As poor, dazed, homeless Alida passed out into the street after the revelation that she was not a wife and never had been, she heard a voice say, "Well, Hanner wasn't long in bouncing the woman. I guess we'd better go up now. Ferguson will need a lesson that he won't soon forget."
The speaker of these words was Mrs. Ferguson's brother, William Hackman, and his companion was a detective. The wife had laid her still sleeping child down on the lounge and was coolly completing Alida's preparations for dinner. Her husband had sunk back into a chair and again buried his face in his hands. He looked up with startled, bloodshot eyes as his brother-in-law and the stranger entered, and then resumed his former attitude.
Mrs. Ferguson briefly1 related what had happened, and then said, "Take chairs and draw up."
"I don't want any dinner," muttered the husband.
Mr. William Hackman now gave way to his irritation2. Turning to his brother, he relieved his mind as follows: "See here, Hank Ferguson, if you hadn't the best wife in the land, this gentleman would now be giving you a promenade3 to jail. I've left my work for weeks, and spent a sight of money to see that my sister got her rights, and, by thunder! she's going to have 'em. We've agreed to give you a chance to brace4 up and be a man. If we find out there isn't any man in you, then you go to prison and hard labor5 to the full extent of the law. We've fixed6 things so you can't play any more tricks. This man is a private detective. As long as you do the square thing by your wife and child, you'll be let alone. If you try to sneak7 off, you'll be nabbed. Now, if you aint a scamp down to your heel-taps, get up out of that chair like a man, treat your wife as she deserves for letting you off so easy, and don't make her change her mind by acting8 as if you, and not her, was the wronged person."
At heart Ferguson was a weak, cowardly, selfish creature, whose chief aim in life was to have things to suit himself. When they ceased to be agreeable, he was ready for a change, without much regard for the means to his ends. He had always foreseen the possibility of the event which had now taken place, but, like all self-indulgent natures, had hoped that he might escape detection.
Alida, moreover, had won a far stronger hold upon him than he had once imagined possible. He was terribly mortified9 and cast down by the result of his experiment, as he regarded it. But the thought of a prison and hard labor speedily drew his mind away from this aspect of the affair. He had been fairly caught, his lark10 was over, and he soon resolved that the easiest and safest way out of the scrape was the best way. He therefore raised his head and came forward with a penitent11 air as he said: "It's natural I should be overwhelmed with shame at the position in which I find myself. But I see the truth of your words, and I'll try to make it all right as far as I can. I'll go back with you and Hannah to my old home. I've got money in the bank, I'll sell out everything here, and I'll pay you, William, as far as I can, what you've spent. Hannah is mighty12 good to let me off so easy, and she won't be sorry. This man is witness to what I say," and the detective nodded.
"Why, Ferguson," said Mr. Hackman effusively13, "now you're talking like a man. Come and kiss him, Hannah, and make it all up."
"That's the way with you men," said the woman bitterly. "These things count for little. Henry Ferguson must prove he's honest in what he says by deeds, not words. I'll do as I've said if he acts square, and that's enough to start with."
"All right," said Ferguson, glad enough to escape the caress14. "I'll do as I say."
He did do all he promised, and very promptly15, too. He was not capable of believing that a woman wronged as Alida had been would not prosecute16 him, and he was eager to escape to another state, and, in a certain measure, again to hide his identity under his own actual name.
Meanwhile, how fared the poor creature who had fled, driven forth17 by her first wild impulse to escape from a false and terrible position? With every step she took down the dimly lighted street, the abyss into which she had fallen seemed to grow deeper and darker. She was overwhelmed with the magnitude of her misfortune. She shunned18 the illumined thoroughfares with a half-crazed sense that every finger would be pointed19 at her. Her final words, spoken to Ferguson, were the last clear promptings of her womanly nature. After that, everything grew confused, except the impression of remediless disaster and shame. She was incapable21 of forming any correct judgment22 concerning her position. The thought of her pastor23 filled her with horror. He, she thought, would take the same view which the woman had so brutally24 expressed--that in her eagerness to be married, she had brought to the parsonage an unknown man and had involved a clergyman in her own scandalous record.--It would all be in the papers, and her pastor's name mixed up in the affair. She would rather die than subject him to such an ordeal25. Long after, when he learned the facts in the case, he looked at her very sadly as he asked: "Didn't you know me better than that? Had I so failed in my preaching that you couldn't come straight to me?"
She wondered afterward26 that she had not done this, but she was too morbid27, too close upon absolute insanity28, to do what was wise and safe. She simply yielded to the wild impulse to escape, to cower29, to hide from every human eye, hastening through the darkest, obscurest streets, not caring where. In the confusion of her mind she would retrace30 her steps, and soon was utterly31 lost, wandering she knew not whither. As it grew late, casual passers-by looked after her curiously32, rough men spoke20 to her, and others jeered33. She only hastened on, driven by her desperate trouble like the wild, ragged34 clouds that were flying across the stormy March sky.
At last a policeman said gruffly, "You've passed me twice. You can't be roaming the streets at this time of night. Why don't you go home?"
Standing35 before him and wringing36 her hands, she moaned, "I have no home."
"Where did you come from?"
"Oh, I can't tell you! Take me to any place where a woman will be safe."
"I can't take you to any place now but the station house."
"But can I be alone there? I won't be put with anybody?"
"No, no; of course not! You'll be better off there. Come along. 'Taint37 far."
She walked beside him without a word.
"You'd better tell me something of your story. Perhaps I can do more for you in the morning."
"I can't. I'm a stranger. I haven't any friends in town."
"Well, well, the sergeant38 will see what can be done in the morning. You've been up to some foolishness, I suppose, and you'd better tell the whole story to the sergeant."
She soon entered the station house and was locked up in a narrow cell. She heard the grating of the key in the lock with a sense of relief, feeling that she had at least found a temporary place of refuge and security. A hard board was the only couch it possessed39, but the thought of sleep did not enter her mind. Sitting down, she buried her face in her hands and rocked back and forth in agony and distraction40 until day dawned. At last, someone--she felt she could not raise her eyes to his face--brought her some breakfast and coffee. She drank the latter, but left the food untasted. Finally, she was led to the sergeant's private room and told that she must give an account of herself. "If you can't or won't tell a clear story," the officer threatened, "you'll have to go before the justice in open court, and he may commit you to prison. If you'll tell the truth now, it may be that I can discharge you. You had no business to be wandering about the streets like a vagrant41 or worse; but if you were a stranger or lost and hadn't sense enough to go where you'd be cared for, I can let you go."
"Oh!" said Alida, again wringing her hands and looking at the officer with eyes so full of misery42 and fear that he began to soften43, "I don't know where to go."
"Haven't you a friend or acquaintance in town?"
"Not one that I can go to!"
"Why don't you tell me your story? Then I'll know what to do, and perhaps can help you. You don't look like a depraved woman."
"I'm not. God knows I'm not!"
"Well, my poor woman, I've got to act in view of what I know, not what God knows."
"If I tell my story, will I have to give names?"
"No, not necessarily. It would be best, though."
"I can't do that, but I'll tell you the truth. I will swear it on the Bible I married someone. A good minister married us. The man deceived me. He was already married, and last night his wife came to my happy home and proved before the man whom I thought my husband that I was no wife at all. He couldn't, didn't deny it. Oh! Oh! Oh!" And she again rocked back and forth in uncontrollable anguish44. "That's all," she added brokenly. "I had no right to be near him or her any longer, and I rushed out. I don't remember much more. My brain seemed on fire. I just walked and walked till I was brought here."
"Well, well!" said the sergeant sympathetically, "you have been treated badly, outrageously45; but you are not to blame unless you married the man hastily and foolishly."
"That's what everyone will think, but it don't seem to me that I did. It's a long story, and I can't tell it."
"But you ought to tell it, my poor woman. You ought to sue the man for damages and send him to State prison."
"No, no!" cried Alida passionately46. "I don't want to see him again, and I won't go to a court before people unless I am dragged there."
The sergeant looked up at the policeman who had arrested her and said, "This story is not contrary to anything you saw?"
"No, sir; she was wandering about and seemed half out of her mind."
"Well, then, I can let you go."
"But I don't know where to go," she replied, looking at him with hunted, hollow eyes. "I feel as if I were going to be sick. Please don't turn me into the streets. I'd rather go back to the cell--"
"That won't answer. There's no place that I can send you to except the poorhouse. Haven't you any money?"
"No, sir. I just rushed away and left everything when I learned the truth."
"Tom Watterly's hotel is the only place for her," said the policeman with a nod.
"Oh, I can't go to a hotel."
"He means the almshouse," explained the sergeant. "What is your name?"
"Alida--that's all now. Yes, I'm a pauper47 and I can't work just yet. I'll be safe there, won't I?"
"Certainly, safe as in your mother's house."
"Oh, mother, mother; thank God, you are dead!"
"Well, I AM sorry for you," said the sergeant kindly48. "'Taint often we have so sad a case as yours. If you say so, I'll send for Tom Watterly, and he and his wife will take charge of you. After a few days, your mind will get quieter and clearer, and then you'll prosecute the man who wronged you."
"I'll go to the poorhouse until I can do better," she replied wearily. "Now, if you please, I'll return to my cell where I can be alone."
"Oh, we can give you a better room than that," said the sergeant. "Show her into the waiting room, Tim. If you prosecute, we can help you with our testimony49. Goodbye, and may you have better days!"
Watterly was telegraphed to come down with a conveyance50 for the almshouse was in a suburb. In due time he appeared, and was briefly told Alida's story. He swore a little at the "mean cuss," the author of all the trouble, and then took the stricken woman to what all his acquaintances facetiously51 termed his "hotel."
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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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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sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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mortified
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| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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effusively
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| adv.变溢地，热情洋溢地 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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prosecute
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| vt.告发；进行；vi.告发，起诉，作检察官 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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shunned
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| v.避开，回避，避免( shun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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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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pastor
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| n.牧师，牧人 | |
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brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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29
cower
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| v.畏缩，退缩，抖缩 | |
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30
retrace
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| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
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31
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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33
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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34
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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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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wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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vagrant
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| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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43
soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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44
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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45
outrageously
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| 凶残地； 肆无忌惮地； 令人不能容忍地； 不寻常地 | |
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46
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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47
pauper
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| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
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48
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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49
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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50
conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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51
facetiously
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| adv.爱开玩笑地；滑稽地，爱开玩笑地 | |
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