As type of holy motherhood,
I pray thee, for thy Son's dear sake,
This sorrow from my bosom1 take.
For there are those, with anger wild,
Who wound the mother thro' the child.
I know that thou wilt2 pity me,
For thy Son hung upon the tree.
And as He died to save and bless,
Oh, help me, thou, in my distress3."
After he had finished a very nice little dinner, with a small bottle of champagne4 to add zest5 to it, Mr. Beaumont lighted a cigarette, and sat down comfortably before the fire, in order to wait for Reginald Blake. He had written to the young man, announcing his arrival and asking him to call, so he had no doubt but that he would be favoured with a visit. Having, therefore, arranged his plan of action, he lay back indolently in his chair, making plans for the future, and building air-castles amid the blue spirals of smoke which curled upward from his lips.
About seven o'clock he heard a knock at the door, and in answer to his invitation to enter, a woman made her appearance. Beaumont, who had merely turned his head to greet Reginald, was rather astonished at this unexpected guest, and arose to his feet in order to see who it was. His visitor closed the door carefully after her and stepped forward so that she came within the circle of light cast by the lamp on the table, then, throwing back her veil, looked steadily6 at the artist.
"Patience!"
"Yes, Patience," she replied, sitting down on a chair near the table. "You did not expect to see me?"
"Well, no," answered Beaumont, indolently leaning against the mantelpiece. "I must confess I did not--but if you want to speak with me, I can spare you very little time, as I am waiting----"
"For Reginald?" she interrupted quickly. "Yes, I know that."
"The deuce you do! What a wonderful woman you are! How did you find out I was here?"
"I left instructions that I was to be informed of your arrival, as I wished to speak with you before you saw our son."
"Indeed! And what do you want to speak to me about?"
"Your letter."
"I think my letter was too clear to require further explanation," he said impatiently. "I told you my intentions."
"You did--and I have come to tell you they will not be carried out."
"Is that so?" said Beaumont, with a sneer7. "Well, we'll see. Who will prevent me doing what I like?"
"I will."
"Really--I'm afraid you over-rate your powers, my dear Patience. You are a clever woman, no doubt--a very clever woman--but there are limits."
"As you observe, very truly, there are limits," she retorted fiercely, "and those limits you have overstepped. Do you think I am going to stand by and see you wring8 money out of my son?"
"Our son," he corrected gently. "You forget I am his father. As to wringing9 money out of him, that's a very unpleasant way of putting it. I simply propose to appeal to his common sense."
"Sit down," said Patience, suddenly. "I wish to speak to you."
Beaumont shrugged10 his shoulders, then, pushing the arm-chair to one side, sat down in it so that he faced her fairly, keeping, however, with habitual11 caution, his face well in the shade.
"By all means," he said amiably12. "I always humour a woman when there is nothing to be gained by doing otherwise. Go on, my dear friend, I'm all attention."
The housekeeper13 was leaning forward, resting her elbows on the table, and he could see her finely-cut, bloodless face--looking as if carved out of marble, in the yellow rays of the lamp-light--with her nostrils14 dilated15, her lips firmly closed, and her black eyes sparkling with suppressed anger.
"I see it's going to be a duel16 to the death," he said, in a mocking tone, leaning his head against the cushion of the chair. "Well, I do not mind--I'm fond of duels17."
"You are a fiend!" she burst out angrily.
"Really! Did you come all this way to impart that information? If so, you have wasted your time. I've heard the same remark so often."
His brutally18 cool manner had a wonderfully calming effect upon her, for after this one outburst of anger, she appeared to crush down her wrath19 by a strong effort of will, smiled disdainfully, and went on to speak in a cold, clear voice.
"Listen to me, Basil Beaumont: years ago you did me the worst harm a man can do a woman--you destroyed my life, but thanks to my own cleverness I managed to preserve at least the outward semblance20 of a pure woman without sacrificing our son in any way, but do you think that has cost me nothing--do you think I did not feel bitter pangs21 at having to deny my own son, and to veil my maternal22 longings23 under the guise24 of a servant? I did so, not so much to preserve my own good name as to benefit the boy. I wanted him to think he had no heritage of shame, so that he could feel at least pride and self-respect. When I obtained the reward of my sacrifice--when I saw that my son was satisfied with his lot and had talents to make his way in the world you came down for the second time to ruin not my life, but his--the life of an innocent being, who had never done you any harm. I entered into your vile25 conspiracy26 because I thought it would benefit my son, and now I repent27 bitterly that I ever did so. Owing to the foul28 lie you compelled me to tell, he has gained a fortune, but lost his self-respect. You do not understand the feeling, because your heart these many years has been steeped in wickedness, but think what it has done to our unhappy child--cast a blight29 upon his life which no money, no position can ever remove--his youth died from the moment I told him that lie, and whose work is it--mine or yours, Basil Beaumont? Mine or yours?"
She paused a moment, moistened her dry lips with her tongue, and then went on speaking rapidly with vehemence30.
"And now when the worst is over--when he is firmly settled in possession of that wealth it has cost him his youthful happiness to gain--when he is going to marry the woman he loves, who will be able to comfort him in some measure--you once more return to work ruin for the third time--you demand money to hush31 up a disgraceful secret--you would not only tell him that he is still a nameless outcast, but you would take all his money from him, yes, and take also the girl who is to be his wife--you would leave him a pauper--an outcast--a miserable32 being with neither self-respect, nor riches, nor consolation33. I implore34 you for my sake--for his sake--for your own sake, not to do this--our crime has shadowed his young life too much already--tell him no more--go away from this place, and let him have at least one chance of happiness."
She arose to her feet at the last words, and stretched out her arms appealingly towards Beaumont with humid eyes and an imploring35 expression on her face. The artist sat silent, smiling cynically36, with a savage37 glitter in his eyes, and when she had finished, broke into a hard laugh as he also arose to his feet, flinging his cigarette viciously into the fire.
"A very pretty thing to ask me to do," he said mockingly, "and a very useless request to make. Do you think I care for his feelings or yours?--not the snap of a finger. I put Reginald in possession of the Garsworth estate not for his own sake, but for mine. Had he been wise and allowed me to guide him, he would have known no more than he does now. If he gives me the money I ask, it is even now not too late, but I am not going to spare him, either for his own sake or yours. He will be here soon, and I will tell him everything, so if he does not give me what I ask, I'll ruin him body and soul."
Patience flung herself at his feet, and burst into tears.
"For God's sake, Basil, spare him."
"No."
"He is your child."
"The more reason for him to help me."
"Have you no mercy?"
"None--if it means getting no money."
"For my sake, spare him."
"For your sake least of all."
"You intend to tell him?"
"I do. You can save yourself the trouble of making this melodramatic exhibition. I'm not going to move one hair's breath from the position I have taken up. I want money, and I mean to have it."
Patience sprang to her feet in an access of mad fury and stood before him with clenched38 hands and blazing eyes.
"Are you not afraid I'll kill you?"
"Not a bit."
"You defy me."
"I do."
She drew a long breath, and snatched up her gloves from the table, her passion subsiding39 under his cool brutality40 as a stormy sea subsides41 when oil is cast upon the waters.
"Very well," she said coolly. "I'll tell everything to Doctor Larcher, and get him to prosecute42 both of us for conspiracy. I will stand in the dock and you beside me."
Beaumont laughed sneeringly43.
"I've no doubt you will stand in the dock," he said with emphasis, "but not me. I have done nothing in the matter, you everything. Who is to prove I hypnotised the old man, and forged the papers making Reginald the heir?--no one. Who is to prove that you falsely passed off your son as the heir?--everyone. You are the sole representative of the conspiracy, and I shall simply deny the whole affair. It will be my word against yours, and with such strong evidence as can be brought against you I fancy you'll get the worst of it."
An expression of terror passed over the face of the unhappy woman as she saw what a gulf44 was open at her feet. It was true what he said--she was the only one who had spoken--to all outward appearances he had in nowise been implicated45 in the conspiracy. With a cry of despair, she reeled back against the wall, covering her face with her hands. At that moment Reginald's voice was heard outside, and with a rapid movement, Beaumont sprang forward and caught one of her wrists in his grip.
"Here is Reginald," he said in a harsh whisper, "hold your tongue or it will be the worse for you. I don't want him to see you--hide in here and keep silent. What I intend to do will depend upon the result of this interview."
Patience said nothing, as all power of will seemed to have deserted46 her, but allowed herself to be dragged towards a door in the wall which communicated with a staircase leading to the upper part of the house. Pushing her in here, Beaumont closed the door, then rapidly returned to the fireplace and flung himself into his chair.
"Act I. has been rather stormy," he said to himself with a sneer. "I wonder what Act II. will be like."
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1
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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2
wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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3
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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4
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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5
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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6
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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7
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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8
wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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9
wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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10
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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11
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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12
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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13
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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14
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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15
dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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17
duels
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| n.两男子的决斗( duel的名词复数 )；竞争，斗争 | |
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18
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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19
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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20
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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21
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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22
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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23
longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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24
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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25
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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26
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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27
repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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28
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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29
blight
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| n.枯萎病；造成破坏的因素；vt.破坏，摧残 | |
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30
vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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31
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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32
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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33
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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34
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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35
imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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36
cynically
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| adv.爱嘲笑地，冷笑地 | |
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37
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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38
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
subsiding
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的现在分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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40
brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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41
subsides
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的第三人称单数 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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42
prosecute
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| vt.告发；进行；vi.告发，起诉，作检察官 | |
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43
sneeringly
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| 嘲笑地，轻蔑地 | |
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44
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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45
implicated
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| adj.密切关联的；牵涉其中的 | |
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46
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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