I thought that the old woman, startled by our entrance, had merely stepped back, tripped and so come to the ground; but the doctor uttered an exclamation1, ran to the prostrate2 figure and called me to bring a spongeful of water from the wash-hand-stand.
When I had complied I saw that the ancient limbs were rigid3; the teeth set, the lips foaming4 slightly. Peggy was in an epileptic fit and that at her age was no light matter.
I feared that her struggles might presently wake my father, who was to all appearance sleeping peacefully, and asked the doctor if it would not be possible to move her to another room. He shook his head, but gave no answer. Suddenly I was conscious that his eyes were fixed5 upon the tablet still held in her crooked6 fingers, and that in my distraction7 I had not erased8 the damning words that were traced thereon. The wet sponge was in my hand. With a quick movement I stooped and swept it across the surface. As I did so the doctor slewed9 his head round and smirked10 up at me with a truly diabolical11 expression. Then he snatched the sponge and plumped it with a slap on the withered12 forehead. The soot13 from the tablet ran in wet streaks14 over the sinister15 old face and made a grotesque16 horror of it. The wretched creature moaned and jerked under the shock, as though the water were biting acid.
Not a word was spoken between us for full twenty minutes—not till the fit at length subsided18 and left the racked body to the rest of exhaustion19. The eyes became human, with what humanity was left them; the pallid20 face fell into its usual lines—the old woman lay flat with closed lids in the extreme of debility.
Then said Dr. Crackenthorpe: “Take you her feet and I her head and we’ll move her out of this.”
We carried Peggy into my room and laid her on the bed that had been Jason’s. Her hours must be numbered, I thought as I looked at the gray features, already growing spectral21 in the rising fog of death.
Turning from that old fallen stump22, Dr. Crackenthorpe suddenly faced me, a smile on his crackled lips.
“So,” he said, “on the top of that confession23, you sought to convince me against your own judgment24?”
“I haven’t a thought to deny it. I value it at nothing. He has fed on a baseless chimera25, at your instigation—yes, you needn’t lie—till his mind is sick with disease. What does it matter? I know him and I stake my soul on his innocence26. I asked you to ease his mind—not mine. I tell you in a word”—I strode up to him and spoke17 slowly and fiercely—“my father had no hand in Modred’s death and I believe you know it.”
He backed from me a little, breathing hard, when a sound from the bed stopped him. I started and turned. The old woman’s hand was up to her neck. Her sick eyes were moving from the one to the other of us in a lost, questioning way; a murmur27 was in her lean, pulsing throat.
“Lie quiet, Peggy,” I said; “you may be able to speak in a minute if you lie quiet.”
The words seemed only to increase the panic in her. With a gurgling burst a fragment of speech came from her mouth:
“Be I passing?”
She appeared to collapse29 and shrink inward; but in a moment she was up, leaning on her elbow, and her face was terrible to look at.
“’Twas I killed the boy!” she cried, with a sort of breathless wail30; “tell him—tell Ralph,” and so fell back, and I thought the life was gone from her.
Was I base and cruel in my triumph? I rose erect31, indifferent to the tortured soul stretched beneath me.
“Who was right?” I cried. “Believe me now, you dog; and growl32 and curse your fill over the wreck33 of your futile34 villainy!”
His mouth was set in an incredulous grinning line. I brushed sternly past him, making for my father’s room. I could not pause or wait a moment. The poor soul’s long anguish35 should be ended there and then.
As I stooped over his bed I saw that some change had come upon him in sleep. The twist of his mouth was relaxed. His face had assumed something of its normal expression.
I seized up the tablet from where it had tumbled on the floor. I smeared36 it with a fresh coating from the saucer. His first waking eyes, I swore, should look upon the written evidence of his acquittal. While I was waiting for the stuff to dry, he stirred, murmured and opened his eyes.
“Renalt!” he said, in a very low, weak voice.
Speech had returned to him. I knelt by his side and passed my tremulous arms underneath37 him.
“Father,” I said, “you can speak—you are awake again. I have something to tell you; something to say. Don’t move or utter a sound. You have been asleep all this time—only asleep. While you were unconscious old Peggy has been taken ill—very ill. In the fear of death she has made a confession. Father, I saw what you wrote on this—look, on this tablet! It was all untrue; I have wiped it out. It was Peggy killed Modred—she has confessed it.”
He lifted his unstricken hand—the other was yet paralyzed—in an attitude of prayer. Presently his hand dropped and he turned his face to me, his eyes brimming with tears.
“Renalt,” he murmured, in the poor shadow of a voice, “I thank my God—but the greater sin—I can never condone—though you forgive me—my son.”
“Forgive? What have I to forgive, dad? My heart is as light as a feather.”
He only gazed at me earnestly—pathetically. I went and sat by his side and smoothed his pillow and took his hand in mine.
“Now the incubus38 is gone, dad, and you’ll get well. You must—I can’t do without you. The black shadow is passed from the mill, and the coming days are all full of sunshine.”
“What has she—confessed? How did—she—do it?”
“I didn’t wait to hear. I wanted you to know, and left her the moment she had spoken.”
“Alone?”
“There,” he said, with a faint smile, “I know—I know he’s in the house. I don’t fear—I don’t fear—I tell you. I’m—past that. He won’t want—to come in here?”
He spoke all this time in a bodiless, low tone, and the effort seemed to exhaust him. For some time I sat by him, till he fell into a light slumber40. No sound was in the house, and I did not even know if Dr. Crackenthorpe had left the adjoining room. But when my father was settled down and breathing quietly, I rose and stepped noiselessly thither41 to see.
As I walked toward him I glanced aside at the bed. Something about the pose of the figure thereon brought me to a sudden stop. My heart rose and fell with a sharp, quick emotion, and in the instant of it I knew that the old woman was dead. Her head had been propped43 against the bolster44, so that her chin rested upon her withered breast. That would never beat again to the impulse of fear or evil or any kinder emotion, for Peggy had answered to her name.
For the moment I stood stupefied. I think I had hardly realized that the end was so near. Sorrow I could not feel, but now regret leaped in me that I had not waited to hear all that she might tell. Only for an instant. On the next it flashed through me that it was better to put my trust in that first wild confession than to invite it by further questioning to self-condonation—perhaps actual denial.
“You went too soon,” Dr. Crackenthorpe said, in a cold voice of irony45. “I must tell you that was hardly decent.”
“I never thought she had spoken her last.”
“Nor had she—by a good deal.”
“She said more?”
“Much more—and to a different purpose.”
I stared at him, breathing hard.
“Are you going to lie again?” I muttered.
“That pleasantry is too often on your lips, sir,” he said, coolly. “None doubt truth so much as those who have dishonored her. The dead woman there leaves you this as a legacy46.”
He thrust the thing he was holding into my hand. I recognized it in a sort of dull wonder. It was that ancient mutilated portrait of Modred that I had once discovered in Peggy’s possession.
From the stained and riddled47 silhouette48 to the evil face of the man before me I glanced and could only wait in dumb expectancy49.
“She told me where to find it,” he said, “and I brought it to her.”
“I never heard you move.”
“I stepped softly for fear of disturbing your father. Do you see that outraged50 relic51? The old creature’s self-accusation turned upon it—upon that and nothing else.”
“What do you mean?”
“That you must look elsewhere, I am afraid, for the criminal. Our pleasant Rottengoose shared the gross superstitions53 of her kind. All these years she has secretly hugged the really reprehensible54 thought that the boy’s death was due to her.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A base superstition52, my friend—a very base superstition. She had in her possession, I understand, a flint shaft55 of the paleolithic period. There are plenty such to be picked up in the neighborhood. The ignorant call them elf arrowheads and cherish a belief that to mutilate with one of them a body’s portrait or image is to compass that person’s destruction. This harridan56 cherished no love for your brother, and fancied she saw her opportunity of seizing revenge without risk on a certain night of misfortune. The boy died and henceforth she knew herself as his murderess. Good-morning to you. May I remind you that my fee is yet unpaid57? I will certify58 to the present cause of death, with pleasure.”
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1
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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2
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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3
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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4
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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5
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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6
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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7
distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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8
erased
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| v.擦掉( erase的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；清除 | |
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9
slewed
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| adj.喝醉的v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去式 )( slew的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
smirked
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| v.傻笑( smirk的过去分词 ) | |
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11
diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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12
withered
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| 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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13
soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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14
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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15
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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16
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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17
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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18
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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19
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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20
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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21
spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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22
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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23
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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24
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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25
chimera
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| n.神话怪物；梦幻 | |
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26
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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27
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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28
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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29
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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30
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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31
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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32
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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33
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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34
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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35
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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36
smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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37
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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38
incubus
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| n.负担；恶梦 | |
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39
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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40
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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41
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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42
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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43
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
bolster
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| n.枕垫；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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45
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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46
legacy
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| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
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47
riddled
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| adj.布满的；充斥的；泛滥的v.解谜，出谜题(riddle的过去分词形式) | |
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48
silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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49
expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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50
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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51
relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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52
superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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53
superstitions
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| 迷信，迷信行为( superstition的名词复数 ) | |
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54
reprehensible
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| adj.该受责备的 | |
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55
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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56
harridan
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| n.恶妇；丑老大婆 | |
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57
unpaid
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| adj.未付款的，无报酬的 | |
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58
certify
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| vt.证明，证实；发证书(或执照)给 | |
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