The False Step.
There is a dividing ridge1 in the great northern wilderness2 of America, whereon lies a lakelet of not more than twenty yards in diameter. It is of crystal clearness and profound depth, and on the still evenings of the Indian summer its surface forms a perfect mirror, which might serve as a toilet-glass for a Redskin princess.
We have stood by the side of that lakelet and failed to note the slightest symptom of motion in it, yet somewhere in its centre there was going on a constant and mysterious division of watery3 particles, and those of them which glided4 imperceptibly to the right flowed southward to the Atlantic, while those that trembled to the left found a resting-place by the frozen shores of Hudson’s Bay.
As it is with the flow and final exit of those waters, so is it, sometimes, if not always, with the spirit and destiny of man.
Miles Milton, our hero, at the age of nineteen, stood at the dividing ridge of his life. If the oscillating spirit, trembling between right and wrong, had decided5 to lean to the right, what might have been his fate no one can tell. He paused on the balance a short time, then he leaned over to the left, and what his fate was it is the purpose of this volume to disclose. At the outset, we may remark that it was not unmixed good. Neither was it unmitigated evil.
Miles had a strong body, a strong will, and a somewhat passionate6 temper: a compound which is closely allied7 to dynamite8!
His father, unfortunately, was composed of much the same materials. The consequences were sometimes explosive. It might have profited the son much had he studied the Scripture9 lesson, “Children, obey your parents in the Lord.” Not less might it have benefited the father to have pondered the words, “Fathers, provoke not your children to wrath10.”
Young Milton had set his heart on going into the army. Old Milton had resolved to thwart11 the desire of his son. The mother Milton, a meek12 and loving soul, experienced some hard times between the two. Both loved her intensely, and each loved himself, not better perhaps, but too much!
It is a sad task to have to recount the disputes between a father and a son. We shrink from it and turn away. Suffice it to say that one day Miles and his father had a Vesuvian meeting on the subject of the army. The son became petulant13 and unreasonable14; the father fierce and tyrannical. The end was that they parted in anger.
“Go, sir,” cried the father sternly; “when you are in a better frame of mind you may return.”
“Yes, father, I will go,” cried the son, starting up, “and I will never return.”
Poor youth! He was both right and wrong in this prophetic speech. He did return home, but he did not return to his father.
With fevered pulse and throbbing15 heart he rushed into a plantation17 that lay at the back of his father’s house. He had no definite intention save to relieve his feelings by violent action. Running at full speed, he came suddenly to a disused quarry18 that was full of water. It had long been a familiar haunt as a bathing-pool. Many a time in years past had he leaped off its precipitous margin19 into the deep water, and wantoned there in all the abandonment of exuberant20 youth. The leap was about thirty feet, the depth of water probably greater. Constant practice had rendered Miles so expert at diving and swimming that he had come to feel as much at home in the water as a New-Zealander.
Casting off his garments, he took the accustomed plunge21 by way of cooling his heart and brain. He came up from the depths refreshed, but not restored to equanimity22. While dressing23, the sense of injustice24 returned as strongly as before, and, with it, the hot indignation, so that on afterwards reaching the highway he paused only for a few moments. This was the critical point. Slowly but decidedly he leaned to the left. He turned his back on his father’s house, and caused the stones to spurt25 from under his heels as he walked rapidly away.
If Miles Milton had thought of his mother at that time he might have escaped many a day of bitter repentance26, for she was as gentle as her husband was harsh; but the angry youth either forgot her at the moment, or, more probably, thrust the thought of her away.
Poor mother! if she had only known what a conflict between good and evil was going on in the breast of her boy, how she would have agonised in prayer for him! But she did not know. There was, however, One who did know, who loved him better even than his mother, and who watched and guarded him throughout all his chequered career.
It is not improbable that in spite of his resolves Miles would have relented before night and returned home had not a very singular incident intervened and closed the door behind him.
That day a notorious swindler had been tracked by a red-haired detective to the manufacturing city to which Miles first directed his steps. The bills describing the swindler set forth27 that he was quite young, tall, handsome, broad-shouldered, with black curling hair, and a budding moustache; that he was dressed in grey tweeds, and had a prepossessing manner. Now this chanced to be in some respects an exact description of Miles Milton!
The budding moustache, to be sure, was barely discernible, still it was sufficiently28 so for a detective to found on. His dress, too, was brown tweed, not grey; but of course dresses can be changed; and as to his manner, there could not be two opinions about that.
Now it chanced to be past one o’clock when Miles entered the town and felt himself impelled29 by familiar sensations to pause in front of an eating-house. It was a poor eating-house in a low district, but Miles was not particular; still further, it was a temperance coffee-house, but Miles cared nothing for strong drink. Strong health and spirits had served his purpose admirably up to that date.
Inside the eating-house there sat several men of the artisan class, and a few of the nondescript variety. Among the latter was the red-haired detective. He was engaged with a solid beef-steak.
“Oho!” escaped softly from his lips, when his sharp eyes caught sight of our hero. So softly did he utter the exclamation30 that it might have been a mere31 remark of appreciation32 addressed to the steak, from which he did not again raise his eyes for a considerable time.
The place was very full of people—so full that there seemed scarcely room for another guest; but by some almost imperceptible motion the red-haired man made a little space close to himself. The man next to him, with a hook-nose, widened the space by similar action, and Miles, perceiving that there was room, sat down.
“Bread and cheese,” he said to the waiter.
“Bread an’ cheese, sir? Yessir.”
Miles was soon actively33 engaged in mechanically feeding, while his mind was busy as to future plans.
Presently he became aware that the men on either side of him were scanning his features and person with peculiar34 attention.
“Coldish weather,” remarked the red-haired man, looking at him in a friendly way.
“It is,” replied Miles, civilly enough.
“Rather cold for bathin’, ain’t it, sir?” continued the detective carelessly, picking his teeth with a quill35.
“How did you know that I’ve been bathing?” demanded Miles in surprise.
“I didn’t know it.”
“How did you guess it then?”
“Vell, it ain’t difficult to guess that a young feller ’as bin16 ’avin’ a swim w’en you see the ’air of ’is ’ead hall vet36, an’ ’is pocket-’ankercher lookin’ as if it ’ad done dooty for a towel, not to mention ’is veskit ’avin’ bin putt on in a ’urry, so as the buttons ain’t got into the right ’oles, you see!”
Miles laughed, and resumed his bread and cheese.
“You are observant, I perceive,” he said.
“Not wery partiklarly so,” returned Redhair; “but I do obsarve that your boots tell of country roads. Was it a long way hout of town as you was bathin’ this forenoon, now?”
There was a free and easy familiarity about the man’s tone which Miles resented, but, not wishing to run the risk of a disagreement in such company, he answered quietly— “Yes, a considerable distance; it was in an old quarry where I often bathe, close to my father’s house.”
“Ha! jest so, about ’alf-way to the willage of Ramplin’, w’ere you slep’ last night, if report speaks true, an’ w’ere you left the grey tweeds, unless, p’r’aps, you sunk ’em in the old quarry.”
“Why, what on earth do you mean?” asked Miles, with a look of such genuine surprise that Redhair was puzzled, and the man with the hooked nose, who had been listening attentively37, looked slightly confused.
“Read that, sir,” said the detective, extracting a newspaper cutting from his pocket and laying it on the table before Miles.
While he read, the two men watched him with interest, so did some of those who sat near, for they began to perceive that something was “in the wind.”
The tell-tale blood sprang to the youth’s brow as he read and perceived the meaning of the man’s remarks. At this Redhair and Hook-nose nodded to each other significantly.
“You don’t mean to say,” exclaimed Miles, in a tone of grand indignation which confirmed the men in their suspicion, “that you think this description applies to me?”
“I wouldn’t insinivate too much, sir, though I have got my suspicions,” said Redhair blandly38; “but of course that’s easy settled, for if your father’s ’ouse is anyw’ere hereabouts, your father won’t object to identify his son.”
“Ridiculous!” exclaimed Miles, rising angrily at this interruption to his plans. The two men rose promptly39 at the same moment. “Of course my father will prove that you have made a mistake, but—”
He hesitated in some confusion, for the idea of re-appearing before his father so soon, and in such company, after so stoutly40 asserting that he would never more return, was humiliating. The detective observed the hesitation41 and became jocose42.
“If you’d rather not trouble your parent,” said Redhair, “you’ve got no call to do it. The station ain’t far off, and the sooner we get there the better for all parties.”
A slight clink of metal at this point made Miles aware of the fact that Hook-nose was drawing a pair of handcuffs from one of his pockets.
The full significance of his position suddenly burst upon him. The thought of being led home a prisoner, or conveyed to the police-station handcuffed, maddened him; and the idea of being thus unjustly checked at the very outset of his independent career made him furious. For a few moments he stood so perfectly43 still and quiet that the detectives were thrown slightly off their guard. Then there was an explosion of some sort within the breast of Miles Milton. It expended44 itself in a sudden impulse, which sent Redhead flat on the table among the crockery, and drove Hook-nose into the fireplace among the fire-irons. A fat little man chanced to be standing45 in the door-way. The same impulse, modified, shot that little man into the street like a cork46 out of a bottle, and next moment Miles was flying along the pavement at racing47 speed, horrified48 at what he had done, but utterly49 reckless as to what might follow!
Hearing the shouts of pursuers behind him, and being incommoded by passers-by in the crowded thoroughfare, Miles turned sharply into a by-street, and would have easily made his escape—being uncommonly50 swift of foot—had he not been observed by an active little man of supple52 frame and presumptuous53 tendencies. Unlike the mass of mankind around him—who stared and wondered—the active little man took in the situation at a glance, joined in the pursuit, kept well up, thus forming a sort of connecting-link between the fugitive54 and pursuers, and even took upon himself to shout “Stop thief!” as he ran. Miles endeavoured to throw him off by putting on, as schoolboys have it, “a spurt.” But the active little man also spurted55 and did not fall far behind. Then Miles tried a second double, and got into a narrow street, which a single glance showed him was a blind alley56! Disappointment and anger hereupon took possession of him, and he turned at bay with the tiger-like resolve to run a-muck!
Fortunately for himself he observed a pot of whitewash57 standing near a half-whitened wall, with a dirty canvas frock and a soiled billycock lying beside it. The owner of the property had left it inopportunely, for, quick as thought, Miles wriggled58 into the frock, flung on the billycock, seized the pot, and walked in a leisurely59 way to the head of the alley. He reached it just as the active little man turned into it, at the rate of ten miles an hour. A yell of “Stop thief!” issued from the man’s presumptuous lips at the moment.
His injunction was obeyed to the letter, for the would-be thief of an honest man’s character on insufficient60 evidence was stopped by Miles’s bulky person so violently that the whitewash was scattered61 all about, and part of it went into the active man’s eyes.
To squash the large brush into the little man’s face, and thus effectually complete what his own recklessness had begun, was the work of an instant. As he did it, Miles assumed the r?le of the injured party, suiting his language to his condition.
“What d’ee mean by that, you houtrageous willain?” he cried savagely62, to the great amusement of the bystanders, who instantly formed a crowd round them. “Look wot a mess you’ve bin an’ made o’ my clean frock! Don’t you see?”
The poor little man could not see. He could only cough and gasp63 and wipe his face with his coat-tails.
“I’d give you in charge o’ the pleece, I would, if it wasn’t that you’ve pretty well punished yourself a’ready,” continued Miles. “Take ’im to a pump some o’ you, ’cause I ain’t got time. Good-day, spider-legs, an’ don’t go for to run into a hartist again, with a paint-pot in ’is ’and.”
So saying, Miles pushed through the laughing crowd and sauntered away. He turned into the first street he came to, and then went forward as fast as was consistent with the idea of an artisan in a hurry. Being utterly ignorant of the particular locality into which he had penetrated—though well enough acquainted with the main thoroughfares of the city—his only care was to put as many intricate streets and lanes as possible between himself and the detectives. This was soon done, and thereafter, turning into a darkish passage, he got rid of the paint-pot and borrowed costume.
Fortunately he had thrust his own soft helmet-shaped cap into his breast at the time he put on the billycock, and was thus enabled to issue from the dark passage very much like his former self, with the exception of a few spots of whitewash, which were soon removed.
Feeling now pretty safe, our hero walked a considerable distance through the unknown parts of the city before he ventured to inquire the way to thoroughfares with which he was familiar. Once in these, he proceeded at a smart pace to one of the railway stations, intending to leave town, though as yet he had formed no definite plan of action. In truth, his mind was much troubled and confused by the action of his conscience, for when the thought of leaving home and entering the army as a private soldier, against his father’s wishes, crossed his mind, Conscience faithfully shook his head; and when softer feelings prevailed, and the question arose irresistibly64, “Shall I return home?” the same faithful friend whispered, “Yes.”
In a state of indecision, Miles found himself borne along by a human stream to the booking-office. Immediately in front of him were two soldiers,—one a sergeant65, and the other a private of the line.
Both were tall handsome men, straight as arrows, and with that air of self-sufficient power which is as far removed from arrogance66 as it is from cowardice67, and is by no means an uncommon51 feature in men of the British army.
Miles felt a strong, unaccountable attraction towards the young private. He had not yet heard his voice nor encountered his eye; indeed, being behind him, he had only seen his side-face, and as the expression on it was that of stern gravity, the attractive power could not have lain in that. It might have lain in the youthful look of the lad, for albeit68 a goodly man in person, he was almost a boy in countenance69, being apparently70 not yet twenty years of age.
Miles was at last roused to the necessity for prompt and decisive action by the voice of the sergeant saying in tones of authority—
“Portsmouth—third—two—single.”
“Now, then, sir, your carridge stops the way. ’Eave a’ead. Shall I ’elp you?” said the shabby man.
Thus admonished73, Miles, scarce knowing what he said, repeated the sergeant’s words—
“Portsmouth—third—two—single.”
“Vy, you ain’t agoin’ to pay for me, are you?” exclaimed the shabby man in smiling surprise.
“Oh! beg pardon. I mean one,” said Miles to the clerk, quickly.
The clerk retracted74 the second ticket with stolid75 indifference76, and Miles, hastening to the platform, sat down on a seat, deeply and uncomfortably impressed with the fact that he possessed77 little or no money! This unsatisfactory state of things had suddenly burst upon him while in the act of paying for his ticket. He now made a careful examination of his purse, and found its contents to be exactly seven shillings and sixpence, besides a few coppers78 in his trousers-pocket.
Again indecision assailed79 him. Should he return? It was not too late. “Yes,” said Conscience, with emphasis. “No,” said Shame. False pride echoed the word, and Self-will re-echoed it. Still our hero hesitated, and there is no saying what the upshot might have been if the bell had not rung at the moment, and, “Now, then, take your seats!” put an end to the controversy80.
Another minute, and Miles Milton was seated opposite the two soldiers, rushing towards our great southern seaport81 at the rate of forty miles an hour.
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1
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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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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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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dynamite
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| n./vt.(用)炸药(爆破) | |
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scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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thwart
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| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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petulant
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| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
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unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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spurt
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| v.喷出；突然进发；突然兴隆 | |
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repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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actively
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| adv.积极地，勤奋地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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quill
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| n.羽毛管；v.给（织物或衣服）作皱褶 | |
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vet
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| n.兽医，退役军人；vt.检查 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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jocose
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| adj.开玩笑的，滑稽的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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expended
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| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
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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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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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52
supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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presumptuous
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| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
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fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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spurted
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| （液体，火焰等）喷出，（使）涌出( spurt的过去式和过去分词 )； （短暂地）加速前进，冲刺 | |
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alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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whitewash
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| v.粉刷，掩饰；n.石灰水，粉刷，掩饰 | |
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wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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63
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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64
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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65
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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66
arrogance
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| n.傲慢，自大 | |
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67
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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68
albeit
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| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
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69
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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70
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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71
lobster
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| n.龙虾，龙虾肉 | |
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72
squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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73
admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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74
retracted
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| v.撤回或撤消( retract的过去式和过去分词 )；拒绝执行或遵守；缩回；拉回 | |
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75
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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77
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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78
coppers
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| 铜( copper的名词复数 )； 铜币 | |
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79
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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80
controversy
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| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
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81
seaport
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| n.海港，港口，港市 | |
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