Yes, Margaret Dealing3 knew, he told himself. That was plain from her change of manner. She knew the truth at last, and was now heaping upon him the silent, womanly contempt which he so eminently4 deserved.
He sat at his open window and watched the shadows fall and sullenly5 creep across the lawn as the sunbeams receded6, and the twilight7 of a close, sultry evening came on. He went down to supper when he was called, but he ate little and his loneliness seemed more oppressive there in the open gas-light, under the gaze of the observant and solicitous8 attendants. Taking a cigar, he went outside and began to walk up and down on the grass, now grimly fighting against the fate which, like some grim sea-monster, was clutching him with a million penetrating9 tentacles10, and coiling round him as might some insidious11 reptile12 bent13 upon retributive torture. How had he dared to question the predominance of spirit over matter when this piteous appeal for the peace of his soul was oozing14 from the very fibre of his being?
Presently he saw Wynn Dearing emerge from the front door of his home, carrying a traveller’s bag. Dearing rested the bag on the walk at his feet and stood looking down the street. Then, with his arms folded, he began to walk nervously15 to and fro.
“He is going away,” Galt speculated. “He looks excited. I wonder if Margaret could have told him of her discovery?”
Galt stood still, held to the ground by the sheer horror of the thought. Of all possible happenings, he had most dreaded16 his best friend’s discovery of that particular thing. The young doctor had turned toward him and was approaching. He now held his head down and had clasped his hands tensely behind him. Suddenly, when quite near, he raised his eyes and recognized Galt.
“Hello, Kenneth!” he said. “I didn’t know you were at home. Otherwise, I should have run in and said good-bye.”
“You are going somewhere, then?” Galt said.
“To Augusta for a few days,” Dearing replied. “I got a letter offering me a chance to do an important operation. I shall be glad to get away, even for so short a time as that. I almost wish, old man, that I could stay away forever. I used to love this town, but I hate it now. I hate anything that is heartless and totally blinded by money and power to all sense of justice and common decency17.”
“Why, what’s gone wrong?” Galt inquired.
“Wrong? The place is rotten to the core!” Dearing burst out. “Kenneth, a thing is going to be countenanced18 by the citizens of this town that would stain the character of the Dark Ages. Haven’t you heard the news that has set every tongue to wagging like a thousand bell-clappers?”
“No, I haven’t heard anything out of the ordinary. You see, I am keeping so close here at home that—”
“Well, old man, the lowest, poorest excuse for a man that old Stafford ever produced is coming back,” Dear-ing broke it, furiously. “Fred Walton, I mean. I didn’t think he’d have the effrontery19 to show his face here again, but he has decided20 to do it.”
“Oh!” Galt exclaimed. But that was all he said, for Dearing went on, angrily:
“Yes, and the dastardly thing—the most outrageous21 fact about it all—is that every soul in the place is ready to receive him with open arms. He has made lots of money; he is rich; he has reformed, they say, and, idiots that they are, they have forgiven him. I have heard his return spoken of by a score of our very best citizens, and not one of them has even mentioned the crime that lies at his door—the crime that stands out to-day in a more damning light than it ever did. The brave, patient, suffering little woman—who is as high above him intellectually, morally, and every other way as the stars are above the earth—and that glorious child are to have another slap from his dirty, egotistical paw. He put her into prison and made her an exile with his nameless offspring, and yet he comes back like a royal prince. ‘Wild oats,’ they call his vile22 conduct, and they are ready to wipe it off his record. That is modern mankind for you, and, Kenneth, this one circumstance has come nearer to shaking my faith than anything that ever happened to me. If God can allow an insult like that to come to Dora Barry now, after all she has borne so sweetly, silently, and bravely, He can be no God of mine. I’ll be through with the creeds23, I tell you. I’ll join your gang of scoffers and trot24 along wherever your black philosophy leads. Even my uncle has no protest to make, nor my sister, who I thought had given the scamp up in disgust. By George, she even looks happy over it! I don’t want to meet him face to face. I don’t know that I could control myself. She has given me no right to act as her defender25; if she had, Kenneth, I’d take up her cause if it ended my career here forever!”
“You? You?” Galt gasped26.
“Yes, I. Listen, old man. You are my best friend, and I feel like telling some one. I feel that it would be a sort of tribute of respect to her worthiness27. I presume you, like all the rest, think that I never have had any preference for any particular woman, but I have had, and I am not ashamed of it.
“When I was a boy of thirteen or so, and Dora was about eight, we used to play together. Even at that age I had an eye for beauty, and she was the prettiest child that ever lived. We called ourselves sweethearts. Her old father used to get us to sit for him in his studio, and he would talk to us as only such a beautiful soul could to children. He used to sigh and say that she would be a pauper28, and that I would grow up a prince, for an artist could not leave his daughter money, and my father was said to be well-to-do. Even at that early age I denied the possibility of such a thing making any difference between her and me, and when she grew up into such beautiful girlhood, and was studying art under her father, I determined29 to make something of myself, aside from the inheritance which was to come to me. So I went in for medicine and surgery, and she kept to art, saying that she would earn a living for her parents when they became old. But he died away off in Paris, whither his dreams led him, while I was at college, and when I came home I found that she had grown away from me. It was a great blow, for I had been constantly thinking of her. To me she was the very glory of her sex, and it was mostly her influence that made me what I am. I have seen many women since then, but never her equal from any point of view. I went with her occasionally after that, but it was more to become accustomed to her loss than in the hope of winning her regard. Then the awful, unmentionable thing came out. You know what I mean. That man had won her confidence, won her heart—how, God only knows, but he had—and dealt her a back-handed blow, and left her helpless, miserable30. I tried then, harder than ever, to tear her image out of my heart, but I couldn’t. My professional duties called me into the saddened home to which no other soul was admitted. I saw that even in her blighted31 womanhood she was fulfilling every promise given by her youth. Instead of sinking lower, she was blooming like a flower under snow. I suppose I shall go through the rest of my life with her personality woven into the very warp32 and woof of my being. But knowing her has strengthened and broadened me. She is beautiful, pure, and spiritual—God’s denial of the social law held over her. Only shallow men judge women by physical mistakes made in the unselfish purity of over-confidence. She will never call on me for the aid I’d gladly give, and I can’t insult her strange widowhood by offering it. She has her heart set on going to Paris to live and study, as her father did. She thinks she can bury herself there before Lionel is old enough to realize his condition, and that he may never know the truth. It is a beautiful dream, but it can never be realized.”
A horse and buggy stopped at the gate, and Doctor Beaman, who was driving, leaned over and called out, excitedly: “I’m fifteen minutes late, Wynn; you may miss the train. Hurry! hurry!”
“That’s a fact; I must go. Good-bye, old man.” Galt held on to Dearing’s hand firmly, almost desperately33.
“Wait, I have something to say,” he began—“something that simply must be said.”
“Good gracious, Wynn, hurry, hurry!” Doctor Beaman was heard calling out, impatiently. “You don’t want to lie over in Atlanta. I’ll have to go in a gallop34, and then may miss your train! Hurry!”
“Wait, just a moment,” Galt implored35.
“Oh, I know you are sympathetic.” Dealing, misunderstanding, ran for his bag, with the wordless Galt shambling along at his side. “I couldn’t have told you all that if you hadn’t taken such a liking36 for the poor little kid. Good-bye, good-bye, only don’t join the gang of fools that will laud37 that scamp to the skies when he comes—that is all I ask.”
“But you must listen!” Galt cried out. “I must tell you now that—” But Dearing had darted38 away. The gate closed after him, and Galt saw him climbing into the buggy even while it was in motion.
“Well, he’ll know it soon enough,” the lonely man thought. “The facts will come out now. Walton will hear the report when he gets back, and Dora will declare him innocent.”
Galt went into the dimly lighted hallway of his house and ascended39 the stairs. There was nothing to do now, he told himself. The world that had admired him, the men and women who had entrusted40 him with the investment of their savings41 in his various schemes, would stare and doubt their senses. They would shun42 him—one and all they would shun him as they would some loathsome43 thing; he had used their money well, but their profit had been made by a man who had known no honor.
He entered his room, turned up the light, and critically examined his ghastly image in the mirror on his bureau. What a gashed44 and blearing mask to all that lay behind it! How could it go on? How could he bear with it another day? Even if he could lay it aside in sleep to-night, the heartless dawn would reveal it all the more relentlessly45. Suddenly out of the turmoil46 of his emotions a grim resolve rose and fastened itself on him. His suicide would be his confession—his belated exoneration47 of the man who so long had borne the stigma48 in his stead. In a small drawer in the bureau lay a revolver. It was loaded in all of its six chambers50, and as he took the weapon out he almost fondled it in his clammy hand. In the morning his servants would find his body, and the truth would be out. He would close the door and windows that the revolver’s report might be smothered51. But he started; there was the child, his helpless child, to whom he had given life—and such a life!
“Lionel, Lionel!” he said, aloud. “My son, my son, my beautiful brave boy, who loves me in spite of what I have done against him! Will he grow up and understand? Will he pardon his misguided father, or blush for shame at the thought of him?”
With the revolver still in his hand, he sank into a chair near a window and gazed out into the star-filled sky. Suddenly he started. Whence had come the thought? He could not tell, but a new and dazzling conviction was on him like light streaming through the gates of Paradise. Kill himself? How absurd the thought! He might dash his bleeding, lifeless body to the earth, but he, himself, would remain a deathless witness to the act. Nothing in the shape of matter, no force known to science, could possibly put out of existence the yearning52 for atonement within him. Nothing so divine as that could die. Such a thing was from the Eternity53 that had created Eternity. He threw the revolver on his bed, and drew a deep, delectable54 breath. His now entranced vision seemed to extend further out into the world-filled void above him. He stood up, panting from the sheer ravage55 his new hope had wrought56 upon him.
“Eternity! Eternity!” he whispered, in reverential awe49. “Now I see—the scales have fallen from my sight. I see! Thank God, I see! I understand!”
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1
prattle
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| n.闲谈；v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话；发出连续而无意义的声音 | |
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2
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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6
receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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7
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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8
solicitous
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| adj.热切的，挂念的 | |
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9
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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10
tentacles
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| n.触手( tentacle的名词复数 )；触角；触须；触毛 | |
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11
insidious
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| adj.阴险的，隐匿的，暗中为害的，（疾病）不知不觉之间加剧 | |
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12
reptile
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| n.爬行动物；两栖动物 | |
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13
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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14
oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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15
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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16
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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17
decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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countenanced
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| v.支持，赞同，批准( countenance的过去式 ) | |
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effrontery
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| n.厚颜无耻 | |
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20
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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21
outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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22
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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23
creeds
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| （尤指宗教）信条，教条( creed的名词复数 ) | |
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24
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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25
defender
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| n.保卫者，拥护者，辩护人 | |
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26
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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27
worthiness
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| 价值，值得 | |
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28
pauper
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| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
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29
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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30
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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32
warp
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| vt.弄歪，使翘曲，使不正常，歪曲，使有偏见 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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34
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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35
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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37
laud
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| n.颂歌；v.赞美 | |
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38
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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39
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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42
shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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43
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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44
gashed
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| v.划伤，割破( gash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
relentlessly
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| adv.不屈不挠地；残酷地；不间断 | |
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46
turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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47
exoneration
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| n.免罪，免除 | |
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48
stigma
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| n.耻辱，污名；(花的)柱头 | |
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49
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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50
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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51
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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52
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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53
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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54
delectable
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| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
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55
ravage
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| vt.使...荒废，破坏...；n.破坏，掠夺，荒废 | |
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56
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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