If Isola had any disinclination to visit Captain Hulbert's yacht, her headache only served to defer2 the evil day, for after that first tea-drinking came other invitations and other arrangements, fishing-parties, luncheons4 off Mevagissey, entertainments in which Isola must needs share when she saw her husband and his sister bent5 upon the enjoyment6 of the hour, delighted with the Vendetta7 and her warm-hearted skipper.
They were not John Hulbert's only friends in the neighbourhood. Everybody seemed glad to welcome the rover to his native village. Almost everybody had known him in his boyhood; and there was a general consensus8 of opinion that he was a much better fellow than his brother. He was less courted; but he was better liked. There had been a touch of cynicism about Lostwithiel which frightened matter-of-fact country people.
[Pg 160]
"One could never feel sure he wasn't laughing in his sleeve at our rustic9 ignorance," said Mrs. Baynham. "I am more at my ease with Captain Hulbert, and my husband and he were great friends when he was a boy. They used to go fishing together, when Baynham's practice wasn't as good as it is now."
So the brief Indian summer passed in pleasant idlesse on a tranquil10 sea. The equinoctial gales11 had not begun to rage yet. There was a lull12 before the coming of the great winds which were to blow good ships on shore, and startle sleepers13 in the dead of night. All now was fair and placid—sunlit waters, golden evenings. They spent one bright, balmy day off Mevagissey, a day which was like a long dream to Isola, as she sat on deck in a low folding-chair, wrapped in a great feathery rug from the South Sea Islands, with her languid head reclining against a plush-covered cushion, one of the many effeminate luxuries which abounded14 in the cabins below. Everybody else was intent upon the nets. Everybody else was full of interest and movement and expectation; but she sat apart from all, with her ivory knitting-needles lying idle in her lap, amidst a soft mass of white wool, which her industry was to convert into a garment for the baby.
Allegra was enraptured15 with the yacht. She would fain have taken Isola down to the cabins, to explore their wonders of luxury and contrivance, so much comfort and elegance16 in so restricted an area; but Isola refused to leave the deck.
"I hate all cabins," she said. "They are always suffocatingly17 hot."
So Mrs. Baynham went below with Allegra, and they two explored the two principal cabins with wondering admiration18, and even peeped into the cook's galley19, and the odd little places where steward20 and sailors contrived21 to bestow22 themselves.
The chief cabin, saloon, or whatever one liked to call it, was as daintily decorated as a lady's boudoir. There were nests of richly bound books, Oriental bronzes, and all kinds[Pg 161] of continental23 pottery24, Japanese and Indian embroideries25, Venetian mirrors, quaint26 little carved cupboards for wine or cigars. Every corner and cranny was utilized27.
"What a delicious drawing-room!" cried Allegra. "I could live here all my life. Fancy, how delightful28! A floating life. No such thing as satiety29. One might open one's eyes every morning on a fresh coast, glorified30, as one sees it across the bright, blue water. To explore the Mediterranean31, for instance, floating from city to city—the cities of the past, the cities of the Gospel, the shores that were trodden by the feet of St. Paul and his companions—the cities of the Christian32 saints and martyrs33, the island birthplaces of Greek gods and heroes. Think, Mrs. Baynham! A yacht like this is a master-key to open all the gateways34 of the world."
"I would rather have my own cosy35 little cottage on terra firma," answered the doctor's wife in a matter-of-fact mood; but this speech of Allegra's set the good lady pondering upon the possibility of John Hulbert falling in love with this nice, clever girl, and making her mistress of his brother's yacht.
Her friendly fancy depicted36 the village wedding, and those two going forth37 over the great waters to spend their honeymoon38 amidst the wonder-world of the Mediterranean, which the banker's daughter knew only in her Atlas39.
"He can't be rich," she thought, "but he must have a comfortable income. I know his mother had money. And Allegra can earn a good deal by her painting. She wouldn't be an expensive wife. We ought all to do our best to bring it about. A girl has so few chances in such a place as Trelasco. She might almost as well be in a convent."
Mrs. Baynham was at heart a matchmaker, like most motherly women whom fate has left childless. She was very fond of Allegra, who was so much more companionable than Isola, so much more responsive to kindness and affection. As she sat on deck in the westering sunlight, somewhat comatose41 after a copious42 luncheon3, Mrs. Baynham's[Pg 162] idea of helping44 Allegra took the form of a dinner-party which she had long been meditating45, her modest return for numerous dinners which she had eaten at Glenaveril and at the Angler's Nest. She considered that three or four times a year it behoved her to make a serious effort in the way of hospitality—a substantial and elaborate dinner, in which no good things in season should be spared, and which should be served with all due ceremony. The time was at hand when such a dinner would in a manner fall due; and she determined46 to hasten the date with a view to Allegra's interests.
"Captain Hulbert is sure to be off again before long," she told herself, "so every evening they can spend together is of importance. I'm sure he is inclined to fall in love with her already."
There was not much doubt about his feelings as he stood by Allegra in the stern, directing the movements of her bare active hands while she hauled in the net; not much doubt that he was as deep in love as a man well can be after a fortnight's acquaintance. He did not make any secret of his bondage47, but let his eyes tell all the world that this girl was for him "the world's one woman."
The invitation from Mrs. Baynham was delivered by post next morning, as ceremonious a card as if the place were Mayfair, and the inviter and invitees had not met since last season. A copper-plate card, with name and address filled in by the lady's pen, a detail which distinguished48 her modest invitation from the Glenaveril cards, of which there were a variety, for at homes, tennis, dinner, luncheon, to accept, and to decline. A fortnight's notice marked the dignity of the occasion—the hour the orthodox quarter to eight.
"We can't refuse, Isola," said Disney, when his wife handed him the card, "although my past experience assures me that the evening will be a trifle heavy. Why will people in small houses insist upon giving dinner-parties, instead of having their friends in instalments? When we go to dine with the Baynhams we go for love of them, not the people[Pg 163] they bring together; and yet they insist upon seating twelve in a room that will just comfortably hold eight. It is all vanity and vexation of spirit."
"But Mrs. Baynham is so happy when she is giving a real dinner-party. I don't think we can refuse, can we, Allegra?" asked Isola.
"Mrs. Baynham is a darling, and I wouldn't vex49 her for worlds," replied her sister-in law. "And in a place like this one can't pretend a prior engagement, unless it were in the moon."
The invitation was accepted forthwith, and when Captain Hulbert dropped in at teatime it was discovered that he, too, had been asked, and that he meant to accept, if his friends at the Angler's Nest were to be there.
A thunderbolt fell upon the little village on the following Sunday. When the old men and women, creeping to church a little in advance of younger legs, came to the church-path, they found the gate locked against them, locked and barricaded50 with bars which looked as if they were meant to last till the final cataclysm51. The poor old creatures looked up wonderingly at a newly-painted board, on which the more intelligent among them spelt out the following legend—
"This wood is the private property of J. Vansittart Crowther, Esq. Trespassers will be prosecuted52."
Martin Disney and his wife and sister came up when a little crowd of men, women, and children, numbering about thirty, had assembled round the gate, all in their Sunday best.
"What's the meaning of this?" asked Disney.
"Ah, colonel, that's what we all want to know," replied old Manley, the village carpenter, a bent and venerable figure, long past work. "I'm over eighty, but I never remember that gate being locked as long as I have lived at Trelasco, and that's all my life, colonel. There's always been a right of way through that wood."
"And there always shall be," answered Martin Disney. "We won't take any violent measures to-day, my friends—[Pg 164]first because it is Sunday, and next because one should always try fair means before one tries foul53. I shall write to Mr. Crowther to-morrow, asking him civilly to open that gate. If he refuses, I'll have it opened for him, and I'll take the consequences of the act. Now, my good friends, you'd better go to church by the road. You'll get there after the service has begun. Wait till the congregation are standing54 up, and then go into church all together, so that everybody may understand why and by whose fault it is that you are late."
The appearance of this large contingent55 after the first lesson created considerable surprise, and much turning of heads and rustling56 of bonnet-strings in the echoing old stone church. Mr. Crowther stood in his pew of state on one side of the chancel, and felt that the war had begun. Everybody was against him in the matter, he knew; but he wanted to demonstrate the rich man's right to do what he liked with the things which he had bought. The wood was his, and he did not mean to let the whole parish tramp across it.
He received a stiffly polite letter from Colonel Disney, requesting him to re-open the church-path without loss of time, and informing him of the great inconvenience caused to the older and weaker members of the congregation by the illegal closing of the path during church hours.
Mr. Crowther sent his reply by the colonel's messenger. He asserted his right to shut up the wood which formed a part of his estate, and positively57 refused to re-open the gate at either end of the footpath58 in question.
Captain Hulbert dropped in at his usual hour, eager to know the progress of the fight. Fight there must be, he was assured, having seen something of Mr. Crowther's bulldog temper. Then, in the drawing-room of the Angler's Nest, there was hatched a terrible plot—a Catiline conspiracy59 in a tea-cup—Allegra listening and applauding while the two men plotted.
That night, when the village was hushed in sleep, a boatful of sailors landed at the little hard near the railway[Pg 165] station at Fowey, and half a dozen stalwart blue-jackets might have been seen tramping along the old railway track to Trelasco, one carrying a crowbar, another a carpenter's basket. And under the autumn stars that night in the woods of Glenaveril, while Vansittart Crowther slept the sleep of the just man who payeth his twenty shillings in the pound, there rose the sound of a sea-song and the cheery chorus of the sailors, with a rhythmic60 accompaniment of hammering; and lo, when the October morning visited those yellowing woods, and when Mr. Crowther's gamekeeper went on his morning round, the gate at either end of the church path was wrenched61 off its hinges, and was lying on the ground. Staple62 and bolt, padlock and iron hinges, were lying among the dewy dock-leaves and the yellowing fern; and there was free passage between the village of Trelasco and the House of God.
Vansittart Crowther went to Plymouth by the first train that could convey him, and there consulted the lawyer most in renown63 among the citizens; and that gentleman, after due thought and consideration, informed him that the closing of such an old-established right of way as that of the church-path was more than any landowner durst attempt. Whatever omission64 there might be in the title-deeds, he had bought the estate subject to that old right of way, which had been enjoyed by the parish from time immemorial. He could no more shut it off than he could wall out the sky.
"But I can punish the person who pulled the locks off my gates, I conclude?" said Mr. Crowther, swelling65 with indignation.
"That, of course, is a distinct outrage66, for which you may obtain redress67, if you can find out who did it."
"There can be no difficulty about that. The act must have been instigated68 by the writer of that impertinent letter."
He pointed69 to Martin Disney's letter, lying open on the solicitor's table.
"Very probably. But you will have to be sure of proving his share in the act if you mean to take proceedings70 against him."
Vansittart Crowther was furious. How was he to bring the responsibility of this outrage home to anybody, when the deed had been done in the dead of night, and no mortal eye had seen the depredators at their felonious work? His locks and bolts and hinges, the best of their kind that Sheffield could supply, had been mocked at and made as naught71; and all his dumb dogs of serving men and women had been lying in their too comfortable beds, and had heard never a sound of hammer clinking or crowbar striking on iron. There had not been so much as a kitchen-maid afflicted72 with the tooth-ache, and lying wakeful, to hear the far-off noise of that villainous deed.
Mr. Crowther sent for the police authorities of Fowey, and set his wrongs before them.
"I will give fifty pounds reward to the man who will get me credible73 evidence as to the person who planned that outrage," he said. And next day there were bills pasted against divers74 doors at Fowey and Trelasco, against the Mechanics' Institute, and against that curious old oaken door of a medi?val building opposite the club, which may once have been a donjon, and in sundry75 other conspicuous76 places, beginning with "Whereas," and ending with Vansittart Crowther's signature.
Nothing came of this splendid offer, though there were plenty of people in the district to whom fifty pounds would have seemed a fortune. Whether no one had seen the crew of the Vendetta landing or re-embarking in the night-time, or whether some wakeful eyes had seen, whose owners would not betray the doers of a deed done in a good cause, still remains77 unknown. Captain Hulbert was enchanted78 at the success of the conspiracy, and went to church next Sunday by the now notorious footpath, along which an unusual procession of villagers came streaming in the crisp, clear air, proud to assert a right that had been so boldly maintained by their unnamed but not unknown champion. Every one felt very sure that the flinging open of the gates had been somehow brought about by Martin Disney—Martin, whose[Pg 167] grandfather they could some of them remember, when he came home after the long war with the French, and took up his abode79 in an old house among the hills, and married a fair young wife. That had happened sixty-five years ago; but there were those in the village who could remember handsome Major Disney, with only one arm, and a face bronzed by the sun that shines on the banks of the Douro.
Captain Hulbert went by the church-path that morning, although it took him ever so far out of his way. He wanted to walk to church with the Disney family, in order to talk over their victory; and the Disneys seemed to-day to resolve themselves into one; and that one was Allegra Leland; for she and the captain walked ahead and discoursed80 gaily81, perhaps in too exultant82 and worldly a vein83 for pious43 church people; but at worst their exultation84 was in a good cause; for the horn of the lowly was exalted85, and the pride of the rich man was brought low.
"Do you think he will be at church?" asked Allegra, the pronoun standing for Mr. Crowther.
"Of course he will. He must brazen86 out the position. He will be there, no doubt, gnashing his teeth behind his prayer-book. If angry looks could kill, you and I would be as dead as Ananias and Sapphira before the end of the service."
"Poor, silly man, why did he want to shut up the footpath?" speculated Allegra.
"Only to show his importance—to make himself felt in the neighbourhood. They wouldn't have him for their representative, in spite of his money, and his grand Church and State principles, and all the Primrose87 Leaguing of his womankind; and so he turns savage88 and wants to make himself disagreeable."
Yes, it was true that Mr. Crowther had stood for Lostwithiel on three separate occasions, and with equal unsuccess on each. This may have embittered89 him. If the anger of slighted beauty is a furious thing, no less bitter is the sting of wounded vanity in the rejected candidate.
And then the parson and the doctor had told Mr. Crowther[Pg 168] that he could not close his wood against the public; an all-sufficient reason why he should make the attempt.
The Crowther family were in the chancel pew in full force. Allegra thought she detected signs of distress90 in Mrs. Crowther's countenance91; but the daughters went through the service with their noses in the air, and were more than usually vivacious92 and conversational93 among their friends between the church-porch and the landau which bore them away to Glenaveril, and the sumptuous94 boredom95 of Sunday luncheon.
Merrily went the short autumn days on board the Vendetta, and merrily went the tea-drinkings and talk in the drawing-room at the Angler's Nest. Mrs. Disney did not often join the yachting expeditions east or west. The sea made her head ache, she told them; but Mrs. Baynham, who loved pleasure of any kind, was always ready to chaperon Allegra, and Isola welcomed the wanderers to the cheery fireside and the friendly five-o'clock tea. She spent her own days mostly in the society of her baby, with whom she seemed to hold a kind of mysterious commune. She had no idea of amusing him as the nurse had, none of those conventional tricks and movements which are offered to generation after generation of infants; but the child would lie in her lap for hours while she sang to him in her low sweet voice the songs she had learnt in her early girlhood—songs that the peasants of Brittany sing, some of them—and others of a somewhat loftier strain. She would sing him little bits of Mozart, those immortal96 melodies, of inexhaustible sweetness and ineffable97 pathos98, music mixed with smiles and tears, melody interwoven with such melting tenderness as thrills the coldest heart. There was a gentle happiness in these solitary99 hours which the young mother spent with her child; and Martin Disney, coming into the room unawares, sometimes stood for a minute or so in loving contemplation of that domestic picture—the young fair face with its long oval form and delicate features; the pensive40 gravity of the large violet eyes, and mournful droop100 of the thin, flower-like lips. He had[Pg 169] seen such a face on canvas, the ideal Madonna of Raffaelle, with just that subdued101 blonde colouring and pale auburn hair, and just that thoughtful expression.
His heart swelled102 with gladness and gratitude103 as he contemplated104 mother and son. Yes, the child had made all things well in his home.
Those aching doubts which he felt as he watched beside his wife's sick-bed had vanished like clouds before the sun. Who could doubt the happiness of the mother, absorbed in her firstborn? Who could doubt the love of the wife, looking up at her husband with such tender welcome as he bent over her shoulder to take the little curled-up fist in his, unfold the crumpled105 fingers, and press them to his lips?
"You are very fond of him, Martin?" she asked, with an often repeated inquiry106, knowing what the answer would be.
"Fond of him! After you he is all that I have in this world—except Allegra, who will float away into a world of her own by-and-by, and belong to us no more."
"After me! He ought to be first, Martin—your son, your heir, your second self in the days to come. He ought to have the first place in your heart, Martin, for he is your future."
"No one is first but you."
He dropped the baby hand, and took his wife's head between his hands, and lifted the fair young forehead, looking down at it fondly before he stooped to kiss the soft clustering hair and pencilled brows and ivory temples, with more than a lover's passion.
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1
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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defer
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| vt.推迟，拖延；vi.(to)遵从，听从，服从 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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luncheons
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| n.午餐，午宴( luncheon的名词复数 ) | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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vendetta
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| n.世仇，宿怨 | |
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consensus
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| n.(意见等的)一致，一致同意，共识 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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gales
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| 龙猫 | |
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lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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sleepers
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| n.卧铺（通常以复数形式出现）；卧车( sleeper的名词复数 )；轨枕；睡觉（呈某种状态）的人；小耳环 | |
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abounded
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| v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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enraptured
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| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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suffocatingly
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| 令人窒息地 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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pottery
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| n.陶器，陶器场 | |
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embroideries
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| 刺绣( embroidery的名词复数 )； 刺绣品； 刺绣法 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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utilized
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| v.利用，使用( utilize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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satiety
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| n.饱和；(市场的)充分供应 | |
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glorified
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| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
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Mediterranean
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| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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gateways
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| n.网关( gateway的名词复数 )；门径；方法；大门口 | |
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cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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honeymoon
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| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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atlas
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| n.地图册，图表集 | |
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pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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comatose
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| adj.昏睡的，昏迷不醒的 | |
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copious
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| adj.丰富的，大量的 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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vex
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| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
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barricaded
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| 设路障于，以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 )； 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
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51
cataclysm
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| n.洪水，剧变，大灾难 | |
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prosecuted
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| a.被起诉的 | |
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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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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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contingent
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| adj.视条件而定的；n.一组，代表团，分遣队 | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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staple
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| n.主要产物，常用品，主要要素，原料，订书钉，钩环；adj.主要的，重要的；vt.分类 | |
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renown
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| n.声誉，名望 | |
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omission
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| n.省略，删节；遗漏或省略的事物，冗长 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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redress
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| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
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instigated
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| v.使（某事物）开始或发生，鼓动( instigate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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credible
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| adj.可信任的，可靠的 | |
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divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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discoursed
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| 演说（discourse的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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83
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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primrose
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| n.樱草，最佳部分， | |
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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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embittered
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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100
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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101
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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103
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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104
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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105
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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