Every day he saw more or less of the Rev2. Isaac Dixie, but never alluded3 to his midnight interview with him at Clay Rectory. Only once, a little abruptly4, he had said to him, as they walked together on the green ——
“I say, you must manage your duty for two Sundays more — you must stay here for the funeral — that will be on Tuesday week.”
Cleve said no more; but he looked at him with a fixed5 meaning in his eye, with which the clergyman somehow could not parley6.
At the post-office, to which Miss Oldys had begged his escort, a letter awaited him. His address was traced in the delicate and peculiar7 hand of that beautiful being who in those very scenes had once filled every hour of his life with dreams, and doubts, and hopes; and now how did he feel as those slender characters met his eye? Shall I say, as the murderer feels when some relic8 of his buried crime is accidentally turned up before his eyes — chilled with a pain that reaches on to doomsday — with a tremor9 of madness — with an insufferable disgust?
Smiling, he put it with his other letters in his pocket, and felt as if every eye looked on him with suspicion — with dislike; and as if little voices in the air were whispering, “It is from his wife — from his wife — from his wife.”
Tom Sedley was almost by his side, and had just got his letters — filling him, too, with dismay — posted not ten minutes before from Malory, and smiting10 his last hope to the centre.
“Look at it, Cleve,” he said, half an hour later. “I thought all these things might have softened11 him — his own illness and his mother’s death; and the Etherages — by Jove, I think he’ll ruin them; the poor old man is going to leave Hazelden in two or three weeks, and — and he’s utterly12 ruined I think, and all by that d — d lawsuit13, that Larkin knows perfectly14 well Lord Verney can never succeed in; but in the meantime it will be the ruin of that nice family, that were so happy there; and look — here it is — my own letter returned — so insulting — like a beggar’s petition; and this note — not even signed by him.”
“Lord Verney is indisposed; he has already expressed his fixed opinion upon the subject referred to in Mr. Sedley’s statement, which he returns; he declines discussing it, and refers Mr. Sedley again to his solicitor15.”
So, disconsolate16 Sedley, having opened his griefs to Cleve, went on to Hazelden, where he was only too sure to meet with a thoroughly17 sympathetic audience.
A week passed, and more. And now came the day of old Lady Verney’s funeral. It was a long procession — tenants18 on horseback, tenants on foot — the carriages of all the gentlemen round about.
On its way to Penruthyn Priory the procession passed by the road, ascending19 the steep by the little church of Llanderris, and full in view, through a vista20 in the trees, of the upper windows of the steward’s house.
Our friend Mr. Dingwell, whose journey had cost him a cold, got his clothes on for this occasion, and was in the window, with a field-glass, which had amused him on the road from London.
He had called up Mrs. Mervyn’s servant girl to help him to the names of such people as she might recognise.
As the hearse, with its grove21 of sable22 plumes23, passed up the steep road, he was grave for a few minutes; and he said —
“That was a good woman. Well for you, ma’am, if you have ever one-twentieth part of her virtues24. She did not know how to make her virtues pleasant, though; she liked to have people afraid of her; and if you have people afraid of you, my dear, the odds26 are they’ll hate you. We can’t have everything — virtue25 and softness, fear and love — in this queer world. An excellent — severe — most ladylike woman. What are they stopping for now? Oh! There they go again. The only ungenteel thing she ever did is what she has begun to do now — to rot; but she’ll do it alone, in the dark, you see; and there is a right and a wrong, and she did some good in her day.”
The end of his queer homily he spoke27 in a tone a little gloomy, and he followed the hearse awhile with his glass.
In two or three minutes more the girl thought she heard him sob28; and looking up, with a shock, perceived that his face was gleaming with a sinister29 laugh.
“What a precious coxcomb30 that fellow Cleve is — chief mourner, egad — and he does it pretty well. ‘My inky cloak, good mother.’ He looks so sorry, I almost believe he’s thinking of his uncle’s wedding. ‘Thrift31, Horatio, thrift!’ I say, miss — I always forget your name. My dear young lady, be so good, will you, as to say I feel better today, and should be very happy to see Mrs. Mervyn, if she could give me ten minutes?”
So she ran down upon her errand, and he drew back from the window, suffering the curtain to fall back as before, darkening the room; and Mr. Dingwell sat himself down, with his back to the little light that entered, drawing his robe-dechambre about him and resting his chin on his hand.
“Come in, ma’am,” said Mr. Dingwell, in answer to a tap at the door, and Mrs. Mervyn entered. She looked in the direction of the speaker, but could see only a shadowy outline, the room was so dark.
“Pray, madam, sit down on the chair I’ve set for you by the table. I’m at last well enough to see you. You’ll have questions to put to me. I’ll be happy to tell you all I know. I was with poor Arthur Verney, as you are aware, when he died.”
“I have but one hope now, sir — to see him hereafter. Oh, sir! did he think of his unhappy soul — of heaven.”
“Of the other place he did think, ma’am. I’ve heard him wish evil people, such as clumsy servants and his brother here, in it; but I suppose you mean to ask was he devout32 — eh?”
“Yes, sir; it has been my prayer, day and night, in my long solitude33. What prayers, what prayers, what terrible prayers, God only knows.”
“Your prayers were heard, ma’am; he was a saint.”
“Thank God!”
“The most punctual, edifying34, self-tormenting saint I ever had the pleasure of knowing in any quarter of the globe,” said Mr. Dingwell.
“Oh! thank God.”
“His reputation for sanctity in Constantinople was immense, and at both sides of the Bosphorus he was the admiration35 of the old women and the wonder of the little boys, and an excellent Dervish, a friend of his, who was obliged to leave after having been bastinadoed for a petty larceny36, told me he has seen even the town dogs and the asses37 hold down their heads, upon my life, as he passed by, to receive his blessing38!”
“Superstition — but still it shows, sir”——
“To be sure it does, ma’am.”
“It shows that his sufferings — my darling Arthur — had made a real change.”
“Oh! a complete change, ma’am. Egad, a very complete change, indeed!”
“When he left this, sir, he was — oh! my darling! thoughtless, volatile”——
“An infidel and a scamp — eh? So he told me, ma’am.”
“And I have prayed that his sufferings might be sanctified to him,” she continued, “and that he might be converted, even though I should never see him more.”
“So he was, ma’am; I can vouch39 for that,” said Mr. Dingwell.
Again poor Mrs. Mervyn broke into a rapture40 of thanksgiving.
“Vastly lucky you’ve been, ma’am; all your prayers about him, egad, seem to have been granted. Pity you did not pray for something he might have enjoyed more. But all’s for the best — eh?”
“All things work together for good — all for good,” said the old lady, looking upward, with her hands clasped.
“And you’re as happy at his conversion41, ma’am, as the Ulema who received him into the faith of Mahomet —happier, I really think. Lucky dog! what interest he inspires, what joy he diffuses42, even now, in Mahomet’s paradise, I dare say. It’s worth while being a sinner for the sake of the conversion, ma’am.”
“Sir — sir, I can’t understand,” gasped43 the old lady, after a pause.
“No difficulty, ma’am, none in the world.”
“For God’s sake, don’t; I think I’m going mad” cried the poor woman.
“Mad, my good lady! Not a bit. What’s the matter? Is it Mahomet? You’re not afraid of him?”
“Oh, sir, for the Lord’s sake tell me what you mean?” implored44 she, wildly.
“I mean that, to be sure; what I say,” he replied. “I mean that the gentleman complied with the custom of the country — don’t you see? — and submitted to Kismet. It was his fate, ma’am; it’s the invariable condition; and they’d have handed him over to his Christian45 compatriots to murder, according to Frank law, otherwise. So, ma’am, he shaved his head, put on a turban — they wore turbans then — and, with his Koran under his arm, walked into a mosque46, and said his say about Allah and the rest, and has been safe ever since.”
“Oh, oh, oh!” cried the poor old lady, trembling in a great agony.
“Ho! no, ma’am; ‘twasn’t much,” said he, briskly.
“All, all; the last hope!” cried she, wildly.
“Don’t run away with it, pray. It’s a very easy and gentlemanlike faith, Mahometanism — except in the matter of wine; and even that you can have, under the rose, like other things here, ma’am, that aren’t quite orthodox; eh?” said Mr. Dingwell.
“Oh, Arthur, Arthur!” moaned the poor lady distractedly, wringing47 her hands.
“Suppose, ma’am, we pray it may turn out to have been the right way. Very desirable, since Arthur died in it,” said Mr. Dingwell.
“Oh, sir, oh! I couldn’t have believed it. Oh, sir, this shock — this frightful48 shock!”
“Courage, madam! Console yourself. Let us hope he didn’t believe this any more than the other,” said Mr. Dingwell.
Mrs. Mervyn leaned her cheek on her thin clasped hands, and was rocking herself to and fro in her misery49.
“I was with him, you know, in his last moments,” said Mr. Dingwell, shrugging sympathetically, and crossing his leg. “It’s always interesting, those last moments — eh? — and exquisitely50 affecting, even —particularly if it isn’t very clear where the fellow’s going.”
A tremulous moan escaped the old lady.
“And he called for some wine. That’s comforting, and has a flavour of Christianity, eh? A relapse, don’t you think, very nearly? — at so unconvivial a moment. It must have been principle; eh? Let us hope.”
The old lady’s moans and sighs were her answers.
“And now that I think on it, he must have died a Christian,” said Mr. Dingwell, briskly.
The old lady looked up, and listened breathlessly.
“Because, after we thought he was speechless, there was one of those what-d’ye-call-‘ems — begging dervish fellows — came into the room, and kept saying one of their long yarns51 about the prophet Mahomet, and my dying friend made me a sign; so I put my ear to his lips, and he said distinctly, ‘He be d — d!’— I beg your pardon; but last words are always precious.”
Here came a pause.
Mr. Dingwell was quite bewildering this trembling old lady.
“And the day before,” resumed Mr. Dingwell, “Poor Arthur said, ‘They’ll bury me here under a turban; but I should like a mural tablet in old Penruthyn church. They’d be ashamed of my name, I think; so they can put on it the date of my decease, and the simple inscription52, Check-mate.’ But whether he meant to himself or his creditors53 I’m not able to say.”
Mrs. Mervyn groaned54.
“It’s very interesting. And he had a message for you, ma’am. He called you by a name of endearment55. He made me stoop, lest I should miss a word, and he said, ‘Tell my little linnet,’ said he”—
But here Mr. Dingwell was interrupted. A wild cry, a wild laugh, and —“Oh, Arthur, it’s you!”
He felt, as he would have said, “oddly” for a moment — a sudden flood of remembrance, of youth. The worn form of that old outcast, who had not felt the touch of human kindness for nearly thirty years, was clasped in the strain of an inextinguishable and angelic love — in the thin arms of one likewise faded and old, and near the long sleep in which the heart is fluttered and pained no more.
There was a pause, a faint laugh, a kind of sigh, and he said —
“So you’ve found me out.”
“Darling, darling! you’re not changed?”
“Change!” he answered, in a low tone. “There’s a change, little linnet, from summer to winter; where the flowers were the snow is. Draw the curtain, and let us look on one another.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
specially
|
|
| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
rev
|
|
| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
alluded
|
|
| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
parley
|
|
| n.谈判 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
relic
|
|
| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
tremor
|
|
| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
smiting
|
|
| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
lawsuit
|
|
| n.诉讼，控诉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
solicitor
|
|
| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
disconsolate
|
|
| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
tenants
|
|
| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
ascending
|
|
| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
vista
|
|
| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
grove
|
|
| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
sable
|
|
| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
plumes
|
|
| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
virtues
|
|
| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
odds
|
|
| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
sob
|
|
| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
sinister
|
|
| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
coxcomb
|
|
| n.花花公子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
thrift
|
|
| adj.节约，节俭；n.节俭，节约 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
devout
|
|
| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
edifying
|
|
| adj.有教训意味的，教训性的，有益的v.开导，启发( edify的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
larceny
|
|
| n.盗窃（罪） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
asses
|
|
| n. 驴，愚蠢的人，臀部 adv. (常用作后置)用于贬损或骂人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
blessing
|
|
| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
vouch
|
|
| v.担保；断定；n.被担保者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
rapture
|
|
| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
conversion
|
|
| n.转化，转换，转变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
diffuses
|
|
| （使光）模糊，漫射，漫散( diffuse的第三人称单数 )； （使）扩散； （使）弥漫； （使）传播 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
gasped
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
implored
|
|
| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
mosque
|
|
| n.清真寺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
wringing
|
|
| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
frightful
|
|
| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
exquisitely
|
|
| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
yarns
|
|
| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
inscription
|
|
| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
creditors
|
|
| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
groaned
|
|
| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
endearment
|
|
| n.表示亲爱的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |