"Percy! come here!"
Her voice is eager and agitated8. She has opened a last door at the end of the yard, and has started back from some sight which has suddenly met her view. I hitch9 the horses' bridles on a rusty10 nail in the wall near me, and join my wife. She has turned pale, and catches me nervously11 by the arm.
"Good heavens!" she cries; "look at that!"
I look—and what do I see? I see a dingy12 little stable, containing two stalls. In one stall a horse is munching13 his corn. In the other a man is lying asleep on the litter.
A worn, withered14, woebegone man in a hostler's dress. His hollow wrinkled cheeks, his scanty15 grizzled hair, his dry yellow skin, tell their own tale of past sorrow or suffering. There is an ominous16 frown on his eyebrows—there is a painful nervous contraction17 on the side of his mouth. I hear him breathing convulsively when I first look in; he shudders18 and sighs in his sleep. It is not a pleasant sight to see, and I turn round instinctively19 to the bright sunlight in the yard. My wife turns me back again in the direction of the stable door.
"Wait!" she says. "Wait! he may do it again."
"Do what again?"
"He was talking in his sleep, Percy, when I first looked in. He was dreaming some dreadful dream. Hush20! he's beginning again."
I look and listen. The man stirs on his miserable21 bed. The man speaks in a quick, fierce whisper through his clinched22 teeth. "Wake up! Wake up, there! Murder!"
There is an interval23 of silence. He moves one lean arm slowly until it rests over his throat; he shudders, and turns on his straw; he raises his arm from his throat, and feebly stretches it out; his hand clutches at the straw on the side toward which he has turned; he seems to fancy that he is grasping at the edge of something. I see his lips begin to move again; I step softly into the stable; my wife follows me, with her hand fast clasped in mine. We both bend over him. He is talking once more in his sleep—strange talk, mad talk, this time.
"Light gray eyes" (we hear him say), "and a droop24 in the left eyelid—flaxen hair, with a gold-yellow streak25 in it—all right, mother! afair, white arms with a down on them—little, lady's hand, with a reddish look round the fingernails—the knife—the cursed knife—first on one side, then on the other—aha, you she-devil! where is the knife?"
He stops and grows restless on a sudden. We see him writhing26 on the straw. He throws up both his hands and gasps27 hysterically28 for breath. His eyes open suddenly. For a moment they look at nothing, with a vacant glitter in them—then they close again in deeper sleep. Is he dreaming still? Yes; but the dream seems to have taken a new course. When he speaks next, the tone is altered; the words are few—sadly and imploringly29 repeated over and over again. "Say you love me! I am so fond of you. Say you love me! say you love me!" He sinks into deeper and deeper sleep, faintly repeating those words. They die away on his lips. He speaks no more.
By this time Mrs. Fairbank has got over her terror; she is devoured30 by curiosity now. The miserable creature on the straw has appealed to the imaginative side of her character. Her illimitable appetite for romance hungers and thirsts for more. She shakes me impatiently by the arm.
"Do you hear? There is a woman at the bottom of it, Percy! There is love and murder in it, Percy! Where are the people of the inn? Go into the yard, and call to them again."
My wife belongs, on her mother's side, to the South of France. The South of France breeds fine women with hot tempers. I say no more. Married men will understand my position. Single men may need to be told that there are occasions when we must not only love and honor—we must also obey—our wives.
I turn to the door to obey my wife, and find myself confronted by a stranger who has stolen on us unawares. The stranger is a tiny, sleepy, rosy31 old man, with a vacant pudding-face, and a shining bald head. He wears drab breeches and gaiters, and a respectable square-tailed ancient black coat. I feel instinctively that here is the landlord of the inn.
"Good morning, sir," says the rosy old man. "I'm a little hard of hearing. Was it you that was a-calling just now in the yard?"
Before I can answer, my wife interposes. She insists (in a shrill32 voice, adapted to our host's hardness of hearing) on knowing who that unfortunate person is sleeping on the straw. "Where does he come from? Why does he say such dreadful things in his sleep? Is he married or single? Did he ever fall in love with a murderess? What sort of a looking woman was she? Did she really stab him or not? In short, dear Mr. Landlord, tell us the whole story!"
Dear Mr. Landlord waits drowsily33 until Mrs. Fairbank has quite done—then delivers himself of his reply as follows:
"His name's Francis Raven34. He's an Independent Methodist. He was forty-five year old last birthday. And he's my hostler. That's his story."
My wife's hot southern temper finds its way to her foot, and expresses itself by a stamp on the stable yard.
The landlord turns himself sleepily round, and looks at the horses. "A fine pair of horses, them two in the yard. Do you want to put 'em in my stables?" I reply in the affirmative by a nod. The landlord, bent35 on making himself agreeable to my wife, addresses her once more. "I'm a-going to wake Francis Raven. He's an Independent Methodist. He was forty-five year old last birthday. And he's my hostler. That's his story."
Having issued this second edition of his interesting narrative, the landlord enters the stable. We follow him to see how he will wake Francis Raven, and what will happen upon that. The stable broom stands in a corner; the landlord takes it—advances toward the sleeping hostler—and coolly stirs the man up with a broom as if he was a wild beast in a cage. Francis Raven starts to his feet with a cry of terror—looks at us wildly, with a horrid36 glare of suspicion in his eyes—recovers himself the next moment—and suddenly changes into a decent, quiet, respectable serving-man.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am. I beg your pardon, sir."
The tone and manner in which he makes his apologies are both above his apparent station in life. I begin to catch the infection of Mrs. Fairbank's interest in this man. We both follow him out into the yard to see what he will do with the horses. The manner in which he lifts the injured leg of the lame37 horse tells me at once that he understands his business. Quickly and quietly, he leads the animal into an empty stable; quickly and quietly, he gets a bucket of hot water, and puts the lame horse's leg into it. "The warm water will reduce the swelling38, sir. I will bandage the leg afterwards." All that he does is done intelligently; all that he says, he says to the purpose.
Nothing wild, nothing strange about him now. Is this the same man whom we heard talking in his sleep?—the same man who woke with that cry of terror and that horrid suspicion in his eyes? I determine to try him with one or two questions.
点击收听单词发音
1 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 obliterated | |
v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 );涂去;擦掉;彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 shutters | |
百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 ); (照相机的)快门 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 bridles | |
约束( bridle的名词复数 ); 限动器; 马笼头; 系带 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 gracefully | |
ad.大大方方地;优美地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 hitch | |
v.免费搭(车旅行);系住;急提;n.故障;急拉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 rusty | |
adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 nervously | |
adv.神情激动地,不安地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 dingy | |
adj.昏暗的,肮脏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 munching | |
v.用力咀嚼(某物),大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 withered | |
adj. 枯萎的,干瘪的,(人身体的部分器官)因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 scanty | |
adj.缺乏的,仅有的,节省的,狭小的,不够的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 ominous | |
adj.不祥的,不吉的,预兆的,预示的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 contraction | |
n.缩略词,缩写式,害病 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 shudders | |
n.颤动,打颤,战栗( shudder的名词复数 )v.战栗( shudder的第三人称单数 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 instinctively | |
adv.本能地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 hush | |
int.嘘,别出声;n.沉默,静寂;v.使安静 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 clinched | |
v.(尤指两人)互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 );解决(争端、交易),达成(协议) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 droop | |
v.低垂,下垂;凋萎,萎靡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 streak | |
n.条理,斑纹,倾向,少许,痕迹;v.加条纹,变成条纹,奔驰,快速移动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 writhing | |
(因极度痛苦而)扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 gasps | |
v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 hysterically | |
ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 imploringly | |
adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 devoured | |
吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 ); 耗尽; 津津有味地看; 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 rosy | |
adj.美好的,乐观的,玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 shrill | |
adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 drowsily | |
adv.睡地,懒洋洋地,昏昏欲睡地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 raven | |
n.渡鸟,乌鸦;adj.乌亮的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 horrid | |
adj.可怕的;令人惊恐的;恐怖的;极讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 lame | |
adj.跛的,(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 swelling | |
n.肿胀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |