For ten minutes, during which the city was blind with hail, I could see nothing but a thicket1 of white strings2 dense3 as the threads in a loom4; hear nothing but the pounding crash of thunder and fierce hiss5 and clatter6 of the driving stones. Then darkness gathered within and without, and down came the storm with an access of fury that seemed verily as if it must flatten7 out the town like a scattered8 ants’ nest.
So infernal for the moment was the uproar9 that I hurried to my father’s side, fearful that his soul might actually yield itself to the raging tyranny of its surroundings.
He lay unmoved in the same quiet stupor10 of the faculties11, unconscious, apparently12, that anything out of nature’s custom was enacting13 near him.
As suddenly as it had begun, the white deluge14 ceased, as though the last of its reservoirs above were emptied. The reaction to comparative silence was so intense that in the first joy of it one scarcely harkened to the voice of a great wind that had risen and was following on the heels of the storm, to batten like a camp follower15 on the wreckage16 of the battle that had swept by. For four weary days it flew, going past like an endless army, and laden17 clouds were its parks of artillery18 and the swords of its bitterness never rested in their scabbards.
On that first evening, when the hailstorm had passed and light was restored, I was standing19 by the window looking out on the bridge and the street all freckled20 with white, when a low moaning sound came to my ears. I turned sharply round, thinking it was my father, but he lay peaceful and motionless. I hurried to the door and opened it, and there in the passage outside was old Peggy, cast down upon her face, and groaning21 and muttering in a pitiful manner.
I gave her a little ungallant peck with my foot.
“Now!” I cried, “what’s this? What are you doing?”
“What’s the matter, I say?”
“Take the clean and well-preserved! There’s better fish than a poor feckless old ’ooman all fly blown like a carkis wi’ ungodliness!”
I gave her another little stir.
“I repent25!” she shrieked26. “I’ll confess everything! Only spare me now. Gie me a month—two months, to prepare my sore wicked soul for the felon’s grave.”
“Peggy,” I said, sternly, “get up and don’t make a fool of yourself.”
She seemed to listen.
“Is that you, Renalt?” she said, presently.
“Get up—do you hear?”
“Keep the bolt fro’ me. Pray to the Lord for a bad old ’ooman. Wrastle for me, Renalt.”
“Are you crazy?”
She bumped her elbows on the floor as she lay, in fretful terror.
“Wrastle—wrastle!” she whined27. “Don’t waste your breath on axing things. While you talk He enters.”
“Who enters?”
“The Lord of hosts. I saw His face at the window, and the breath o’ His nostrils28 was like the sound o’ guns. I arlays meant to repent—I swear it on the blessed book. It’s a wicked thing to compact wi’ the prince o’ darkness. Believe me, truth, I arlays meant it, but the pot must be boiled and the beds made and where were old Peggy’s time? You wudn’t smite29 a body, Lord, for caring of her dooties, and I repent now. It’s never too late over one sinner doing penance30. Oh, Lord, take the young and well-favored and gie crass31 Rottengoose a month for her sins!”
“Peggy, I haven’t a doubt you’ve plenty to do penance for. But have you really the stupendous assurance to think that all this storm is got up on your account? Get up, you old idiot! The thunder’s past and there’s nothing to be afraid of now.”
Her lean body went in with a great sigh. For some moments she lay as she was; then cautiously twisted her head and peered up at me.
“Sakes alive!” she muttered, listening. “Was it all for nowt, then?”
“Heave me up, Renalt,” she said. “The Lord has seen the wisdom o’ let alone, praise to His mercy.”
“Don’t presume on that, Peggy. He’ll call to you at His own time, though it mayn’t be through a thunderstorm.”
“Look to yourself, Renalt. The young twigs33 snap easiest. You may be the first to go, wi’ the load o’ guilt34 you gathered in London yon for company.”
“Very likely. You asked me to pray for you just now, you know. What’s on your mind, Peggy Rottengoose?”
I had the old sinner to her feet by this time. Her face was a yellow, haggard thing to look at—shining like stained brass35. Something in it seemed to convey to me that perhaps after all the angel of the storm had struck at her in passing.
“What but ministering to Satan’s children?” she said.
“I didn’t mean it! Let me go by!”
“What have you got to repent of in the first place?”
“I was stealing the pictur’ o’ Modred—there! No peace ha’ I hard since I done it!”
I let the old liar42 pass, and she shuffled43 away, hugging herself and glancing round at me once or twice as if she still doubted the meaning of my threat. I paid no more attention to her, but returned to my father’s room.
The old man lay on his back placid44 and unconcerned, but his eyes were open and he greeted me with a cheerful little nod.
Darkness deepened in the room, and the white face on the pillow became a luminous45 spot set weirdly46 in the midst of it. I had not once till then, I think, admitted a single feeling of disloyalty toward my father to my heart. Now a little unaccountable stirring of impatience47 and resentment48 awoke in me. I was under some undefinable nervous influence, and was surely not true to myself in the passing of the mood. It seemed suddenly a monstrous49 thing to me that he, the prime author of all that evil destiny that had haunted our lives, should be fading peacefully toward the grave, while we must needs live on to outface and adjust the ugly heritage of responsibilities that were the fruits of his selfish policy of inaction.
Such sudden swift reactions from a long routine of endurance are humanly inevitable50. They may flame up at a word, a look, a shying thought—the spark of divinity glowing with indignation over intolerable injustice51. Then the dull decorum of earth stamps it under again and we go on as before.
During that spell of rebellion, my soul passed in review the incidents of a cruel visitation of a father’s sins upon his children. I saw the stunted52 minds meanly nurtured53 in an atmosphere of picturesque54 skepticism. I saw the natural outgrowth of this in a reckless indifference55 to individual responsibility. Following thereon came one by one the impulse to triumph by evil—the unchecked desire—the shameless deed—the road, the river and the two lonely graves.
I rose to my feet and paced the room to and fro, casting a resentful glance now and again at the quiet figure on the bed. Driven to quick desperation I strode to the door, opened it and descended56 the stairs.
In the blaze of my anger I burst into the haunted room, thinking to stay the monster with the mere57 breath of my fury. But the cold blackness drove at me, and, for all my confidence, repelled58 me on the very threshold.
I rushed away to the sluice59, let it fall and shut off the race. Then I returned, breathless and panting, and looked at the open door.
“You’re a very material devil,” I muttered; “a boy could silence your voice, for all its boastfulness.”
As I spoke, again a little ugly secret laugh seemed to issue from it. Probably it was only an expiring screech of the axle, but it made my blood run tingling60 for all that.
“I have silenced its hateful voice,” I cried to myself, and whispered it again as I re-entered my father’s room.
The old man lay silent and motionless as I seated myself once more by the window. Now the great blasts of tempest held monopoly of the ghostly house, unpierced of that other voice that had been like the grinding of the teeth of the storm.
Presently I heard him stirring restlessly in his bed, and little fitful moans came from his lips. His uneasiness increased; he muttered and threw his arms constantly into fresh positions. Could it be that my untoward63 silencing of that voice that for such long years had been his counselor64 and familiar was making a vacancy65 in his soul into which deadlier demons66 were stealing?
I moved to the bed and looked down upon him. As I did so the old tenderness reasserted itself and the mood of blackness passed away. If he had bequeathed to us a dark heritage of suffering, it is by suffering that the soul climbs from the bestial67 pitfalls68 of the senses.
As I leaned down to cover his chest that his restless tossing had bared, a second tempest of hail swept furiously upon the town. I ran to the window and looked out. In the flashing radiance of the lamp that stood upon the bridge opposite—for night was now settled upon the city—I saw the tumult69 of white beat upon the stones and rebound70 from them and thrash all the road, as it were, with froth.
Suddenly a figure started up in the midst of the flickering71 curtain of ice. It was there in a moment—waving its wild arms—wringing its hands—shrieking, I could have fancied, though no sound came to me. But, in the wonder and instant of its rising, I knew it to be Duke’s.
Hardly had I mastered the first shock of surprise when there came the sound of a great cry behind me. I turned, and there was my father sitting up in bed, and his face was ghastly.
“The wheel!” he shrieked, in a suffocating72 voice; “the wheel! I’m under it!” And fell back upon his pillow.
点击收听单词发音
1 thicket | |
n.灌木丛,树林 | |
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2 strings | |
n.弦 | |
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3 dense | |
a.密集的,稠密的,浓密的;密度大的 | |
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4 loom | |
n.织布机,织机;v.隐现,(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
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5 hiss | |
v.发出嘶嘶声;发嘘声表示不满 | |
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6 clatter | |
v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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7 flatten | |
v.把...弄平,使倒伏;使(漆等)失去光泽 | |
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8 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
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9 uproar | |
n.骚动,喧嚣,鼎沸 | |
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10 stupor | |
v.昏迷;不省人事 | |
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11 faculties | |
n.能力( faculty的名词复数 );全体教职员;技巧;院 | |
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12 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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13 enacting | |
制定(法律),通过(法案)( enact的现在分词 ) | |
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14 deluge | |
n./vt.洪水,暴雨,使泛滥 | |
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15 follower | |
n.跟随者;随员;门徒;信徒 | |
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16 wreckage | |
n.(失事飞机等的)残骸,破坏,毁坏 | |
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17 laden | |
adj.装满了的;充满了的;负了重担的;苦恼的 | |
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18 artillery | |
n.(军)火炮,大炮;炮兵(部队) | |
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19 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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20 freckled | |
adj.雀斑;斑点;晒斑;(使)生雀斑v.雀斑,斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21 groaning | |
adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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22 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 | |
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23 mumblingly | |
说话含糊地,咕哝地 | |
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24 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
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25 repent | |
v.悔悟,悔改,忏悔,后悔 | |
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26 shrieked | |
v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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27 whined | |
v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 );哀诉,诉怨 | |
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28 nostrils | |
鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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29 smite | |
v.重击;彻底击败;n.打;尝试;一点儿 | |
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30 penance | |
n.(赎罪的)惩罪 | |
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31 crass | |
adj.愚钝的,粗糙的;彻底的 | |
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32 withered | |
adj. 枯萎的,干瘪的,(人身体的部分器官)因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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33 twigs | |
细枝,嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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34 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
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35 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
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36 morosely | |
adv.愁眉苦脸地,忧郁地 | |
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37 villain | |
n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
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38 evaded | |
逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 ); 避开; 回避; 想不出 | |
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39 wriggle | |
v./n.蠕动,扭动;蜿蜒 | |
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40 shrill | |
adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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41 screech | |
n./v.尖叫;(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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42 liar | |
n.说谎的人 | |
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43 shuffled | |
v.洗(纸牌)( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 );拖着脚步走;粗心地做;摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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44 placid | |
adj.安静的,平和的 | |
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45 luminous | |
adj.发光的,发亮的;光明的;明白易懂的;有启发的 | |
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46 weirdly | |
古怪地 | |
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47 impatience | |
n.不耐烦,急躁 | |
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48 resentment | |
n.怨愤,忿恨 | |
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49 monstrous | |
adj.巨大的;恐怖的;可耻的,丢脸的 | |
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50 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
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51 injustice | |
n.非正义,不公正,不公平,侵犯(别人的)权利 | |
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52 stunted | |
adj.矮小的;发育迟缓的 | |
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53 nurtured | |
养育( nurture的过去式和过去分词 ); 培育; 滋长; 助长 | |
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54 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
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55 indifference | |
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
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56 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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57 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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58 repelled | |
v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 );使厌恶;排斥;推开 | |
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59 sluice | |
n.水闸 | |
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60 tingling | |
v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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61 determinedly | |
adv.决意地;坚决地,坚定地 | |
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62 demon | |
n.魔鬼,恶魔 | |
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63 untoward | |
adj.不利的,不幸的,困难重重的 | |
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64 counselor | |
n.顾问,法律顾问 | |
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65 vacancy | |
n.(旅馆的)空位,空房,(职务的)空缺 | |
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66 demons | |
n.恶人( demon的名词复数 );恶魔;精力过人的人;邪念 | |
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67 bestial | |
adj.残忍的;野蛮的 | |
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68 pitfalls | |
(捕猎野兽用的)陷阱( pitfall的名词复数 ); 意想不到的困难,易犯的错误 | |
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69 tumult | |
n.喧哗;激动,混乱;吵闹 | |
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70 rebound | |
v.弹回;n.弹回,跳回 | |
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71 flickering | |
adj.闪烁的,摇曳的,一闪一闪的 | |
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72 suffocating | |
a.使人窒息的 | |
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