So far the guide-book; but the above-mentioned gentry referred to therein were not at all pleased by the advertisement, as many of the cheap trippers came to visit the place from Market-on-Sea, and by no means improved the countryside with their rowdy manners. Miss Berengaria Plantagenet was especially wrathful at the yearly plague of sightseers, and would have put them all in jail had she been able. She was a dignified8 old lady, small in stature9, with a withered10 rosy11 face, white hair, and eyes as keen as those of a robin12, if not so shallow. Her mansion13—so she called it—stood at the end of the village, a little way back from the long, straight road which ran towards the coast and the marshes. But the term mansion was rather a misnomer14. The place had originally been a small farmhouse15, and Miss Berengaria—as she was usually called—had added to it considerably16, so that it formed an irregular pile of buildings, all angles and gables, sloping roofs and stacks of twisted chimneys. Some of it was thatched, a portion was covered with mellow18 red tiles, and a kind of round turret19, quite out of keeping with the rest of the building, was slated20. Every species of architecture was represented in "The Bower21," and the name did not fit it in the least. But Miss Berengaria had dwelt in it for forty years—ever since she had been disappointed in love—and, being a lady of singularly independent character, she gave the house its odd appellation22. The low pile of buildings—for the most part of these did not exceed one story in height—looked quaint and queer, but then Miss Berengaria was queer herself.
Every morning she could be seen in her garden snipping23 and picking and clipping and scolding. The gardens were divided from the highroad by a low hedge of holly24 and hawthorn25, carefully trimmed, and presented a pleasant spectacle of lawn and flower-beds. In summer the place was gay with cottage flowers, for Miss Berengaria, being old-fashioned herself, would have no new-fangled importations. The flowers she loved were snapdragon, sweet-william, heart's-ease, and all those homely26 blossoms such as John Bunyan loved. The house was covered with Virginia creeper, wistaria and ivy27, and through the thick growth peeped the latticed windows under heavy eyebrows28 of gray thatch17. It might have been a cottage out of a fairy tale for quaintness29; and its mistress might have been a fairy herself in stature and oddity. The villagers liked her, though she was rather dreaded30.
"A sharp old lady," said the host of the Conniston Arms, "and quite the lady, bless you! though she do keep fowls31 and ducks and though she do sell her fruit. She looks like a gipsy by way of dress in the day, but when she claps her diamonds on at night, bless you! she's as grand as the queen herself."
This report was perfectly32 true. Miss Berengaria always dressed—as she put it—anyhow during the day; but at night she appeared in silver gray silk covered with costly33 lace, and wearing jewels of great value. She had a weakness for jewels, and had many, which she wore every evening. People hinted that she would be robbed, as the cottage was situated34 in rather a solitary35 position, and a quarter of a mile from the village. But Miss Berengaria was a stout-hearted old lady and laughed such ideas to scorn.
As it was now winter, Miss Berengaria was attired36 in a wincey dress with a tartan shawl, and wore rubber boots on her feet and large gardener's gloves on her hands. Having finished clipping and pruning—she kept no gardener, saying she knew more than a trained professional—she tripped round to the back of the house, where a colony of fowls, pigeons, ducks, turkeys and geese welcomed her coming with much noise. Her hobby—amongst others—was fowl-farming, and she gave up a large portion of her time to rearing and fattening37 birds for the market. As her income was five thousand a year there was no need for her to work so hard, but she was out at all times and in all weathers attending to her feathered pets. A particularly ugly [pg 80]bull-dog, called Sloppy38 Jane, accompanied her. Miss Berengaria did not approve of the name, but the dog would answer to no other, so it had to be adopted. Sloppy Jane was devoted39 to her mistress and to Alice. While Miss Berengaria was feeding the fowls and wondering when the gong would sound for breakfast, Alice came out with a paper in her hand. She was a tall, slim girl with a fair face and brown eyes and hair. Not particularly pretty, perhaps, but with such a sweet expression and such a charming disposition40 that young men fell in love with her on the spot. Nor after a closer acquaintance did any see fit to change their opinions. Had Sir Simon seen her he might have approved of Bernard's choice, but there being a standing41 quarrel between the old baronet and Miss Berengaria, on the rights of a footpath42, the old man had never come near "The Bower" for years. The old gentlewoman, in spite of a rather sharp manner, was fond of Alice, and Miss Malleson was devoted to her. The morning was sharp and cold, but there was a blue sky and occasional glints of sunshine. "And I shouldn't wonder if we had snow," said Miss Berengaria, looking up. "Perhaps a snowy Christmas. Ah, we had them when I was a girl. But there! the weather's deteriorated43 like everything else."
"Aunt," said Alice, in a faint voice—Miss Berengaria always liked to hear the name, although she was no relative—"Aunt!"
At the sound of the faint voice the old dame44 wheeled round—she was active in spite of being eighty years of age—and uttered an exclamation45 on seeing the white face of the girl. Alice was deathly pale and, clinging with one hand to some wire netting, held a newspaper in the other. "What's the matter, child? Anything wrong?"
"This must be looked into," said Miss Berengaria, using her favorite expression. "Something is wrong with that silly boy. What's he been doing, child? It must be something bad if it's in the paper."
"I don't believe he did it," said Alice, trembling. "He is innocent."
Miss Berengaria trembled also and sat down. "Don't hint at horrors, Alice," she said, with an effort at self-command. "I'm not fit for such things. I don't suppose the boy's killed anyone—though, to be sure, as he's a soldier now, it's his trade."
"Murder!"
"Eh! What's that? Murder, Alice!" The old lady's ruddy cheeks grew white, and she stretched out her hand for the paper. "Show me!" she said resolutely47.
"Bernard is dead!" she moaned.
"Dead! Great Heavens!"
"He is drowned. It's all in the paper. It's all—Oh—oh!"
Breaking off suddenly she dropped the paper, and fled towards the house like a creature suddenly aroused to life. Miss Berengaria did not lose a moment. With an activity wonderful in a woman of her years she sprang to her feet, and hurried up the path round to the front of the house, following in the wake of the weeping girl. She saw Alice disappear into the porch and enter the breakfast-room, where the meal was already waiting. There, on the hearth-rug, Alice fell prone50. Miss Berengaria knelt down and took her hand. She had not fainted, but, cold and shivering, was sobbing51 as though her heart would break. And perhaps it would, under this unexpected and terrible calamity52. Bernard was her idol53, and now he was dead, and his memory fouled54 with the accusation55 of an awful crime.
Finding that Alice still had her senses Miss Berengaria nodded and sat down. "The best thing for you, my dear," she said in a soft voice. "Weep your heart out, while I read the paper."
These words sound rather heartless, but the old lady did not intend them to be so. She realized that tears would relieve the strain on the almost stunned56 girl, and welcomed them gladly. Alice knew that her friend spoke57 for the best, but she gave no sign as, lying prone on the rug, she concealed58 her agonized59 face, while Miss Berengaria adjusting her spectacles, glanced through the paper. Already the gong had sounded, the meal smoked on the table, and there was no fear of interruptions by the servants. But neither Miss Berengaria nor Alice was able to eat in the face of this bolt from the blue.
"Where is it, my dear?—oh, here! Murder and Suicide. A nice heading, upon my word. Rubbish! I don't believe a word of it."
"Read! Read!" moaned the girl at her feet.
"Alice," said Miss Berengaria, severely60, "before reading a word I tell you that I don't believe a word of it. Bernard, though a silly boy, would not kill a fly, nor would he kill himself. Murder and Suicide! Oh, rubbish—rubbish!"
"But you know, and I know, he quarrelled with his grandfather."
Miss Berengaria looked at the girl's white face as she half crouched61, half sat on the rug, with her eyes wild and her brown hair in disorder62.
"He is dead."
"Dead!"—Miss Berengaria shivered. "You don't mean to say that."
"Read! Read! Everything is against him—everything. Oh, how can I bear my life? How can I live?"
"Alice," said the old dame again, although she was very white, "if this lying paper means to say that Bernard murdered Sir Simon, I tell you again that I don't believe a word of it. You, who love him, ought to believe in his innocence64."
"But the evidence."
"A fig65 for evidence. Circumstantial evidence has hanged an innocent man before now. Bernard Gore66 kill that old tyrant——?"
"And so we are to speak well of him," snapped Miss Berengaria. "Oh, well"—she rubbed her nose—"we'll tell lies about him like the majority of tombstones do of those who lie below, but I tell you, foolish girl that you are, Bernard did not kill the old man, nor did he kill himself."
"But the paper says——"
"I don't care what the paper says," said Miss Berengaria, resolutely. "No, indeed. I am a better judge of character than any paper. That poor boy was vilely68 treated by that—there! there! I won't say a word [pg 84]against Sir Simon. He's dead, and we must be lenient69. But Bernard Gore is innocent. Before I read I tell you that."
"I hope it may be so," cried Alice, clasping her hands.
"It is so," said the other, sharply and in a truly feminine way. "All I know is that Sloppy Jane adored him, and she's not the dog to adore anyone who would shed blood."
Alice could not but see that this reasoning was not based on facts. But, all the same, ridiculous though it was, she derived70 a certain comfort from it. Miss Berengaria, who had been thus optimistic to quieten the poor girl, nodded, when Alice took a seat in the opposite chair more composed, and addressed herself to mastering the facts of the case. Alice, with clasped hands, stared at the old lady as she read silently but with frequent raising of her eyebrows and sometimes a sniff71. The paper stated that Sir Simon and his grandson, Bernard, were enemies, that the young man, having been hanging round the house for a fortnight courting the housemaid, had secured an interview with the elder when Miss Randolph was at the theatre. He had evidently quarrelled with Sir Simon, and, having chloroformed him, had quietly strangled him with his own handkerchief, after which he left the house. Then followed an account of the pursuit and failure to capture Gore. "He escaped the officers by plunging72 into the river," said the journal. "Next morning his khaki coat and hat were found on the opposite bank, so doubtless he got rid of them when attempting to swim. But what, with the cold and the fog, undoubtedly73 he must have succumbed74 to the force of the current." Finally the paper stated that an inquest would be held within two days on the dead body. At the conclusion of this somewhat bald article, Miss Berengaria gave a short laugh and threw down the paper. "I don't believe a word of it," she said, folding her arms, "and I'm going up to London."
"What for, aunt?"
"To see into the matter myself. I believe that Beryl creature is responsible for the whole thing."
"But see," said Alice, picking up the paper, "he was at the theatre with Lucy and a Mrs. Webber."
"I don't care. Failing Bernard, Julius comes in for the money."
"He comes in for it even without that," said Alice, bitterly. "Don't you remember that Sir Simon disinherited Bernard because he would not give me up? I implored75 Bernard, for his own sake, to break our engagement, but he refused. He gave up all for me, and now he is dead—dea—dead. Oh," sobbed76 Alice, "how unhappy I am!"
"How foolish you are," said Miss Berengaria, her eyes hard and bright. "Do you think a man, who could act towards you in so noble a way, would commit a cowardly murder, and then shirk the consequences? Not at all. I'm ashamed of you. I once loved," said the old lady, rising and marching energetically about the room, "and my lover was a fool and a villain77. Bernard is neither. He is a fine fellow, God bless him and bring him safely out of this trouble! He shall have my help—yes, my best help," added Miss Berengaria nodding.
"But he is dead."
"He is not dead, you weak-minded, silly, hysterical78 girl. That sort of man has as many lives as a cat. He's alive, to vindicate79 his reputation and to bring home the crime to the real assassin."
"But who can that be?" asked Alice, comforted by this assurance.
"I don't know," said Miss Berengaria, taking a seat at the table. "Come and pour out my coffee, and eat."
Alice dragged herself to the table and took up the silver pot. "I can't eat," she said faintly.
"Yes, you can; and, what's more, you're going to. No nonsense with me, miss. You and I have a hard task before us."
"What is that?"
Miss Berengaria laid down her knife and fork with which she was about to carve a piece of bacon. "Well, I am astonished," she said, glaring. "In my young days a girl in love would have been ashamed to make such a speech. Why, bless me! haven't we got to prove Bernard's innocence?"
"Will that bring him to life?" said Alice, bitterly.
"It would, if it were necessary; but it isn't. Bernard's in hiding."
"Can you be sure?"
"Alice Malleson," said the resolute48 old dame, "if you were younger I would shake you and send you to bed on bread and water. You don't deserve to be loved by such a man. He gave up all for you, and you believe the worst of him."
"Bernard has a temper, and he might have—"
"But he didn't. I know he has a temper. I admire his temper. I saw him thrash a tramp for throwing away a loaf of bread, and that warmed my heart towards him. Had I married the villain I didn't marry, and he hadn't been such a villain as he was, I would have had a son just like Bernard—perhaps two or three. Dear! dear, what a loss to the British Empire that I never married."
In spite of her grief Alice could not help smiling at this way of putting things. But certainly Miss Plantagenet was right. Had she been a mother, her dauntless nature was of the sort that would have bred brave sons for the motherland. The old lady was one of those strong people always to be relied upon in time of calamity. The worse the trouble the quicker Miss Berengaria rose to the occasion. She prided herself on facing facts, alleging80 that only in this way could things be settled. At the present moment she acknowledged silently to herself that things looked black against Bernard Gore and that he really might be dead for all she knew. But to Alice she refused to admit these thoughts.
"This must be looked into," she said energetically, "and I am going up to town to see about the matter. When I have heard the evidence at the inquest I'll know how to shape my course."
"What will you do?" asked Alice, brightening under this optimism.
"When acquainted with the facts," said Miss Berengaria, rolling up her napkin, "and when I have formed my theory—"
"Your theory, aunt?"
"Yes! My theory as to who murdered the old—Well, it's Sir Simon I mean—we must be lenient to his memory. But when I have formed my theory I'll see a detective and place the matter in his hands. I shall [pg 88]then advertise for Bernard and we must see if we can't get him to come here."
"He would be arrested if he did."
"Not at all. I know where to hide him. There's the haunted room in the turret. If he were hidden there no one could find him. And if anyone of my servants—my good servants," said the old dame, emphatically, "denounces him I'll eat my hat, and that's a vulgar expression," added she, as she placed the napkin on the table with a smart tap. "Child, come and help me to dress. I shall leave by the mid-day train. You can send all letters to the Waterloo Hotel, Guelph Street."
"But I am coming also," said Alice, rising resolutely.
"No, you are not," rejoined Miss Berengaria, patting the hand laid on her shoulder, and turning back from the door. "Though I am glad to see that you are ready to help."
"Who has the right to help my darling but I?"
"Ah!" Miss Berengaria rubbed her nose with satisfaction. "It does my heart good to hear you talk sense. Is Bernard innocent?"
"Yes," said Alice, emphatically.
"Is he alive?"
"Not so strong as you ought to be," said the aunt, sadly. "My dear, you must believe that he is alive, because he is. I have no reason to give, so don't ask me for one. He is alive, and all you have to do is to remain here and watch for his coming. Yes. It is more than probable that Bernard will come here."
"But the danger," said Alice, faintly.
"Bernard knows neither you nor I will give him up, and this is the place he will come to. The poor soul is being hunted down, I daresay. But he knows where to come to, bless him! Watch, my dear child. It is probable he will come at night. Then take him to the turret room, and tell the servants to hold their tongues. What's that?"
It was a demure82 old woman—all Miss Berengaria's servants were aged—who advanced with a telegram for Alice. With shaking fingers, the girl opened it. "From Mr. Durham," she said. "He is Bernard's lawyer and wants me to come to see him at once."
"No," said Miss Berengaria, taking the telegram from her. "I'll go myself. You stay here and wait for the coming of that poor boy."
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1
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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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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dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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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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withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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misnomer
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| n.误称 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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thatch
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| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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turret
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| n.塔楼，角塔 | |
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slated
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| 用石板瓦盖( slate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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appellation
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| n.名称，称呼 | |
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snipping
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| n.碎片v.剪( snip的现在分词 ) | |
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holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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hawthorn
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| 山楂 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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quaintness
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| n.离奇有趣，古怪的事物 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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31
fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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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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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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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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attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fattening
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| adj.（食物）要使人发胖的v.喂肥( fatten的现在分词 )；养肥（牲畜）；使（钱）增多；使（公司）升值 | |
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sloppy
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| adj.邋遢的，不整洁的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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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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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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footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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deteriorated
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| 恶化，变坏( deteriorate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dame
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| n.女士 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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46
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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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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49
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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50
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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51
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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52
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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53
idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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54
fouled
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| v.使污秽( foul的过去式和过去分词 )；弄脏；击球出界；（通常用废物）弄脏 | |
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55
accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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56
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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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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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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59
agonized
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| v.使（极度）痛苦，折磨( agonize的过去式和过去分词 )；苦斗；苦苦思索；感到极度痛苦 | |
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60
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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61
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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tartly
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| adv.辛辣地，刻薄地 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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fig
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| n.无花果(树) | |
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66
gore
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| n.凝血，血污；v.（动物）用角撞伤，用牙刺破；缝以补裆；顶 | |
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67
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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68
vilely
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| adv.讨厌地，卑劣地 | |
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69
lenient
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| adj.宽大的，仁慈的 | |
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70
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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71
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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72
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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73
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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77
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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79
vindicate
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| v.为…辩护或辩解，辩明；证明…正确 | |
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alleging
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| 断言，宣称，辩解( allege的现在分词 ) | |
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81
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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demure
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| adj.严肃的；端庄的 | |
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