The first of these was to realize the breakfast he had not yet tasted, and with which his appetite of fifteen could ill afford to dispense3; the second, third, fourth, to get his mother, Miss Moore, and Mrs. Horsfall successfully out of the way before four o'clock that afternoon.
The first was, for the present, the most pressing, since the work before him demanded an amount of energy which the present empty condition of his youthful stomach did not seem likely to supply.
Martin knew the way to the larder4, and knowing this way he took it. The servants were in the kitchen, breakfasting solemnly with closed doors; his mother and Miss Moore were airing themselves on the lawn, and discussing the closed doors aforesaid. Martin, safe in the larder, made fastidious selection from its stores. His breakfast had been delayed; he was determined5 it should be recherché. It appeared to him that a variety on his usual somewhat insipid6 fare of bread and milk was both desirable and advisable; the savoury and the salutary he thought might be combined. There was store of rosy7 apples laid in straw upon a shelf; he picked out three. There was pastry8 upon a dish; he selected an apricot puff9 and a503 damson tart10. On the plain household bread his eye did not dwell; but he surveyed with favour some currant tea-cakes, and condescended11 to make choice of one. Thanks to his clasp-knife, he was able to appropriate a wing of fowl12 and a slice of ham; a cantlet of cold custard-pudding he thought would harmonize with these articles; and having made this final addition to his booty, he at length sallied forth13 into the hall.
He was already half-way across—three steps more would have anchored him in the harbour of the back parlour—when the front door opened, and there stood Matthew. Better far had it been the Old Gentleman, in full equipage of horns, hoofs14, and tail.
Matthew, sceptic and scoffer15, had already failed to subscribe16 a prompt belief in that pain about the heart. He had muttered some words, amongst which the phrase "shamming17 Abraham" had been very distinctly audible, and the succession to the armchair and newspaper had appeared to affect him with mental spasms18. The spectacle now before him—the apples, the tarts19, the tea-cakes, the fowl, ham, and pudding—offered evidence but too well calculated to inflate20 his opinion of his own sagacity.
Martin paused interdit one minute, one instant; the next he knew his ground, and pronounced all well. With the true perspicacity21 des âmes élites, he at once saw how this at first sight untoward22 event might be turned to excellent account. He saw how it might be so handled as to secure the accomplishment23 of his second task—namely, the disposal of his mother. He knew that a collision between him and Matthew always suggested to Mrs. Yorke the propriety24 of a fit of hysterics. He further knew that, on the principle of calm succeeding to storm, after a morning of hysterics his mother was sure to indulge in an afternoon of bed. This would accommodate him perfectly25.
The collision duly took place in the hall. A dry laugh, an insulting sneer26, a contemptuous taunt27, met by a nonchalant but most cutting reply, were the signals. They rushed at it. Martin, who usually made little noise on these occasions, made a great deal now. In flew the servants, Mrs. Yorke, Miss Moore. No female hand could separate them. Mr. Yorke was summoned.
"Sons," said he, "one of you must leave my roof if this occurs again. I will have no Cain and Abel strife28 here."
504Martin now allowed himself to be taken off. He had been hurt; he was the youngest and slightest. He was quite cool, in no passion; he even smiled, content that the most difficult part of the labour he had set himself was over.
Once he seemed to flag in the course of the morning.
"It is not worth while to bother myself for that Caroline," he remarked. But a quarter of an hour afterwards he was again in the dining-room, looking at the head with dishevelled tresses, and eyes turbid29 with despair.
"Yes," he said, "I made her sob30, shudder31, almost faint. I'll see her smile before I've done with her; besides, I want to outwit all these womenites."
Directly after dinner Mrs. Yorke fulfilled her son's calculation by withdrawing to her chamber32. Now for Hortense.
That lady was just comfortably settled to stocking-mending in the back parlour, when Martin—laying down a book which, stretched on the sofa (he was still indisposed, according to his own account), he had been perusing33 in all the voluptuous34 ease of a yet callow pacha—lazily introduced some discourse35 about Sarah, the maid at the Hollow. In the course of much verbal meandering36 he insinuated37 information that this damsel was said to have three suitors—Frederic Murgatroyd, Jeremiah Pighills, and John-of-Mally's-of-Hannah's-of-Deb's; and that Miss Mann had affirmed she knew for a fact that, now the girl was left in sole charge of the cottage, she often had her swains to meals, and entertained them with the best the house afforded.
It needed no more. Hortense could not have lived another hour without betaking herself to the scene of these nefarious38 transactions, and inspecting the state of matters in person. Mrs. Horsfall remained.
Martin, master of the field now, extracted from his mother's work-basket a bunch of keys; with these he opened the sideboard cupboard, produced thence a black bottle and a small glass, placed them on the table, nimbly mounted the stairs, made for Mr. Moore's door, tapped; the nurse opened.
"If you please, ma'am, you are invited to step into the back parlour and take some refreshment39. You will not be disturbed; the family are out."
He watched her down; he watched her in; himself shut the door. He knew she was safe.
505The hard work was done; now for the pleasure. He snatched his cap, and away for the wood.
It was yet but half-past three. It had been a fine morning, but the sky looked dark now. It was beginning to snow; the wind blew cold; the wood looked dismal40, the old tree grim. Yet Martin approved the shadow on his path. He found a charm in the spectral41 aspect of the doddered oak.
He had to wait. To and fro he walked, while the flakes42 fell faster; and the wind, which at first had but moaned, pitifully howled.
"She is long in coming," he muttered, as he glanced along the narrow track. "I wonder," he subjoined, "what I wish to see her so much for? She is not coming for me. But I have power over her, and I want her to come that I may use that power."
He continued his walk.
"Now," he resumed, when a further period had elapsed, "if she fails to come, I shall hate and scorn her."
It struck four. He heard the church clock far away. A step so quick, so light, that, but for the rustling43 of leaves, it would scarcely have sounded on the wood-walk, checked his impatience44. The wind blew fiercely now, and the thickening white storm waxed bewildering; but on she came, and not dismayed.
"Well, Martin," she said eagerly, "how is he?"
"It is queer how she thinks of him," reflected Martin. "The blinding snow and bitter cold are nothing to her, I believe; yet she is but a 'chitty-faced creature,' as my mother would say. I could find in my heart to wish I had a cloak to wrap her in."
Thus meditating46 to himself, he neglected to answer Miss Helstone.
"You have seen him?"
"No."
"Oh! you promised you would."
"I mean to do better by you than that. Didn't I say I don't care to see him?"
"But now it will be so long before I get to know any thing certain about him, and I am sick of waiting. Martin, do see him, and give him Caroline Helstone's regards, and say she wished to know how he was, and if anything could be done for his comfort."
"I won't."
506"You are changed. You were so friendly last night."
"Come, we must not stand in this wood; it is too cold."
"But before I go promise me to come again to-morrow with news."
"No such thing. I am much too delicate to make and keep such appointments in the winter season. If you knew what a pain I had in my chest this morning, and how I went without breakfast, and was knocked down besides, you'd feel the impropriety of bringing me here in the snow. Come, I say."
"Are you really delicate, Martin?"
"Don't I look so?"
"You have rosy cheeks."
"Where?"
"You are going home; my nearest road lies in the opposite direction."
"Put your arm through mine; I'll take care of you."
"But the wall—the hedge—it is such hard work climbing, and you are too slender and young to help me without hurting yourself."
"You shall go through the gate."
"But——"
"But, but—will you trust me or not?"
She looked into his face.
"I think I will. Anything rather than return as anxious as I came."
"I can't answer for that. This, however, I promise you: be ruled by me, and you shall see Moore yourself."
"See him myself?"
"Yourself."
"But, dear Martin, does he know?"
"Ah! I'm dear now. No, he doesn't know."
"And your mother and the others?"
"All is right."
Caroline fell into a long, silent fit of musing49, but still she walked on with her guide. They came in sight of Briarmains.
"Have you made up your mind?" he asked.
She was silent.
"Decide; we are just on the spot. I won't see him—that I tell you—except to announce your arrival."
507"Martin, you are a strange boy, and this is a strange step; but all I feel is and has been, for a long time, strange. I will see him."
"No."
"Here we are, then. Do not be afraid of passing the parlour window; no one will see you. My father and Matthew are at the mill, Mark is at school, the servants are in the back kitchen, Miss Moore is at the cottage, my mother in her bed, and Mrs. Horsfall in paradise. Observe—I need not ring. I open the door; the hall is empty, the staircase quiet; so is the gallery. The whole house and all its inhabitants are under a spell, which I will not break till you are gone."
"Martin, I trust you."
"You never said a better word. Let me take your shawl. I will shake off the snow and dry it for you. You are cold and wet. Never mind; there is a fire upstairs. Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Follow me."
He left his shoes on the mat, mounted the stair unshod. Caroline stole after, with noiseless step. There was a gallery, and there was a passage; at the end of that passage Martin paused before a door and tapped. He had to tap twice—thrice. A voice, known to one listener, at last said, "Come in."
The boy entered briskly.
"Mr. Moore, a lady called to inquire after you. None of the women were about. It is washing-day, and the maids are over the crown of the head in soap-suds in the back kitchen, so I asked her to step up."
"Up here, sir?"
"Up here, sir; but if you object, she shall go down again."
"Is this a place or am I a person to bring a lady to, you absurd lad?"
"No; so I'll take her off."
"Martin, you will stay here. Who is she?"
"Your grandmother from that château on the Scheldt Miss Moore talks about."
"Martin," said the softest whisper at the door, "don't be foolish."
508"Is she there?" inquired Moore hastily. He had caught an imperfect sound.
"She is there, fit to faint. She is standing51 on the mat, shocked at your want of filial affection."
"More like me than you; for she is young and beautiful."
"You are to show her forward. Do you hear?"
"Come, Miss Caroline."
"Miss Caroline!" repeated Moore.
And when Miss Caroline entered she was encountered in the middle of the chamber by a tall, thin, wasted figure, who took both her hands.
"I give you a quarter of an hour," said Martin, as he withdrew, "no more. Say what you have to say in that time. Till it is past I will wait in the gallery; nothing shall approach; I'll see you safe away. Should you persist in staying longer, I leave you to your fate."
He shut the door. In the gallery he was as elate as a king. He had never been engaged in an adventure he liked so well, for no adventure had ever invested him with so much importance or inspired him with so much interest.
"You are come at last," said the meagre man, gazing on his visitress with hollow eyes.
"Did you expect me before?"
"For a month, near two months, we have been very near; and I have been in sad pain, and danger, and misery52, Cary."
"I could not come."
"Couldn't you? But the rectory and Briarmains are very near—not two miles apart."
There was pain and there was pleasure in the girl's face as she listened to these implied reproaches. It was sweet, it was bitter to defend herself.
"When I say I could not come, I mean I could not see you; for I came with mamma the very day we heard what had happened. Mr. MacTurk then told us it was impossible to admit any stranger."
"But afterwards—every fine afternoon these many weeks past I have waited and listened. Something here, Cary"—laying his hand on his breast—"told me it was impossible but that you should think of me. Not that I merit thought; but we are old acquaintance—we are cousins."
"I came again, Robert; mamma and I came again."
509"Did you? Come, that is worth hearing. Since you came again, we will sit down and talk about it."
They sat down. Caroline drew her chair up to his. The air was now dark with snow; an Iceland blast was driving it wildly. This pair neither heard the long "wuthering" rush, nor saw the white burden it drifted. Each seemed conscious but of one thing—the presence of the other.
"So mamma and you came again?"
"And Mrs. Yorke did treat us strangely. We asked to see you. 'No,' said she, 'not in my house. I am at present responsible for his life; it shall not be forfeited53 for half an hour's idle gossip.' But I must not tell you all she said; it was very disagreeable. However, we came yet again—mamma, Miss Keeldar, and I. This time we thought we should conquer, as we were three against one, and Shirley was on our side. But Mrs. Yorke opened such a battery."
Moore smiled. "What did she say?"
"Things that astonished us. Shirley laughed at last; I cried; mamma was seriously annoyed. We were all three driven from the field. Since that time I have only walked once a day past the house, just for the satisfaction of looking up at your window, which I could distinguish by the drawn2 curtains. I really dared not come in."
"I have wished for you, Caroline."
"I did not know that; I never dreamt one instant that you thought of me. If I had but most distantly imagined such a possibility——"
"Mrs. Yorke would still have beaten you."
"She would not. Stratagem54 should have been tried, if persuasion55 failed. I would have come to the kitchen door; the servants should have let me in, and I would have walked straight upstairs. In fact, it was far more the fear of intrusion—the fear of yourself—that baffled me than the fear of Mrs. Yorke."
"Only last night I despaired of ever seeing you again. Weakness has wrought56 terrible depression in me—terrible depression."
"And you sit alone?"
"Worse than alone."
"But you must be getting better, since you can leave your bed?"
510"I doubt whether I shall live. I see nothing for it, after such exhaustion57, but decline."
"You—you shall go home to the Hollow."
"Dreariness58 would accompany, nothing cheerful come near me."
"I will alter this. This shall be altered, were there ten Mrs. Yorkes to do battle with."
"Cary, you make me smile."
"Do smile; smile again. Shall I tell you what I should like?"
"Tell me anything—only keep talking. I am Saul; but for music I should perish."
"I should like you to be brought to the rectory, and given to me and mamma."
"A precious gift! I have not laughed since they shot me till now."
"Do you suffer pain, Robert?"
"Not so much pain now; but I am hopelessly weak, and the state of my mind is inexpressible—dark, barren, impotent. Do you not read it all in my face? I look a mere59 ghost."
"Altered; yet I should have known you anywhere. But I understand your feelings; I experienced something like it. Since we met, I too have been very ill."
"Very ill?"
"I thought I should die. The tale of my life seemed told. Every night, just at midnight, I used to wake from awful dreams; and the book lay open before me at the last page, where was written 'Finis.' I had strange feelings."
"You speak my experience."
"I believed I should never see you again; and I grew so thin—as thin as you are now. I could do nothing for myself—neither rise nor lie down; and I could not eat. Yet you see I am better."
"Comforter—sad as sweet. I am too feeble to say what I feel; but while you speak I do feel."
"Here I am at your side, where I thought never more to be. Here I speak to you. I see you listen to me willingly—look at me kindly60. Did I count on that? I despaired."
"May I be spared to make some atonement."
Such was his prayer.
"And for what?"
"We will not touch on it now, Cary; unmanned as I am, I have not the power to cope with such a topic. Was Mrs. Pryor with you during your illness?"
"Yes"—Caroline smiled brightly—"you know she is mamma?"
"I have heard—Hortense told me; but that tale too I will receive from yourself. Does she add to your happiness?"
"What! mamma? She is dear to me; how dear I cannot say. I was altogether weary, and she held me up."
"I deserve to hear that in a moment when I can scarce lift my hand to my head. I deserve it."
"It is no reproach against you."
"It is a coal of fire heaped on my head; and so is every word you address to me, and every look that lights your sweet face. Come still nearer, Lina; and give me your hand—if my thin fingers do not scare you."
She took those thin fingers between her two little hands; she bent62 her head et les effleura de ses lèvres. (I put that in French because the word effleurer is an exquisite63 word.) Moore was much moved. A large tear or two coursed down his hollow cheek.
"I'll keep these things in my heart, Cary; that kiss I will put by, and you shall hear of it again one day."
"Come out!" cried Martin, opening the door—"come away; you have had twenty minutes instead of a quarter of an hour."
"She will not stir yet, you hempseed."
"I dare not stay longer, Robert."
"Can you promise to return?"
"No, she can't," responded Martin. "The thing mustn't become customary. I can't be troubled. It's very well for once; I'll not have it repeated."
"You'll not have it repeated."
"Hush64! don't vex65 him; we could not have met to-day but for him. But I will come again, if it is your wish that I should come."
"It is my wish—my one wish—almost the only wish I can feel."
"Come this minute. My mother has coughed, got up, set her feet on the floor. Let her only catch you on the512 stairs, Miss Caroline. You're not to bid him good-bye"—stepping between her and Moore—"you are to march."
"My shawl, Martin."
"I have it. I'll put it on for you when you are in the hall."
He made them part. He would suffer no farewell but what could be expressed in looks. He half carried Caroline down the stairs. In the hall he wrapped her shawl round her, and, but that his mother's tread then creaked in the gallery, and but that a sentiment of diffidence—the proper, natural, therefore the noble impulse of his boy's heart—held him back, he would have claimed his reward; he would have said, "Now, Miss Caroline, for all this give me one kiss." But ere the words had passed his lips she was across the snowy road, rather skimming than wading66 the drifts.
He flattered himself that it was opportunity, not audacity68, which had failed him. He misjudged the quality of his own nature, and held it for something lower than it was.
该作者的其它作品
《Jane Eyre简爱》
该作者的其它作品
《Jane Eyre简爱》
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1
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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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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dispense
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| vt.分配，分发；配(药)，发(药)；实施 | |
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larder
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| n.食物贮藏室，食品橱 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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insipid
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| adj.无味的，枯燥乏味的，单调的 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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pastry
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| n.油酥面团，酥皮糕点 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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tart
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| adj.酸的；尖酸的，刻薄的；n.果馅饼；淫妇 | |
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condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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scoffer
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| 嘲笑者 | |
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subscribe
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| vi.(to)订阅，订购；同意；vt.捐助，赞助 | |
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shamming
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| 假装，冒充( sham的现在分词 ) | |
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spasms
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| n.痉挛( spasm的名词复数 )；抽搐；（能量、行为等的）突发；发作 | |
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tarts
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| n.果馅饼( tart的名词复数 )；轻佻的女人；妓女；小妞 | |
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inflate
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| vt.使膨胀，使骄傲，抬高（物价） | |
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perspicacity
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| n. 敏锐, 聪明, 洞察力 | |
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untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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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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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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taunt
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| n.辱骂，嘲弄；v.嘲弄 | |
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strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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turbid
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| adj.混浊的，泥水的，浓的 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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perusing
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的现在分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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meandering
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| 蜿蜒的河流，漫步，聊天 | |
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insinuated
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| v.暗示( insinuate的过去式和过去分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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nefarious
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| adj.恶毒的，极坏的 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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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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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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imp
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| n.顽童 | |
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meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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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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cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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49
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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50
retract
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| vt.缩回，撤回收回，取消 | |
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51
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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52
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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53
forfeited
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
stratagem
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| n.诡计，计谋 | |
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55
persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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56
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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57
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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58
dreariness
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| 沉寂，可怕，凄凉 | |
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59
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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60
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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61
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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62
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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63
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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64
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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65
vex
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| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
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66
wading
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的现在分词 ) | |
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67
debtor
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| n.借方，债务人 | |
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68
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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