Sorrow and trouble now began to descend1 upon Mr Thomas Donnithorne like a thick cloud.
Reduced from a state of affluence2 to one bordering on absolute poverty, the old man’s naturally buoyant spirit almost gave way, and it needed all the attentions and the cheering influence of his good wife and sweet Rose Ellis to keep him from going (as he often half-jestingly threatened) to the end of Cape3 Cornwall and jumping into the sea.
“It’s all over with me, Oliver,” said he one morning, after the return of his nephew from London. “A young fellow like you may face up against such difficulties, but what is an old man to do? I can’t begin the world over again; and as for the shares I have in the various mines, they’re not worth the paper they’re writ4 upon.”
“But things may take a turn,” suggested Oliver; “this is not the first time the mines have been in a poor condition, and the price of tin low. When things get very bad they are likely to get better, you know. Even now there seems to be some talk among the miners of an improved state of things. I met Maggot yesterday, and he was boasting of having found a monstrous5 bunch, which, according to him, is to be the making of all our fortunes.”
Mr Donnithorne shook his head.
“Maggot’s geese are always swans,” he said; “no, no, Oliver, I have lost all hope of improvement. There are so many of these deceptive6 mines around us just now—some already gone down, and some going—that the public are losing confidence in us, and, somewhat unfairly, judging that, because a few among us are scoundrels, we are altogether a bad lot.”
“What do you think of Mr Clearemout’s new mine?” asked Oliver.
“I believe it to be a genuine one,” said the old gentleman, turning a somewhat sharp glance on his nephew. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I doubt it,” replied Oliver.
“You are too sceptical,” said Mr Donnithorne almost testily7; “too much given to judging things at first sight.”
“Nay, uncle; you are unfair. Had I judged of you at first sight, I should have thought you a—”
“Well, what? a smuggling8 old brandy-loving rascal—eh? and not far wrong after all.”
“At all events,” said Oliver, laughing, “I have lived to form a better opinion of you than that. But, in reference to Clearemout, I cannot shut my eyes to the fact that the work doing at the new mine is very like a sham9, for they have only two men and a boy working her, with a captain to superintend; and it is said, for I made inquiries10 while in London, that thirty thousand pounds have been called up from the shareholders11, and there are several highly paid directors, with an office-staff in the City drawing large salaries.”
“Nonsense, Oliver,” said Mr Donnithorne more testily than before; “you know very well that things must have a beginning, and that caution is necessary at first in all speculations13. Besides, I feel convinced that Mr Clearemout is a most respectable man, and an uncommonly14 clever fellow to boot. It is quite plain that you don’t like him—that’s what prejudices you, Oliver. You’re jealous of the impression he has made on the people here.”
This last remark was made jestingly, but it caused the young doctor to wince15, having hit nearer the truth than the old gentleman had any idea of, for although Oliver envied not the handsome stranger’s popularity, he was, almost unknown to himself, very jealous of the impression he seemed to have made on Rose Ellis.
A feeling of shame induced him to change the subject of conversation, with a laughing observation that he hoped such an unworthy motive16 did not influence him.
Now, while this conversation was going on in the parlour of Mr Donnithorne’s cottage, another dialogue was taking place in a small wooden erection at the end of the garden, which bore the dignified17 name of “Rose’s Bower18.” The parties concerned in it were George Augustus Clearemout and Rose Ellis.
A day or two previous to the conversation to which we are about to draw attention, the managing director had undergone a change in his sentiments and intentions. When he first saw Rose he thought her an uncommonly sweet and pretty girl. A short acquaintance with her convinced him that she was even sweeter and prettier than at first he had thought her. This, coupled with the discovery that her uncle was very rich, and that he meant to leave a large portion of his wealth, if not all of it, to Rose, decided20 Clearemout, and he resolved to marry her. Afterwards he became aware of the fact that old Mr Donnithorne had met with losses, but he was ignorant of their extent, and still deemed it worth while to carry out his intentions.
George Augustus had been a “managing director” in various ways from his earliest infancy21, and had never experienced much opposition22 to his will, so that he had acquired a habit of settling in his own mind whatever he meant to do, and forthwith doing it. On this occasion he resolved to sacrifice himself to Rose, in consideration of her prospective23 fortune—cash being, of course, Mr Clearemout’s god.
Great, then, was the managing director’s surprise, and astonishing the condition of his feelings, when, on venturing to express his wishes to Rose, he was kindly24, but firmly, rejected! Mr Clearemout was so thunderstruck—having construed25 the unsophisticated girl’s candour and simplicity26 of manner into direct encouragement—that he could make no reply, but, with a profound bow, retired27 hastily from her presence, went to his lodgings28, and sat down with his elbows on the table, and his face buried in his large hands, the fingers of which appeared to be crushing in his forehead, as if to stifle29 the thoughts that burned there. After sitting thus for half an hour he suddenly rose, with his face somewhat paler, and his lips a little more firmly compressed than usual.
It was an epoch30 in his existence. The man who had so often and so successfully deceived others had made the wonderful discovery that he had deceived himself. He had imagined that money was his sole object in wishing to marry Rose. He now discovered that love, or something like it, had so much to do with his wishes that he resolved to have her without money, and also without her consent.
Something within the man told him that Rose’s refusal was an unalterable one. He did not think it worth while to waste time in a second attempt. His plans, though hastily formed, required a good deal of preliminary arrangement, so he commenced to carry them out with the single exclamation31, “I’ll do it!” accompanied with a blow from his heavy fist on the table, which, being a weak lodging-house one, was split from end to end. But the managing director had a soul above furniture at that moment. He hastily put on his hat and strode out of the house.
Making good use of a good horse, he paid sundry32 mysterious visits to various smuggling characters, to all of whom he was particularly agreeable and liberal in the bestowal33 of portions of the thirty thousand pounds with which a too confiding34 public had intrusted him. Among other places, he went to a cottage on a moor35 between St. Just and Penzance, and had a confidential36 interview with a man named Hicks, who was noted37 for his capacity to adapt himself to circumstances (when well paid) without being troubled by conscientious38 scruples39. This man had a son who had once suffered from a broken collar-bone, and whose ears were particularly sharp. He chanced to overhear the conversation at the interview referred to, and dutifully reported the same to his mother, who happened to be a great gossip, and knew much about the private affairs of nearly everybody living within six miles of her. The good woman resolved to make some use of her information, but Mr Clearemout left the cottage in ignorance, of course, of her resolution.
Having transacted40 these little pieces of business, the managing director returned home, and, on the day following, sought and obtained an interview with Rose Ellis in her bower.
Recollecting41 the subject of their last conversation, Rose blushed, as much with indignation as confusion, at being intruded43 upon, but Mr Clearemout at once dispersed44 her angry feelings by assuring her in tones of deferential45 urbanity that he would not have presumed to intrude42 upon her but for the fact that he was about to quit Cornwall without delay, and he wished to talk with her for only a few minutes on business connected with Mr Donnithorne.
There was something so manly46 and straightforward47 in his tone and manner that she could not choose but allow him to sit down beside her, although she did falter48 out something about the propriety49 of talking on her uncle’s business affairs with Mr Donnithorne himself.
“Your observation is most just,” said Mr Clearemout earnestly; “but you are aware that your uncle’s nature is a delicate, sensitive one, and I feel that he would shrink from proposals coming from me, that he might listen to if made to him through you. I need not conceal50 from you, Miss Ellis, that I am acquainted with the losses which your uncle has recently sustained, and no one can appreciate more keenly than I do the harshness with which the world, in its ignorance of details, is apt to judge of the circumstances which brought about this sad state of things. I cannot help feeling deeply the kindness which has been shown me by Mr Donnithorne during my residence here, and I would, if I could, show him some kindness in return.”
Mr Clearemout paused here a few moments as if to reflect. He resolved to assume that Mr Donnithorne’s losses were ruinous, little imagining that in this assumption he was so very near the truth! Rose felt grateful to him for the kind and delicate way in which he referred to her uncle’s altered circumstances.
“Of course,” continued the managing director, “I need not say to you, that his independent spirit would never permit him to accept of assistance in the form which would be most immediately beneficial to him. Indeed, I could not bring myself to offer money even as a loan. But it happens that I have the power, just now, of disposing of the shares which he has taken in Wheal Dooem Mine at a very large profit; and as my hope of the success of that enterprise is very small, I—”
“Very small!” echoed Rose in surprise. “You astonish me, Mr Clearemout. Did I not hear you, only a few nights ago, say that you had the utmost confidence in the success of your undertaking51?”
“Most true,” replied the managing director with a smile; “but in the world of business a few hours work wonderful changes, sometimes, in one’s opinion of things—witness the vacillations and variations ‘on ’Change’—if I may venture to allude52 before a lady to such an incomprehensible subject.”
Rose felt her vigorous little spirit rise, and she was about to return a smart reply in defence of woman’s intelligence even in business matters, but the recollection of the altered relative position in which they now stood restrained her.
“Yes,” continued Mr Clearemout, with a sigh, “the confidence which I felt in Wheal Dooem has been much shaken of late, and the sooner your uncle sells out the better.”
“But would it be right,” said Rose earnestly, “to sell our shares at a high profit if things be as you say?”
“Quite right,” replied Clearemout, with a bland53 smile of honesty; “I believe the mine to be a bad speculation12; my friend, we shall suppose, believes it to be a good one. Believing as I do, I choose to sell out; believing as he does, he chooses to buy in. The simplest thing in the world, Miss Ellis. Done every day with eyes open, I assure you; but it is not every day that a chance occurs so opportunely54 as the present, and I felt it to be a duty to give my friend the benefit of my knowledge before quitting this place—for ever!”
There was something so kind and touching55 in the tone of the managing director that Rose was quite drawn56 towards him, and felt as if she had actually done him an unkindness in refusing him.
“But,” continued her companion, “I can do nothing, Miss Ellis, without your assistance.”
“You shall have it,” said Rose earnestly; “for I would do anything that a woman might venture, to benefit my dear, dear uncle, and I feel assured that you would not ask me to do anything wrong or unwomanly.”
“I would not indeed,” answered Clearemout with emotion; “but the world is apt to misjudge in matters of delicacy57. To ask you to meet me on the cliffs near Priest’s Cove19, close to Cape Cornwall, to-night, would appear wrong in the eyes of the world.”
“And with justice,” said Rose quickly, with a look of mingled58 dignity and surprise.
“Nevertheless, this is absolutely needful, if we would accomplish the object in view. A friend, whom I know to be desirous of purchasing shares in the mine is to pass round the cape in his yacht this evening. The idea of offering these shares to him had not occurred to me when I wrote to say that I would meet him there. He cannot come up here, I know, but the stroke of a pen, with one of the family to witness it, will be sufficient.”
It was a bold stroke of fancy in the managing director to put the matter in such a ridiculously unbusinesslike light, but he counted much on Rose’s ignorance. As for poor Rose herself, she, knew not what to say or do at first, but when Clearemout heaved a sigh, and, with an expression of deep sadness on his countenance59, rose to take leave, she allowed a generous impulse to sway her.
“Your answer, then, is—No,” said Clearemout, with deep pathos60 in his tone.
Now, it chanced that at this critical point in the conversation, Oliver Trembath, having left the cottage, walked over the grass towards a small gate, near which the bower stood. He unavoidably heard the question, and also the quick, earnest reply,—“My answer, Mr Clearemout, is—Yes. I will meet you this evening on the cliff.”
She frankly61 gave him her hand as she spoke62, and he gallantly63 pressed it to his lips, an act which took Rose by surprise, and caused her to pull it away suddenly. She then turned and ran out at the side of the bower to seek the solitude64 of her own apartment, while Clearemout left it by the other side, and stood face to face with the spellbound Oliver.
To say that both gentlemen turned pale as their eyes met would not give an adequate idea of their appearance. Oliver’s heart, as well as his body, when he heard the question and reply, stood still as if he had been paralysed. This, then, he thought, was the end of all his hopes—hopes hardly admitted to himself, and never revealed to Rose, except in unstudied looks and tones. For a few moments his face grew absolutely livid, while he glared at his rival.
On the other hand, Mr Clearemout, believing that the whole of his conversation had been overheard, supposed that he had discovered all his villainy to one who was thoroughly65 able, as well as willing, to thwart66 him. For a moment he felt an almost irresistible67 impulse to spring on and slay68 his enemy; his face became dark with suppressed emotion; and it is quite possible that in the fury of his disappointed malice69 he might have attempted violence,—had not Oliver spoken. His voice was husky as he said,—“Chance, sir—unfortunate, miserable70 chance—led me to overhear the last few words that passed between you and—”
He paused, unable to say more. Instantly the truth flashed across Clearemout’s quick mind. He drew himself up boldly, and the blood returned to his face as he replied,—“If so, sir, you cannot but be aware that the lady’s choice is free, and that your aspect and attitude towards me are unworthy of a gentleman.”
A wonderful influence for weal or woe71 oft-times results from the selection of a phrase or a word. Had Clearemout charged Oliver with insolence72 or presumption73, he would certainly have struck him to the ground; but the words “unworthy of a gentleman” created a revulsion in his feelings. Thought is swifter than light. He saw himself in the position of a disappointed man scowling74 on a successful rival who had done him no injury.
“Thank you, Clearemout. Your rebuke75 is merited,” he said bitterly; and, turning on his heel, he bounded over the low stone wall of the garden, and hastened away.
Whither he went he knew not. A fierce fire seemed to rage in his breast and burn in his brain. At first he walked at full speed, but as he cleared the town he ran—ran as he had never run before. For the time being he was absolutely mad. Over marsh76 and moor he sped, clearing all obstacles with a bound, and making straight for the Land’s End, with no definite purpose in view, for, after a time, he appeared to change his intention, if he had any. He turned sharp to the left, and ran straight to Penzance, never pausing in his mad career until he neared the town. The few labourers he chanced to pass on the way gazed after him in surprise, but he heeded77 not. At the cottage on the moor where he had bandaged the shoulder of the little boy a woman’s voice called loudly, anxiously after him, but he paid no attention. At last he came to a full stop, and, pressing both hands tightly over his forehead, made a terrible effort to collect his thoughts. He was partially78 successful, and, with somewhat of his wonted composure, walked rapidly into the town.
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1
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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affluence
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| n.充裕，富足 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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writ
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| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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smuggling
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| n.走私 | |
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sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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shareholders
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| n.股东( shareholder的名词复数 ) | |
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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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wince
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| n.畏缩，退避，（因痛苦，苦恼等)面部肌肉抽动；v.畏缩，退缩，退避 | |
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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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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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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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infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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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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construed
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| v.解释（陈述、行为等）( construe的过去式和过去分词 )；翻译，作句法分析 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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bestowal
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| 赠与，给与； 贮存 | |
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confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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moor
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confidential
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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transacted
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| v.办理（业务等）( transact的过去式和过去分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
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recollecting
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| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
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intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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intruded
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| n.侵入的，推进的v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的过去式和过去分词 )；把…强加于 | |
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dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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deferential
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| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
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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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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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falter
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| vi.(嗓音)颤抖，结巴地说；犹豫；蹒跚 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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allude
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| v.提及，暗指 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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opportunely
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| adv.恰好地，适时地 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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58
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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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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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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66
thwart
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| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
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67
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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68
slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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69
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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70
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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71
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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72
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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73
presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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74
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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75
rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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76
marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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77
heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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