What can science do in presence of the great mortal strife1 between Death and Life? At the supreme2 hour, when the invisible wrestlers are writhed3 together body to body and limb to limb, panting, each in turn overthrowing4 and overthrown5, what avails the healing art? One can but watch, and tremble, and listen!
At times the struggle seems suspended—a truce6 has sounded; Life has retired7 into her hold. She is resting; she is collecting the courage of despair. But the relentless8 enemy beats at the gates; he bursts in; then Life springs to the rescue, and again grapples with her adversary9. The strife is renewed with fresh fuel added to the fire of mortal energy as the fatal issue draws closer and nearer.
And the exhausted10 patient, himself the field of battle, weltering in the cold sweat of death, the eye set and the arm powerless, can do nothing for himself. His breathing, sometimes short, broken, and distressing12, sometimes long, deep, laboured, and heavy, indicates the varying phases of this dreadful struggle.
The bystanders watch each other's faces, and they think, "The day will come when we in our turns shall be the field of the same strife, and victorious13 Death will bear us away into the grave, his den14, as the spider carries away the fly." But the true life, the only life, the soul, spreading her immortal15 wings, will speed her flight to another world, with the exulting16 cry, "I have fought the good fight. I have finished my course. I have kept the faith!" And Death, disappointed of its prey17, will look up at the emancipated18 being, unable to follow, and holding in its clutches only a cold and decaying corpse19, soon to be a handful of dust. "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" O best and only consolation20, the hope and belief in the final triumph of justice, the certainty of immortal life through Jesus Christ the Saviour21! Cruel indeed is he who would rob man of the chief brightness and glory of life!
Towards midnight the Count of Nideck seemed almost gone; the agony of death was at hand; the broken, weakened pulse indicated the sinking of the vital powers; then, it might return to a more active state; but there seemed no hope.
My only duty left was to stay and see this unhappy man die.
I told Sperver to sit up, and close his master's eyes in death. The poor faithful fellow was in the utmost distress11; he reproached himself with his involuntary cry—"Count of Nideck—what are you doing?" and tore his hair in bitter repentance23.
I went away alone to Hugh Lupus's tower, having had scarcely any time to take food, but I did not feel the want of it.
There was a bright fire on the hearth24; I threw myself dressed upon the bed, and sleep soon came to relieve my weight of apprehension25—that heavy sleep broken by the consciousness that you may any minute be awoke by tears and lamentations.
I was sleeping thus, with my face turned towards the fire, and as it often happens, the flame fitfully rising, and falling threw a fluttering, flickering26 light like those of ruddy flapping wings against the walls, and wearied still more my dropping eyelids27.
Lost in a dreamy slumber28, I was half opening my eyes to see the cause of these alternate lights and shadows, but the strangest sight surprised me.
Close by the hearth, hardly revealed by the feeble light of a few dying embers, I recognised with dismay the dark profile of the Black Plague!
She sat upon a low stool, and was evidently warming herself.
At first I thought myself deceived by my senses, which would have been natural enough after the exciting scenes of the last few days; I raised myself upon my elbow, gazing with my eyes starting with fear and horror.
It was she indeed! I lay horrified29, for there she sat calm and immovable, with her hands clasped over her skinny knees, just as I had seen her in the snow, with her long scraggy neck outstretched, her hooked nose, her compressed lips.
How had the Black Pest got here? How had she found her way into this high tower crowning the dangerous precipices30? Everything that Sperver had told me of this mysterious being seemed to be coming true! And now the unaccountable behaviour of Lieverlé, growling32 so fiercely against the wall, seemed clear as the daylight. I huddled33 myself close up into the alcove34, hardly daring to breathe, and staring upon this motionless profile just as a mouse out of its hole fixes its paralysed stare upon the cat that is watching for it.
The old woman stirred no more than the rock-hewn pillars on each side of the hearthstone, and her lips were mumbling35 inarticulate sounds.
My heart was palpitating, my fears increased momentarily during the long silence, made more startling by the motionless supernatural figure that sat there before me.
This had lasted a quarter of an hour when, the fire catching36 a splinter of fir-wood, a flash of light broke out, the shaving twisted and flamed, and a few rays of light flared37 to the end of the room.
That luminous38 jet was sufficient to show me that the creature was clothed in an old dress of rich purple silk as stiff as cardboard, with a violet pattern; there was a massive bracelet39 upon her left wrist, and a gold arrow stuck through her thick grey hair twisted over the back of her head. It was like an apparition40 out of the ages past.
Still the Plague could have had no hostile intentions towards me, or she might easily have taken advantage of my sleep to have put them in execution.
That thought was beginning to give me some confidence, when suddenly she rose from her seat and with slow steps approached my bed, holding in her hand a torch which she had just lighted. I then observed that her eyes were fixed41 and haggard.
I made an effort to rise and cry aloud, but not a muscle of my body would obey my wishes, not a breath came to my lips; and the old woman, bending over me between the curtains, fixed her stony42 stare upon me with a strange unearthly smile. I wanted to call for help, I wanted to drive her from me, but her petrifying43 stare seemed to fascinate and paralyse me, just as that of the serpent fixes the little bird motionless before it.
During this speechless contemplation minutes seemed like hours. What was she about to do? I was ready for any event.
Suddenly she turned her head, went round upon her heel, listened, strode across the room, and opened the door.
At last I recovered a little courage; an effort of the will brought me to my feet as if I were acted on by a spring; I darted44 after her footsteps; she with one hand was holding her torch on high, and with the other kept the door open.
I was about to seize her by the hair, when at the end of the long gallery, under the Gothic archway of the castle leading to the ramparts, I saw—a tall figure.
It was the Count of Nideck!
The Count of Nideck, whom I had thought a dying man, clad in a huge wolf-skin thrown with its upper jaw45 projecting grimly over his eyes like a visor, the formidable claws hanging over each shoulder, and the tail dragging behind him along the flags.
He wore stout46 heavy shoes, a silver clasp gathered the wolf-skin round his neck, and his whole aspect, but for the ice-cold deathly expression of his face, proclaimed the man born for command—the master!
In the presence of such an imposing47 personage my ideas became vague and confused. Flight was no longer possible, yet I had the presence of mind to throw myself into the embrasure of the window.
The count entered my room with his eyes fixed on the old woman and his features unrelaxed. They spoke48 to one another in hoarse49 whispers, so low that I could not distinguish a word. But there was no mistaking their gestures. The woman was pointing to the bed.
They approached the fireplace on tiptoe. There in the dark shadow of the recess50 at its side the Black Plague, with a horrible smile, unrolled a large bag.
As soon as the count saw the bag he made a bound towards the bed and kneeled upon it with one knee; there was a shaking of the curtains, his body disappeared beneath their folds, and I could only see one leg still resting on the floor, and the wolf's tail undulating irregularly from side to side.
They seemed to be acting51 a murder in ghastly pantomime. No real scene, however frightful52, could have agitated53 me more than this mute representation of some horrible deed.
Then the old woman ran to his assistance, carrying the bag with her. Again the curtains shook and the shadows crossed the walls; but the most horrible of all was that I fancied I saw a pool of blood creeping across the floor and slowly reaching the hearth. But it was only the snow that had clung to the count's boots, and was melting in the heat.
I was still gazing upon this dark stream, feeling my dry tongue cleave54 to the roof of my mouth, when there was a great movement; the old woman and the count were stuffing the sheets of the bed into the sack, they were thrusting and stamping them in with just the same haste as a dog scratching at a hole, then the lord of Nideck flung this unshapely bundle over his shoulder and made for the door; a sheet was dragging behind him, and the old woman followed him torch in hand. They went across the court.
My knees were almost giving way under me; they knocked together for fear. I prayed for strength.
In a couple of minutes I was on their footsteps, dragged forward by a sudden irresistible55 impulse.
I crossed the court at a run, and was just going to enter the door of the tower when I perceived a deep but narrow pit at my feet, down which went a winding56 staircase, and there far below I could see the torch describing a spiral course around the stone rail like a little star; at last it was lost in the distance.
Now I also descended57 the first steps of this newly-discovered staircase, directing my course after this distant light; suddenly it vanished. The old woman and the count had reached the bottom of the precipice31. Supported by the stone rail I continued my descent, safe to be able to mount again if I found my further progress stopped.
Soon I came to the last step; I looked around me, and discovered on my left hand a narrow streak58 of moonlight shining under a low door, through the nettles59 and brambles; I kicked a way through these obstacles, clearing the snow away with my feet, and then found that I was at the very foot of the keep—Hugh's donjon tower.
Who would have supposed that such a hole would have led up into the castle? Who had shown it to the old woman? I did not stay to satisfy myself on these points.
The vast plain lay spread before me bathed in a light almost equal to that of day. On the right lay extended wide the dark line of the Black Forest with its craggy rocks, its gullies, its passes stretching away as far as the sight could reach.
The night air was keen and sharp, but perfectly60 calm, and I felt myself awakened61 to the highest degree, almost as if my senses were volatilised by the still and ice-cold air.
My first examination of the horizon was for the figures of the count and his strange companion. I soon distinguished62 their tall dark forms standing63 out sharply against the star-spangled purple heavens. I nearly overtook them at the bottom of the ravine.
The count was moving with deliberate steps, the imaginary winding-sheet dragging slowly after him. There was an automatic precision in the movements of both.
I kept six or eight yards behind them down the hollow road to the Altenberg, now in the shade, now in the full light, for the moon was shining with astonishing brilliancy. A few clouds floated idly across the zenith, seeming to want to clasp her in their long arms, but she ever eluded64 their grasp, and her rays, keen as a blade of steel, cut me to the marrow65 of my bones.
I could have wished to turn back, but some invisible power impelled66 me onwards to follow this funeral procession in pantomime. Even to this day I fancy still I can see the rough mountain path through the Black Forest, I can hear the crisp snow crackling under foot, and the dead leaves rustling67 in the light north wind; I can see myself following those two silent beings, but I cannot understand what mysterious power drew me in their footsteps.
At last we reach the forest, and advance amongst the tall bare-branched, beeches68; the dark shadows of their higher boughs69 intersect the lower branches, and fall broken upon the snow-encumbered road. Sometimes I fancy I can hear steps behind me; I turn sharply round, but can see no one.
We had just reached the long rocky ridge70 that forms the crest71 of the Altenberg; behind it flows the torrent72 of the Schnéeberg, but in winter no current is visible; scarcely does a mere73 thread of its blue waters trickle74 under the thick crust of ice. Here the deep solitude75 is broken by no murmuring brooks76, no warblings of birds, no thunder of the waterfall. In the vast unbroken solitudes77 the awful silence is terrible.
The Count of Nideck and the old woman found a gap in the face of the rock, up which they mounted straight with marvellous celerity, whilst I had to pull myself up by the help of the bushes.
Hardly had they reached the ridge of the crags, which came almost to a point, when I was within three yards of them, and I beheld78 beyond a dreadful precipice of which I could not see the bottom. At the left hung in the air like a vast sheet the fall of the Schnéeberg, a mass of ice. That resemblance to an immense wave taking the precipice at one bound, bearing trees on its breast, fringed with the bushes, and winding out the long ivy80 sprays, which exhibit in their delicate tracery the form of the rigid81 glassy billow; that mere semblance79 of movement amidst the stillness and immovableness of death, and the presence of those two speechless creatures pursuing their ghastly work with automatic precision, added to the terror with which I already trembled.
Nature herself seemed to shrink with horror.
The count had laid down his burden; the old woman and he took it up together, swung it for a moment over the edge of the precipice, then the long shroud82 floated over the abyss, and the imaginary murderers in silence bent83 forward to see it fall.
That long white sheet floating in the air is still present before my eyes. It descends84, it falls like a wild swan shot in the clouds, spreading its wide wings, the long neck thrown back, whirling down to earth to die.
The white burden disappeared in the dark depths of the precipice.
At last the cloud which I had long seen threatening to cover the moon's bright disc veiled her in its steel-blue folds, and her rays ceased to shine.
The old woman, holding the count by the hand and dragging him forward with hurried steps, came for a moment into view.
The cloud had overshadowed the moon, and I could not move out of their way without danger of falling over the precipice.
After a few minutes, during which I lay as close as I could, there was a rift85 in the cloud. I looked out again. I stood alone on the point of the peak with the snow up to my knees.
Full of horror and apprehension, I descended from my perilous86 position, and ran to the castle in as much consternation87 as if I had been guilty of some great crime.
As for the lord of Nideck and his companion, I lost sight of them.
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收听单词发音
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1
strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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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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overthrowing
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| v.打倒，推翻( overthrow的现在分词 )；使终止 | |
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overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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truce
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| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
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7
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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8
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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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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12
distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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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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exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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emancipated
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| adj.被解放的，不受约束的v.解放某人（尤指摆脱政治、法律或社会的束缚）( emancipate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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28
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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precipices
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| n.悬崖，峭壁( precipice的名词复数 ) | |
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precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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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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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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petrifying
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| v.吓呆，使麻木( petrify的现在分词 )；使吓呆，使惊呆；僵化 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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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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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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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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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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cleave
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| v．(clave；cleaved)粘着，粘住；坚持；依恋 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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57
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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59
nettles
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| n.荨麻( nettle的名词复数 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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61
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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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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eluded
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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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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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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74
trickle
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| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
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75
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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76
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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77
solitudes
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| n.独居( solitude的名词复数 )；孤独；荒僻的地方；人迹罕至的地方 | |
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78
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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79
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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80
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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81
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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82
shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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83
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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84
descends
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| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
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85
rift
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| n.裂口，隙缝，切口；v.裂开，割开，渗入 | |
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86
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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87
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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