About an hour later he went up to his room. It was a fact that everything had been made right for him. The gas burned low. He raised it, and it shone directly upon the washstand, which glittered with the ivory glaze1 of large earthenware2, and the whiteness of towels that displayed all the creases3 of their folding. There was a new cake of soap in the ample soap-dish, and a new tooth-brush in a sheath of transparent4 paper lay on the marble. "Rather complete this!" he reflected. The nail-brush—an article in which he specialized—was worn, but it was worn evenly and had cost good money. The water-bottle dazzled him; its polished clarity was truly crystalline. He could not remember ever having seen a toilet array so shining with strict cleanness. Indeed, it was probable that he had never set eyes on an absolutely clean water-bottle before; the qualities associated with water-bottles in his memory were semi-opacity and spottiness.
The dressing-table matched the washstand. A carriage clock in leather had been placed on the mantelpiece. In front of the mantelpiece was an old embroidered5 fire-screen. Peeping between the screen and the grate, he saw that a fire had been scientifically laid, ready for lighting6; but some bits of paper and oddments on the top of the coal showed that it was not freshly laid. The grate had a hob at one side, and on this was a small, bright tin kettle. The bed was clearly a good bed, resilient, softly garnished7. On it was stretched a long, striped garment of flannel8, with old-fashioned pearl buttons at neck and sleeves. An honest garment, quite surely unshrinkable! No doubt in the sixties, long before the mind of man had leaped to the fine perverse9 conception of the decorated pyjama, this garment had enjoyed the fullest correctness. Now, after perhaps forty years in the cupboards of Mrs. Maldon, it seemed to recall the more excellent attributes of an already forgotten past, and to rebuke10 what was degenerate11 in the present.
Louis, ranging over his experiences in the disorderly and mean pretentiousness12 of the suburban13 home, and in the discomfort14 of various lodgings15, appreciated the grave, comfortable benignity16 of that bedroom. Its appeal to his senses was so strong that it became for him almost luxurious17. The bedroom at his latest lodgings was full of boot-trees and trouser-stretchers and coat-holders, but it was a paltry18 thing and a grimy. He saw the daily and hourly advantages of marriage with a loving, simple woman whose house was her pride. He had a longing19 for solidities, certitudes, and righteousness.
Musing20 delectably21, he drew aside the crimson22 curtain from the window and beheld23 the same prospect24 that Rachel had beheld on her walk towards Friendly Street—the obscurity of the park, the chain of lamps down the slope of Moorthorne Road, and the distant fires of industry still farther beyond, towards Toft End. He had hated the foul25, sordid26, ragged27 prospects28 and vistas29 of the Five Towns when he came new to them from London, and he had continued to hate them. They desolated30 him. But to-night he thought of them sympathetically. It was as if he was divining in them for the first time a recondite31 charm. He remembered what an old citizen named Dain had said one evening at the Conservative Club: "People may say what they choose about Bursley. I've just returned from London and I tell thee I was glad to get back. I like Bursley." A grotesque32 saying, he had thought, then. Yet now he positively33 felt himself capable of sharing the sentiment. Rachel in the kitchen, and the kitchen in town, and the town amid those scarred and smoking hillocks!... Invisible phenomena34! Mysterious harmonies! The influence of the night solaced35 and uplifted him and bestowed36 on him new faculties37 of perception.
At length, deciding, after characteristic procrastination38, that he must really go to bed, he wound up his watch and put it on the dressing-table. His pockets had to be emptied and his clothes hung or folded. His fingers touched the notes in the left-hand outside pocket of his coat. Not for one instant had the problem of the bank-notes been absent from his mind. Throughout the conversation with Rachel, throughout the interval39 between her retirement40 and his own, throughout his meditations41 in the bedroom, he had not once escaped from the obsession42 of the bank-notes and their problem. He knew now how the problem must be solved. There was, after all, only one solution, and it was extremely simple. He must put the notes back where he had found them, underneath43 the chair on the landing. If advisable, he might rediscover them in the morning and surrender them immediately. But they must not remain in his room during the night. He must not examine them—he must not look at them.
He approached the door quickly, lest he might never reach the door. But he was somehow forced to halt at the wardrobe, to see if it had coat-holders. It had one coat-holder.... His hand was on the door-knob. He turned it with every species of precaution—and it complained loudly in the still night. The door opened with a terrible explosive noise of protest. He gazed into the darkness of the landing, and presently, by the light from the bedroom, could distinguish the vague boundaries of it. The chair, invisible, was on the left. He opened the door wider to the nocturnal riddle44 of the house. His hand clasped the notes in his pocket. No sound! He listened for the ticking of the lobby clock and could not catch it. He listened more intently. It was impossible that he should not hear the ticking of the lobby clock. Was he dreaming? Was he under some delusion45? Then it occurred to him that the lobby clock must have run down or otherwise stopped. Clocks did stop.... And then his heart bounded and his flesh crept. He had heard footsteps somewhere below. Or were the footsteps merely in his imagination?
Alone in the parlour, after Rachel had gone to bed, he had spent some time in gazing at the Signal; for there had been absolutely nothing else to do, and he could not have thought of sleep at such an early hour. It is true that, with his intense preoccupations, he had for the most part gazed uncomprehendingly at the Signal. The tale of the latest burglaries, however, had by virtue47 of its intrinsic interest reached his brain through his eyes, and had impressed him, despite preoccupations. And now, as he stood in the gloom at the door of his bedroom and waited feverishly48 for the sound of more footsteps, it was inevitable49 that visions of burglars should disturb him.
The probability of burglars visiting any particular house in the town was infinitely50 slight—his common sense told him that. But supposing—just supposing that they actually had chosen his aunt's abode51 for their prey52!... Conceivably they had learnt that Mrs. Maldon was to have a large sum of money under her roof. Conceivably a complex plan had been carefully laid. Conceivably one of the great burglaries of criminal history might be in progress. It was not impossible. No wonder that, with bank-notes loose all over the place, his shockingly negligent53 auntie should have special qualms54 concerning burglars on that night of all nights! Fortunate indeed that he carried a revolver, that the revolver was loaded, and that he had some skill to use it! A dramatic surprise—his gun and the man behind it—for burglars who had no doubt counted on having to deal with a mere46 couple of women! He had but to remove his shoes and creep down the stairs. He felt at the revolver in his pocket. Often had he pictured himself in the act of calmly triumphing over burglars or other villains55.
Then, with no further hesitation56, he silently closed the door—on the inside!... How could there be burglars in the house? The suspicion was folly57. What he had heard could be naught58 but the nocturnal cracking and yielding of an old building at night. Was it not notorious that the night was full of noises? And even if burglars had entered!... Better, safer, to ignore them! They could not make off with a great deal, for the main item of prey happened to be in his own pocket. Let them search for the treasure! If they had the effrontery59 to come searching in his bedroom, he would give them a reception! Let them try! He looked at the revolver, holding it beneath the gas. Could he aim it at a human being?...
Or—another explanation—possibly Rachel, having forgotten something or having need of something, had gone downstairs for it. He had not thought of that. But what more natural? Sudden toothache—a desire for laudanum—a visit to a store cupboard: such was the classic order of events.
He listened, secure within the four walls of his bedroom. He smiled. He could have fancied that he heard an electric bell ring ever so faintly at a distance—in the next house, in the next world.
He laughed to himself.
Then at length he moved again towards the door; and he paused in front of it. There were no burglars! The notion of burglars was idiotic60! He must put the notes back under the chair. His whole salvation61 depended upon his putting the notes back under the chair on the landing!... An affair of two seconds!... With due caution he opened the door. And simultaneously62, at the very selfsame instant, he most distinctly heard the click of the latch63 of his aunt's bedroom door, next his own! Now, in a horrible quandary64, trembling and perspiring65, he felt completely nonplussed66. He pushed his own door to, but without quite closing it, for fear of a noise; and edged away from it towards the fireplace.
Had his aunt wakened up, and felt a misgiving67 about the notes, and found that they were not where they ought to be?
No further sound came though the crack of his door. In the dwelling68 absolute silence seemed to be established. He stood thus for an indefinite period in front of the fireplace, the brain's action apparently69 suspended, until his agitation70 was somewhat composed. And then, because he had no clear plan in his head, he put his hand into the pocket containing the notes and drew them out. And immediately he was aware of a pleasant feeling of relief, as one who, after battling against a delicious and shameful71 habit, yields and is glad. The beauty of the notes was eternal; no use could stale it. Their intoxicating72 effect on him was just as powerful now as before supper. And now, as then, the mere sight of them filled him with a passionate73 conviction that without them he would be ruined. His tricks to destroy the suspicions of Horrocleave could not possibly be successful. Within twenty-four hours he might be in prison if he could not forthwith command a certain sum of money. And even possessing the money, he would still have an extremely difficult part to play. It would be necessary for him to arrive early at the works, to change notes for gold in the safe, to erase74 many of his pencilled false additions, to devise a postponement75 of his crucial scene with Horrocleave, and lastly to invent a plausible76 explanation of the piling up of a cash reserve.
If he had not been optimistic and an incurable77 procrastinator78 and a believer in luck at the last moment, he would have seen that nothing but a miracle could save him if Horrocleave were indeed suspicious. Happily for his peace of mind, he was incapable79 of looking a fact in the face. Against all reason he insisted to himself that with the notes he might reach salvation. He did not trouble even to estimate the chances of the notes being traced by their numbers. Such is the magic force of a weak character.
But he powerfully desired not to steal the notes, or any of them. The image of Rachel rose between him and his temptation. Her honesty, candour, loyalty80, had revealed to him the beauty of the ways of righteousness. He had been born again in her glance. He swore he would do nothing unworthy of the ideal she had unconsciously set up in him. He admitted that it was supremely81 essential for him to restore the notes to the spot whence he had removed them.... And yet—if he did so, and was lost? What then? For one second he saw himself in the dock at the police-court in the town hall. Awful hallucination! If it became reality, what use, then, his obedience82 to the new ideal? Better to accomplish this one act of treason to the ideal in order to be able for ever afterwards to obey it and to look Rachel in the eyes! Was it not so? He wanted advice, he wanted to be confirmed in his own opportunism, as a starving beggar may want food.
And in the midst of all this torture of his vacillations, he was staggered and overwhelmed by the sudden noise of Mrs. Maldon's door brusquely opening, and of an instant loud, firm knock on his own door. The silence of the night was shattered as by an earthquake.
Almost mechanically he crushed the notes in his left hand—crushed them into a ball; and the knuckles83 of that hand turned white with the muscular tension.
"Are you up?" a voice demanded. It was Rachel's voice.
"Ye-es," he answered, and held his left hand over the screen in front of the fireplace.
"May I come in?"
And with the word she came in. She was summarily dressed, and very pale, and her hair, more notable than ever, was down. As she entered he opened his hand and let the ball of notes drop into the littered grate.
V
"Anything the matter?" he asked, moving away from the region of the hearth-rug.
She glanced at him with a kind of mild indulgence, as if to say: "Surely you don't suppose I should be wandering about in the night like this if nothing was the matter!"
She replied, speaking quickly and eagerly—"I'm so glad you aren't in bed. I want you to go and fetch the doctor—at once."
"Auntie ill?"
She gave him another glance like the first, as if to say: "I'm not ill, and you aren't. And Mrs. Maldon is the only other person in the house—"
"I'll go instantly," he added in haste. "Which doctor?"
"Yardley in Park Road. It's near the corner of Axe84 Street. You'll know it by the yellow gate—even if his lamp isn't lighted."
"I thought old Hawley up at Hillport was auntie's doctor."
"I believe he is, but you couldn't get up to Hillport in less than half an hour, could you?"
"Not so serious as all that, is it?"
"Well, you never know. Best to be on the safe side. It's not quite like one of her usual attacks. She's been upset. She actually went downstairs."
"I thought I heard somebody. Did you hear her, then?"
"No, she rang for me afterwards. There's a little electric bell over my bed, from her room."
"And I heard that too," said Louis.
"Will you ask Dr. Yardley to come at once?"
"I'm off," said he. "What a good thing I wasn't in bed!"
"What a good thing you're here at all!" Rachel murmured, suddenly smiling.
He was waiting anxiously for her to leave the room again. But instead of leaving it she came to the fireplace and looked behind the screen. He trembled.
"Oh! That kettle is there! I thought it must be!" And picked it up.
Then, with the kettle in one hand, she went to a large cupboard let into the wall opposite the door, and opened it.
"You know Park Road, I suppose?" she turned to him.
"Yes, yes, I'm off!"
He was obliged to go, surrendering the room to her. As he descended85 the stairs he heard her come out of the room. She was following him downstairs. "Don't bang the door," she whispered. "I'll come and shut it after you."
The next moment he had undone86 the door and was down the front steps and in the solitude87 of Bycars Lane. He ran up the street, full of the one desire to accomplish his errand and be back again in the spare bedroom alone. The notes were utterly88 safe where they lay, and yet—astounding events might happen. Was it not a unique coincidence that on this very night and no other his aunt should fall ill, and that as a result Rachel should take him unawares at the worst moment of his dilemma89? And further, could it be the actual fact, as he had been wildly guessing only a few minutes earlier, that his aunt had at last missed the notes? Could it be that it was this discovery which had upset her and brought on an attack?... An attack of what?
He swerved90 at the double into Park Road, which was a silent desert watched over by forlorn gaslamps. He saw the yellow gate. The yellow gate clanked after him. He searched in the deep shadow of the porch for the button of the night bell, and had to strike a match in order to find it. He rang; waited and waited, rang again; waited; rang a third time, keeping his finger hard on the button. Then arose and expired a flickering91 light in the hall of the house.
"That'll do! That'll do! You needn't wear the bell out." He could hear the irritated accents through the glazed92 front door.
A dim figure in a dressing-gown opened.
"Oh!" said the dressing-gown in a changed, interested tone. "Mrs. Maldon's! Right. I'll follow you."
"You'll come at once?" Louis urged.
"I shall come at once."
"So that's how you call a doctor in the middle of the night!" thought Louis, and ran off. He had scarcely deciphered the man's face.
The return, being chiefly downhill, was less exhausting. As he approached his aunt's house he saw that there was a light on the ground floor as well as in the front bedroom. The door opened as he swung the gate. The lobby gas had been lighted. Rachel was waiting for him. Her hair was tied up now. The girl looked wise, absurdly so. It was as though she was engaged in the act of being equal to the terrible occasion.
"He's coming," said Louis.
"You've been frightfully quick!" said she, as if triumphantly100. She appeared to glory in the crisis.
He passed within as she held the door. He was frantic101 to rush upstairs to the fireplace in his room; but he had to seem deliberate.
"And what next?" he inquired.
"Well, nothing. It'll be best for you to sit in your bedroom for a bit. That's the only place where there's a fire—and it's rather chilly102 at this time of night."
"A fire?" he repeated, incredulous and yet awe-struck.
"I knew you wouldn't mind," said she. "It just happened there wasn't two drops of methylated spirits left in the house, and as there was a fire laid in your room, I put a match to it. I must have hot water ready, you see. And Mrs. Maldon only has one of those old-fashioned gas-stoves in her bedroom—"
"I see," he agreed.
They mounted the steps together. The grate in his room was a mass of pleasant flames, in the midst of which gleamed the bright kettle.
"How is she now?" He asked in a trance. And he felt as though it was another man in his own body who was asking.
"Oh! It's not very serious, I hope," said Rachel, kneeling to coax103 the fire with a short, wiry poker104. "Only you never know. I'm just going in again.... She seems to lose all her vitality—that's what's apt to frighten you."
The girl looked wise—absurdly, deliciously wise. The spectacle of her engaged in the high act of being equal to the occasion was exquisite105. But Louis had no eye for it.
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1
glaze
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| v.因疲倦、疲劳等指眼睛变得呆滞，毫无表情 | |
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earthenware
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| n.土器，陶器 | |
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creases
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的第三人称单数 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹 | |
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4
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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7
garnished
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| v.给（上餐桌的食物）加装饰( garnish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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pretentiousness
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| n.矫饰；炫耀；自负；狂妄 | |
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suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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benignity
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| n.仁慈 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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paltry
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| adj.无价值的，微不足道的 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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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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delectably
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| 令人愉快的，让人喜爱的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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vistas
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| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
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desolated
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| adj.荒凉的，荒废的 | |
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recondite
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| adj.深奥的，难解的 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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solaced
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| v.安慰，慰藉( solace的过去分词 ) | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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procrastination
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| n.拖延，耽搁 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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obsession
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| n.困扰，无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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45
delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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48
feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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50
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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51
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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52
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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53
negligent
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| adj.疏忽的；玩忽的；粗心大意的 | |
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54
qualms
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| n.不安；内疚 | |
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55
villains
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| n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 )；罪犯；（小说、戏剧等中的）反面人物；淘气鬼 | |
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56
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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57
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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effrontery
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| n.厚颜无耻 | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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quandary
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| n.困惑，进迟两难之境 | |
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perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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nonplussed
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| adj.不知所措的，陷于窘境的v.使迷惑( nonplus的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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misgiving
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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erase
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| v.擦掉；消除某事物的痕迹 | |
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postponement
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| n.推迟 | |
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plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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incurable
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| adj.不能医治的，不能矫正的，无救的；n.不治的病人，无救的人 | |
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procrastinator
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| n. 拖延者, 拖拉者, 因循者 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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dilemma
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| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
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swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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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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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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persuasively
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| adv.口才好地；令人信服地 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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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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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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coax
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| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
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poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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