The next day he did not leave the house, and, indeed, spent most of the time in his own room, sick with a wild terror of dying, and yet indifferent to life itself. The consciousness of being hunted, snared1, tracked down, had begun to dominate him. If the tapestry2 did but tremble in the wind, he shook. The dead leaves that were blown against the leaded panes3 seemed to him like his own wasted resolutions and wild regrets. When he closed his eyes, he saw again the sailor's face peering through the mist-stained glass, and horror seemed once more to lay its hand upon his heart.
But perhaps it had been only his fancy that had called vengeance5 out of the night and set the hideous6 shapes of punishment before him. Actual life was chaos7, but there was something terribly logical in the imagination. It was the imagination that set remorse8 to dog the feet of sin. It was the imagination that made each crime bear its misshapen brood. In the common world of fact the wicked were not punished, nor the good rewarded. Success was given to the strong, failure thrust upon the weak. That was all. Besides, had any stranger been prowling round the house, he would have been seen by the servants or the keepers. Had any foot-marks been found on the flower-beds, the gardeners would have reported it. Yes, it had been merely fancy. Sibyl Vane's brother had not come back to kill him. He had sailed away in his ship to founder11 in some winter sea. From him, at any rate, he was safe. Why, the man did not know who he was, could not know who he was. The mask of youth had saved him.
And yet if it had been merely an illusion, how terrible it was to think that conscience could raise such fearful phantoms12, and give them visible form, and make them move before one! What sort of life would his be if, day and night, shadows of his crime were to peer at him from silent corners, to mock him from secret places, to whisper in his ear as he sat at the feast, to wake him with icy fingers as he lay asleep! As the thought crept through his brain, he grew pale with terror, and the air seemed to him to have become suddenly colder. Oh! in what a wild hour of madness he had killed his friend! How ghastly the mere10 memory of the scene! He saw it all again. Each hideous detail came back to him with added horror. Out of the black cave of time, terrible and swathed in scarlet13, rose the image of his sin. When Lord Henry came in at six o'clock, he found him crying as one whose heart will break.
It was not till the third day that he ventured to go out. There was something in the clear, pine-scented air of that winter morning that seemed to bring him back his joyousness14 and his ardour for life. But it was not merely the physical conditions of environment that had caused the change. His own nature had revolted against the excess of anguish15 that had sought to maim16 and mar9 the perfection of its calm. With subtle and finely wrought17 temperaments18 it is always so. Their strong passions must either bruise19 or bend. They either slay20 the man, or themselves die. Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude. Besides, he had convinced himself that he had been the victim of a terror-stricken imagination, and looked back now on his fears with something of pity and not a little of contempt.
After breakfast, he walked with the duchess for an hour in the garden and then drove across the park to join the shooting-party. The crisp frost lay like salt upon the grass. The sky was an inverted21 cup of blue metal. A thin film of ice bordered the flat, reed-grown lake.
At the corner of the pine-wood he caught sight of Sir Geoffrey Clouston, the duchess's brother, jerking two spent cartridges22 out of his gun. He jumped from the cart, and having told the groom23 to take the mare24 home, made his way towards his guest through the withered25 bracken and rough undergrowth.
"Have you had good sport, Geoffrey?" he asked.
"Not very good, Dorian. I think most of the birds have gone to the open. I dare say it will be better after lunch, when we get to new ground."
Dorian strolled along by his side. The keen aromatic26 air, the brown and red lights that glimmered27 in the wood, the hoarse28 cries of the beaters ringing out from time to time, and the sharp snaps of the guns that followed, fascinated him and filled him with a sense of delightful29 freedom. He was dominated by the carelessness of happiness, by the high indifference30 of joy.
Suddenly from a lumpy tussock of old grass some twenty yards in front of them, with black-tipped ears erect31 and long hinder limbs throwing it forward, started a hare. It bolted for a thicket32 of alders33. Sir Geoffrey put his gun to his shoulder, but there was something in the animal's grace of movement that strangely charmed Dorian Gray, and he cried out at once, "Don't shoot it, Geoffrey. Let it live."
"What nonsense, Dorian!" laughed his companion, and as the hare bounded into the thicket, he fired. There were two cries heard, the cry of a hare in pain, which is dreadful, the cry of a man in agony, which is worse.
"Good heavens! I have hit a beater!" exclaimed Sir Geoffrey. "What an ass4 the man was to get in front of the guns! Stop shooting there!" he called out at the top of his voice. "A man is hurt."
The head-keeper came running up with a stick in his hand.
"Where, sir? Where is he?" he shouted. At the same time, the firing ceased along the line.
"Here," answered Sir Geoffrey angrily, hurrying towards the thicket. "Why on earth don't you keep your men back? Spoiled my shooting for the day."
Dorian watched them as they plunged34 into the alder-clump, brushing the lithe35 swinging branches aside. In a few moments they emerged, dragging a body after them into the sunlight. He turned away in horror. It seemed to him that misfortune followed wherever he went. He heard Sir Geoffrey ask if the man was really dead, and the affirmative answer of the keeper. The wood seemed to him to have become suddenly alive with faces. There was the trampling37 of myriad38 feet and the low buzz of voices. A great copper-breasted pheasant came beating through the boughs39 overhead.
After a few moments--that were to him, in his perturbed40 state, like endless hours of pain--he felt a hand laid on his shoulder. He started and looked round.
"Dorian," said Lord Henry, "I had better tell them that the shooting is stopped for to-day. It would not look well to go on."
"I wish it were stopped for ever, Harry41," he answered bitterly. "The whole thing is hideous and cruel. Is the man ... ?"
He could not finish the sentence.
"I am afraid so," rejoined Lord Henry. "He got the whole charge of shot in his chest. He must have died almost instantaneously. Come; let us go home."
They walked side by side in the direction of the avenue for nearly fifty yards without speaking. Then Dorian looked at Lord Henry and said, with a heavy sigh, "It is a bad omen36, Harry, a very bad omen."
"What is?" asked Lord Henry. "Oh! this accident, I suppose. My dear fellow, it can't be helped. It was the man's own fault. Why did he get in front of the guns? Besides, it is nothing to us. It is rather awkward for Geoffrey, of course. It does not do to pepper beaters. It makes people think that one is a wild shot. And Geoffrey is not; he shoots very straight. But there is no use talking about the matter."
Dorian shook his head. "It is a bad omen, Harry. I feel as if something horrible were going to happen to some of us. To myself, perhaps," he added, passing his hand over his eyes, with a gesture of pain.
The elder man laughed. "The only horrible thing in the world is ennui42, Dorian. That is the one sin for which there is no forgiveness. But we are not likely to suffer from it unless these fellows keep chattering43 about this thing at dinner. I must tell them that the subject is to be tabooed. As for omens44, there is no such thing as an omen. Destiny does not send us heralds45. She is too wise or too cruel for that. Besides, what on earth could happen to you, Dorian? You have everything in the world that a man can want. There is no one who would not be delighted to change places with you."
"There is no one with whom I would not change places, Harry. Don't laugh like that. I am telling you the truth. The wretched peasant who has just died is better off than I am. I have no terror of death. It is the coming of death that terrifies me. Its monstrous46 wings seem to wheel in the leaden air around me. Good heavens! don't you see a man moving behind the trees there, watching me, waiting for me?"
Lord Henry looked in the direction in which the trembling gloved hand was pointing. "Yes," he said, smiling, "I see the gardener waiting for you. I suppose he wants to ask you what flowers you wish to have on the table to-night. How absurdly nervous you are, my dear fellow! You must come and see my doctor, when we get back to town."
Dorian heaved a sigh of relief as he saw the gardener approaching. The man touched his hat, glanced for a moment at Lord Henry in a hesitating manner, and then produced a letter, which he handed to his master. "Her Grace told me to wait for an answer," he murmured.
Dorian put the letter into his pocket. "Tell her Grace that I am coming in," he said, coldly. The man turned round and went rapidly in the direction of the house.
"How fond women are of doing dangerous things!" laughed Lord Henry. "It is one of the qualities in them that I admire most. A woman will flirt47 with anybody in the world as long as other people are looking on."
"How fond you are of saying dangerous things, Harry! In the present instance, you are quite astray. I like the duchess very much, but I don't love her."
"And the duchess loves you very much, but she likes you less, so you are excellently matched."
"You are talking scandal, Harry, and there is never any basis for scandal."
"The basis of every scandal is an immoral48 certainty," said Lord Henry, lighting49 a cigarette.
"You would sacrifice anybody, Harry, for the sake of an epigram."
"The world goes to the altar of its own accord," was the answer.
"I wish I could love," cried Dorian Gray with a deep note of pathos50 in his voice. "But I seem to have lost the passion and forgotten the desire. I am too much concentrated on myself. My own personality has become a burden to me. I want to escape, to go away, to forget. It was silly of me to come down here at all. I think I shall send a wire to Harvey to have the yacht got ready. On a yacht one is safe."
"Safe from what, Dorian? You are in some trouble. Why not tell me what it is? You know I would help you."
"I can't tell you, Harry," he answered sadly. "And I dare say it is only a fancy of mine. This unfortunate accident has upset me. I have a horrible presentiment51 that something of the kind may happen to me."
"What nonsense!"
"I hope it is, but I can't help feeling it. Ah! here is the duchess, looking like Artemis in a tailor-made gown. You see we have come back, Duchess."
"I have heard all about it, Mr. Gray," she answered. "Poor Geoffrey is terribly upset. And it seems that you asked him not to shoot the hare. How curious!"
"Yes, it was very curious. I don't know what made me say it. Some whim52, I suppose. It looked the loveliest of little live things. But I am sorry they told you about the man. It is a hideous subject."
"It is an annoying subject," broke in Lord Henry. "It has no psychological value at all. Now if Geoffrey had done the thing on purpose, how interesting he would be! I should like to know some one who had committed a real murder."
"How horrid53 of you, Harry!" cried the duchess. "Isn't it, Mr. Gray? Harry, Mr. Gray is ill again. He is going to faint."
Dorian drew himself up with an effort and smiled. "It is nothing, Duchess," he murmured; "my nerves are dreadfully out of order. That is all. I am afraid I walked too far this morning. I didn't hear what Harry said. Was it very bad? You must tell me some other time. I think I must go and lie down. You will excuse me, won't you?"
They had reached the great flight of steps that led from the conservatory54 on to the terrace. As the glass door closed behind Dorian, Lord Henry turned and looked at the duchess with his slumberous55 eyes. "Are you very much in love with him?" he asked.
She did not answer for some time, but stood gazing at the landscape. "I wish I knew," she said at last.
He shook his head. "Knowledge would be fatal. It is the uncertainty56 that charms one. A mist makes things wonderful."
"One may lose one's way."
"All ways end at the same point, my dear Gladys."
"What is that?"
"It was my debut58 in life," she sighed.
"It came to you crowned."
"I am tired of strawberry leaves."
"They become you."
"Only in public."
"You would miss them," said Lord Henry.
"I will not part with a petal59."
"Monmouth has ears."
"Old age is dull of hearing."
"Has he never been jealous?"
"I wish he had been."
He glanced about as if in search of something. "What are you looking for?" she inquired.
"The button from your foil," he answered. "You have dropped it."
She laughed. "I have still the mask."
"It makes your eyes lovelier," was his reply.
She laughed again. Her teeth showed like white seeds in a scarlet fruit.
Upstairs, in his own room, Dorian Gray was lying on a sofa, with terror in every tingling60 fibre of his body. Life had suddenly become too hideous a burden for him to bear. The dreadful death of the unlucky beater, shot in the thicket like a wild animal, had seemed to him to pre-figure death for himself also. He had nearly swooned at what Lord Henry had said in a chance mood of cynical61 jesting.
At five o'clock he rang his bell for his servant and gave him orders to pack his things for the night-express to town, and to have the brougham at the door by eight-thirty. He was determined62 not to sleep another night at Selby Royal. It was an ill-omened place. Death walked there in the sunlight. The grass of the forest had been spotted63 with blood.
Then he wrote a note to Lord Henry, telling him that he was going up to town to consult his doctor and asking him to entertain his guests in his absence. As he was putting it into the envelope, a knock came to the door, and his valet informed him that the head-keeper wished to see him. He frowned and bit his lip. "Send him in," he muttered, after some moments' hesitation64.
As soon as the man entered, Dorian pulled his chequebook out of a drawer and spread it out before him.
"I suppose you have come about the unfortunate accident of this morning, Thornton?" he said, taking up a pen.
"Yes, sir," answered the gamekeeper.
"Was the poor fellow married? Had he any people dependent on him?" asked Dorian, looking bored. "If so, I should not like them to be left in want, and will send them any sum of money you may think necessary."
"We don't know who he is, sir. That is what I took the liberty of coming to you about."
"Don't know who he is?" said Dorian, listlessly. "What do you mean? Wasn't he one of your men?"
"No, sir. Never saw him before. Seems like a sailor, sir."
The pen dropped from Dorian Gray's hand, and he felt as if his heart had suddenly stopped beating. "A sailor?" he cried out. "Did you say a sailor?"
"Yes, sir. He looks as if he had been a sort of sailor; tattooed65 on both arms, and that kind of thing."
"Was there anything found on him?" said Dorian, leaning forward and looking at the man with startled eyes. "Anything that would tell his name?"
"Some money, sir--not much, and a six-shooter. There was no name of any kind. A decent-looking man, sir, but rough-like. A sort of sailor we think."
Dorian started to his feet. A terrible hope fluttered past him. He clutched at it madly. "Where is the body?" he exclaimed. "Quick! I must see it at once."
"It is in an empty stable in the Home Farm, sir. The folk don't like to have that sort of thing in their houses. They say a corpse66 brings bad luck."
"The Home Farm! Go there at once and meet me. Tell one of the grooms67 to bring my horse round. No. Never mind. I'll go to the stables myself. It will save time."
In less than a quarter of an hour, Dorian Gray was galloping68 down the long avenue as hard as he could go. The trees seemed to sweep past him in spectral69 procession, and wild shadows to fling themselves across his path. Once the mare swerved70 at a white gate-post and nearly threw him. He lashed71 her across the neck with his crop. She cleft72 the dusky air like an arrow. The stones flew from her hoofs73.
At last he reached the Home Farm. Two men were loitering in the yard. He leaped from the saddle and threw the reins74 to one of them. In the farthest stable a light was glimmering75. Something seemed to tell him that the body was there, and he hurried to the door and put his hand upon the latch76.
There he paused for a moment, feeling that he was on the brink77 of a discovery that would either make or mar his life. Then he thrust the door open and entered.
On a heap of sacking in the far corner was lying the dead body of a man dressed in a coarse shirt and a pair of blue trousers. A spotted handkerchief had been placed over the face. A coarse candle, stuck in a bottle, sputtered78 beside it.
Dorian Gray shuddered79. He felt that his could not be the hand to take the handkerchief away, and called out to one of the farm-servants to come to him.
"Take that thing off the face. I wish to see it," he said, clutching at the door-post for support.
When the farm-servant had done so, he stepped forward. A cry of joy broke from his lips. The man who had been shot in the thicket was James Vane.
He stood there for some minutes looking at the dead body. As he rode home, his eyes were full of tears, for he knew he was safe.
收听单词发音 |
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snared
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| v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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mar
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| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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joyousness
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| 快乐，使人喜悦 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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maim
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| v.使残废，使不能工作，使伤残 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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temperaments
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| 性格( temperament的名词复数 )； （人或动物的）气质； 易冲动； （性情）暴躁 | |
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bruise
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| n.青肿，挫伤；伤痕；vt.打青；挫伤 | |
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slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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inverted
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| adj.反向的，倒转的v.使倒置，使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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withered
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| 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 | |
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aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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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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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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alders
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| n.桤木( alder的名词复数 ) | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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ennui
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| n.怠倦，无聊 | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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omens
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| n.前兆，预兆( omen的名词复数 ) | |
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heralds
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| n.使者( herald的名词复数 )；预报者；预兆；传令官v.预示( herald的第三人称单数 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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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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flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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53
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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slumberous
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| a.昏昏欲睡的 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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57
disillusion
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| vt.使不再抱幻想，使理想破灭 | |
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debut
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| n.首次演出，初次露面 | |
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petal
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| n.花瓣 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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tattooed
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| v.刺青，文身( tattoo的过去式和过去分词 )；连续有节奏地敲击；作连续有节奏的敲击 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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grooms
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| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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sputtered
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| v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的过去式和过去分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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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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