Something singular in the appearance of his house engaged Mr. Tuke’s attention the moment he drew rein1 before the door. Desolate2 and haunted it always looked; but now there was a deathly air about the place that was an additional burden on its eeriness3.
The reason of this he found was not far to seek. Behind the latticed glazing4 of every window the strong shutters5 were closed and bolted, though it was now eleven o’clock of a sunny, brisk morning.
He dismounted and tried the front door. It was fastened also. On the echo of his angry summons fell the sound of a light step within.
“Open, girl! What is the meaning of this?”
She drew the bolts reluctantly—deliberately. In his impatience7 to enter he almost threw her down.
“What is the meaning of this?” he repeated.
She had backed into a shadowy angle of the hall, and thence looked at him with a sullen8 defiance9. He had to again put his question, and harshly.
“Oh!” she said, nodding at him with an angry look, “what trouble hasn’t your coming brought on us!”
“Now,” he said peremptorily10, “explain yourself.”
“We lived at peace with the shadows and the spirits before,” she answered. “Since you came they take to worrying us; and they have made his face like death.”
“His—my brother’s. They were about the house all last night—creeping, creeping, as soft as snow on withered12 leaves. He feared that they would get in, and he dared not rest or sleep till daylight came; and now he is on his bed.”
Tuke strode to the end of the hall.
“Whimple!” he thundered. “Come and take my horse!”
He felt Darda’s breath at his ear, and turned to find she had come swiftly after him with her white face.
He put her sternly aside, and, twisting about for another violent summons, subsided14 into an “’umph!” of petulance15.
The man was standing16 silent before him, the same scared look in his eyes that he had learned to loathe17.
“Why is the house locked and sealed like this?” he demanded.
“I dared not open it, sir, till you came.”
“Dared not! and why?” said his master.
Whimple looked about him helplessly, as if he sought a loophole of escape from the question.
“Come,” said the other, “why did you not dare?”
“I was frightened; terrified. There were noises and footsteps.”
“The wind or any other natural cause. These bugbears don’t stalk in the daytime. A pretty caretaker, upon my word!”
He looked at the fellow gloomily; hesitated, and, bidding him roughly see to his horse, turned into the dining-hall, closed the door, unbolted and threw open the shutters, and sat himself down before a dull fire.
“What is it all? what is it all?” he thought desperately19. “Am I in good truth being stalked and shadowed, and for what reason? And is that fellow in the league against me? Blythewood knows him well, and has a high opinion of him. What then? What favourable20 view can I possibly take of his reticence21 and evasiveness? For all I know, Blythewood himself may be the chief of a colony of pads and cut-throats. I am a lamb amongst wolves—knowing nought22 of the neighbourhood; moving in the dark. I am drowned and overwhelmed in a sea of mysteries—in a cursed Lake of Wine. And there, there, there! Luvaine’s fabulous23 stone!”
He sprang to his feet, and set to pacing the room.
“By God!” he cried aloud, “I will stand it no more! I will be master of my own, and subscribe24 no longer to the infernal bullying25 of circumstances!”
In the midst of his excitement the vision of Angela rose before him, sparkling, spirituelle—a true child of the thoughtless, effervescent life of his everyday custom.
“Oh, I am a fool!” he murmured. “She and her brother carry their patents of respectability on their sleeves.”
But from now he was determined26 to throw off all gloom and trepidation27; to go his way and improve his estate without idle speculations28 as to antagonistic29 forces at work, and to strike, and strike hard, if he was interfered30 with.
All that day he sang and whistled over his labour of investigation31. Perhaps, in the background of his fancy, rose and broadened a dawn of new hopes and possibilities. Perhaps he pictured there a “Delsrop” restored, cultivated and flourishing, and contiguous to other fruitful acres, wherein his interest was figured in a certain dainty lady, destined32 to be the mother of one who should recover his own waived33 surname and title. For so, he could not forbear reflecting, had the titular34 restriction35 been imposed upon himself alone.
He was coming across his lawn on the afternoon of the following day, when he noticed a cart issue from the drive and stop, and saw Betty Pollack jump down with a basket on her arm.
He strolled, conscious of a sudden spring of pleasure in his veins37, towards the girl, who dropped a pretty curtsey to him as he neared her.
“Come round the kitchen-gardens, Betty,” said he; “and see if you can supply anything we don’t already possess.”
He glanced with a certain defiance, as he spoke, at the old gaffer seated in the gig, mumchance and blinking, like a withered owl38, and led the way to a crazy door that opened into a walled garden.
“There!” said he. “Is not that Eden?”
“It is very neglected and unkempt,” said the girl gravely. “There is work for two men here for many days; and then the soil would want well manuring, to make it fruitful.”
He laughed. His careless eye roved over her charms luxuriously40. Suddenly, child of his new-found tenderness, a great pity awoke in his heart for this poor lamb, so treacherously41 shepherded.
“Betty,” he said gently, “have you no mother?”
She smiled with a little falling sadness.
“Oh, your honour, she died before I can remember.”
“Or father?”
Betty looked sheepish.
“Father was shot by the Preventive in ’91,” she murmured.
“H’m! and he there—has he brought you up and cared for you?”
“Ever since? Yes.”
“And he’s good to you?”
“Grandfather? Oh, yes! We are the only two left. I shall be—I shall be quite alone when he is gone.”
Could this—the desire to secure protection for his own, on whatever condition, be the explanation of the old man’s attitude? A wryed morality, if it were; but at least forethoughtful and unselfish. But no. The suggestion had been an evil and self-interested one.
“Do you serve the tap all day, Betty?” said he.
“Mostly, your honour. But Jim will take a turn when we go a-jaunting.”
“Who is Jim?”
“He’s the stable-boy.”
“Well, what have you got for me there?”
She groped in her basket.
“I’ll pay you double for each, and throw a kiss in for interest, Betty.”
She backed a step or two.
“Will you please not to talk like that?”
“I will please; I will please. Deeds are better than words.”
She made as if to run from him; but pulled herself up and stood still with eyes full of trouble.
His blood raced in his veins. She looked a very Andromeda—warm and winning and pathetic. He went a hurried pace, slid his arm about her, and kissed her lips softly. The moment he had done it, he was sorry.
She never moved, panting where she stood.
Then he added: “Go to your grandfather, my dear. Maybe, after all, the old scamp is safer than the young.”
“Yes,” she said, striving to steady her voice. “I mustn’t come hither again.”
She turned and moved away a step or two, her pretty head hanging. Suddenly she faced about, and came at our gentleman with a little spit of passion.
“I trusted you, and it was unfair. And I came to give your honour warning, and now I won’t!”
The words were hardly out of her lips when her eyes were drowned in tears.
“Yes, yes—I will, I will!” she cried, and buried her face in her hands.
Tuke smiled and put his arm again about the girl. She showed no sign of resentment—even allowed herself to be pulled a trifle closer to him.
“Betty, my little wench—what is it all? What is the to-do?”
“Oh!” she looked up at him through blinking lashes—“there are evil men about.”
“Why, so I know, my dear. And what then?”
She clasped her fingers convulsively over the basket-handle.
“I fear for your honour. There is something dark afoot; and you live lone36 and the times is troublous.”
“But all this is for any understanding. Have you nothing more?”
“I have my eyes and my ears. I see folks, and I hear a many words that isn’t meant for me. There’s a man, Breeds, your honour—ah! you know him; a feckless creature, but dangerous in his cups. He’s not to be trusted. He consorts47 wi’ rogues48 and hath a hanging reputation. I would your honour could lay him by the heels for harbouring cut-throats.”
“I have my eye on him, Betty.”
He could get nothing more definite from the girl. She was full of alarm and uneasiness on his account, but on what founded she had a difficulty in explaining. She knew only that of late certain strangers, of a somewhat villainous cast, were housed within the walls of the old wayside tavern49; that occasionally a couple of them would drop into the tap of the “First Inn,” and secretly terrify her, secretly listening, with muttered innuendoes50 and hoarse51 whisperings on the subject of some projected scheme of roguery.
Then Stockbridge was little more than a rustic52 village—a boorish53 community of clodpolls, that nightly slept away the memory of its daily toil54 in a beery stupor55 of indifference56; and what practical influence could thence be brought to bear on blackguards predetermined to some deed of darkness?
The moral was all of woman’s intuition, and therefore to be accorded respect.
Mr. Tuke acknowledged this; but he laughed away Betty’s fears; while she, good girl, forgetful of her right of offence, did entreat57 him, with many pretty words and troubled looks, and a clasping of her hands—olive as young ripening58 filberts—to be on his guard.
He saw her drive away and disappear. Then, with set lips and a dour59 contraction60 of his eyebrows61, he made for the house to order his horse to be saddled.
He was a man whose constitutional good-nature underlay62 whole stories of determination. The topmost of these was to temporize63 with no discomfort64, moral or physical; but to strike at the root of the trouble before analyzing65 it. He would never have a tooth that pained him stopt; but must suffer the moment’s wrench66 to save days of dull aching.
Now it was that he saw the centre of the unaccountable to be that same beetled-browed tavern. To the “Dog and Duck” he would ride forthwith, and so seek counsel of the very heart of the mystery.
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1
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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2
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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3
eeriness
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| n.怪诞，胆怯，阴森 | |
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glazing
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| n.玻璃装配业；玻璃窗；上釉；上光v.装玻璃( glaze的现在分词 )；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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5
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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7
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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10
peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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11
jade
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| n.玉石；碧玉；翡翠 | |
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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
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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14
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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15
petulance
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| n.发脾气，生气，易怒，暴躁，性急 | |
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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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17
loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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18
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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19
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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20
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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21
reticence
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| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
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22
nought
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| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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23
fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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24
subscribe
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| vi.(to)订阅，订购；同意；vt.捐助，赞助 | |
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25
bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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26
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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27
trepidation
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| n.惊恐，惶恐 | |
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28
speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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29
antagonistic
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| adj.敌对的 | |
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30
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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31
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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32
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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33
waived
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| v.宣布放弃( waive的过去式和过去分词 )；搁置；推迟；放弃（权利、要求等） | |
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34
titular
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| adj.名义上的，有名无实的；n.只有名义（或头衔）的人 | |
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35
restriction
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| n.限制，约束 | |
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36
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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37
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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38
owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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39
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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40
luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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41
treacherously
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| 背信弃义地； 背叛地； 靠不住地； 危险地 | |
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42
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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43
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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44
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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45
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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46
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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47
consorts
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| n.配偶( consort的名词复数 )；（演奏古典音乐的）一组乐师；一组古典乐器；一起v.结伴( consort的第三人称单数 )；交往；相称；调和 | |
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48
rogues
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| n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 )；无赖；调皮捣蛋的人；离群的野兽 | |
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49
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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50
innuendoes
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| n.影射的话( innuendo的名词复数 )；讽刺的话；含沙射影；暗讽 | |
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51
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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52
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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53
boorish
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| adj.粗野的，乡巴佬的 | |
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54
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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55
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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56
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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57
entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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58
ripening
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
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59
dour
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| adj.冷酷的，严厉的；（岩石）嶙峋的；顽强不屈 | |
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60
contraction
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| n.缩略词，缩写式，害病 | |
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61
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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62
underlay
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| v.位于或存在于（某物）之下( underlie的过去式 )；构成…的基础（或起因），引起n.衬垫物 | |
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63
temporize
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| v.顺应时势；拖延 | |
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64
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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65
analyzing
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| v.分析；分析( analyze的现在分词 )；分解；解释；对…进行心理分析n.分析 | |
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66
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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