CHAPTER XI

When he returned the artist was awake. His eyes had a clearer look.

 

Uncle William surveyed them over the top of his parcels. “Feelin’ better?” he said.

 

“Yes.”

 

He carried the parcels into the next room, and the artist heard him pottering around and humming. He came out presently in his shirt-sleeves. His spectacles were mounted on the gray tufts. “I’ve got a chowder going’,” he said. “You take another pill and then you’ll be about ready to eat some of it, when it’s done.”

 

“Can I eat chowder?” The tone was dubious¹, but meek².

 

“You’ve got all your teeth, hain’t you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, then, I guess you can eat it.”

 

“I haven’t been eating much.”

 

“I shouldn’t think you had.” Uncle William spoke³ dryly. “You needn’t be a mite⁴ afraid o’ one o’ my chowders. A baby could eat ’em, if it had got its teeth.”

 

The artist ate the chowder, when it came, and called for more, but Uncle William refused him sternly. “You jest wait awhile,” he said, bearing away the empty plate. “There ain’t more’n enough for a comfortable dish for me. You don’t want to eat it all, do you?”

 

“No,” said the artist, flushing.

 

“I thought not.” It took Uncle William a long time to eat his portion, and the artist fell asleep again, watching the rhythmic⁵ motion of the great jaw⁶ as it went slowly back and forth⁷.

 

When he wakened again it was almost dark in the room. Uncle William sat by the window, looking down into the street. He came across to the bed as the artist stirred. “You’ve had a good long sleep.” He laid a hand on the moist forehead. “That’s good. Fever’s gone.”

 

“It will come back. It always does.” There was anxious dread⁸ in the tone.

 

“It won’t this time.” Uncle William sat nodding at him mildly. “I know how you feel—kind o’ scared to believe anything—anything that’s good.”

 

The artist smiled. “You never felt that way!”

 

“Jest that way,” said Uncle William. “I didn’t want to believe I wa’n’t al’ays goin’ to be sick. I kep’ kind o’ thinkin’ I’d rather be sick’n not—jest as if the devil had me.”

 

“Yes”—the young man spoke almost eagerly—“it’s the way I’ve been! Only I didn’t know it till you said so.”

 

“The’ ’s a good many things we don’t know—not jest exactly know—till somebody says ’em.”

 

They sat quiet, listening to the hum from the street.

 

“I’ve done some queer things,” said the artist.

 

“Like enough.” Uncle William did not ask what they were.

 

“They begin to look foolish.” He turned his head a little.

 

“Do you good—best thing in the world.”

 

“I don’t see how I could.” The tone was uneasy. “I must have been beastly to her.”

 

Uncle William said nothing.

 

“She didn’t tell you?” The artist was looking at him.

 

“She? Lord, no! women don’t tell anything you’ve done to ’em—not if it’s anything bad.”

 

“I might have known. . . . I fairly turned her out. But she kept coming back. She wanted me to marry her, so she could stay and take care of me.” He was not looking at Uncle William.

 

“And you wouldn’t let her?”

 

“I couldn’t—There was no money,” he said at last.

 

Uncle William glanced about him in the clear dusk. “Comf’tabul place,” he said.

 

The artist flushed. “She pays the rent, I suppose. They would have turned me out long since. I haven’t asked, but I know she pays it. There is no one else.”

 

“She is rich, probably,” said Uncle William.

 

“Rich?” The young man smiled bitterly. “She has what she earns. She works day and night. If she should stop, there would be nothing for either of us.”

 

“Not unless suthin’ come in,” said Uncle William. “Suthin’ might come in. You’d kind o’ like to see her, wouldn’t you?”

 

The artist held out a hand as if to stop him. “Not till I can pay her back, every cent!”

 

“Guess you need another pill, likely,” said Uncle William. He got up in the dark and groped about for the bottle. His great form loomed⁹ large above the bed as he handed it to the young man. “That’s four,” he said soothingly¹⁰. “Jest about one more’ll fix ye.”

 

The young man swallowed it almost grudgingly¹¹. He lay back upon the pillow. “I can pay her the money sometime.” His gaunt eyes were staring into the dark. “But I can never make up to her for the way I treated her.”

 

“Mebbe she didn’t mind,” said Uncle William, non-committally. “Sometimes they don’t.”

 

“Mind? She couldn’t help minding. I was a fiend to her. I did everything but strike her.”

 

A smile grew, out of the dark, in Uncle William’s face. “I was thinkin’ about that ol’ chief,” he said slowly—“the one that give me the pills. I treated him—why, I treated him wuss ’n anything. ’Course, he wa’n’t like white folks; but I was fightin’ crazy with the fever, not sick enough to go to bed, but jest sittin’ around and jawin’ at things. I dunno how he come to take such a likin’ to me. Might ’a’ been on account o’ my size—we was about the same build. I’d set and jaw at him, callin’ him names. Don’t s’pose he understood half of ’em, but he could see plain enough I was spittin’ mad. He’d kind o’ edge up to me, grinnin’ like and noddin’, and fust thing I knew, one day, he’d fetched a pill and made me take it. I was mad enough to ’a’ killed him easy, but ’fore I could get up to do it, I fell asleep somehow. And when I woke up I felt different. You feel different, don’t you?”

 

The artist smiled through the soft dark. “I would like to get down on my knees.”

 

Uncle William smoothed the spread in place. “They’d feel kind o’ sharp, I guess. I wouldn’t try it—not yet. You wait till Sergia comes.”

 

“Will she come?”

 

“She’d come to-night if she knew you wanted her. You go to sleep, and in the mornin’ you’ll take that other pill.” He lifted the pillow and turned it over, patting it in place. “Why, that ol’ chief he was so glad when he see me feelin’ better he acted kind o’ crazy-like. I held out my hand to him when I woke up; but he didn’t know anything about shakin’ hands. He jest got down and took my feet and hugged ’em. It made me feel queer,” said Uncle William. “You do feel queer when you hain’t acted jest right.”

1 dubious   

adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的

参考例句：

• What he said yesterday was dubious.他昨天说的话很含糊。
• He uses some dubious shifts to get money.他用一些可疑的手段去赚钱。

2 meek   

adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的

参考例句：

• He expects his wife to be meek and submissive.他期望妻子温顺而且听他摆布。
• The little girl is as meek as a lamb.那个小姑娘像羔羊一般温顺。

3 spoke   

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

参考例句：

• They sourced the spoke nuts from our company.他们的轮辐螺帽是从我们公司获得的。
• The spokes of a wheel are the bars that connect the outer ring to the centre.辐条是轮子上连接外圈与中心的条棒。

4 mite   

n.极小的东西；小铜币

参考例句：

• The poor mite was so ill.可怜的孩子病得这么重。
• He is a mite taller than I.他比我高一点点。

5 rhythmic   

adj.有节奏的，有韵律的

参考例句：

• Her breathing became more rhythmic.她的呼吸变得更有规律了。
• Good breathing is slow,rhythmic and deep.健康的呼吸方式缓慢深沉而有节奏。

6 jaw   

n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训

参考例句：

• He delivered a right hook to his opponent's jaw.他给了对方下巴一记右钩拳。
• A strong square jaw is a sign of firm character.强健的方下巴是刚毅性格的标志。

7 forth   

adv.向前；向外，往外

参考例句：

• The wind moved the trees gently back and forth.风吹得树轻轻地来回摇晃。
• He gave forth a series of works in rapid succession.他很快连续发表了一系列的作品。

8 dread   

vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧

参考例句：

• We all dread to think what will happen if the company closes.我们都不敢去想一旦公司关门我们该怎么办。
• Her heart was relieved of its blankest dread.她极度恐惧的心理消除了。

9 loomed   

v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近

参考例句：

• A dark shape loomed up ahead of us. 一个黑糊糊的影子隐隐出现在我们的前面。
• The prospect of war loomed large in everyone's mind. 战事将起的庞大阴影占据每个人的心。 来自《简明英汉词典》

10 soothingly   

adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地

参考例句：

• The mother talked soothingly to her child. 母亲对自己的孩子安慰地说。 来自《简明英汉词典》
• He continued to talk quietly and soothingly to the girl until her frightened grip on his arm was relaxed. 他继续柔声安慰那姑娘，她那因恐惧而紧抓住他的手终于放松了。 来自《简明英汉词典》

11 grudgingly   

参考例句：

• He grudgingly acknowledged having made a mistake. 他勉强承认他做错了。 来自《简明英汉词典》
• Their parents unwillingly [grudgingly] consented to the marriage. 他们的父母无可奈何地应允了这门亲事。 来自《现代汉英综合大词典》