The flatness of his voice, the pallor of his face, startled Hilary and Peggy.
Peggy said, "You're tired to death, child. Take the big chair."
Hilary said, "How do you mean, no use?"
And Peter told him. While he did so, he stood at the window, looking down at the canal between the green shutters2 that swung ajar, and did not look at Hilary's face.
It was an impossible position for Hilary, so utterly3 impossible that it was no use trying to make the best of it; one could only look away, and get through it quickly.
Peter didn't say much. He only said, "We've been found out. That man who came to you this afternoon was a spy sent by Cheriton. He reported the result of his interview with you, and Lord Evelyn knows all about everything. Cheriton suspected from the first, you see.... From what Lord Evelyn said, I gather he means to prosecute4.... He is ... very angry indeed.... They all are...."
On the last statement Peter's voice sank a little in pitch, so that they hardly heard it. But the last statement mattered to no one but Peter.
Hilary had got up sharply at the first words, and stood very still to listen, letting out one long breath of weary despair. Peggy came and stood close to him, and took one slim white hand in her large kind ones, and gently held it. The fat was indeed in the fire. Poor old Hilary! How he would feel it! Peggy divined that what stung Hilary most deeply at the moment was Peter's discovery of his faithlessness.
It was of that that his first shamed, incoherent words were.
"What was I to do? How could I break abruptly5 with the old methods, as you suggested? It had to come gradually. You know nothing of business, Peter—nothing." His voice ran up the scale of protesting self-defence.
"Nothing," Peter admitted drearily6. Hilary's shame before him could hardly now add to the badness of the situation, as it had once done; the badness of situations has a limit, and this one had reached its limit some three hours since, just before he had laughed in Lord Evelyn's drawing-room.
"Oh," said Peter, very tired suddenly, "never mind me; what does that matter? The point is ... well, you see the point, naturally."
Yes, Hilary saw the point. With a faint groan7 he ran his fingers through his hair and began to pace up and down the room in agitation8.
He said, "That brute9 Cheriton.... An execrable bounder; I always knew it. What right had he?... It's too horrible, too abominable10.... Just when we were doing our best to get the thing onto straight lines...." He wheeled about and paced back again, with quick, uneven11 steps. Between him and the motionless Peter, Peggy stood, looking from one to the other. Her merry eyes were quite grave now. The situation was certainly appalling12.
"We must leave Venice," said Peggy, on a sigh. That seemed, certainly, the only thing to be done.
"Oh, Lord, what are we let in for? What will be the result, if he prosecutes14? It may be utter ruin.... I know nothing of these things. Of course, in justice nothing could be done to us—for, after all, what harm have we done? Anyone may insert advertisements for pay, and it only amounted to that.... But justice isn't taken into much account in the law-courts.... It is a horrible, cast-iron system—the relic15 of a barbarous age.... I don't know what we mayn't be in for, or how we shall come out of it. You don't know either, Peter; you know nothing of law—nothing. It mustn't come into court; that is unthinkable. We will make full apologies—any restitution16 within our power that Lord Evelyn demands.... I shall go there; I shall see him about it, and appeal to his better feelings. He has been a friend of mine. He has always been good to you, Peter. The memory of your mother.... Appeal to that. You must go to him and see what can be done. Yes, it had better be you; he has a kinder feeling for you, I believe, than for me."
"He has no kind feeling for me," said Peter dully. "He is more annoyed with me than with you."
Hilary jerked his head impatiently.
"Nonsense. You want to shirk; you want to leave me to get out of the mess for myself. Oh, of course, you're not legally involved; I am aware of that; you can leave the sinking ship if you choose, and save yourself."
Peggy said, "Don't be ridiculous, darling. Peter's doing his best for us, as he always has," and came and stood at her brother-in-law's side, kind and big and comforting, with a hand on his arm.
Hilary went on querulously, "I'm asking Peter to do a simple thing—to use his friendship with the Urquharts to help me out of this mess. If you don't want to see Lord Evelyn, Peter, you can go to Denis. He's a friend of yours; he's—he's your kind of step-brother. You can easily persuade him to get the thing hushed up. You've always pretended that he was a friend of yours. Go and see him, then, for heaven's sake, and help us all out of this miserable18 predicament."
Peter was still silent, staring down at the dark ribbon of shining water that lapped against two old brick walls, a shut lane full of stars.
Peggy, her hand on his arm, said gently, "Oh, Peter'll do his best for us, of course he will, won't you, Peter."
Peter sighed very faintly into the dark night.
"I will do anything I can, naturally. It won't be much, you know."
"You will go to the Urquharts to-morrow morning, and appeal to them?" said Hilary.
"Yes," said Peter. "I will do that."
Hilary breathed a sigh of relief, and flung himself into a chair.
"Thanks, Peter. I believe that is the best we can do. You will persuade them at least to be just, not to push the matter to unfair extremes.... Oh, my God, what a life!" His beautiful, unhappy face was hidden in his hands; he shuddered19 from head to foot, feeling horribly sick. The Margerison organism was sensitive.
Peggy, bending over him, drew caressing20 fingers through his dark hair and said, "Go to bed, you poor old dear, and don't worry any more to-night. Worry won't help now, will it?"
"Bed?" said Hilary. "Bed? What's the use of that? I shouldn't sleep a wink21. I have a frightful22 head, and I must go and find Vyvian and tell him."
Peggy sniffed23. "Much Vyvian'll care! He's been in bad odour all his life, I should fancy. One more row won't bother him much. I wish it would; it would be almost worth while to be upset if Guy Vyvian was going to be upset too—the waster. Well, I wonder anyhow will this show that silly little Rhoda what sort of a creature she's been making a golden calf24 of.... Well, go and wake Vyvian, then, darling, and then come and tell me what he said to it. Peter, you're dropping to sleep as you stand."
Peter went to bed. There didn't seem to be anything to stay up for, and bed is a comforting friend on these occasions. Hilary had a perverse25 tendency to sit up all night when the worst had happened and he had a frightful head; Peter's way with life was more amenable26; he always took what comfort was offered him. Bed is a good place; it folds protecting, consoling arms about you, and gives at best oblivion, at worst a blessed immunity27 from action.
In the morning, about eleven o'clock, Peter went to the Ca' delle Gemme. That had to be done, so it was no use delaying. He asked for Lord Evelyn Urquhart, and supposed that the servant who showed him in was astonished at his impudence28. However, he was permitted to wait in the reception-room while the servant went to acquaint Lord Evelyn with his presence. He waited some time, standing29 in the middle of the big room, looking at some splinters of glass and china which had been left on the marble floor, forming on his tongue what he was going to say. He could form nothing that was easy to say; honestly he didn't know whether, when the door should open and that tall, elegant, fastidious figure should walk in, he would find himself able to say anything at all. He feared he might only grow hot, and stammer30, and slink out. But he pulled himself together; he must do his best; it was quite necessary. He would try to say, "Lord Evelyn, I know it is abominably31 impertinent of me to come into your house like this. Will you forgive me this once? I have come to ask you, is there any consideration whatever, any sort of reparation my brother and I can make, which will be of any use as amends32 for what we did? If so, of course we should be grateful for the chance...."
That was what he would try to say. And what he would mean was: "Will you let Hilary off? Will you let him just go away into obscurity, without further disgrace? Isn't he disgraced enough already? Because you are kind, and because you have been fond of me, and because I ask you, will you do this much?"
And what the answer would be, Peter had not the faintest idea. To him personally the answer was indifferent. From his point of view, the worst had already happened, and no further disgrace could affect him much. But Hilary desperately33 cared, so he must do his best; he must walk into the fire and wrest34 out of it what he could.
And at last the door opened, and Denis Urquhart came in.
He was just as usual, leisurely35 and fair and tranquil36, only usually he smiled at Peter, and to-day he did not smile. One might have fancied under his tranquillity37 a restrained nervousness. He did not shake hands; but then Peter and he never did shake hands when they met.
He said, "Sit down, won't you. My uncle isn't available just now, so I have come instead.... You have something to say to him, haven't you?"
He sat down himself, and waited, looking at the splinters of glass on the floor.
Peter stood, and his breath came shortly. Yes, he had something to say to Lord Evelyn, but nothing to Lord Evelyn's nephew. He grew hot and cold, and stammered38 something, he did not know what.
"Yes?" said Denis, in his soft, casual voice, politely expectant.
Peter, who did not, after all, lack a certain desperate courage, walked into the fire, with braced39 will. It was bad that Denis should be brought into the business; but it had to be gone through, all the same.
"I only wanted to know ... to know ... what Lord Evelyn is going to do about this matter." He jerked out the words like stones from a catapult.
Denis was silent for a moment. He disliked being dragged into this revolting affair; but he had had to come and see Peter, since his uncle refused and he could not let Peter go unseen away. He didn't want to see him ever again, since he had behaved as he had behaved, but neither did he want to violate the laws of courtesy and hospitality.
"I don't quite know," he said, after a moment.
"Is he ... does he intend to prosecute?" Peter asked, blushing.
Denis answered to that at once: "I shall certainly do my best to prevent anything of the sort. I don't think he will. At present he is still very angry; but I think when he cools down he will see reason. To prosecute would be to make himself absurd; he will see that, no doubt. He values his reputation as an art connoisseur40, you see." At the faint, cool irony41 in the words, Peter winced42.
"Of course," went on Denis, lighting43 a cigarette, "your brother will leave Venice at once, I suppose?" He passed Peter his cigarette box; Peter refused it.
"Naturally. We mean to leave as soon as we can.... Thank you, that is all I had to say.... Good-bye."
Denis got up, and Peter saw relief through the mask of politeness.
"Good-bye.... I needn't say how sorry I am about all this. It was hard lines on you being brought into it."
He was making a transparent44 effort after friendliness45; Peter almost smiled at it. Poor Denis; what a relief it would be to him when the disreputable Margerisons were off the scenes.
Peter paused at the door and said, in a low, embarrassed voice, "Would you mind telling Lord Evelyn what I told him myself last night—that I'm horribly sorry about it—sorrier than I have ever been for anything.... It won't make any difference to him, I know—but if you will just tell him.... And I'm sorry it happened while you were here, too. You've been dragged in.... Good-bye."
"Good-bye, Margerison." Denis was grave, embarrassed, restrained, and not unkind. It was obvious that he had nothing to say about it all.
Peter left the Ca' delle Gemme.
That afternoon Hilary received a note from Lord Evelyn. It was to the effect that Lord Evelyn had decided46 not to bring an action, on the understanding that Hilary and his brother and Vyvian left Venice at once and discontinued for ever the profession of artistic47 advisers48. If any of the three was discovered engaging again in that business, those who employed them should promptly49 be advised of their antecedents. They were, in fact, to consider themselves warned off the turf. There was also to be a paragraph about them in the English art papers.
"Well," was Peggy's comment, "it hasn't been such a grand trade that we need mind much. We'll all come back to England and keep a boarding-house there instead, and you shall paint the great pictures, darling, and have ever so much more fun. And we'll never need to see that Vyvian again; there's fine news for the babies, anyhow. And I will be relieved to get them away from the canals; one of them would have been surely drowned before long. In London they'll have only gutters50."
Hilary, who was looking tired and limp after a distressing51 night and day, said, "What shall you do, Peter?"
"I don't know," said Peter. "I must find something, I suppose. Some sort of work, you know." He pronounced the word gingerly, distastefully, as if it were a curious, unwonted one. "Perhaps I shall be able to get a post as door-keeper somewhere; in some museum, you know, or perhaps a theatre, or the White City. I've always thought that might be amusing."
"You wouldn't earn much that way," Hilary said hopelessly.
"Need one earn much?" Peter wondered; then remembered how exceedingly little Hilary would be earning, and that perhaps one need, because of the babies.
"Or perhaps I can get taken on as a clerk in some business," he amended52. "Or in a bank; only I don't believe my sums or manners are good enough for a bank, really.... Oh, well, I must see what I can squeeze into. Perhaps Leslie can think of something. And perhaps the Robinsons will interest themselves in me, though they'll be even more disgusted at our downfall than they were when I took up my profession, and they thought that perfectly53 idiotic54. They always do think we're perfectly idiotic, and now they'll know we're something worse. But they may help me to a job, if I bother them enough.... Anyhow, I'll be one of your boarders, if I may."
"You darling," said Peggy, beaming at him. "It'll give the house quite a different feeling if you're in it. And how delighted the babies will be. I believe we're going to have the fine time, after all, in spite of this bothersome business. Hurrah55 for London and no mosquitoes! And we'll be quite near a Catholic church, the way the children'll be able to run in and out as they do here, and not pick up heathen customs. Why, Hilary, I'm really pleased!"
Peggy was splendid. She was nearly always really pleased.
They started for England a week later. In the course of that week two things happened. One was that Leslie gave Peter the Berovieri goblet56 for his own.
"You've got to take it," he said. "If you don't, I shall give it back to the prince. I've no right to it; I can't appreciate it properly. Since I first saw you look at the thing I knew it was really yours. Take it and keep it. You won't let me do anything else for you, but you shall let me do that."
Peter looked at it with wistful love. His fingers lingered about its exquisiteness57.
"It will break," he said. "My things do break. Break and get lost, and go with the dust. Or thieves will break in and steal it. I shan't be able to keep it, I know; I'm such a bad hand at keeping things."
"Well, well, have a try," said Leslie. So Peter took it and was glad. It was his one link with the world of exquisiteness and new-burnished joys out of which he was being thrust; he would keep it if he could.
Leslie also said that he could get him a place in a business, if he really wanted one.
"I shall be extremely little use," said Peter.
"Extremely little," Leslie agreed. "You'd much better not try. But if you must you must."
"I'm afraid I must," said Peter.
So Leslie wrote letters about him, and secured him a humble58 post in a warehouse59. Leslie was not going to return to England at present. He was going a tour round the world. Since Peter refused to accompany him, he went alone.
"There's no one else I can fancy hanging round me day and night," he said. "I wanted you, Margery"—the nickname fell from him with a clumsy pathos—"but if you won't you won't. I shall acquire an abominable collection of objects without you to guide me; but that can't be helped."
The other thing that happened was that Mrs. Johnson fell suddenly ill and died. Before she died, she talked to Peter about Rhoda.
"It's leaving of her as I can't bear," she whispered. "All alone and unprotected like. I can't leave her by herself in this heathen country. I want to get her back to England. But she's got no relatives there as'll do for her; none, you know, as I should care to trust her to, or as 'ud be really good to her. And I'm afraid of what'll come to the child without me; I'm afraid, Mr. Peter. That man—it gives me the creeps of nights to think of him comin' after Rhoder when I'm gone. I'm just frightened as he'll get her; you know what Rhoder is, like a soft wax candle that gets droopy and gives before his bold look; he can do anythin' with her. And if he gets her, he won't be good to her, I know that. He'll just break her and toss her away, my little gal17. Oh, what can I do, Mr. Peter, to save that?"
She was in great pain; drops of sweat kept gathering60 on her forehead and rolling on to the pillow. Peter took her hand that picked at the blanket.
"May we try to take care of her?" he gently asked. "If she will come and stay with us, in London, it would be better than being alone among strangers, wouldn't it? She could get work near, and live with us. Peggy is fond of her, you know; we all are. We would try to make her as happy as we could."
She smiled at him, between laboured breaths.
"God bless you, dear Mr. Peter. I somehow thought as how you'd be good to my little gal.... You are so sympathetic to everyone always.... Yes, Rhoder shall do that; I'll have her promise. And that man—you'll keep him off of her?"
"I will try," said Peter. "I will do my very best."
"Oh, Lord, oh, dear Lord," said Mrs. Johnson, "the pain!"
But it didn't last long, for she died that night.
And four days later the boarding-house was broken up, and the Margerison family and Rhoda Johnson left Italy together.
Rhoda was very quiet and still and white. She was terribly alone, for her mother was gone, and the man she loved was gone, hurriedly, without a word to her. There remained the Margerisons; Peter, with his friendly smile and gentle companionableness; Hilary, worried and weary and hardly noticing her unobtrusive presence; Silvio, Caterina, and Illuminato sucking gingerbread and tumbling off the rack, and Peggy, on whose broad shoulder Rhoda suddenly laid her head and wept, all through the Mont Cenis tunnel.
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1
gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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prosecute
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| vt.告发；进行；vi.告发，起诉，作检察官 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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prosecutes
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| 检举、告发某人( prosecute的第三人称单数 )； 对某人提起公诉； 继续从事（某事物）； 担任控方律师 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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restitution
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| n.赔偿；恢复原状 | |
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gal
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| n.姑娘，少女 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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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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amenable
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| adj.经得起检验的；顺从的；对负有义务的 | |
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immunity
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| n.优惠；免除；豁免，豁免权 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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stammer
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| n.结巴，口吃；v.结结巴巴地说 | |
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abominably
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| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
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amends
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| n. 赔偿 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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wrest
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| n.扭，拧，猛夺；v.夺取，猛扭，歪曲 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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connoisseur
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| n.鉴赏家，行家，内行 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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advisers
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| 顾问，劝告者( adviser的名词复数 )； （指导大学新生学科问题等的）指导教授 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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gutters
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| （路边）排水沟( gutter的名词复数 )； 阴沟； （屋顶的）天沟； 贫贱的境地 | |
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51
distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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52
Amended
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| adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
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53
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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54
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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55
hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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56
goblet
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| n.高脚酒杯 | |
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57
exquisiteness
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58
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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59
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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60
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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