After that I gave up my pursuit of her. It seemed not straightforward—too much like spying. I kept away from the places she was likely to frequent. Wandering the quays1, where there were only sailors and red-capped Brittany onion-sellers, I racked my brains, trying to recall in what I had offended. I felt no resentment2 for Vi’s conduct. It never occurred to me that she was a coquette. I thought that she might be actuated by a woman’s caution, and gave her credit for motives3 of which I had no knowledge. The more she withdrew beyond my attainment5, the more desirable she became to me.
My grandmother noticed my fallen countenance6 and concluded that Sir Charles’s indifference7 was the cause of it. She tried to cheer me with fragments of wise sayings which had helped her to keep her courage. She told me that there were more fish in the sea than ever came out of it. She even feigned8 contempt for Sir Charles, saying that I should probably be just as happy without his begrudged9 money. She resorted to religion for comfort, saying that if God didn’t intend me to inherit Woadley, it was because it wouldn’t be good for me. She painted for me the pleasures of the contented10 life:
“No riches I covet11, no glory I want,
H’ambition is nothing to me;
The one thing I beg of kind ’eaven to grant
Is a mind independent and free.”
But she couldn’t stir me out of my melancholy12, for she didn’t know its cause. She physicked me for financial disappointments; what I wanted was a love-antidote.
As my whole energies had formerly13 been bent14 on encountering Vi, so now they were directed towards avoiding her. For hours I would lounge in the bake-house or sit in the shop while Grandmother Cardover did her knitting, served customers, or gossiped with her neighbors. Then, against my better judgment15, curiosity and longing16 for one more glimpse of her would drag me out into the streets, Yet, once in the streets, my chief object was to flee from her.
Now when I should have refrained from pestering17 her, some obstinate18 fate was always bringing us face to face. I was sorriest for the effect that our attitude was having on Dorrie. At first she would rush forward in a gale19 of high spirits to greet me, until restrained by Vi. Next time, with a child’s forgetfulness, she would lift to me her pansy-face smiling, and remembering would hang back. At last she grew afraid of my troubled looks, and would hide shyly behind Vi’s skirts when she saw me.
For five days I had not met them. A desperate suspicion that they had left town grew upon me. I became reckless in my desire for certainty. I could not bear the suspense20. I was half-minded to call at the house where she had been staying, but that did not seem fair to her. I called myself a fool for not having stopped her in the street while I had the chance, when an explanation and an apology might have set everything on a proper footing.
On the sixth morning of her absence I rose early and went out before breakfast. The skies were gray and squally. A slow drizzle21 had been falling all night and, though it now had ceased, the pavements were wet. The wind came in gusts22, whistling round corners of streets and houses, whirling scraps23 of paper high in the air. When I came to the harbor, I saw that the sea was choppy and studded with white horses. Against the piles of the pier24 waves were dashing and shattering into spray. From up channel, all along the horizon, drove long lines of leaden clouds.
I struck out across the denes between the sea-wall and the Beach Road. No one was about. I braced25 myself against the wind, enjoying its stinging coldness. The tormented26 loneliness of the scene was in accord with my mood. The old town, hanging red along the cliff, no longer seemed to watch me; it frowned out on the desolate27 waste of water in impersonal28 defiance29.
My thoughts were full of that first morning when I had met her. I gave my imagination over without restraint to reconstructing its sensuous30 beauty. I saw the fire of the furze again, and scented31 the far-blown fragrance32 of wall-flowers, hiding in their crannies. But I saw as the center of it all the slim white girl with the mantle33 of golden hair, the deep inscrutable eyes of violet, and the slow sweet smile of La Gioconda playing round the edges of her mouth: gold and ivory, with poppies for her lips and sunshine for a background.
The hot blood in me was up—the gipsy blood. A stream of impassioned fancies passed before me. Ah, if I were to meet her now, I would have done with fine-spun theories of what was gentlemanly. On the lonely beach I would throw my arms about her, however she struggled, and hold her fast till she lay with her dear face looking up, crushed and submissive in my breast. After that she might leave me, but she would at least have learnt that I was a man and that I loved her.
Ahead lay the sullen34 wreck35. I had been there only once since our first meeting. Motives of delicacy36, which I now regretted, had held me back. Now I could go there. On such a morning, though she were still in Ransby, there would be no fear of surprising her.
On entering the hull37 through the hole in the prow38, the wind ceased, though it whistled overhead. I leant against the walls of the stranded39 ship, recovering my breath. I. drew out my pipe, intending to take a smoke while I rested. As I turned to strike a match, an open umbrella lying in a corner on the sand, caught my attention. I went over and looked behind it; there lay a pair of woman’s shoes and stockings, and a jacket, with stones placed on it to keep it down. Beneath the jacket was a disordered pile of woman’s clothing.
My first thought was shame of what she might think of me, were she to find me. My second was of angry fear because she had been so foolhardy as to bathe from such a shore on such a morning.
Hurrying out of the wreck, I strode across the beach to where the surf rushed boiling up the pebbles40. The waves ran high, white, and foam42-capped, hammering against the land. Gazing out from shore, I could see nothing but leaden water, rising and falling, rising and falling. The height of the waves might hide a swimmer from one standing43 at the water’s level; I raced back up the beach, and climbed the wreck. I could not discover her. The horror of what this meant stunned44 me; I could think of nothing else. My mind was in confusion. Then I heard my voice repeating over and over that she was not dead. The sheer monotony of the reiterated45 assertion, produced a sudden, unnatural46 clearness. “If she is not drowned, she must be somewhere out there,” I said.
I commenced to sweep the sea with my eyes in ever widening circles. Two hundred yards down the shore to the left and about fifty out, I sighted something. It was white and seemed only foam at first. The crest47 of a wave tossed it high for a second, then shut it out; when the next wave rose it was still there.
I shouted, but my voice would not carry against the wind. The next time the white thing rose on the crest I was sure that it was the face of a woman. I saw her arm thrown out above the surface; she was swimming the overarm stroke in an effort to make headway toward the land. I knew that she could never do it, for the current along the north beach runs seawards and the tide was going out. I gazed round in panic. The shore was forlorn and deserted48. Behind me to the northward49 stretched the gaunt, bare cliffs. To the southward, a mile distant across the denes, stood the outskirts50 of the sleepy town. Before ever I could bring help, she would have been carried exhausted51 far out to sea, or else drowned. There was no boat on the shore between myself and the harbor. There was nothing between her and death but myself. And to go to her rescue meant death.
I scarcely know what happened. I became furious with unreasonable52 anger. I was angry with her for her folly53, and angry with the world because it took no notice and did not care. I was determined54 that, before it was too late, I would go to her, so that she might understand. Yet, despite my passion, I acted with calculation and cunning. All my attention was focused on that speck55 of white, bobbing in the waste of churned up blackness. As I ran along the beach I kept my eyes fixed56 on that. When I came opposite, I waved to it. It took no notice. I hurried on a hundred yards further; the current would bear her down towards me northwards. I stripped almost naked, tearing off everything that would weigh me down. I waded57 knee-deep into the surf, up to where the beach shelved suddenly. I waited till a roller was on the point of breaking; diving through it, I struck out.
It was difficult to see her. Only when the waves threw us high at the same moment, did I catch a glimpse of her and get my direction. The shock of the icy coldness of the water steadied my nerves and concentrated my purpose. I was governed by a single determination—to get to her. My thought went no further than that. Nothing else mattered. I had no fear of death or of what might come after—I had no time to think about it. I wanted to get her in my arms and shake her, and tell her what a little fool she was, and kiss her on the mouth.
Lying on my right side, keeping low in the water, I dug my way forward with an over-arm left-stroke. As my first wind went from me and I waited for my second, I settled down into the long plugging stroke of a mile race. The tide was with me, but the roughness of the water prevented rapid progress. I had to get far enough out to be at the point below her in the current to which she was being swept down.
I started counting from one to ten to keep myself from slackening, just as the cox of a racing-eight does when he forces his crew to swing out. I regarded my body impersonally58, without sympathy, as though we were separate. When it suffered and the muscles ached, I lashed59 it forward with my will, silently deriding60 it with brutal61 profanities. The wind poured over the sea; the spray dashed up and nearly choked me. It was difficult to keep her in sight. When I saw her again, I smiled grimly at her courage and hit up a quicker pace. Who would have thought that her fragile body, so flower-like and dainty, had the strength and nerve to fight like that?
I was far enough out now to catch her. I halted, treading water; but the inaction gave my imagination time to get to work, and, when that happened, I felt myself weakening. I started up against the current, going parallel with the beach, to meet her. The one obsessing62 thought in my mind was to get to her. It was not so much a thought as an animal instinct. I was reduced to the primitive63 man, brutally64 battling his way towards his mate at a time of danger. While I acted instinctively66, the flesh responded; directly I paused to think, my body began to shirk and my strength to ebb41. Somewhere in that raging waste of water I must find and touch her. I did not care to hear her voice—simply to hold her.
Thirty feet away a gray riot of stampeding water rose against the horizon; in it I saw her face. With the swift trudging67 stroke of a polo-player I made towards her. In the foam and spray I saw what looked like golden seaweed. She was drifting past me; I caught her by the hair. Out of the mist of driven chaos68 we gazed in one another’s eyes. Her lips moved. “You!” she said.
My mind was laughing in triumph. My body was no longer weary—it was forgotten and strong again. In all the world there were just she and I. She had tried to escape me, but now the waves jostled us together. She had striven not to see me, but now my face focused all her gaze. She might look away into the smoking crest of the next roller, but her eyes must always come back. Of all live things we had loved or hated, now there remained just she and I. We had been stripped of all our acquirements and thrown back to the primitive basis of existence—a man and a woman fighting for life in chaos. For us all the careful conventions, built up by centuries, were suddenly destroyed. The polite decencies and safeguards of civilization were swept aside. The shame of so many natural things, which had made up the toll69 of our refinement70, was contemptuously blotted71 out—the architecture of the ages was shattered in an instant. We were thrown back to where the first man and woman started. The only virtue72 that remained to us was the physical strength by which death might be avoided. The sole distinguishing characteristic between us was the female’s dependence73 on the male, and the male’s native instinct to protect her, if need be savagely74 with his life. Over there, a mile away, stood the red comfortable town on the cliff, where all the smug decencies were respected which we had perforce abandoned. Between us and the shore stretched fifty yards of water—a gulf75 between the finite and the infinite. Over there lay the moment of the present; here in eternity76 were she and I.
I gazed on her with stern gladness; I had got to her—she was mine. The madness for possession, which had given me strength, was satisfied. Now a fresh motive4, still instinctive65 and primal77, urged me on—I must save her. I lifted her arm and placed it across my shoulder, so that I might support her. The great thing was to keep her afloat as long as possible. There was no going back over the path that we had traversed—both tide and current were dead against us. Already the shore was stealing away—we were being carried out to sea.
I remembered, how on that first morning, when I had warned her against bathing from the north beach, she had told me she was a good swimmer. In my all-embracing ignorance of her, I had no means of estimating how much or how little that meant. For myself, barring accidents, I judged I could keep going for two hours.
Vi was weakening. With her free left hand she was still swimming pluckily78, but her right hand kept slipping off my shoulder; I had to watch her sharply and lift it back. Her weight became heavier. Her lips were blue and chattering79. I noticed that her fingers were spread apart; she had cramp81 in the palms of her hands. Her body dragged beside me; she was losing control of it. She was no longer kicking out.
To talk, save in monosyllables, was impossible, and then one had to shout. Our ears were stopped up with water; the clash of the wind against the waves was deafening82. My one fear for her was that the cramp would spread. If that happened, we would go down together.
I felt her cold lips pressed against my shoulder. As I looked round, she let go of me. “I’m done,” she said.
She went under. I slipped my arm about her and turned over on my back, so that my body floated under her, and she lay across my breast. “You shan’t go,” I panted furiously.
“Let me,” she pleaded.
But I held her. “You shan’t go,” I said.
My anger roused her. I turned over again, swimming the breast-stroke. She placed her arm round my neck. Her long hair washed about me.
Sometimes her eyes were closed and I thought she had fainted. Her lips had ceased to chatter80. Her face lay against my shoulder, pinched and quiet as though she were dead. My own motions were becoming mechanical. It was sheer lust83 of life that kept me going. I had lost sensation in my feet and hands. The shore had dwindled84 behind us; it seemed very small and blurred85, though it was probably only half-a-mile distant. The water was less turbulent now; it rose and fell, rose and fell, with a rocking restfulness. I felt that I would soon be sleeping soundly. But in the midst of drowsing, my mind would spring up alert and I would drag her arm closer about my neck.
Above the clamor of the waves I heard a shout. At first I thought that I had given it myself. I heard it again; it was unmistakable.
Looking up out of the trough of a wave, I saw a patched sail hanging over us. My sight was misty86; the sail was indistinct and yet near me. As I rose on the crest, a hand grabbed me and I felt myself lifted out on to a pile of nets.
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1
quays
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| 码头( quay的名词复数 ) | |
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2
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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3
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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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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attainment
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| n.达到，到达；［常pl.］成就，造诣 | |
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6
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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8
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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9
begrudged
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| 嫉妒( begrudge的过去式和过去分词 )； 勉强做； 不乐意地付出； 吝惜 | |
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10
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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11
covet
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| vt.垂涎；贪图(尤指属于他人的东西) | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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13
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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15
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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16
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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pestering
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| 使烦恼，纠缠( pester的现在分词 ) | |
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18
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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20
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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21
drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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22
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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23
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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25
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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28
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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sensuous
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| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
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scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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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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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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prow
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| n.(飞机)机头，船头 | |
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stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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40
pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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ebb
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| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
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42
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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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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44
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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45
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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47
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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48
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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50
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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51
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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52
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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53
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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54
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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56
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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57
waded
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
impersonally
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| ad.非人称地 | |
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59
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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deriding
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| v.取笑，嘲笑( deride的现在分词 ) | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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obsessing
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| v.时刻困扰( obsess的现在分词 )；缠住；使痴迷；使迷恋 | |
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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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brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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65
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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67
trudging
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的现在分词形式） | |
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chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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toll
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| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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70
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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71
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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72
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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73
dependence
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| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
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74
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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75
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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76
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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primal
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| adj.原始的；最重要的 | |
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78
pluckily
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| adv.有勇气地，大胆地 | |
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79
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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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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81
cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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82
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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83
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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84
dwindled
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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86
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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