But this time, it was not, as before, a profound stupor6, a deaf, blind, torpid7, state of nothingness. Though it lasted some hours, he never quite lost an oppressive sense of overhanging trouble, imperfectly as its nature was apprehended9. Moreover, he was harassed10 by dreams of that most trying character, wherein varying images revolve11 around one fixed12 idea; combining the misery13 of continual change with that of ceaseless iteration into one intolerable horror.
Breaking, at length, from the teasing spell of these phantasms, he saw that it was past midnight. Through the opposite window, he beheld14 a pale, waning15 moon, and, by its light, a gray, dimly-outlined landscape,—a faint and lifeless sketch16, as it were, of a once bright, breathing world. While he looked, over it came the black shadow of a wind-driven cloud, blurring17 the lines, here and there, into still grayer indistinctness, sweeping18 across the lawn, mounting the steps of Bergan Hall, and laying, at last, its thin, light hand over his own brow and eyes.
With it, as if by right of near kinship, a deep gloom fell upon his heart. Till now, it had not occurred to him why his head ached so heavily, nor what weary weight it was that burdened his mind. Yet he did not—as too many would have done, after a brief flush of shame, and a momentary19 feeling of regret—seek to throw off this burden by telling himself that his late aberration20 was, after all, a matter of small moment, since it was only what hundreds like him had done before, were now doing, and would continue to do till the end of time. Not of any such weak stuff, incapable21 of looking his own acts squarely in the face, and judging them according to their merits, was Bergan made. On the contrary, he felt as much humiliated22 as if he had been the first, last, only intoxicated23 young man in the universe.
And this, be it understood, was not so much because he had violated the higher law, as because he had broken his own law unto himself. With the Bergan temper, he had also inherited a fair share of the Bergan pride, and the Bergan strength of will. But, softened24 and guided by home influences at once wise and genial25, the one had hitherto shown itself mainly in a lofty, almost an ideal, purity of character, and the other had expended26 its force chiefly upon himself. The two, therefore, had served him little less effectually, in keeping him free from current vices27, than higher motives28 might have done. He had taken a stern, proud pleasure in knowing that he wore no yoke29 but such as it pleased him deliberately30 to assume. He would have scorned to say, what he often heard from the lips of his fellows,—"I cannot quit drinking, I cannot live without smoking, I cannot resist the fascinations31 of gambling," et c?tera;—he would have felt it a woful slur32 upon his manhood to avow33 himself so abject34 a slave to his animal nature. So strong was this pride of character, that no sooner did he feel any habit, any appetite, any pleasure, however innocent in itself, taking firm hold of him, than he was immediately impelled35 to give it up, to refuse it indulgence,—for a time, at least,—just to satisfy one part of himself that its control over the other and baser part was still perfect. At whatever price, he was determined36 to be his own master.
It may be imagined, then, with what sharp sting of pride, what miserable37 sense of weakness and failure, he writhed38, as Memory now flung open the doors of her silent gallery, and showed him sombre picture after picture, representing his own figure in divers39 humiliating positions. It shrank from the utterance40 of its strong convictions of right; it gave way to the assaults of a poor ambition; it drifted with circumstance; it was driven to and fro like a shuttlecock between outward temptation and inward passion; it was successively a fighting rowdy, a blind lunatic, an insensate drunkard.
Not that these representations were all true in tone, unexaggerated in color, and correct in sentiment. Often, there is nothing more difficult than to fix upon the exact point where the plain boundary line between right and wrong was crossed; and neither pride nor remorse42 is apt to do it correctly. Some steps may have been taken upon a kind of debatable ground; had the march been arrested at any one of these, its tendency would have been different. In reviewing his conduct, Bergan failed to do justice either to his uncle's undeniable claims to his respectful consideration, up to the point where he had been required to follow him into a low bar-room, or to the real beauty and worth of some of his own feelings and motives. Looking back, he saw—or seemed to see—only a pitiable career of irresolution43 and moral cowardice44, ending in disgrace. Covering his face with his hands, as if to shut out the unwelcome sight, he groaned45 aloud.
To his surprise, the groan46 was distinctly prolonged and repeated. Was it the responsive wail47 of the ancestral spirits, mourning over their degenerate48 scion49, or only the sympathizing echo of the ancestral walls? Springing to his feet, he beheld a tall, erect50 figure standing4 on the hearth51, showing strangely weird52 and unearthly by the flickering53 blaze of a few dying embers. Not till it turned and came toward him did he recognize the dusky features and age-whitened hair of Maumer Rue41.
"I hope that it is not on my account that you are up at this time of night," said he, gravely.
"You forget that night and day are both alike to me," she quietly answered. "Are you better?"
"Much better, thank you." And he added after a moment,—"How came I here?"
"Brick found you in the avenue. By my direction, you were brought in. At first, it was thought that you had been thrown from your horse, but—"
Rue paused.
"I understand," said Bergan, bitterly. "I was drunk."
Rue did not immediately answer. It was only after some moments that she said, earnestly;—
"Master Bergan, I am an old woman. I have seen four generations of your house,—I have nursed two,—and I have spent my life in its service. If it had been my own, I could not have loved it better, nor felt its welfare nearer my heart. If these things give me any right to say a word of warning to you, let me say it now!"
"Say whatever seems good to you," replied Bergan, gloomily, as he flung himself into a chair. "I doubt if you can say anything so hard to bear as what I have already said to myself."
"Is that so?" asked Rue, in a tone of relief—"is that really so? Then I need not say anything. It is a higher voice than mine that speaks within you; and my poor words would only weaken its effect. Only listen to it, Master Bergan, pray listen to it!" she went on, with tears streaming from her blind eyes. "If you stifle54 it now, it may never speak so clearly again!"
"Make yourself easy, maumer," answered Bergan, much affected55, yet doing his best to speak cheerfully,—"I have not the least intention of stifling56 it. Moreover, I assure you that I am in no danger of repeating last night's miserable experience; drunkenness is not my besetting57 sin. I only wish I were as certain that I should never again give way to my temper."
"It has run in the blood a great while," remarked Rue, not without a certain respect for its length of pedigree; "it will be hard to get it out."
"It shall be gotten out, though," responded Bergan, knitting his brows and setting his teeth with true hereditary58 doggedness.
"Very likely it may," replied Rue, quietly, "if you take that tone. No doubt the Lord meant the Bergan will to conquer the Bergan temper—with His help. But I will not trouble you any longer, sir;—thank you for setting my mind at rest. And don't be offended if I recommend you not to come in your uncle's way this morning; give him a little time to get into a better mood. I will send your breakfast out to you."
Bergan's brow darkened. "I do not intend to come in his way," he answered a little shortly, "neither this morning, nor at any other time. My visit here is at an end. I leave this house directly."
"Oh, Master Bergan, I beg you will not do that!" exclaimed Rue. "Your uncle really loves you in his heart; he will soon forget all about his anger."
"It is not because I dread59 his anger that I go," replied Bergan, gravely; "it is because he has lowered me in my own eyes, and disgraced me in the eyes of others, in a way that I cannot forget. At least, not until I have proved to myself that I am neither a moral coward nor a miserable parasite60, and to the world that drinking and fighting are not the essential conditions of my existence. I cannot well do either without leaving Bergan Hall. And I certainly shall not put myself in my uncle's way again, until he sees fit to apologize for what he did yesterday."
"Is the world turned upside down, then," asked Rue, with a kind of slow wonder, "that an old uncle must apologize to a young nephew?"
Bergan colored, and the unwonted bitterness and irritation61 of his manner gave way before the force of the implied rebuke62.
"Thank you," said he, almost in his natural tone, "I see that I am—or, at least, that I was,—a little beside myself. Still, I must leave Bergan Hall. I cannot think it right or expedient63 to remain here longer. But when I have put myself in the way of living independently, and cleared up my reputation, I will do what I can, without loss of self-respect, to establish friendly relations with my uncle. Indeed, I do not mean to be foolishly resentful, nor unbecomingly exacting64."
"May I ask what you are going to do?" inquired Rue, after a few moments of thought.
"Certainly. I am going to carry out my original plan, and my mother's express wish, by opening a law-office in Berganton, and doing my best to win fame and fortune in the place which my ancestors founded; and in which," he added, with a smile, "their shades may reasonably be expected to watch my career with especial interest, and also to do me a good turn, whenever they have it in their power."
"Well," said Rue, after a long pause, "perhaps you are right. I think I begin to see that it may be quite as well for you to go away, for a time. You shall not lose anything by it; I will take care of that. I have more influence with your uncle than you would think. And I promise you,—remember, I promise you," she repeated, with marked emphasis,—"whatever comes, you shall have Bergan Hall."
The young man shook his head. "I think not," said he. "Indeed, I have ceased to wish for it; I do not see any place for it in the life which I now contemplate65. It was but a pleasant day-dream, at best; and it is over."
"It may be over for you," rejoined Rue, quietly, "but it is not over for me. And my dreams are apt to come true. I may not live to see it,—indeed, it is borne in upon me that I shall not,—but the Hall will surely be yours, one day."
Bergan again shook his head. Without making any pretensions66 to the prophetic gift, he thought he could foretell67, better than old Rue, the effect of the course which he had marked out for himself, upon his uncle. But the blind woman could not see the gesture; and he forebore to put his doubt into words,—unless its subtle prompting was to be detected in his next apparently68 irrelevant69 sentence:—
"I shall think it one of my first duties to go and see my uncle Godfrey."
"I am glad to hear it," replied Rue, placidly70. "He is a wise, just man; and no doubt he will give you good advice about setting up your profession. I have been hoping that, through you, this long family breach71 would be healed."
And here the conversation strayed off amid thick-growing family topics, where it is unnecessary to follow it.
Gray dawn was in the east when, after a long, lingering look at the ancestral portraits, Bergan went out from the old Hall. He could scarcely believe that it was less than a week since he first entered it. He had passed there one of those crises of life which do the work of years. His short occupancy had left its indelible impress upon his character, for good or evil.
Rue attended him to the door, and detained him for a moment on the threshold.
"If ever you are in need of a quiet place where you can feel perfectly8 at home," said she, "come here. Your room shall always be ready for you; and you might stay here for weeks together, and no one be the wiser,—rarely does any one but me come inside the door. And if ever you should be in any trouble, or in any want, come and see what the old, blind woman can do for you; she may be better able to help you than you think. And now, good-bye, and God bless you, my dear young master—the future master of Bergan Hall!"
She raised her withered72 hands and sightless eyes to heaven, as she ended; and when Bergan looked back from the farther verge73 of the lawn, she was standing there still, in the dim dawn-light, a gray, venerable, ghostly figure, framed in his ancestral doorway74, calling down blessings75 on his head.
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1
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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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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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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torpid
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| adj.麻痹的，麻木的，迟钝的 | |
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8
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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apprehended
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| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 )； 理解 | |
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harassed
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| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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revolve
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| vi.(使)旋转；循环出现 | |
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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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13
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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14
beheld
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| 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 | |
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15
waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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16
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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17
blurring
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| n.模糊，斑点甚多，（图像的）混乱v.（使）变模糊( blur的现在分词 )；（使）难以区分 | |
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18
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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19
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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aberration
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| n.离开正路，脱离常规，色差 | |
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21
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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26
expended
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| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
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27
vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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yoke
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| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
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30
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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31
fascinations
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| n.魅力( fascination的名词复数 )；有魅力的东西；迷恋；陶醉 | |
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32
slur
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| v.含糊地说；诋毁；连唱；n.诋毁；含糊的发音 | |
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avow
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| v.承认，公开宣称 | |
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abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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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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38
writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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40
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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41
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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42
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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43
irresolution
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| n.不决断，优柔寡断，犹豫不定 | |
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cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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45
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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46
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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47
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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48
degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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49
scion
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| n.嫩芽，子孙 | |
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50
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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51
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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52
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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53
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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54
stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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55
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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56
stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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57
besetting
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| adj.不断攻击的v.困扰( beset的现在分词 )；不断围攻；镶；嵌 | |
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58
hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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59
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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60
parasite
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| n.寄生虫；寄生菌；食客 | |
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61
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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62
rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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63
expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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64
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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65
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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pretensions
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| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
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67
foretell
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| v.预言，预告，预示 | |
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68
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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69
irrelevant
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| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
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70
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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71
breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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72
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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73
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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74
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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75
blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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