A frost had set in with the evening, the road was like metal, and the sound of the horse’s hoofs1 rang upon the air like the sound of a trip-hammer on anvil2.
A detour3 of several miles brought him to the main avenue gate of the Hall.
A groom4 was waiting at the steps of the house; he took the horse, which was lathered5 with foam6, and the horseman, without a word, went up the steps.
He entered a large galleried hall, hung with armour7 and trophies8 of the chase; a great fire blazed cheerily on the immense hearth9, and the soft electric light fell upon the Siberian bear-skins, and lit with the light of another age the quaint10 figures of the dark oak carvings11 that were there when Charles was King.
Sir Anthony Gyde passed across the hall, opened a door, and entered the library.
He paced up and down. To-morrow evening at this hour he was due to meet Spain in the person of her Ambassador, and to discuss a loan that had been entrusted12 to his hands.
But he was not thinking of Spain. For the moment the affairs of the world were nothing to him.
For the moment his mind was driven into communication with his soul.
As he walked up and down, now with his hands in his pockets, now with his arms crossed, his face wore that expression which a face wears when its owner finds himself fronting his fate.
The most terrible experience in life is to meet the past, and to find that it is still living.
What a helpless, vague, futile13 country seems the past; just a picture, a voice, a dream. Yet what demons14 live there, active and in being.
Men fear the future, but it is in the past that danger lies. At any moment one of those old vague pictures that lie beyond yesterday, may become animated15, and the woman we betrayed in the rose garden, or the brother of the man we killed in the desert, may enter our lives through some unseen door.
Gyde, having paced the room for some ten minutes, rang a bell by the mantel and ordered the servant who answered it to summon Gristlethwaite, the land-agent.
He was a short, thick-set man, Cumbrian by birth, but with little trace of the accent.
Sir Anthony bade him be seated, ordered in cigars and whisky, and plunged16 into business.
He was once more the level-headed business man, the man who could take in the whole details of the management of a big estate in a few hours, pick holes in it, point out errors, and show as deep a knowledge of detail as though he lived there all the year round.
It was past dinner-time, but he apparently17 forgot the fact.
After several hours’ conversation and inspection18 of accounts, Sir Anthony, who was standing19 with his back to the mantelpiece, suddenly, in the middle of a confabulation about drainage, turned the conversation.
“By the way,” he said, “have you seen an artist fellow about here, man in a broad-brimmed hat—”
“If he’s the man you mean,” replied the agent, “I believe it’s a man with a German name, Klein, an artist. I let him have Skirle Cottage a month ago.”
“Klein,” said the other, in a meditative20 tone.
“He took it for three months,” went on Gristlethwaite. “Paid in advance. He brought some sticks of furniture from Penrith; he’s an ill-looking chap, but his money is good; half-cracked I should think, coming here this time of year.”
“He didn’t give you any references.”
“No, he paid in advance; I was in two minds about letting him have the place, but since old Lewthwaite’s death it has been lying idle and going to pieces.”
“Did you have any conversation with him?”
“Yes, sir,” said Gristlethwaite, “and his talk struck me as a bit daft. I cannot remember all he said, but I remember he told he me had lived in Paris and had seen you there.”
“What else did he say, try and think. I saw the fellow this evening sketching21 the stones, and I don’t like the look of him; one never knows in these days what burglars are about.”
“Oh, I don’t think he’s anything of that sort,” replied the other, “and I can’t very well remember the words he said, except that he was reckoned a great artist and that he had come down here to complete his masterpiece.”
Sir Anthony made that movement of the shoulders of a person who, to use a vulgar expression, feels a goose walking upon his grave.
“Well,” he said. “I suppose he has taken the cottage, and we can’t turn him out.”
Then he went on conversing22 about the drainage, at the exact point where he had left off, as though Klein, the cottage, and the masterpiece were things of no account.
At ten Gristlethwaite departed.
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1
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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2
anvil
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| n.铁钻 | |
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3
detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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4
groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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5
lathered
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| v.（指肥皂）形成泡沫( lather的过去式和过去分词 )；用皂沫覆盖；狠狠地打 | |
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6
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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7
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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8
trophies
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| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
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9
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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10
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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11
carvings
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| n.雕刻( carving的名词复数 )；雕刻术；雕刻品；雕刻物 | |
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12
entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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14
demons
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| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
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15
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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16
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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17
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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18
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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19
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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20
meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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21
sketching
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| n.草图 | |
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22
conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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