“Poor old man!” Galt, now in his own grounds, leaned against the wall of a rustic6 summer-house. A thought had struck him like a blow from the dark. What would Sylvester say when he was told the truth? Galt saw the look of sheer, helpless incredulity on the high-bred, war-scarred face as the revelation was made, and watched it glow and flame into that of anger, contempt, and bitter disappointment. The mere7 confession8 of wrong-doing he might accept as frankly9 as it was offered, but that the young man should allow such a mishap10 to drag his own proud name into the mire11 and wreck12 the greatest enterprise that had ever blessed a down-trodden community—well, he couldn’t have believed such a thing possible.
Heavily laden13 now with the fires of a purer passion burning low under the shadow of his impending14 ruin, Kenneth Galt dragged himself slowly along the walk toward his house. He was turning the corner to enter at the front when he saw a carriage and pair at the gate. The moon had gone under a thin cloud and the view was vague, but surely they were his own horses, and the man on the driver’s seat certainly looked like John Dilk. Wonderingly, Galt went down to the gate. The negro was fast asleep; his massive head had fallen forward, and the hands which held the reins15 were inert16. The gate rattled17 as Galt touched the iron latch18, and the man woke and looked about him.
“Oh, is dat you, Marse Kenneth?” he asked, sleepily. “Yes,” Galt answered, rather sharply. “What are you doing with the horses out at this time of night?”
“Oh! oh! Le’ me see, suh!” The negro’s wits were evidently scattered19. “I sw’ar I dunno, Marse Kenneth. Bless my soul, you jump on me so sudden dat I can’t, ter save my life, tell you—Oh yes, now I know, suh! Why, ain’t you seed de Gineral since you got home, Marse Kenneth?”
“Why, no. Does he want me?”
“Yasser, yasser, he sho’ do,” the negro answered, now thoroughly20 himself. “He been searchin’ fer you high and low, Marse Kenneth. He went all thoo yo’ house. He got some’n ‘portant ter tell you. He ordered me ter hurry an’ get out de team, an’ have it raidy fer you’n him. He just run in his house er minute ago. Dar he is comin’ now. He’s dat excited an’ worried about not findin’ you he can’t hardly hold in.”
General Sylvester, as he stepped from the veranda21, recognized Galt, and hurried toward him, pulling out his watch and looking at it in the doubtful light.
“Great heavens!” he cried, “we haven’t a minute to lose. You’ve only got twenty minutes to catch the 11.10 North-bound train! Run up and get your bag! I saw it there, still unpacked22, and you needn’t waste a minute. I’ve glorious, glorious news from New York—a wire from Alberts, Wise & Co. They have got the right men for our deal, and with dead loads of money. They are ripe for the thing, and the brokers23 wire that if you can be there day after to-morrow morning you can close it. They say if you are not there then that the money may be diverted to other deals, and they advise all possible haste. So hurry. You must not miss the train. Everything depends on it. Run, get the bag! John, you get it! Quick!”
“No, I’ll—I’ll do it!” Galt gasped24. “Wait, I’ll be down in—in a minute!”
“Then hurry. We can talk on the way to the station. My boy, we are simply going to land it! The blessings25 of the widows and orphans26, whose property is going to bound up in value, will be on your plucky27 young head. Hurry up!”
Galt moved away, as weak in action as a machine run by a spring of such delicacy28 that it could be broken by the breath of an insect or the fall of an atom. It struck him as ridiculous that he should be going for his bag if he did not intend to use it; and to confess even now that he couldn’t make the trip would seem queer and cowardly, for he ought to have explained at once. Ascending29 the stairs, he reached his room. He turned up the gas, and his image in the big pier-glass between the two end windows looked like that of a dead man energized30 by electricity. There lay the bag by the bed, the black letters “K. G.,” on the end, blandly31 staring at him. Galt looked at it, and then back to his reflection in the mirror.
“My God!” he cried out, suddenly, “if I go to-night I’ll be deserting her forever, and she will have read me rightly! She would keep the secret; no human power could wrench32 it from her. She would keep it; and I—I, who have led her to her ruin, would be deserting her as only a coward could! I am beneath contempt. And yet what am I to do? I am what I am—what the damnable forces within me and my ancestors have made me. Napoleon loved, and put aside and cast down for his ambition, and have I not the same right for mine? I am not an emperor, but my ambition, such as it is, is as sweet to me as his was to him. As she says—as the gentle wilting33 flower says—I’d be miserable34, even with her, under the wreckage35 of all these hopes. She knows me; child though she is, she is my superior in many things. She knows that the loss of this thing—now that I’ve tasted the maddening cup of success, now that the poison of fame and public approval is rioting in my blood—would damn me forever! Accidents of this sort have ruined weak men. Strong men have lived to smile back upon such happenings as the inevitable36 consequence of the meeting of flame and powder, and have gone to their graves without remorse37. I’ve known such men. I’ve heard them say that no matter how heavily nature may scourge38 the conscience of man for theft, for murder, for any other misdeed, it yet deals lightly with this particular offence. And why? Because there can be no charge of deliberation in an act to which passionate39 youth is led by the very sunshine and music of heaven. And yet I’ll lose her. Great God, I’ll actually lose her! I can never look into her sweet face again, or kiss the dear lips ever whispering their vows40 of undying faith until hell opened her eyes to—to my frailty41. No, no, I can’t desert her; I can’t—I simply can’t! I want her! I want her. With all my soul, I want her!” There was a step in the hall below, and General Sylvester’s excited old voice rose and rang querulously through the still space below:
“In the name of Heaven, what’s the matter?” he cried. “Come on! You may miss the train as it is! Come on!”
“One second, General!” Galt cried out. “Wait!” He had not yet decided42, he told himself, and yet his cold hand had clutched the handle of his bag. He lifted it up, swung it by his side, and, stepping out into the corridor, peered over the balustrade down the stairs.
“We can’t wait, man!” the General shouted from the walk outside. “Hurry!”
“All right, I’m ready!” and Galt strode rapidly down the stairs, sliding his hand on the walnut43 railing.
“Why, what is the matter with you?” Sylvester peered at him anxiously in the moonlight as he emerged from the doorway44. “You look white and worried. You’ve done too much in Atlanta, with all those receptions and banquets. Let’s call a halt on the social end of the business till we have clinched45 the thing good and tight. Put this New York deal through, and we can dance and sing and cut the pigeon-wing as much as we please. But you will pull it through, my boy, my prince of promoters, with that wonderful say-little air you have. You are the man to make that crowd of Yankees think we are granting them favors instead of asking for them. If you don’t miss connection and get there on time, you will win as sure as you are a foot high.”
The General was pushing him into the carriage, and John Dilk, with whip poised46 in the air, and a tight, wide-awake grip on the reins showed readiness for his best speed record.
“Now, John,” Sylvester cried, “miss that train, and I’ll break every bone in your black hide!”
The negro laughed good-naturedly. It was exactly the sort of command he loved to get from the old man who had done him a hundred services.
“You watch me, Marse Gineral,” he said, with a chuckle47; “but you better keep yo’ mouf closed. Ef you don’t, dis hoss in de lead will fill it wid clay. He’s de beatenes’ animal ter fling mud I ever driv.”
On they sped, cutting the warm, still air into a sharp, steady current against them. The General babbled48 on enthusiastically, but Galt failed to catch half he was saying. To all outward appearances, he was being hurtled on to triumph; in reality, he was leaving the just-filled grave of his manhood. Before his humiliated49 sight stood a wonderful face written full of knowledge of himself—a knowledge more penetrating50 than that of the world-wise men who bowed before his prowess; a face, the beauty and tenderness of which were ever to remain stamped on his memory; a face wrung51 by a storm of agony, contempt, and—martyrdom! And he was striking it! The pleading eyes, scornful nose, quivering, drooping52 mouth were receiving the brunt of all his physical force! He knew the cost, and was going to abide53 by it. A believer in the eternal existence of the human soul might have paused, but Galt had always contended that nothing lay beyond a man’s short material life. And that being his view, how could he suffer material glories like these to slip through his fingers for the sake of a mere principle—a transient dream of the senses? Yes, yes; and yet the pain, the crushing agony, the maddened thing within him which all but tempted54 him to clutch the chattering55 old tempter at his side by the neck and hurl56 him to the earth!
And yet he nodded and said he was glad that the General had been so thoughtful as to telephone the station-agent to secure the drawing-room on the Pullman.
“We must not do things by halves,” the old soldier crowed. “The man who is to have his own private car as the president of the great S. R. and M. must not be seen, even by a negro porter, crawling into an upper berth57. Your plan of living high in order to be on a high level is fine business policy. You haven’t spared expense in Atlanta; you mustn’t in New York, either. Dine ‘em, wine ‘em; throw wads of cash at the servants—do anything! They know who the Gaits of Charleston and Savannah were before the War: let ‘em see that the old blood is still alive.”
They had been at the station only a minute when the train arrived. John Dilk brushed by the porter at the step of the long sleeper58, and proudly bore his master’s bag into the drawing-room. There was a hurried shaking of hands between Galt and the General, and the train smoothly59 rolled away.
Alone in the luxurious60 compartment61, Galt sank down. The obsequious62 porter stood awaiting orders, but the passenger scarcely saw him or heard what he was saying. Galt was now fairly stupefied by the magnitude of his crime. It flashed upon him as actually an incredible thing—his leaving Dora with so much to bear!
He had taught her that their love, like that of their favorite English novelist, had lifted them above mere conventional rules and ceremonies, and rendered them a law unto themselves. But the awakening63 had come. She had seen him in the garish64 light with which Truth had pierced his outer crust and revealed his quaking, cringing65 soul. She would despise him, the very murmuring of the ponderous66 wheels beneath him told him that, and from now on he must avoid her. To offer her financial aid in her coming trial would only be adding insult to injury, knowing her as he knew her; so even that must be omitted—even that, while he was accepting the price of her misery67.
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1
consigned
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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prosper
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| v.成功，兴隆，昌盛；使成功，使昌隆，繁荣 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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6
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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7
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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12
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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13
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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15
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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inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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19
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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20
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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21
veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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22
unpacked
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| v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的过去式和过去分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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23
brokers
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| n.（股票、外币等）经纪人( broker的名词复数 )；中间人；代理商；（订合同的）中人v.做掮客（或中人等）( broker的第三人称单数 )；作为权力经纪人进行谈判；以中间人等身份安排… | |
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24
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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25
blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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26
orphans
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| 孤儿( orphan的名词复数 ) | |
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plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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29
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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30
energized
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| v.给予…精力，能量( energize的过去式和过去分词 )；使通电 | |
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31
blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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32
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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33
wilting
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| 萎蔫 | |
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34
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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35
wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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36
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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37
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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38
scourge
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| n.灾难，祸害；v.蹂躏 | |
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39
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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40
vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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41
frailty
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| n.脆弱；意志薄弱 | |
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42
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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43
walnut
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| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
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44
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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45
clinched
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| 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） | |
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46
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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47
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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48
babbled
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| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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49
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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50
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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51
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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52
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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53
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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54
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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55
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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56
hurl
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| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
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57
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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58
sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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59
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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60
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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61
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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62
obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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63
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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64
garish
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| adj.华丽而俗气的，华而不实的 | |
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65
cringing
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| adj.谄媚，奉承 | |
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66
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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67
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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