I could not help thinking so as I sat beside her. Her head still trembled slightly; but I suppose that was an habitual6 motion. She sat there shut up in herself,—her misery7 and her relief, and the cold dauntless spirit that must have risen from that smart encounter yesterday, and gained strength by the very struggle—hidden from everybody round her, as if they had been a world away. I gazed and wondered, almost trembled, at that extraordinary death in life. She who had all the tumult8 of passion and guilt9 in her memory; she who must have entered into the fullest excitement of life, and got entangled10 in its most dreadful perplexities; she who was no ascetic11, nor even pretended to that rival excitement of the devotee which might have replaced the other; how could she have lived silent and obdurate12 through those dreadful years? The very thought of{300} them struck me aghast. After her life of flattery, admiration13, and universal homage14; after her experience, whatever that might be, of more personal passions, to drop for a longer time than my whole life behind that screen into that chair! As I sat opposite to her, my thoughts turned back to that other Miss Mortimer, whom I had placed in imagination in my grandfather’s house. Once more I thought I could see that large low room which I never had seen, except in fancy, with the ancient beauty sitting silent by the fire amid the ghosts of the past. Was this the true impersonation of that dream of mine? Was this the Miss Mortimer, with her foreign count, whom Mrs. Saltoun remembered? As this recurred16 to me I could scarcely help a little start of quickened curiosity and eagerness. It seemed to flicker17 before me as a possible interpretation18 of all this dark enigma19, could only the connecting link be found. As I was wandering deeper and deeper into these thoughts—so deep as to forget the strange position I stood in, and the possibility of being taken for a kind of domestic spy, which had embarrassed me at first—I heard a little commotion20 outside. The door, perhaps, was ajar, or it might be simply that my ears were quickened by hearing a little cry from baby, and Lizzie’s voice belligerent21 and full of determination. I got up hastily and went to the door. I don’t think Miss Mortimer even lifted her eyes to notice my movement. It was certainly Lizzie in some conflict with one of the authorities of the house; and Lizzie, as the natural and primitive22 method of asserting her own way, had unconsciously elevated her voice; a proceeding23 which alarmed baby, and also, as it appeared, her antagonist24. I ran and threw the door open as I heard another cry from my little boy. There, outside, was a curious scene. Lizzie, in her out-of-doors dress, just returned from a walk in the garden with baby, with her face a little flushed, and her plentiful25 hair somewhat blown about by the wind, was resolutely26 pressing forward to enter the drawing-room, where, to be sure, she had no business to come; while holding her back by her cloak, and whispering threats and dissuasions, was a person whom I had scarcely seen before, but whom I knew at once to be Carson, Miss Mortimer’s maid. Lizzie was greatly excited; and what with managing the baby and resisting this woman, while at the same time possessed27 with some mission which she was evidently determined28 to perform, looked fatigued29 and exhausted30 too.
“But I will,” cried Lizzie, with her eyes flashing. “I’m no heeding31 whether it’s my place or no. I promised I would gi’e{301} it into her ain very hand; and do ye think I’m gaun back o’ my word? I tell ye I will gie’t to the leddy mysel’. Eh, mem!” she exclaimed, breathlessly, with a sudden change of her tone as she saw me, “I met Menico at the gate, and I promised to gi’e it into the leddy’s ain hand.”
When I approached, Carson fell back; she shrank, I could fancy, from meeting my eyes. Her hand dropped from Lizzie’s cloak; she was as much afraid to be supposed to interfere32 as she was anxious to interfere in reality.
“My missis’s nerves, ma’am,” said Carson, glibly33, but in a half whisper, “is not as strong as might be wished. If the young person, ma’am, would give it to me, or——. You see the ladies at the Park they’re known for charity, and beggars’ letters, or such like, they’re too excitin’ for my missis’; they puts her all in a tremble—it’s on her nerves.”
“But, mem,” cried Lizzie, “I canna go back o’ my word.”
I stood between them, much perplexed34 and bewildered. The anxiety of Miss Mortimer’s maid was evident; and Lizzie, from whose arms baby had instantly struggled as soon as he saw me, was greatly excited. At this moment she produced the letter which was in question. Carson made a stealthy spring to seize it, but recollecting35 herself, drew back, and looked up guilty, but deprecating in my face. I don’t know whether it was a desire to clear up the mystery, or the cruel curiosity of an observer of character that decided36 me. I dismissed Carson coldly, saying I would ring if Miss Mortimer wanted her, and told Lizzie to follow me into the room. Lizzie’s excitement sank into awe37 as she trod softly through this great, faded, magnificent apartment. Before she reached the screen which sheltered Miss Mortimer, she was almost speechless with half superstitious38 reverence39. I am sure she would willingly have given her letter to Carson or anybody at that moment. The very fact that the person she was about to confront was thus concealed40 from her overawed her simple mind. When she actually emerged from behind the screen, and came in full sight of Miss Mortimer, Lizzie’s healthful face was perfectly41 colourless, and her frame trembling. The supreme42 awkwardness of the attitude into which she fell, the spasmodic rudeness with which she thrust out that hand that contained the letter, the fright and consternation43 visible in every twist of her person, would have been painfully ludicrous if there had been any time to observe it. Miss Mortimer raised her eyes and stared at the strange figure before her. Almost absurd as that figure was in its dismay and terror, her mind was not sufficiently44 at ease to be{302} simply surprised. Any strange apparition45 had a right to appear before this woman in her intrenchments of dumb resistance. As I stood by looking on, I could understand the feeling which worked in her eyes. She was not surprised. No miracle could have surprised her. She was rather asking in her heart, “Who is this new assailant? Who will come next?”
“If ye please, it’s a letter,” said Lizzie, in a tremulous voice.
Miss Mortimer made no attempt to take the letter. She said, “Who are you?” with a strange curiosity; as if, amid all the powers that had a secret right to assail46 her in her conscious guiltiness, this was a new hobgoblin whom she could not well connect with the others. If there were any purgatory47, I could fancy a poor soul there asking in the same tone the name of the new imp15 who came to torment48 it.
This was more than Lizzie could bear. I don’t know what perplexed terrors and superstitious ideas of evil influence brought back the blood to her cheeks. She trembled all over under that eye, which had suggested the idea of the Evil Eye to Lizzie, and to which she was determined never to expose “our bairn.” She must have endured a kind of martyrdom as she stood under its steady gaze. “Eh, me? I’m no onybody,” cried Lizzie, shivering with excitement; “it’s just a letter. I said I would gi’e it into the leddy’s own hand.”
Miss Mortimer turned upon me—on the child—on the very mirror on the further wall, a look of silent defiance49; she seemed to look round to call upon the very apartment in which we sat to witness what she did. Then she took the letter from Lizzie’s rigid50 fingers, and with scarcely a motion, except of her hand, dropped it into the fire. After she had done it, she turned again to us with another steady look, and even with a smile; triumphant51!—with a certain gleam of devilish satisfaction in her success, as if she had baffled us all once more. But in that very moment, while she still smiled, I could see her hold herself fast between the arms of her chair, to keep down the nervous tremor52 which seized her. That resisting, defying spirit was lodged53 in nothing stronger than a human frame. Her head shook, steadied, trembled again, with a force beyond all her power of control. With all that soul of successful evil in her face, her head shook as if with the palsy of extreme old age, and in spite of the most convulsive strenuous54 efforts to keep it still. I was nearly as much awe-struck as Lizzie. I stole out of sight of her as the girl did. Never was there such a picture! She could conquer nature, truth, and every human{303} feeling; but she could not conquer those tremulous chords and threads of mortal flesh which refused to be in the conspiracy55. She sat there dumbly defying every scrutiny56, but with the smile growing fixed57 and ghastly on her face as she tried, with her utmost desperate feeble strength, and failed, to defy and overcome herself.
I asked Lizzie no questions as she came upstairs after me. I did not say anything to her when I heard her sobbing58 out her agitation59 in her own room. There was not a word said between us when she came refreshed by that little ebullition, and by the necessary arrangement of her wind-blown hair and dress, to take charge of little Harry. When I had given the child up to her, I went downstairs again, quite silent and eager. You may very well ask why. I cannot defend myself. I went down with no better motive4 than to watch Miss Mortimer, and see if anything more could be found out.
When I went into the room I saw nobody, but heard some voices and movement behind the screen. I believe if Miss Mortimer had been speaking in the ordinary human voice, I should not have heard her at that distance; but I did hear that strange stifled60 whisper almost as well as if it had been hissed61 into my ear.
“I must deny, deny, deny,” said the strange voice. “Don’t speak to me, you know nothing about it. It is the only strength I have.”
“But, oh! dear, dear, such a pretty young gentleman!” said the other speaker, in a tone of weeping but hopeless remonstrance62.
“Let him prove his rights,” said Miss Mortimer.
I obeyed my instincts, and fled out of the room as I heard that she was stirring behind the screen. And I had not been mistaken in the guess I made. She came out a few minutes later, leaning on Carson’s arm, leaning heavily, with her head trembling like that of a palsied person; but her eyes full of that dreadful self-possession, knowledge and resistance. I trembled, too, as I stood aside to let her pass. She did not say anything, though she stared hard at me. The maid, though she did her best to make up her usual face when she saw me there, was evidently overpowered with anxiety and distress63.
There was, then, one other individual who knew that secret—one creature who loved that dreadful old woman, and in whom she trusted. I could not help standing64 still to look after them as they went upstairs. Carson was very little younger than her mistress. She had a naturally anxious look, as well she{304} might if she had been for years the depository of this secret. I could not help picturing their life to myself as they went upstairs: the innocent woman troubled and tearful, the guilty woman calm and immovable, but for that trembling of her frame which even her remorseless will was not strong enough to subdue65. I could understand better now how she kept alive, and could preserve that frightful66 stillness of hers. Upstairs, in their own apartments, no doubt another life went on; a life of recollections and schemes which no one knew of, a life palpitating full of those past years of which Miss Mortimer gave no sign. That was how she kept herself alive. I could not do anything but stand still, watching them, as they went slowly up to that retirement67, where the mask could be laid off and the veil drawn68. When they were out of sight, I strayed into the great vacant drawing-room, unable to withdraw my thoughts from this strange pair. “I must deny, deny, deny!” That was the position she had taken. Could any one in existence—could Luigi, a sensitive and high-minded young man as he seemed to be—seek motherly love from such a woman as this? Motherly love! it was dreadful even in thought to apply such words to anything that could come from her. Shame only, shame to both. What motive could he have to go on seeking her? for Nature had evidently no place in her heart of stone.
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1
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ascetic
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| adj.禁欲的；严肃的 | |
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obdurate
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| adj.固执的，顽固的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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imp
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| n.顽童 | |
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recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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enigma
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| n.谜，谜一样的人或事 | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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belligerent
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| adj.好战的，挑起战争的；n.交战国，交战者 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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recollecting
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| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
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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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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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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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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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assail
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| v.猛烈攻击，抨击，痛斥 | |
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purgatory
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| n.炼狱；苦难；adj.净化的，清洗的 | |
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torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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51
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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53
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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54
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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55
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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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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subdue
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| vt.制服，使顺从，征服；抑制，克制 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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