Footsteps crunched8 on the gravel9 beneath his window, voices rose like invisible birds, and the sun shone deep into the room. “It must be very late,” he thought, glancing at his watch. But the hands pointed10 to midnight. In the excitement of the day before he had forgotten to wind it up. This uncertainty11, this hanging suspended in time, disturbed him, and his sense of disgust was increased by his confusion of mind as to what had actually occurred. He dressed quickly and went downstairs, a vague sense of guilt12 in his heart.
In the breakfast-room his mother was sitting at their usual table, alone. Thank goodness, his enemy was not present. Edgar would not have to look upon that hateful face of his. And yet, as he went to the table, he was by no means sure of himself.
“Good morning,” he said.
His mother made no reply, nor even so much as glanced up, but kept her eyes fixed13 in a peculiarly rigid14 stare on the view from the window. She looked very pale, her eyes were red-rimmed, and there was that quivering of her nostrils15 which told so plainly how wrought16 up she was. Edgar bit his lips. Her silence bewildered him. He really did not know whether he had hurt the baron17 very much or whether his mother had any knowledge at all of their encounter. The uncertainty plagued him. But her face remained so rigid that he did not even attempt to look up for fear that her eyes, now hidden behind lowered lids, might suddenly raise their curtains and pop out at him. He sat very still, not daring to make the faintest sound, and raising the cup to his lips and putting it back on the saucer with the utmost caution, and casting furtive18 glances, from time to time, at his mother’s fingers, which played with her spoon nervously19 and seemed, in the way they were bent20, to show a secret anger.
For a full quarter of an hour he sat at the table in an oppressive expectancy21 of something that never came. Not a single word from her to relieve his tension. And now as his mother rose, still without any sign of having noticed his presence, he did not know what to do, whether to remain sitting at the table or to go with her. He decided22 upon the latter, and followed humbly23, though conscious how ridiculous was his shadowing of her now. He reduced his steps so as to fall behind, and she, still studiously refraining from noticing him, went to her room. When Edgar reached her door he found it locked.
What had happened? He was at his wits’ end. His assurance of the day before had deserted24 him. Had he done wrong, after all, in attacking the baron? And were they preparing a punishment for him or a fresh humiliation25? Something must happen, he was positive, something dreadful, very soon.
Upon him and his mother lay the sultriness of a brewing26 tempest. They were like two electrified27 poles that would have to discharge themselves in a flash. And for four solitary28 hours the child dragged round with him, from room to room, the burden of this premonition, until his thin little neck bent under the invisible yoke29, and by midday it was a very humble30 little fellow that took his seat at table.
“How do you do?” he ventured again, feeling he had to rend31 this silence, ominous32 as a great black storm cloud. But still his mother made no response, keeping her gaze fixed beyond him.
Edgar, in renewed alarm, felt he was in the presence of a calculated, concentrated anger such as he had never before encountered. Until then his mother’s scoldings had been outbursts of nervousness rather than of ill feeling and soon melted into a mollifying smile. This time, however, he had, as he sensed, brought to the surface a wild emotion from the deeps of her being, and this powerful something that he had evoked33 terrified him. He scarcely dared to eat. His throat was parched34 and knotted into a lump.
His mother seemed not to notice what was passing in her son, but when she got up she turned, with a casual air, and said:
“Come up to my room afterwards, Edgar, I have something to say to you.”
Her tone was not threatening, but so icy that Edgar felt as though each word were like a link in an iron chain being laid round his neck. His defiance35 had been crushed out of him. Silently, with a hang-dog air, he followed her up to her room.
In the room she prolonged his agony by saying nothing for several minutes, during which he heard the striking of the clock, and outside a child laughing, and within his own breast his heart beating like a trip-hammer. Yet she, too, could not be feeling so very confident of herself either, because she kept her eyes averted36 and even turned her back while speaking to him.
“I shall say nothing to you about the way you behaved yesterday. It was unpardonable, and it makes me feel ashamed to think of it. You have to suffer the consequences now of your own conduct. All I mean to say to you is that this is the last time you will be allowed to associate with your elders. I have just written to your father that either you must be put under a tutor or sent to a boarding-school where you will be taught manners. I sha’n’t be bothered with you any more.”
Edgar stood with bowed head, feeling that this was only the preliminary, a threat of the real thing coming, and he waited uneasily for the sequel.
“You will ask the baron’s pardon.” Edgar gave a start, but his mother would not be interrupted. “The baron left to-day, and you will write him a letter which I shall dictate37.” Edgar again made a movement, which his mother firmly disregarded. “No protestations. Here is the paper, and here are the pen and the ink. Sit down.”
Edgar looked up. Her eyes were steely with an inflexible38 determination. This hardness and composure in his mother were quite new and strange. He was frightened, and seated himself at the desk, keeping his face bent low.
“The date—upper right-hand corner. Have you written it? Space. Dear Sir, colon39. Next line. I have just learned to my regret—got that?—to my regret that you have already left Summering. Two m’s in Summering. And so I must do by letter what I had intended to do in person, that is—faster, Edgar, you don’t have to draw each letter—beg your pardon for what I did yesterday. As my mother told you, I am just convalescing40 from a severe illness and am very excitable. On account of my condition, I often exaggerate things and the next moment I am sorry for it.”
The back bent over the desk straightened up. Edgar turned in a flash. His defiance had leapt into life again.
“I will not write that. It isn’t true.”
“Edgar!”
“It is not true. I haven’t done anything that I should be sorry for. I haven’t done anything bad that I need ask anybody’s pardon for. I simply came to your rescue when you called for help.”
Every drop of blood left her lips, her nostrils widened.
“I called for help? You’re crazy.”
Edgar got angry and jumped up from his chair.
“Yes, you did call for help, in the corridor, when he caught hold of you. You said, ‘Let me go, let me go,’ so loud that I heard it in my room.”
“You lie. I never was in the corridor with the baron. He went with me only as far as the foot of the stairs——”
Edgar’s heart stood still at the barefacedness of the lie. He stared at her with glassy eyeballs, and cried in a voice thick and husky with passion:
“You—were not—in the hall? And he—he did not have his arm round you?”
She laughed a cold, dry laugh.
“You were dreaming.”
That was too much. The child, by this time, knew that adults lie and resort to impudent41 little evasions42, lies that slip through fine sieves43, and cunning ambiguities44. But this downright denial of an absolute fact, face to face, threw him into a frenzy45.
“Dreaming, was I? Did I dream this bump on my forehead, too?”
“How do I know whom you’ve been rowdying with? But I am not going to argue with you. You are to obey orders. That’s all. Sit down and finish the letter.” She was very pale and was summoning all her strength to keep on her feet.
In Edgar, a last tiny flame of credulity went out. To tread on the truth and extinguish it as one would a burning match was more than he could stomach. His insides congealed46 in an icy lump, and everything he now said was in a tone of unrestrained, pointed maliciousness47.
“So I dreamed what I saw in the hall, did I? I dreamed this bump on my forehead, and that you two went walking in the moonlight and he wanted to make you go down the dark path into the valley? I dreamed all that, did I? What do you think, that I am going to let myself be locked up like a baby? No, I am not so stupid as you think. I know what I know.”
He stared into her face impudently48. To see her child’s face close to her own distorted by hate broke her down completely. Her passion flooded over in a tidal wave.
“Sit down and write that letter, or——”
“Or I’ll give you a whipping like a little child.”
Edgar drew close to her and merely laughed sardonically50.
With that her hand was out and had struck his face. Edgar gave a little outcry, and, like a drowning man, with a dull rushing in his ears and flickerings in his eyes, he struck out blindly with both fists. He felt he encountered something soft, a face, heard a cry....
The cry brought him to his senses. Suddenly he saw himself and his monstrous51 act—he had struck his own mother.
A dreadful terror came upon him, shame and horror, an impetuous need to get away seized him, to sink into the earth; he wanted to fly far away, far away from those eyes that were upon him. He made for the door and in an instant was gone, down the stairs, through the lobby, out on the road. Away, away, as though a pack of ravening52 beasts were at his heels.
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1
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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2
rumpled
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| v.弄皱，使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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elongated
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| v.延长，加长( elongate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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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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7
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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8
crunched
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的过去式和过去分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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9
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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13
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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14
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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15
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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16
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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17
baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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18
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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19
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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20
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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21
expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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22
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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23
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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24
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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25
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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26
brewing
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| n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
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27
electrified
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| v.使电气化( electrify的过去式和过去分词 )；使兴奋 | |
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28
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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29
yoke
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| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
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30
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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31
rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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32
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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33
evoked
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| [医]诱发的 | |
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34
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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35
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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36
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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37
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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38
inflexible
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| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
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39
colon
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| n.冒号，结肠，直肠 | |
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40
convalescing
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| v.康复( convalesce的现在分词 ) | |
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41
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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42
evasions
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| 逃避( evasion的名词复数 )； 回避； 遁辞； 借口 | |
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43
sieves
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| 筛，漏勺( sieve的名词复数 ) | |
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44
ambiguities
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| n.歧义( ambiguity的名词复数 )；意义不明确；模棱两可的意思；模棱两可的话 | |
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45
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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46
congealed
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| v.使凝结，冻结( congeal的过去式和过去分词 )；（指血）凝结 | |
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47
maliciousness
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| [法] 恶意 | |
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48
impudently
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49
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
sardonically
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| adv.讽刺地，冷嘲地 | |
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51
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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52
ravening
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| a.贪婪而饥饿的 | |
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