On a very wet evening in June a young man in a high dogcart was driving up the glen. A deer-stalker’s cap was tied down over his ears, and the collar of a great white waterproof6 defended his neck. A cheerful bronzed face was shadowed by the peak of his cap, and two very keen grey eyes peered out into the mist. He was driving with tight rein7, for the mare8 was fresh and the road had awkward slopes and corners; but none the less he was dreaming, thinking pleasant thoughts, and now and then looking cheerily at the ribs9 of hill which at times were cleared of mist. His clean-shaven face was wet and shining with the drizzle10, pools formed on the floor of the cart, and the mare’s flanks were plastered with the weather.
Suddenly he drew up sharp at the sight of a figure by the roadside.
“Hullo, Doctor Gracey,” he cried, “where on earth have you come from? Come in and I’ll give you a lift.”
The figure advanced and scrambled11 into the vacant seat. It was a little old man in a big topcoat with a quaint12-fashioned wide-awake hat on his head. In ill weather all distinctions are swept away. The stranger might have been a statesman or a tramp.
“It is a pleasure to see you, Doctor,” and the young man grasped a mittened13 hand and looked into his companion’s face. There was something both kindly14 and mirthful in his grey eyes.
The old man arranged his seat comfortably, buttoned another button at the neck of the coat, and then scrutinised the driver. “It’s four years—four years in October since I last cast eyes on you, Lewie, my boy,” he said. “I heard you were coming, so I refused a lift from Haystounslacks and the minister. Haystounslacks was driving from Gledsmuir, and unless the Lord protects him he will be in Avelin water ere he gets home. Whisky and a Glenavelin road never agree, Lewie, as I who have mended the fool’s head a dozen times should know. But I thought you would never come, and was prepared to ride in the next baker’s van.” The Doctor spoke15 with the pure English and high northern voice of an old school of professional men, whose tongue, save in telling a story, knew not the vernacular16, and yet in its pitch and accent inevitably17 betrayed their birthplace. Precise in speech and dress, uncommonly18 skilful19, a mild humorist, and old in the world’s wisdom, he had gone down the evening way of life with the heart of a boy.
“I was delayed—I could not help it, though I was all afternoon at the job,” said the young man. “I’ve seen a dozen and more tenants20 and I talked sheep and drains till I got out of my depth and was gravely corrected. It’s the most hospitable21 place on earth, this, but I thought it a pity to waste a really fine hunger on the inevitable22 ham and eggs, so I waited for dinner. Lord, I have an appetite! Come and dine, Doctor. I am in solitary23 state just now, and long, wet evenings are dreary24.”
“I’m afraid I must excuse myself, Lewie,” was the formal answer, with just a touch of reproof25. Dinner to Doctor Gracey was a serious ceremony, and invitations should not be scattered26 rashly. “My housekeeper’s wrath27 is not to be trifled with, as you should know.”
“I do,” said the young man in a tone of decent melancholy28. “She once cuffed29 my ears the month I stayed with you for falling in the burn. Does she beat you, Doctor?”
“Indeed, no,” said the little old gentleman; “not as yet. But physically30 she is my superior and I live in terror.” Then abruptly31, “For heaven’s sake, Lewie, mind the mare.”
“It’s all right,” said the driver, as the dogcart swung neatly32 round an ugly turn. “There’s the mist going off the top of Etterick Law, and—why, that’s the end of the Dreichill?”
“It’s the Dreichill, and beyond it is the Little Muneraw. Are you glad to be home, Lewie?”
“Rather,” said the young man gravely. “This is my own countryside, and I fancy it’s the last place a man forgets.”
“I fancy so—with right-thinking people. By the way, I have much to congratulate you on. We old fogies in this desert place have been often seeing your name in the newspapers lately. You are a most experienced traveller.”
“Fair. But people made a great deal more of that than it deserved. It was very simple, and I had every chance. Some day I will go out and do the same thing again with no advantages, and if I come back you may praise me then.”
“Right, Lewie. A bare game and no chances is the rule of war. And now, what will you do?”
“Settle down,” said the young man with mock pathos33, “which in my case means settling up also. I suppose it is what you would call the crucial moment in my life. I am going in for politics, as I always intended, and for the rest I shall live a quiet country life at Etterick. I’ve a wonderful talent for rusticity34.”
The Doctor shot an inquiring glance from beneath the flaps of his hat. “I never can make up my mind about you, Lewie.”
“I daresay not. It is long since I gave up trying to make up my mind about myself.”
“When you were a very small and very bad boy I made the usual prophecy that you would make a spoon or spoil a horn. Later I declared you would make the spoon. I still keep to that opinion, but I wish to goodness I knew what shape your spoon would take.”
“Ornamental, Doctor, some odd fancy spoon, but not useful. I feel an inner lack of usefulness.”
“Humph! Then things are serious, Lewie, and I, as your elder, should give advice; but confound it, my dear, I cannot think what it should be. Life has been too easy for you, a great deal too easy. You want a little of the salt and iron of the world. You are too clever ever to be conceited36, and you are too good a fellow ever to be a fool, but apart from these sad alternatives there are numerous middle stages which are not very happy.”
“You are old and wise, Doctor. Have you any cure for a man with sufficient money and no immediate39 profession to prevent stagnation40?”
“None,” said the Doctor; “but the man himself can find many. The chief is that he be conscious of his danger, and on the watch against it. As a last expedient41 I should recommend a second course of travel.”
“No, Lewie lad, but you must be kept, as you say, ‘up to scratch,’” and the old face smiled. “You are too good to waste. You Haystouns are high-strung, finicking people, on whom idleness sits badly. Also you are the last of your race and have responsibilities. You must remember I was your father’s friend, and knew you all well.”
At the mention of his father the young man’s interest quickened.
“I must have been only about six years old when he died. I find so few people who remember him well and can tell me about him.”
“You are very like him, Lewie. He began nearly as well as you; but he settled down into a quiet life, which was the very thing for which he was least fitted. I do not know if he had altogether a happy time. He lost interest in things, and grew shy and rather irritable43. He quarrelled with most of his neighbours, and got into a trick of magnifying little troubles till he shrank from the slightest discomfort44.”
“And my mother?”
“Ah, your mother was different—a cheery, brave woman. While she lived she kept him in some measure of self-confidence, but you know she died at your birth, Lewie, and after that he grew morose45 and retiring. I speak about these things from the point of view of my profession, and I fancy it is the special disease which lies in your blood. You have all been over-cultured and enervated46; as I say, you want some of the salt and iron of life.”
The young man’s brow was furrowed47 in a deep frown which in no way broke the good-humour of his face. They were nearing a cluster of houses, the last clachan of sorts in the glen, where a kirk steeple in a grove48 of trees proclaimed civilization. A shepherd passed them with a couple of dogs, striding with masterful step towards home and comfort. The cheery glow of firelight from the windows pleased both men as they were whirled through the raw weather.
“There, you see,” said the Doctor, nodding his head towards the retreating figure; “there’s a man who in his own way knows the secret of life. Most of his days are spent in dreary, monotonous49 toil50. He is for ever wrestling with the weather and getting scorched51 and frozen, and the result is that the sparse52 enjoyments53 of his life are relished54 with a rare gusto. He sucks his pipe of an evening with a zest55 which the man who lies on his back all day smoking knows nothing about. So, too, the labourer who hoes turnips56 for one and sixpence the day. They know the arduousness57 of life, which is a lesson we must all learn sooner or later. You people who have been coddled and petted must learn it, too; and for you it is harder to learn, but pleasanter in the learning, because you stand above the bare need of things, and have leisure for the adornments. We must all be fighters and strugglers, Lewie, and it is better to wear out than to rust35 out. It is bad to let choice things become easily familiar; for, you know, familiarity is apt to beget58 a proverbial offspring.”
The young man had listened attentively59, but suddenly he leaned from the seat and with a dexterous60 twitch61 of his whip curled it round the leg of a boy of sixteen who stood before a cottage.
“Hullo, Jock,” he cried. “When are you coming up to see me? Bring your brother some day and we’ll go and fish the Midburn.” The urchin62 pulled off a ragged63 cap and grinned with pleasure.
“That’s the boy you pulled out of the Avelin?” asked the Doctor. “I had heard of that performance. It was a good introduction to your home-coming.”
“It was nothing,” said the young man, flushing slightly. “I was crossing the ford64 and the stream was up a bit. The boy was fishing, wading65 pretty deep, and in turning round to stare at me he slipped and was carried down. I merely rode my horse out and collared him. There was no danger.”
“And the Black Linn just below,” said the Doctor, incredulously. “You have got the usual modesty66 of the brave man, Lewie.”
“It was a very small thing. My horse knew its business—that was all.” And he flicked67 nervously68 with the whip.
A grey house among trees rose on the left with a quaint gateway69 of unhewn stone. The dogcart pulled up, and the Doctor scrambled down and stood shaking the rain from his hat and collar. He watched the young man till, with a skilful turn, he had entered Etterick gates, and then with a more meditative70 face than is usual in a hungry man he went through the trees to his own dwelling.
该作者的其它作品
《Greenmantle绿斗篷》
《Mr. Standfast》
《No man's land》
该作者的其它作品
《Greenmantle绿斗篷》
《Mr. Standfast》
《No man's land》
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1
solitudes
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| n.独居( solitude的名词复数 )；孤独；荒僻的地方；人迹罕至的地方 | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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waterproof
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| n.防水材料；adj.防水的；v.使...能防水 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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10
drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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11
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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12
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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13
mittened
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| v.（使）变得潮湿，变得湿润( moisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
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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15
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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16
vernacular
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| adj.地方的，用地方语写成的；n.白话；行话；本国语；动植物的俗名 | |
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17
inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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19
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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21
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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23
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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24
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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25
reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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26
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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27
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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28
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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29
cuffed
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| v.掌打，拳打( cuff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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33
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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34
rusticity
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| n.乡村的特点、风格或气息 | |
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rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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36
conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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37
lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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39
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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40
stagnation
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| n. 停滞 | |
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41
expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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42
bogey
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| n.令人谈之变色之物；妖怪，幽灵 | |
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43
irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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44
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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45
morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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46
enervated
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| adj.衰弱的，无力的v.使衰弱，使失去活力( enervate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
furrowed
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| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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49
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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50
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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51
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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52
sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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53
enjoyments
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| 愉快( enjoyment的名词复数 )； 令人愉快的事物； 享有； 享受 | |
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54
relished
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| v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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55
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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56
turnips
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| 芜青( turnip的名词复数 )； 芜菁块根； 芜菁甘蓝块根； 怀表 | |
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57
arduousness
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| 艰难，艰苦，奋斗 | |
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58
beget
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| v.引起；产生 | |
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59
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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60
dexterous
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| adj.灵敏的；灵巧的 | |
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61
twitch
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| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
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62
urchin
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| n.顽童；海胆 | |
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63
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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64
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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65
wading
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的现在分词 ) | |
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66
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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67
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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68
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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69
gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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70
meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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