But when Mrs Ainslie got home, and began to reflect on the matter, she saw how great a mistake she had made. If she knew him, so did he also know her and all her antecedents. It had given her a thrill of pleasure to think of meeting him, and talking over the past; but it was equally possible to her to betray him, in her new r?le as a respectable member of society: and she knew that she would not hesitate to do so, should it prove necessary. But it was equally possible that he might betray her. It did not take her more than five minutes’ serious thinking, when the first excitement of the discovery was over, to show her that to disclose herself to Lew, and put in his hands a means of ruining her, or of holding her in terror at least, was the last thing that was to be desired. Lew in Colorado, or as a chance exile from that paradise, ready to disappear again into the unknown, was little dangerous, and a chance meeting with him the most amusing accident that was likely to befall her. But Lew in England, or, still worse, Scotland, at her very door, ready on any occasion to inform her new friends who she was or had been, was a very different matter. She owned to herself that{289} she had never done anything so mad or foolish in her life. On the eve of becoming Mr Logan’s wife, of being provided for for the rest of her life, of being looked up to and respected, and an authority in the place—and by one foolish word to throw all this, which was almost certainty, into the chaos21 of risk and daily danger, at the mercy of a man who could spoil everything if he pleased, or could at least hold the sword over her head and make her existence a burden to her! What a thing was this which she had done! When she saw Mr Logan to the door on that evening, her aspect was more animated22 and bright than ever, but her heart in reality was quaking. It was foolish of her to take the candle; but it was her habit, and it would have been remarked, she thought in her terror, if she had not done it: and then she stood and looked up and down, still with that light in her hand—thankful that at least the minister was gone, that he would not meet these visitors if they came: then with relief making up her mind that they would not come—that Lew, if he were in hiding, would be as much afraid of her as she of him.
She had a disturbed night, full of alarm and much planning and thinking, sitting up till it was almost daylight, in terror that the visit which she had been so foolish as to invite might be paid at any unlawful hour. And when the next morning came, it was apparent to her that she must do something at once{290} to provide against such a danger, to save herself from the consequences of her foolishness. How it had been that an adventuress like this had managed to secure for her daughter the most respectable of marriages in respectable Edinburgh, is a question into which I cannot enter. It had not been, indeed, Mrs Ainslie’s doing at all. The girl, who knew none of her mother’s disreputable secrets, had made acquaintance in a foreign hotel with some girls of her own age, who had afterwards invited her to visit them in Edinburgh. Such things are done every day, and come to harm so seldom that it is scarcely worth taking the adverse23 chances into consideration. And there, in the shelter of a most respectable family, the most respectable of men had fallen in love with Sophie. It was all so rapid that examination into the position of the Ainslies was impossible. Sophie had no money: her father had been killed in some campaign in India which happened to coincide with the date of her birth. She was pretty, and not anything but good so far as her up-bringing had permitted. I give this brief sketch24 in hot haste, as indeed the matter was done—for Mrs Ainslie had announced that she had only come to Eskholm for a few weeks, and was going “abroad” again immediately. Perhaps it was the acquisition of a son-in-law so absolutely correct as Mr Thomas Blair—dear Tom, as his mother-in-law always called him—that put into her head the possibility of becoming{291} herself an exceptionable member of society, furnished with all possible certificates by marrying Mr Logan. At all events, it was her son-in-law to whom she now betook herself after many thoughts, with that skill of the long-experienced schemer which is capable of using truth as an instrument often more effectual than falsehood. She went to him (he was a lawyer) with all the candour of a woman who has made, with grief for her neighbour, a dreadful discovery, and who in the interests of her neighbour, not in her own—for what could she have to do with anything so wicked and terrible?—thinks it necessary to reveal what she has seen. In this way she made Mr Blair aware of the circumstances of her visit at the Hewan, and the man she had seen there. She told him that she had been present at the trial of this man in America—it was one of her frank and simple statements, which were so perfectly25 candid26 and above board, that she had lived in various parts of America after her husband’s death—for various terrible crimes. She had seen him in court for days together, and could not be mistaken in him: and the idea that so excellent a person as Mrs Ogilvy had such a man in her house was too dreadful to think of. What should she do? Should she warn Mrs Ogilvy? But then no doubt he was in some way mixed up with Mrs Ogilvy’s son, who had lately returned home in a mysterious and unexpected way. Mr Blair was much interested by the story.{292} He sympathised fully27 in the dreadful dilemma28 in which the poor lady found herself. He, too, knew Mrs Ogilvy, and remembered Robbie in his youth perfectly well. He was always a weak fellow, ready to be led away by any one. No doubt her idea was quite right. And then he smote29 his hand upon his leg, and gave vent2 to a whistle. “What if it should turn out to be this Lew Smith or Lew Wallace or something, for whom there was a warrant out, and a detective from America on the search!”
“Lew—that is exactly the name—I had forgotten—his other name I don’t remember. He was spoken of as Lew——”
“And you could swear to this fellow? You are sure you could swear to him?”
“Swear! oh, with a clear conscience! But don’t ask me to, dear Tom. Think what it is for a delicate woman—the publicity30, the notoriety! Oh, don’t make me appear in a court: I should never, never survive it!” she cried.
“Oh, nonsense, mamma!” The respectable son-in-law was so completely innocent of all suspicion that he had adopted his wife’s name for her mother. “But I allow it’s not pleasant for a lady,” he said: “perhaps you won’t be wanted—but you could on an emergency swear to him.”
“If it was of the last necessity,” she said, trembling, and her trembling was very real. She said to{293} herself at the same moment, No! never! appear in an open court with Lew opposite to me,—never! never! She was one of the many people in the world who think, after they have put the match to the gunpowder31, that there is still time to do something to make it miss fire.
Tom Blair was very sympathetic with the woman’s tremors32 who could not appear in a public court, and yet would do so if it was absolutely necessary. He bade her go home to Sophie and have some lunch, and that he would himself return as early as he could, and tell her if he heard anything. And Mrs Ainslie went to the Royal Crescent, where the pair were established, and admired the nice new furniture, and the man in livery of whom Sophie was so proud. But she did not wait to hear what news dear Tom would bring home. She left all sorts of messages for him, telling of engagements she had, and things to be done for Mr Logan. She could not face him again: and it began to appear a danger for her, though she had great confidence in her powers of invention, to be questioned too closely by any one accustomed to evidence, who might turn her inside out before she knew. And, indeed, her mind was very busy working, now that she had put that match to the gunpowder, to prevent it going off. She went into a stationer’s shop on the way to the station, and got paper and an envelope, and wrote, disguising her hand,{294} an anonymous33 letter to Mrs Ogilvy, bidding her get her guest off at once, for the police were after him. This was a work of art with which Mrs Ainslie was not at all unacquainted, and she flattered herself that the post-mark “Edinburgh” would quench34 all suggestions of herself as its author. If he only could get away safe without compromising any one, that would be so much better. She did not want to be hard upon him. Oh, not at all. She had been silly, very silly, to think of a meeting: but she bore him no malice35. If he had the sense to steal away before any one went after him, that would be far the best and the safest of all.
She went home to her house, and there proceeded with her preparations for her marriage, which had been going on merrily. She spent the afternoon with her dressmaker, an occupation which pleased her very much. She was not a needlewoman, she could not make anything that was wanted for herself—but she could stand for hours like a lay figure to be “tried on.” That did not weary her at all; and this process made the time pass as perhaps nothing else could have done. Mr Logan once more spent the evening with her, and she had again a time of dreadful anxiety, in the fear that still Lew might appear, might meet the minister at the door, and rouse a thousand questions. For the first time it began to appear possible to her that her marriage might not{295} come off after all. She might never wear these new dresses—all dove-colour and the softest semi-religious tints—as Mr Logan’s wife. She might have to set out on the world again, and get her living somehow, instead of being safe for the rest of her days. Instinctively36 she began to scheme for that, as well as for the direct contrary of that, and in the same breath arranged, in her mind, for the packing of the new dresses and their transfer to the capacious cupboards in the manse, and for sending them back to the dressmaker if she should have to turn her back on the manse and fly. She did not feel sure now which thing would come to pass.
But once more the evening passed and nobody came. She stood for some time at her door after the minister left: but this time in the darkness, without any candle, listening earnestly for any step or movement in the night; but no one came. Had he taken fright and gone away at once? That was the thing most to be desired, but from that very fact the most unlikely to have happened. It was too good to be true; and Lew was not the man to be challenged and not to accept the challenge—unless he were arrested already! That was always possible, but that too was almost too good to be true. And then there was the chance that he might say something about her, that he might spoil her fortune without doing any good to his own. If she harmed him, it was for{296} good reasons, to save herself; and also, a plea not to be despised, to save poor good old Mrs Ogilvy: but he, if he did so, would do it only out of revenge, and without knowing even that it was she who had betrayed him. All that night and the next day she was in a great state of nervous excitement, not able to keep quiet. She went to the manse, and she came back again, and could not rest anywhere. Apparently37 nothing had happened; for if there had been a raid of the police, however private, and an arrest effected at the Hewan—and she knew Lew would not tamely allow himself to be taken—some news of it must have oozed38 out. It would be strange if it passed off without bloodshed, she said to herself. She would have understood very well that movement of his hand to his pocket which Mrs Ogilvy beheld39 so quietly without knowing at all what it meant. However carefully he might be entrapped40, however sudden the rush might be upon him, Lew, who always had his wits perfectly about him, would have time to get at his revolver. She knew so much better than any one what must happen, and yet here she was a mile off and knowing nothing. She fluttered out and in of the manse in the afternoon in her excitement, very gay to all appearance, and talking a great deal.
“You are in excellent spirits to-day, my dear,” said the minister, who was delighted with her gaiety. “But I hope the leddy be-na fey,” was what his old{297} experienced cook, who, not able to tolerate a new mistress, was leaving, said.
“You used to pay visits in the evening before I came on the scene,” she said to her elderly lover. “You used to go and see your ladies: now confess—I know you did.”
“I don’t know what you mean by my ladies,” said the minister, who was, however, flattered by the imputation41. “I have never had any lady, my dear, till I met you.”
“That is all very well,” she replied, “but we know what pastoral visits mean. You don’t go and see the men like that. Now there is Mrs Ogilvy, who was, you told me, your oldest friend. You never go near her now. You used to go there at all times—in the afternoons, and in the evenings, and sometimes to supper——”
“My dear, I have wanted to see nobody but you for a couple of months past,” the minister said.
“Let us go back to the old customs,” she said. “I want a bit of change to-night. I have got the fidgets or something. I can’t sit still. I want, if you understand what that is, or if you won’t be shocked, a bit of a spree.”
“Oh, I understand what it is,” said Mr Logan, with a laugh; “but I am much shocked, and when you come to the manse you must not speak any more of a bit of a spree.”{298}
“I shan’t want it then perhaps,” she said, with a look that flattered the foolish man. “But, for the present moment, what do you say to walking up to the Hewan after supper?—and then perhaps we shall see something of Mrs Ogilvy’s two mysterious men.”
“You’ll not do that, surely you’ll not do that, papa!” cried Susie. “Mrs Ogilvy’s men are just her son Robbie, whom we all know, and some friend of his. They are not mysterious—there is nothing at all to find out—and it would vex42 her if we tried to find out,” she cried in a troubled tone.
“You shall just come too, to punish you for your objections, Susie. Come, come! I have taken one of my turns to-night. I can’t keep still. Let us go. The walk will be delightful43, and then it will amuse me to find out the mysterious men. I shouldn’t wonder if I knew one of them. I always know somebody wherever I go. Now, are you going to humour me, James, or are you not? I shall take the last train to Edinburgh, and go to a theatre or somewhere to blow away my fidgets, if you won’t come.”
“We must just humour her, Susie,” said the minister.
“Do so if you like, papa,” said Susie; “but not me. I have plenty to do at home.”
“She thinks Mr Maitland may perhaps look in,{299} to ask for the hundredth time if she will fix the day. That’s always amusing—a man after you like that; but make her come, James, make her come. I want her to come with us to-night.”
“I tell you we will just have to humour her, Susie,” Mr Logan said. He was charmed, and yet he was a little troubled too by the vivacity44 of his betrothed45. When she was “at the manse,” as he said, she must be made to understand that nocturnal expeditions like this were not in an elderly bridegroom’s way. But at all events, for once she must be humoured to-night.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
vent
|
|
| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
rustic
|
|
| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
absurdity
|
|
| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
professed
|
|
| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
meek
|
|
| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
inquiry
|
|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
esteemed
|
|
| adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
piquant
|
|
| adj.辛辣的，开胃的，令人兴奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
misnomers
|
|
| n.使用不当的名字或名称( misnomer的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
13
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
ennui
|
|
| n.怠倦，无聊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
mutual
|
|
| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
jack
|
|
| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
feat
|
|
| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
dismal
|
|
| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
jovial
|
|
| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
refreshing
|
|
| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
chaos
|
|
| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
animated
|
|
| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
adverse
|
|
| adj.不利的；有害的；敌对的，不友好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
sketch
|
|
| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
candid
|
|
| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
dilemma
|
|
| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
smote
|
|
| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
publicity
|
|
| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
gunpowder
|
|
| n.火药 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
tremors
|
|
| 震颤( tremor的名词复数 )； 战栗； 震颤声； 大地的轻微震动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
anonymous
|
|
| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
quench
|
|
| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
malice
|
|
| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
oozed
|
|
| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
entrapped
|
|
| v.使陷入圈套，使入陷阱( entrap的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
imputation
|
|
| n.归罪，责难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
vex
|
|
| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
vivacity
|
|
| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
betrothed
|
|
| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |