acquired a more than shadowy substance, until, all in a moment, the gray, swirling veil was withdrawn16.
Unless every sense of his body lied, Drayton was crouching17 on the ground in open air. Those gray shapes he had glimpsed were the fallen stones and broken walls of some old, ruined building.
Unspeakably bewildered, Drayton staggered to his feet. There before him stretched the broad level of a wide green plain, across which a low sun stared through a strata18 of reddened cloud. The ruins near which he stood crowned the summit of a little hill, all overgrown with that dry, tangled19 grass which had so puzzled him in the mist. Here and there a few small trees had sprung up among the stones. He heard their scant20, yellowish foliage21 rustling22 stiffly in the slight breeze.
Turning slowly, he perceived that the hill of the gray ruins was the first of a low range of foothills, above whose summits in the east loomed23 the white peaks of mountains.
Following amazement24, Drayton’s first impression was one of intolerable loneliness. In the sky of this strange, wide world he had invaded not a bird flew; mountain, hill, and plain lay desolate25, empty of any living creature; no sound broke the stillness save the gentle, unhuman whisper of the warm breeze, blowing from the plain upward across the hills.
And yet it was all very real; very convincing and earthlike. The shadows of the ruins stretched long and dark away from the almost level rays of the sinking sun. Stretching forth26 his hand, Drayton laid it cautiously upon the stone of a broken wall. The rough granite27 felt dusty and hot beneath his fingers. He broke off a bit of green-gray lichen28 that grew there, and it was just that—lichen and no more.
If he were dead, if this were the world that awaits the soul when the body perishes, why did he feel so uncommonly29 like his ordinary, everyday, physical self? How could he feel at all, in any common sense?
He was alive. His feet pressed the earth with the weight of a quite material body. Why, his very clothing denied any spirituality in this experience. There he stood, bareheaded, dressed in the same old blue serge suit he had bought five years ago in Cincinnati, and which now constituted his sole wardrobe. The sun was warm on his face; the air breathed clear and sweet. Surely he was no spirit, but a living man of flesh and blood.
Nowhere, however, was there hint or sign of other living humanity than himself. He was alone in a land so empty that only the greenness on hills and plain preserved it from utter desolation. The ruins spoke30 of man, but of man dead and gone so many ages since that their stones remembered his clean chisel31 strokes but vaguely32.
What devilish nature had that Dust possessed33, and where had it seen fit to deposit his fellow victims?
Drayton flung out his arms in a gesture of despair. For a long moment he stood so, a desolate figure in a vacant land. Then his hands dropped limp at his sides, and he began an aimless, wandering walk between the ruins.
Here, he thought with a faint flicker34 of interest, there had once stood a fortress35 or castle. Centuries ago it had fallen. All that remained were broken columns, heaps of rugged36 granite and portions of the thick outer walls. Within the latter he could trace the shape of a courtyard, still paved in places with crumbling37 flagstones.
Presently he came upon the remains38 of a gateway39. The arch had fallen in and upon one of its stones Drayton observed traces of letters. He examined them curiously40. Time, however, had done its work too thoroughly41, and all he could decipher were the first few letters of two lines:
ULITH—
MC
There was no clue in that to his whereabouts.
In despair of learning more, he strayed on, vaguely wondering why he should walk at all, until in the matted grass of the courtyard, close to the inner side of the same wall by which he had first found himself kneeling, his foot struck against something.
He stared downward. The sun was very low, the shadow of the wall was dark, and he could see only that there was a long mound42 there, under the tangled grass. But that soft, heavy resilience of the thing he had stumbled on, coupled with the length and shape of the mound—there was that in the combination which struck him unpleasantly.
He turned to leave it, then came back as if fascinated. Finally he stooped, and with nervous, desperate fingers dragged and tore at the network of dry, tangled fibers44 that covered the mound. At last he uncovered something that looked and felt like a piece of cloth. But the color of it—the color of it! Out of the dim shadow it gleamed at him, bright, clear, bluest and purest of blues—the hue45 of a bluebird’s wing!
Frantically46, with a growing sense of impending47 horror, Drayton persisted in his task until his worst fears were confirmed.
Beneath that grass lay the body of a woman, face down. Though the face was concealed48, he knew her instantly. And she lay there, deathly quiet, face down and the grass had grown over her.
How long—good God!—how long a time had passed since he had stood face to face with this girl in James Burford’s library? It had been morning there. Here it was sunset. Sunset? How many suns had set since that grass was young and began its task of shroud49 weaving?
Conquering a sudden and violent impulse to flee, Drayton turned the body over and laughed a little wildly. After all, the grass was a liar50. Dead the girl might be—she lay still enough—but if dead she was most recently so. Her face was pale and sweet and perfect as a child’s sleeping there in the shadow. The lids were closed softly over her eyes, as if at any moment the curling lashes51 might quiver and lift.
Scarcely breathing, Drayton knelt and laid his ear above her heart. Surely that was a faint flutter he felt! Raising her head, he sought some other sign of returning consciousness. There was none. He laid a hand on her forehead. It was cool, but not with the chilling coldness he dreaded52.
Questioning no longer, but with a great hope in his heart, Drayton sprang to his feet and paused. Where in this empty, houseless land could he obtain any stimulant54 or even water to revive her? He must have it—he must save her before that faint trace of life should flicker out. Alone he had been nothing. With this small sister of Trenmore’s at his side he could face all the mysteries of the universe with a cheerful carelessness. He loved her suddenly and joyously55, not because she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, but simply because she was human!
Yet should he leave her to seek water the girl might die in his absence. Better he had never found her than that! Despairing of other means, Drayton was about to try what resuscitation56 the chafing57 of wrists and forehead might effect when, glancing westward58 to judge how much of day might be left him, he beheld59 an odd, unlooked-for thing.
On the side of the ruins toward the plain stood the longest and highest fragment of the outer wall. On the left it rose in a jagged slant60 from the old foundations to a height of six or seven feet, extended level for a distance of four yards or so, then ended in an abrupt61 vertical62 line that exactly bisected the red sun, now touching63 the horizon. And from beyond its black silhouette64, against the faint pink of the western sky, a thin puff65 of smoke was ascending66!
It was dissipated by the slight breeze from the plain. Another puff and another followed it. Then the puffs67 ceased, to be succeeded by a slow, thin column of mysterious vapor68.
Who or what was behind that wall?
Standing there alone and weaponless beside the unconscious girl, Drayton was swept by a terror deeper and more vivid than any dread53 he had ever before experienced. Smoke! The most familiar sight known to man. But in this strange, unhuman place? What vague demon69 might he not discover if he dared look behind that wall?
Yet his very fear drove him. Night was on its way to lend terror the cloak of invisibility. He must go while the sun befriended him.
Leaving the girl where she was, Drayton stumbled across the grass-hidden stones between him and the fragment of wall. He caught at its top with his hands and cautiously pulled himself up.
Just before his head cleared the ragged43 stones a voice began speaking. It was a deep, vibrant70 voice, entirely71 harmonious72 with the surroundings.
“Well,” it declared, and the tone was somewhat plaintive73, “and that is the last of my last cigar. Sure, it’s a fine sunset they have here, but ’tis not my idea of Purgatory74 at all! ’Tis too dull, so it is. I wish—”
“Terry Trenmore!” With joyful75, scarce-believing eyes, Drayton was staring over the wall. Then his muscles suddenly gave way and he dropped back on his own side.
For an instant there was dead silence. When the voice was heard again it was with an intonation76 of profound resignation.
“There now, it’s begun at last! Sure, I never should have wished for excitement! But the devils will find Terence Trenmore game. Invisible voices shouting my own name! I wonder now, is that the best they can do? I wonder had I better—”
“Trenmore, it’s I—Bob Drayton!”
As Drayton appeared suddenly around the end of the wall, the Irishman faced him calmly without rising. “I’m resigned,” he said. “You might take a worse shape than that. What is it you’d be about now?”
Laughing outright77, Drayton walked over and shook his giant friend by the shoulder.
“You blessed old idiot! Don’t you know me? Have you been sitting here all this time while I mooned about thinking myself—By Heaven, Terry, do you know that Viola is here, too?”
“Viola, is it? Now I tell you straight, my lad, if you’re what I suspect you of being you keep your tongue off my little sister or there’ll be one devil the less in these parts!”
“Trenmore, have you gone stark78 mad? I’m no devil! Here, take my hand. Doesn’t that feel like flesh and blood? I tell you, Viola is here. She came to the house after—after you went. And before I could prevent her she had stirred up that infernal gray powder.”
“She did? Well, tell me then how you reached here yourself, and perhaps I’ll begin to believe you.”
Drayton shrugged79. “I followed, of course. The whole thing was my fault. I thought you were both dead, and I could hardly do less than follow.”
Trenmore sprang up and wrung80 the other’s hand with his customary enthusiasm. “And now I do believe you!” he cried. “You’re Bobby Drayton and none other, for you’ve acted like the man I knew you to be. But poor little Viola! And where is she now? Sure, if she’s in this place, I misdoubt it’s the one I took it for, after all!”
“She is over among the ruins, and she seems to have fainted. I found her all buried in grass. She mustn’t be left alone another instant. Have you any whisky or brandy about you?”
“I have not—bad luck to me!”
Disappointed, but still hopeful, Drayton led the way, eagerly followed by his friend. The sun had sunk till it glowed like the half of a great, round, red lantern above the horizon’s rim7. Drayton was wondering what they should do if they failed to revive Viola before night came on; but this anxiety was wasted.
As they crossed the grass-grown court a little figure in blue dashed suddenly from behind a shattered column and flung itself bodily into the arms of Trenmore.
“Terry—oh, Terry, my dear!”
“Little Viola! There, there now. Is it crying you are? And for what?”
“Just for joy, Terry, dear. Don’t mind me. There, I’ll not cry any more. I waked up—all alone—in the shadow. And Terry, darling, I’d been dreaming that we both were dead!”
收听单词发音 |
1
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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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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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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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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presaged
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| v.预示，预兆( presage的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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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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swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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axis
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| n.轴，轴线，中心线；坐标轴，基准线 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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strata
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| n.地层（复数）；社会阶层 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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lichen
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| n.地衣, 青苔 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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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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chisel
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| n.凿子；v.用凿子刻，雕，凿 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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fibers
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| 光纤( fiber的名词复数 )； （织物的）质地； 纤维，纤维物质 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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51
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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52
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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53
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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54
stimulant
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| n.刺激物，兴奋剂 | |
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55
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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56
resuscitation
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| n.复活 | |
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57
chafing
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| n.皮肤发炎v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的现在分词 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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58
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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59
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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60
slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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vertical
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| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
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63
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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64
silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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65
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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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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68
vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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69
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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70
vibrant
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| adj.震颤的，响亮的，充满活力的，精力充沛的，(色彩)鲜明的 | |
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71
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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72
harmonious
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| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
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73
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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74
purgatory
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| n.炼狱；苦难；adj.净化的，清洗的 | |
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75
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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76
intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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77
outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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78
stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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79
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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80
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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