Lister had disappeared from the neighbourhood, and Bella had neither seen him again nor had she heard from him. Considering what had taken place at their last interview, she was inclined to think that Cyril had passed out of her life for ever. But something told her that in spite of her unjust accusations6 he still loved her, and would return. Meantime, there was nothing for it but to wait in patience, and to busy herself with her ordinary pursuits. These, however, had lost their savour for the girl, since the whole of her mind was filled with the image of the man she loved.
Pence did not fulfil his threat of informing the police at the end of three days. Bella waited in dread7 for the arrival of Inspector8 Inglis to ask her questions concerning Lister, but the officer never appeared, and as the days glided9 by she began to think that Silas would say nothing. With her aunt she went on Sunday to the Little Bethel, and heard him preach, but he did not seek a private interview with her. Even when he delivered his sermons he sedulously10 avoided her eye, so she deemed that he was ashamed of the wild way in which he had talked. What struck her most about the young man was his wan11 looks. He seemed to be thinner than ever, and his cheeks had a more hectic12 flush, while his eyes glittered feverishly13, as though he were consumed with an inward fire. But his discourses14 became more and more powerful and were greatly admired by his congregation, who liked melodramatic religion. Mrs. Coppersley was especially loud in her expression of approval.
"What a gift," she said to Bella, when they returned home on the second Sunday through the rapidly-yellowing corn-fields. "He spares no one."
"And that is just what I like least about his sermons," retorted the girl. "As a Christian15 he should be more merciful."
"I know what Christ preached," replied Bella quietly; "and Mr. Pence has not the spirit of His preaching."
"In what way, pray?"
"Mr. Pence does not do as he would be done by. I wonder how he would like to suffer the condemnation17 which he measures out so freely to other people."
"Silas Pence is a good man, and no condemnation is possible where he is concerned," cried Mrs. Coppersley fervently18, and bounced into the house.
"In that case he should make allowance for those who are not good."
"Not at all," said the elder woman, stating her views uncompromisingly. "The good shall go to heaven, and the wicked to hell: that's Scripture20."
"Bella, you are irreligious," interrupted the lady, removing her hat and placing it on the kitchen-table. "I won't have freethinkers in my house."
Bella raised her finely-marked eye-brows. "Your house?"
"Yes," almost shouted Mrs. Coppersley violently, for she felt somewhat nervous as to what she was about to say, "my house. I didn't tell you before, as I have a kind heart, but it is time we understood one another. To-night I shall explain myself, so that you may understand your position."
"You shall explain yourself now," said Bella, pale but determined22.
"I have no time," said her aunt brusquely; "Henry is coming to dinner."
"I don't care if Mr. Vand is coming to dinner twenty times over," said Bella, her eyes growing hard with anger. "You have said so much that you must say all, Aunt Rosamund."
"I shall act exactly as I please, and it is my pleasure that you would explain what you mean."
"I have to lay the cloth and see to the dinner. You know that Jane never can cook to Henry's liking24. I daresay the meat is burnt and the——" Mrs. Coppersley was about to pass into the scullery where the one small servant, over whom she tyrannised, slaved at the mid-day meal, when Bella caught her by the wrist. "How dare you, Bella?" cried the stout25 woman.
"Come into the drawing-room, out of Jane's hearing," whispered Bella fiercely. "I shall not wait another minute for an explanation. This house is either mine or yours."
"Very well," cried Mrs. Coppersley, bouncing towards the kitchen door, "If you will have it, you shall have it. I have tried to spare you, but——"
"Go on to the drawing-room, please," interrupted Bella imperiously, as she saw the small servant peeping round the corner; "there is no need for us to discuss private matters in public."
"The whole parish shall soon know what I am about to say," snapped Mrs. Coppersley, and rolled towards the drawing-room.
"Rolled" is precisely26 the word to use in connection with Mrs. Coppersley's way of walking, for she was an extremely stout, well-fed woman, large-limbed and clumsy. Her round, chubby27 face was rosy28 and her eyes were as black as her hair. She did not look uncomely, but there was something coarse and plebeian29 in her appearance. Although she was in mourning for her late brother she could not altogether restrain her flamboyant30 taste, and therefore wore a red feather in the hat she had left in the kitchen, and yellow gloves, which she was now impatiently removing.
Outside it was extremely warm and brilliant with sunshine, but in the vast drawing-room the air was pleasantly cool and agreeable. The blinds being blue, only a faint light came through them since they were down, and the cerulean atmosphere was almost religious in its feeling. Bella, ever sensitive to the unseen, in spite of her ignorance of psychic31 phenomenon felt the grave influence, but her aunt, being of a coarser fibre, bounced red-faced and hot into the room, openly cross at having been summoned to what was likely to prove a disagreeable interview.
"Henry will be here shortly," she said pettishly32, "and he doesn't like to be kept waiting for his meals."
"On this occasion he must wait," said Bella dryly, "it will do him good."
"Your speech about his impatience34 for dinner sounds like it. However, we need converse35 only for a few minutes. I understood you to say that this house is yours, Aunt Rosamund."
Mrs. Coppersley flopped36 down into one of the emerald arm-chairs and placed her pudgy hands on her stout knees. "It is," she said, glancing round the vari-coloured room with great pride. "The house is mine and the farm is mine, and Jabez's income of five hundred a year, well invested, is mine."
Bella grew pale. Mrs. Coppersley spoke37 with such conviction that she believed her to be telling the truth. "And what is left to me?" she demanded in a low tone, for the shock took away her breath.
"Your aunt's love," said Mrs. Coppersley, in a matter-of-fact way. "Jabez asked me to look after you; and so long as you behave yourself I shall do so."
Bella passed over this petty speech. "Do you mean to say that my father has left everything to you?" she asked pointedly38.
"Everything," assented40 Mrs. Coppersley, with an air of triumph. "Jabez wasn't so rich as folk thought him, and although he had enough invested to give him five hundred a year, he had little ready cash. When my late husband died he left me a good sum. Jabez borrowed this and added it to his own, so that he might buy Bleacres. I agreed, but only on condition that Jabez should leave me the whole property when he died. I saw that the will was made, and Mr. Timson, the Cade Lane lawyer, is now proving it. When probate is obtained, my dear," ended Mrs. Coppersley amiably41, "I shall marry Henry and will be happy for evermore."
"You can stay here until you marry," said Mrs. Coppersley coldly, "as I am a Christian woman, and wish to obey Jabez's request. He left you to me as a legacy44, so I will look after you; only behave yourself."
"Do I ever do anything else?" asked Bella bitterly.
"Oh, dear me, yes," returned her aunt complacently45. "You run after men."
Bella rose with a flushed cheek. "That is a lie."
Mrs. Coppersley rose, also in a violent rage and quite glad to vent19 her petty spite on one who could not retaliate46. "Oh, I'm a liar47, am I?" she said shrilly48. "You call me a liar when I am only keeping you out of charity——"
"Stop!" Bella flung up her hand and spoke firmly. "You are not doing that, Aunt Rosamund. In one way or another you have persuaded my father into leaving you what is rightfully mine. But I shall see Mr. Timson, and read the will; you shall not have it your own way altogether."
Mrs. Coppersley snapped her large finger and thumb. "Go and see the will, by all means," she scoffed49 in a coarse voice; "you won't find any flaw in it, as I was careful that it should be properly drawn50 up. I have a perfect right to the farm, as my money helped to buy it."
"So be it. Keep the farm, but give me the income. That, at least, you have no right to retain."
"I have the right of possession, which is nine points of the law, miss," said Mrs. Coppersley violently, "and the will is plain enough. Jabez did right to leave the money to me, and not to a chit of a girl like you, who would waste your father's hard-earned money on that wastrel51 from London."
"Of whom are you talking?"
"Don't pretend ignorance, miss, for I won't have it. I mean Mr. Lister, as he calls himself, though I daresay he is no better than he should be."
"You have no right to say that."
"I'll say what I like and do what I like. Remember I am mistress; and as you depend entirely52 on me, miss, I order you to give up all idea of this Lister scamp and marry Silas Pence, who is——"
"I shall certainly not marry Silas Pence, or anyone but Cyril," said Bella in icy tones. "You have no right to interfere53 in——"
Mrs. Coppersley stamped and interrupted in her turn. "No right! no right!" she bellowed54 furiously. "I have every right. This house is mine, and the food you eat is mine. If I turned you out you would have to starve, for I am certain that your fine lover would have nothing to do with you. He's a bad man; your father said so."
"My father knew nothing of Mr. Lister."
"He knew that he was bad; he said as much. Why"—Mrs. Coppersley pointed39 a fat finger towards the round table in the centre of the room—"there's a photograph of him, and in a silver frame, too. What extravagance. How dare you spend my money on silver frames?"
She dashed forward to seize the photograph of Cyril, which Bella had brought down from her bedroom and had left unthinkingly on the table. Doubtless Mrs. Coppersley would have destroyed the portrait, but that Bella secured it before the good lady could reach the table. "Mr. Lister gave me this," said Bella, putting it behind her back; "frame and all; it is mine."
"And you dare to bring into the house the picture of a wicked profligate55 whom your father hated," roared Mrs. Coppersley, her red face shining with perspiration56 and her little eyes flashing with wrath57.
"My father being so good himself," said Bella ironically, and feeling quite cool. "Mr. Lister is not a profligate, Aunt Rosamund, and you are a bad woman!"
Mrs. Coppersley gasped like a dying dolphin. "Me a bad woman!" she cried, puffing58 out her cheeks ludicrously; "me, when Henry says that I am the best woman in the world. And I'd have you know, Bella, that I'm a lady and no woman, miss—so there."
The girl, in spite of her grief and dismay, laughed right out. "Even a lady must be a woman," she observed sarcastically59.
"Leave my house! leave my house," panted Mrs. Coppersley.
"No. I shall remain here until I know if the will is correct. I shall stay here, as I say, and shall receive polite treatment. If I do not, I shall dispute the will, and make things unpleasant."
Mrs. Coppersley snapped her fingers. "That for all the harm you can do," she said coarsely. "The will stands good in law. I have made sure of that by consulting Mr. Timson, who drew it up. You can stay here for a week; at the end of that time you pack up and go."
"Where to, Aunt Rosamund?"
"That's your look out, miss. But you don't stay here to spoil my honeymoon60 with my darling Henry."
Bella shrugged61 her shoulders. It really was not worth while losing her temper with a person whose methods were so crude. The more enraged62 Mrs. Coppersley became, the cooler Bella felt. "Do you know what you are, Aunt Rosamund?" she remarked coolly. "You are a bully, and a petty tyrant63. While my father was alive you cringed to him because you were afraid. Now that you think you have the whip hand of me, you vent your spite on one whom you think cannot retaliate. If I had the money, you would cringe to me; as you have it, you take every advantage of your position. But it won't do, Aunt Rosamund, for I am not the girl to submit to your insults. I shall stop here so long as it pleases me to stop, and if you make yourself disagreeable I shall know what to do."
Mrs. Coppersley's face grew slowly white, and her mouth opened and shut like a cod-fish. Had Bella wept, she would have gone on bullying64 triumphantly65, but this cool, calm, scornful demeanour frightened her. At heart, like all bullies66, she was a coward, and knew well that if it were known how she had ousted67 Bella from her rightful inheritance, that she would be unpopular. As Mrs. Coppersley liked to be popular, and hoped, by means of her marriage with Vand, her wrongfully obtained income, and her possession of Bleacres, to be the great lady of the neighbourhood, she did not wish to drive Bella to extremes. She therefore wiped her face, and hedged.
"You mustn't be angry with me Bella," she said in quieter tones, "I wish you well, my girl."
"You wish me just as much as suits yourself," retorted Bella coolly; "so far you have had everything your own way. Now I mean to look into things for myself. You can go now, and entertain your darling Henry. I shall not come to dinner. Send up Jane with some food to my bedroom."
"I shall do nothing of the sort," protested Mrs. Coppersley feebly, for her late rage had exhausted68 her, and she did not feel equal to fighting this pale, steady-eyed girl.
"I have told you what to do; so go and do it!" said Bella, without raising her voice, and looked Mrs. Coppersley squarely in the eyes.
The mistress of Bleacres tried to face down the gaze, but failed, and thoroughly69 cowed and beaten, in spite of her better position, she slowly retreated, muttering to herself a vengeance70 which she was unable to fulfil.
Left alone, Bella gave way. Pride had kept her up during the quarrel with her aunt, but now, secure from observation, she broke down and wept. Never before had she felt so lonely or so helpless. Cyril was away, and she could not confide71 in him, for even if he had been present the terms on which they had parted forbade confidences. There was Dora Ankers, the school-mistress certainly—a good friend, but a bad adviser72, as she knew very little of the world. And there was no one else who could help her in the dilemma73 in which she was placed. She had no home, no friends, and—on the face of it—no lover. It was a terrible position for a girl who hitherto had never met with serious trouble.
In spite of the drawn-down blinds and the cool atmosphere of the room, Bella could scarcely breathe, so she moved to a side window, drew up the blind, and lifted the lower sash. Outside, the brilliance74 of the sunshine was almost blinding, and through the quivering heads, across the still, stiff stalks of the corn, for there was no wind, she could see the gaudy75 red of the scarecrow coat. The mere76 glint of the violent hue77 made her head ache, and she returned to the middle of the room to walk up and down wearily thinking of what was best to be done in the circumstances in which she found herself. The photograph of Cyril in its silver frame she replaced on the table. The much-loved face smiled encouragingly on her. At least, in her over-wrought state she thought so, and the thought aided her to beat down the many fears which assailed78 her.
While musingly79 walking the room, she became aware of a slight noise, and turned abruptly80 towards the window to see a black face grinning at her, with very white teeth. At once her thoughts reverted81 to the prophecy of Granny Tunks, and she felt a sudden thrill of dread as she saw that a black man actually had come to the Manor-house. For one moment, the negro and the fair, young girl looked steadfastly82 at one another, she filled with nervous fear, and he, curiously83 observant. After an almost imperceptible pause—which seemed hours to Bella—the man leaped through the window, before she could regain84 her voice to forbid his entrance.
"Where is my master?" he asked, in guttural tones, but in fairly good English.
Bella did not immediately reply, as her nerves fairly thrilled with the weird85 realisation of what the witch-wife had seen in the crystal, and even now she had not her voice under command. The negro was tall, bulky, and powerfully framed, coal-black from head to foot, with tightly curled hair and sharp, white teeth like those of a dog. Bella had never seen so huge and strong a man, but in spite of his formidable appearance, his dark eyes had a kindly86 look in their depths, and his movements were extremely gentle. Apparently87 his bark was worse than his bite, though his uncivilised looks were enough to awe88 the boldest. Plainly but roughly dressed in an old tweed suit, with brown shoes and a bowler89 hat, he was not noticeable, save for his stature90 and enormous virility91. The sensation he produced on the girl was overpowering, yet it was not entirely one of fear. In spite of his cannibal looks and unexpected entrance, and imperious demand, she felt perfectly92 safe.
"I am Durgo!" explained the negro, annoyed by her silence, as was apparent from the frown which wrinkled his eye-brows. "Where is my master?"
"I don't know where your master is," she replied, finding her tongue with some difficulty. "I do not know who your master is."
"My master," said the negro, "is my master. He came here two weeks and some days ago, more or less. I have come to find him. Where is he?"
"How can I tell you when I do not even know his name?" asked Bella sharply.
"His name is——" Durgo was about to satisfy her curiosity, when he caught sight of the photograph in the silver frame, which still stood on the table. With a guttural cry of delight, he caught this up in his huge hands. "Oh, my master! my master!" he gurgled, in an ecstasy93 of delight.
Bella stepped back a pace with a scared look. "Mr. Lister your master?"
Durgo nodded, and coolly slipped the photograph, frame and all, into the breast pocket of his tweed coat. "He is here! I shall find him," he remarked. "Did my master see Captain Huxham?"
"Yes," she replied mechanically.
"Did my master and Captain Huxham quarrel?"
"Yes," she replied again, and still mechanically.
"And did my master get what he wanted?" demanded the negro, rolling his eyes.
"I don't know what Mr. Lister wanted," said Bella faintly; "you must explain yourself, and——"
"I explain nothing until I see my master," was Durgo's reply. "Perhaps Captain Huxham knows where my master is?"
"Captain Huxham is dead," she gasped.
Durgo shut his strong white teeth with a click. "Dead!" he repeated. "Ah—aha—aha; Captain Huxham is dead. Then my master——"
"No," cried Bella, covering her eyes. "I don't believe that Cyril killed my father—I don't believe it."
"Cyril! father!" repeated Durgo, looking at her curiously. "I must learn if——" He broke off suddenly and moved noiselessly to the window. Bella stretched a helpless hand to stay him, but, lightly vaulting94 out of doors, he disappeared in a moment. She rushed to the window and saw him running down the path towards the boundary channel. There was no chance of catching95 him up, as she saw well, and therefore drew back.
"The crystal! the crystal!" she muttered to herself, shivering. "Granny must know what it all means. I must see Granny, and ask about the crystal."
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1
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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versed
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| adj. 精通，熟练 | |
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solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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lamenting
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| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
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6
accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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sedulously
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| ad.孜孜不倦地 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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hectic
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| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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discourses
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| 论文( discourse的名词复数 )； 演说； 讲道； 话语 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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tartly
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| adv.辛辣地，刻薄地 | |
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condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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chubby
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| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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flamboyant
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| adj.火焰般的，华丽的，炫耀的 | |
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psychic
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| n.对超自然力敏感的人；adj.有超自然力的 | |
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pettishly
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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flopped
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| v.（指书、戏剧等）彻底失败( flop的过去式和过去分词 )；（因疲惫而）猛然坐下；（笨拙地、不由自主地或松弛地）移动或落下；砸锅 | |
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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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pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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legacy
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| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
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complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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retaliate
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| v.报复，反击 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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scoffed
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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51
wastrel
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| n.浪费者；废物 | |
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52
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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profligate
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| adj.行为不检的；n.放荡的人，浪子，肆意挥霍者 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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honeymoon
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| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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bullies
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| n.欺凌弱小者, 开球 vt.恐吓, 威胁, 欺负 | |
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ousted
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| 驱逐( oust的过去式和过去分词 )； 革职； 罢黜； 剥夺 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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adviser
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| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
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dilemma
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| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
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brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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reverted
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| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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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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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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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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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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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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bowler
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| n.打保龄球的人，（板球的）投（球）手 | |
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stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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virility
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| n.雄劲，丈夫气 | |
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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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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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vaulting
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| n.（天花板或屋顶的）拱形结构 | |
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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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