In he came, sterner and sharper of aspect than usual.
“I’ve been expected? I’m Doctor Bryerly. Haven’t I? So, let whoever is in charge of the body be called. I must visit it forthwith.”
So the Doctor sat in the back drawing-room, with a solitary5 candle; and Mrs. Rusk was called up, and, grumbling6 much and very peevish7, dressed and went down, her ill-temper subsiding8 in a sort of fear as she approached the visitor.
“How do you do, Madam? A sad visit this. Is anyone watching in the room where the remains9 of your late master are laid?”
“No.”
“So much the better; it is a foolish custom. Will you please conduct me to the room? I must pray where he lies — no longer he! And be good enough to show me my bedroom, and so no one need wait up, and I shall find my way.”
Accompanied by the man who carried his valise, Mrs. Rusk showed him to his apartment; but he only looked in, and then glanced rapidly about to take “the bearings” of the door.
“Thank you — yes. Now we’ll proceed, here, along here? Let me see. A turn to the right and another to the left — yes. He has been dead some days. Is he yet in his coffin10?”
“Yes, sir; since yesterday afternoon.”
Mrs. Rusk was growing more and more afraid of this lean figure sheathed11 in shining black cloth, whose eyes glittered with a horrible sort of cunning, and whose long brown fingers groped before him, as if indicating the way by guess.
“But, of course, the lid’s not on; you’ve not screwed him down, hey?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s well. I must look on the face as I pray. He is in his place; I here on earth. He in the spirit; I in the flesh. The neutral ground lies there. So are carried the vibrations12, and so the light of earth and heaven reflected back and forward — apaugasma, a wonderful though helpless engine, the ladder of Jacob, and behold13 the angels of God ascending14 and descending15 on it. Thanks, I’ll take the key. Mysteries to those who will live altogether in houses of clay, no mystery to such as will use their eyes and read what is revealed. This candle, it is the longer, please; no — no need of a pair, thanks; just this, to hold in my hand. And remember, all depends upon the willing mind. Why do you look frightened? Where is your faith? Don’t you know that spirits are about us at all times? Why should you fear to be near the body? The spirit is everything; the flesh profiteth nothing.”
“Yes, sir,” said Mrs. Rusk, making him a great courtesy in the threshold.
She was frightened by his eerie16 talk, which grew, she fancied, more voluble and energetic as they approached the corpse17.
“Remember, then, that when you fancy yourself alone and wrapt in darkness, you stand, in fact, in the centre of a theatre, as wide as the starry18 floor of heaven, with an audience, whom no man can number, beholding19 you under a flood of light. Therefore, though your body be in solitude20 and your mortal sense in darkness, remember to walk as being in the light, surrounded with a cloud of witnesses. Thus walk; and when the hour comes, and you pass forth4 unprisoned from the tabernacle of the flesh, although it still had its relations and its rights”— and saying this, as he held the solitary candle aloft in the doorway21, he nodded towards the coffin, whose large black form was faintly traceable against the shadows beyond —“you will rejoice; and being clothed upon with your house from on high, you will not be found naked. On the other hand, he that loveth corruption22 shall have enough thereof. Think upon these things. Good-night.”
And the Swedenborgian Doctor stepped into the room, taking the candle with him, and closed the door upon the shadowy still-life there, and on his own sharp and swarthy visage, leaving Mrs. Rusk in a sort of panic in the dark alone, to find her way to her room the best way she could.
Early in the morning Mrs. Rusk came to my room to tell me that Doctor Bryerly was in the parlour, and begged to know whether I had not a message for him. I was already dressed, so, though it was dreadful seeing a stranger in my then mood, taking the key of the cabinet in my hand, I followed Mrs. Rusk downstairs.
Opening the parlour door, she stepped in, and with a little courtesy said —
“Please, sir, the young mistress — Miss Ruthyn.”
Draped in black and very pale, tall and slight, “the young mistress” was; and as I entered I heard a newspaper rustle23, and the sound of steps approaching to meet me.
Face to face we met, near the door; and, without speaking, I made him a deep courtesy.
He took my hand, without the least indication on my part, in his hard lean grasp, and shook it kindly24, but familiarly, peering with a sort of curiosity into my face as he continued to hold it. His ill-fitting, glossy black cloth, ungainly presence, and sharp, dark, vulpine features had in them, as I said before, the vulgarity of a Glasgow artisan in his Sabbath suit. I made an instantaneous motion to withdraw my hand, but he held it firmly.
Though there was a grim sort of familiarity, there was also decision, shrewdness, and, above all, kindness, in his dark face — a gleam on the whole of the masterly and the honest — that along with a certain paleness, betraying, I thought, restrained emotion, indicated sympathy and invited confidence.
“I hope, Miss, you are pretty well?” He pronounced “pretty” as it is spelt. “I have come in consequence of a solemn promise exacted more than a year since by your deceased father, the late Mr. Austin Ruthyn of Knowl, for whom I cherished a warm esteem25, being knit besides with him in spiritual bonds. It has been a shock to you, Miss?”
“It has, indeed, sir.”
“I’ve a doctor’s degree, I have — Doctor of Medicine, Miss. Like St. Luke, preacher and doctor. I was in business once, but this is better. As one footing fails, the Lord provides another. The stream of life is black and angry; how so many of us get across without drowning, I often wonder. The best way is not to look too far before — just from one stepping-stone to another; and though you may wet your feet, He won’t let you drown — He has not allowed me.”
And Doctor Bryerly held up his head, and wagged it resolutely26.
“You are born to this world’s wealth; it its way a great blessing27, though a great trial, Miss, and a great trust; but don’t suppose you are destined28 to exemption29 from trouble on that account, any more than poor Emmanuel Bryerly. As the sparks fly upwards30, Miss Ruthyn! Your cushioned carriage may overturn on the highroad, as I may stumble and fall upon the footpath31. There are other troubles than debt and privation. Who can tell how long health may last, or when an accident may happen the brain; what mortifications may await you in your own high sphere; what unknown enemies may rise up in your path; or what slanders32 may asperse33 your name — ha, ha! It is a wonderful equilibrium34 — a marvellous dispensation — ha, ha!” and he laughed with a shake of his head, I thought a little sarcastically35, as if he was not sorry my money could not avail to buy immunity36 from the general curse.
“But what money can’t do, prayer can — bear that in mind, Miss Ruthyn. We can all pray; and though thorns and snares37, and stones of fire lie strewn in our way, we need not fear them. He will give His angels charge over us, and in their hands they will bear us up, for He hears and sees everywhere, and His angels are innumerable.”
He was now speaking gently and solemnly, and paused. But another vein38 of thought he had unconsciously opened in my mind, and I said —
“And had my dear papa no other medical adviser39?”
He looked at me sharply, and flushed a little under his dark tint40. His medical skill was, perhaps, the point on which his human vanity vaunted itself, and I dare say there was something very disparaging41 in my tone.
“And if he had no other, he might have done worse. I’ve had many critical cases in my hands, Miss Ruthyn. I can’t charge myself with any miscarriage42 through ignorance. My diagnosis43 in Mr. Ruthyn’s case has been verified by the result. But I was not alone; Sir Clayton Barrow saw him, and took my view; a note will reach him in London. But this, excuse me, is not to the present purpose. The late Mr. Ruthyn told me I was to receive a key from you, which would open a cabinet where he had placed his will — ha! thanks — in his study. And, I think, as there may be directions about the funeral, it had better be read forthwith. Is there any gentleman — a relative or man of business — near here, whom you would wish sent for?”
“No, none, thank you; I have confidence in you, sir.”
I think I spoke44 and looked frankly45, for he smiled very kindly, though with closed lips.
“And you may be sure, Miss Ruthyn, your confidence shall not be disappointed.” Here was a long pause. “But you are very young, and you must have some one by in your interest, who has some experience in business. Let me see. Is not the Rector, Dr. Clay, at hand? In the town? — very good; and Mr. Danvers, who manages the estate, he must come. And get Grimston — you see I know all the names — Grimston, the attorney; for though he was not employed about this will, he has been Mr. Ruthyn’s solicitor46 a great many years: we must have Grimston; for, as I suppose you know, though it is a short will, it is a very strange one. I expostulated, but you know he was very decided47 when he took a view. He read it to you, eh?”
“No, sir.”
“Oh, but he told you so much as relates to you and your uncle, Mr. Silas Ruthyn, of Bartram–Haugh?”
“No, indeed, sir.”
“Ha! I wish he had.”
And with these words Doctor Bryerly’s countenance48 darkened.
“Mr. Silas Ruthyn is a religious man?”
“Oh, very!” said I.
“You’ve seen a good deal of him?”
“No. I never saw him,” I answered.
“H’m? Odder and odder! But he’s a good man, isn’t he?”
“Very good, indeed, sir — a very religious man.”
Doctor Bryerly was watching my countenance as I spoke with a sharp and anxious eye; and then he looked down and read the pattern of the carpet like bad news, for a while, and looking again in my face, askance, he said —
“He was very near joining us — on the point. He got into correspondence with Henry Voerst, one of our best men. They call us Swedenborgians, you know; but I dare say that won’t go much further, now. I suppose, Miss Ruthyn, one o’clock would be a good hour, and I am sure, under the circumstances, the gentlemen will make a point of attending.”
“Yes, Dr. Bryerly, the notes shall be sent, and my cousin, Lady Knollys, would I am sure attend with me while the will is being read — there would be no objection to her presence?”
“None in the world. I can’t be quite sure who are joined with me as executors. I’m almost sorry I did not decline; but it is too late regretting. One thing you must believe, Miss Ruthyn: in framing the provisions of the will I was never consulted — although I expostulated against the only very unusual tone it contains when I heard it. I did so strenuously49, but in vain. There was one other against which I protested — having a right to do so — with better effect. In no other way does the will in any respect owe anything to my advice or dissuasion50. You will please believe this; also that I am your friend. Yes, indeed, it is my duty.”
The latter words he spoke looking down again, as it were in soliloquy; and thanking him, I withdrew.
When I reached the hall, I regretted that I had not asked him to state distinctly what arrangements the will made so nearly affecting, as it seemed, my relations with my uncle Silas, and for a moment I thought of returning and requesting an explanation. But then, I bethought me, it was not very long to wait till one o’clock — so he, at least, would think. I went up-stairs, therefore, to the “school-room,” which we used at present as a sitting-room51, and there I found Cousin Monica awaiting me.
“Are you quite well, dear?” asked Lady Knollys, as she came to meet and kiss me.
“Quite well, Cousin Monica.”
“No nonsense, Maud! you’re as white as that handkerchief — what’s the matter? Are you ill — are you frightened? Yes, you’re trembling — you’re terrified, child.”
“I believe I am afraid. There is something in poor papa’s will about Uncle Silas — about me. I don’t know — Doctor Bryerly says, and he seems so uncomfortable and frightened himself. I am sure it is something very bad. I am very much frightened — I am — I am. Oh, Cousin Monica! you won’t leave me?”
So I threw my arms about her neck, clasping her very close, and we kissed one another, I crying like a frightened child — and indeed in experience of the world I was no more.
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1
lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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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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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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7
peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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8
subsiding
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的现在分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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sheathed
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| adj.雕塑像下半身包在鞘中的；覆盖的；铠装的；装鞘了的v.将（刀、剑等）插入鞘( sheathe的过去式和过去分词 )；包，覆盖 | |
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12
vibrations
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| n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 )；震动；感受；（偏离平衡位置的）一次性往复振动 | |
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13
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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16
eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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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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21
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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23
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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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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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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exemption
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| n.豁免，免税额，免除 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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32
slanders
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| 诽谤，诋毁( slander的名词复数 ) | |
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asperse
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| v.流言；n.流言 | |
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equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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immunity
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| n.优惠；免除；豁免，豁免权 | |
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snares
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| n.陷阱( snare的名词复数 )；圈套；诱人遭受失败（丢脸、损失等）的东西；诱惑物v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的第三人称单数 ) | |
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vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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adviser
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| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
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40
tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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41
disparaging
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| adj.轻蔑的，毁谤的v.轻视( disparage的现在分词 )；贬低；批评；非难 | |
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42
miscarriage
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| n.失败，未达到预期的结果；流产 | |
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43
diagnosis
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| n.诊断，诊断结果，调查分析，判断 | |
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44
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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45
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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46
solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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47
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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48
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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49
strenuously
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| adv.奋发地，费力地 | |
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50
dissuasion
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| n.劝止；谏言 | |
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51
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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