During a gay and dissipated life, his lordship had seen the ample fortune left him by his father gradually melt away, until now, in his old age, he found it difficult to secure sufficient funds to enable him to maintain a respectable position in the world. He had been ably assisted in his extravagances by his only son, the Viscount Roger Consinor, who for twenty years past had performed his full share in dissipating the family fortunes.
Aside from their mutual3 prodigality4, however, the two men had little in common. The father was reckless, open-handed and careless of consequences, indulging himself frankly5 in such dissipations as most men are careful to hide. The son was reserved and sullen6, and posed as a man eminently7 respectable, confining his irregularities mainly to the gaming table. Between them they had loaded the estates with mortgages and sold every stick and stone that could be sold. At last the inevitable8 happened and they faced absolute ruin.{105}
There seemed no way out of their difficulties. The viscount had unfortunately married a wife with no resources whatever, although her family connections were irreproachable9. The poor viscountess had been a confirmed invalid10 ever since her baby girl was born, some eighteen years before, and was merely tolerated in the big, half-ruined London mansion11, being neglected alike by her husband and her father-in-law, who had both come to look upon her as a useless incumbrance. More than that, they resented the presence of a young, awkward girl in the house, and for that reason banished12 Aneth at twelve to a girl’s school in Cheshire, where she had remained, practically forgotten, until her eighteenth year. Then the lady preceptress shipped her home because her tuition fee was not promptly13 paid.
Aneth found her mother so confirmed in the selfish habits of the persistent14 invalid, that the girl’s society, fresh and cheery though it proved, only irritated her nerves. She found her father, the morose15 viscount, absolutely indifferent and unresponsive to her desire to be loved and admitted into his companionship. But old Lord Roane, her grandfather, had still a weakness for a pretty face, and Aneth was certainly pretty. Moreover, she was sweet and pure and maidenly16, and no one was better able to admire and appreciate such qualities than the worn-out roué whose life had been mainly spent in the society of light women. So he took the girl to his evil old heart, and loved her, and tried to prevent her discovering how unworthy he was{106} of her affection. The love for his granddaughter became the one unselfish, honest love of his life, and it assisted wonderfully in restoring in him some portion of his long-lost self-respect.
Aneth, finding no other friend in the gloomy establishment that was now her home, soon became devoted17, in turn, to her grandsire, and although she was shrewd enough, in spite of her inexperience, to realize that his life had been, and still was, somewhat coarse and dissipated, she fondly imagined that her influence would, to an extent, reclaim18 him—which it actually did, but only to an extent.
There was little concealment19 in the family circle as to the state of their finances. Father and son quarreled openly about the division of what little money could be raised on the overburdened estates, and the girl was not long in realizing the difficulties of their position. If the viscount had nothing to gamble with, he became insufferable and almost brutal20 in his manner; if Lord Roane could not afford to dine at the club and amuse himself afterward21, he was irritable22 and abusive to all with whom he came in contact, save only his granddaughter. The household expenses were matters of credit, and the wages of the servants were greatly in arrears23.
And so, when the affairs of the family had become well-nigh desperate, the big blue envelope with the government stamp arrived, and like magic all their difficulties dissolved.{107}
A newly appointed cabinet minister—a man whom Lord Roane had reason to consider an enemy rather than a friend—had for some surprising and unknown reason interested himself in Roane’s behalf, and the result was a diplomatic post for him in Egypt under Lord Cromer, and a position for the viscount in the Egyptian Department of Finance. The appointments were lucrative24 and honorable, and indicated the Government’s perfect confidence in both father and son.
Lord Roane was astounded25. Never would he have dared demand such consideration, and to have these honors thrust upon him at a time when they would practically rescue his name and fortune from ruin was almost unbelievable.
He accepted the appointment with alacrity26, joyful27 at the prospect28 of a winter in gay Cairo. Roger shared his father’s felicity, because the gaming in the oriental city would be more fascinating than that of London, where people had begun to frown when he entered a room. The invalid viscountess hoped Egypt would benefit her health. Aneth welcomed any change from the horrible condition in which they had existed latterly.
“Grandfather,” said she, gravely, “our gracious Queen has given to you and to my father positions of great trust. I am sure that you will personally do your duty loyally, and with credit to our honored name; but I’m afraid for father. Will you promise me to keep him from card-playing and urge him to lead a more reputable life?”{108}
“Phoo! Nonsense, child. Roger will behave himself, I am sure, now that he will have important duties to occupy him. The Minister of Finance will keep him busy, never fear, and he will have neither time nor inclination29 for folly30. Don’t worry, little one. Our fortunes have changed; we shall now be able to pay the butcher and baker31 and candlestick-maker, and there is little doubt the Consinors will speedily become the pride of the nation. Ahem! Tell Luke, my dear, to fetch my brandy and soda32 as you go out. And, stay! Remember, we are to leave London on the fourth of October and you must have both your mother and yourself ready to depart promptly. I depend upon you, Aneth.”
She kissed him and went away without further comment, reflecting, with a sigh, that her fears and warnings were alike unheeded.
Lord Roane, left to himself, began wondering anew to what whim33 of fate he owed his good fortune. Really, there seemed no clue to the mystery.
It was a complicated matter, even to one on the inside, so it is no wonder the old nobleman failed to comprehend it.
Many years ago the cabinet minister and Lord Roane had been intimate friends; then the former fell madly in love with a little Egyptian princess who was the rage of the London season, and sought her hand in marriage. Roane also became enamored of the beautiful Hatatcha, and went so far as to apply for a divorce{109} from his wife, that he might wed34 her. The fascinating Egyptian, guileless of European customs and won by the masterful ardor35 of Roane, chose him from among all her suitors, and casting aside the honest love of Roane’s friend, fell unconsciously into the trap set for her and became the mistress of the man who promised her such rare devotion. Presently, however, the heartless roué tired of his easy conquest and carelessly thrust her aside, although the divorce for which he had applied36 on false representations had now been granted, and he was free to marry his victim had he so wished.
All London was indignant at his act at the time, and no one was more enraged37 than Roane’s former friend. He searched everywhere for the Egyptian princess when Hatatcha fled from London to hide her shame, and on his return from the unsuccessful quest, he quarreled with Roane and would have killed him had not mutual friends interposed.
Time had, of course, seared all these old wounds, although the hatred38 between the two men would endure to the grave. The betrayer was careless of criticism and wealthy enough to defy it. The man who had truly loved was broken-hearted, and from that time avoided all society and especially that of women. But he plunged39 into politics for diversion, and in that field won for himself such honor and renown40 in future years that at last he became a member of Her Majesty’s cabinet, second in power only to the Premier41 himself.
Thus Prince Kāra found him. The Egyptian had{110} only to use the magic name of Hatatcha to secure a private audience with the great man, who listened quietly while Kāra demanded vengeance42 upon his grandmother’s betrayer.
“In England,” said the minister, “there is no vendetta43. The rage I fostered thirty-odd years ago, when my heart was wrung44 with despair, has long since worn itself out. Time evens up these old scores without human interference. Roane is to-day on the verge45 of ruin. His only son is a confirmed gambler. Their race is nearly run, and the gray hairs of Hatatcha’s false lover will go dishonored to the grave. Is that not enough?”
“By no means,” returned Prince Kāra, with composure. “They must be made to suffer as my grandmother suffered, but with added agony for the years of impunity46 that have elapsed. It was her will—the desire of her long, miserable47 life. Will you, her old friend, deny her right to be avenged48?”
A flood of resentment49 swept into the heart of the listener. Years may sear a wound; but if it is deep, the scar remains50.
“What do you ask of me?” he answered.
Before replying, Kāra reflected for some time, his eyes steadily51 fixed52 upon the floor.
“Are there no women in Lord Roane’s family?” he asked, finally.
“There are two, I believe—his son’s wife, who is an invalid, and his granddaughter.”{111}
“Ah!” The long-drawn exclamation53 was one of triumphant54 satisfaction. Again the Egyptian relapsed into thought, and the minister was growing impatient when his strange visitor at last spoke55.
“Sir,” said he, “you ask me what you can do to assist me. I will tell you. Obtain for Lord Roane a diplomatic post in Cairo, under Lord Cromer. Obtain some honorable place for his son as well. That will take the entire family to Egypt—my own country.”
“Well?”
“In London there is no vendetta. Crimes that the law cannot reach are allowed to go unpunished. In Egypt we are Nature’s children. No false civilization glosses56 our wrongs or denies our right to protect our honor. I implore57 you, my lord, as you respect the memory of poor Hatatcha, to send Lord Roane and his family to Egypt.”
“I will,” said the minister, with stern brow.
And so it was that the Government remembered old Lord Roane, and likewise his illustrious son, the Viscount Roger Consinor, and sent them to Egypt on missions of trust.
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1
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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creditors
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| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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prodigality
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| n.浪费，挥霍 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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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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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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irreproachable
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| adj.不可指责的，无过失的 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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maidenly
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| adj. 像处女的, 谨慎的, 稳静的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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18
reclaim
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| v.要求归还，收回；开垦 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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arrears
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| n.到期未付之债，拖欠的款项；待做的工作 | |
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lucrative
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| adj.赚钱的，可获利的 | |
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astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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renown
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| n.声誉，名望 | |
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premier
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| adj.首要的；n.总理，首相 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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vendetta
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| n.世仇，宿怨 | |
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44
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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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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impunity
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| n.(惩罚、损失、伤害等的)免除 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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avenged
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| v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 )；为…报复 | |
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49
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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50
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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51
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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52
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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53
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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54
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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55
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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56
glosses
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| n.（页末或书后的）注释( gloss的名词复数 )；（表面的）光滑；虚假的外表；用以产生光泽的物质v.注解( gloss的第三人称单数 )；掩饰（错误）；粉饰；把…搪塞过去 | |
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57
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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