Things were going from bad to worse at castle Weelset. Whether Mrs. Gordon had disgusted her friends or got tired of them, I do not know, but she remained at home, seldom had a visitor, and never a guest. Rumour1, busy in country as in town, said she was more and more manifesting herself a slave to strong drink. She was so tired of herself, that, to escape her double, she made it increasingly a bore to her. She never read a book, never had a newspaper sent her, never inquired how things were going on about the place or in any part of the world, did nothing for herself or others, only ate, drank, slept, and raged at those around her.
One morning David Barclay, having occasion to see the factor, went to the castle, and finding he was at home ill, thought he would make an attempt to see Mrs. Gordon, and offer what service he could render: she might not have forgotten that in old days he had been a good deal about the estate. She received him at once, but behaved in such extraordinary fashion that he could not have any doubt she was at least half-drunk: there was no sense, David said, either to be got out of her, or put into her.
At Corbyknowe they heard nothing of the young laird. The papers said a good deal about the state of things in India, but Francis Gordon was not mentioned.
In the autumn of the year 1858, when the days were growing short and the nights cold in the high region about the Horn, the son of a neighbouring farmer, who had long desired to know Kirsty better, called at Corbyknowe with his sister, ostensibly on business with David. They were shown into the parlour, and all were sitting together in the early gloamin, the young woman bent2 on persuading Kirsty to pay them a visit and see the improvements they had made in house and garden, and the two farmers lamenting3 the affairs of the property on which they were tenants4.
‘But I hear there’s new grief like to come to the auld5 lairdship,’ said William Lammie, as he sat with an elbow on the tea-table whence Kirsty was removing the crumbs6.
‘And what may the wisdom o’ the country-side be puttin furth the noo?’ asked David in a tone of good-humoured irony7.
‘Weel, as I hear, Mistress Comrie’s been to Embro’ for a week or twa, and’s come hame wi’ a gey queer story concernin the young laird—awa oot there whaur there’s been sic a rumpus wi’ the h’athen so’diers. There’s word come, she says, ’at he’s fa’en intil the verra glaur o’ disgrace, funkin at something they set him til: na, he wudna! And they hed him afore a coort-mairtial as they ca’ ’t, and broucht it in, she says, bare cooardice, and jist broke him. He’ll hae ill shawin the face o’ ’m again i’ ’s ain calf-country!’
‘It’s a lee,’ said Kirsty. ‘I s’ tak my aith o’ that, whaever took the tellin o’ ’t. There never was mark o’ cooard upo’ Francie Gordon. He hed his fauts, but no ane o’ them luikit that gait. He was a kin’ o’ saft-like whiles, and unco easy come ower, but, haein little fear mysel, I ken8 a cooard whan I see him. Something may hae set up his pride—he has eneuch o’ that for twa deevils—but Francie was never nae cooard!’
‘Dinna lay the lee at my door, I beg o’ ye, Miss Barclay. I was but tellin ye what fowk was saying.’
‘Fowk’s aye sayin, and seldom sayin true. The warst o’ ’t is ’at honest fowk’s aye ready to believe leears! They dinna lee themsels, and sae it’s no easy to them to think anither wad. Thereby9 the fause word has free coorse and is glorifeed! They’re no a’ leears ’at spreads the lee; but for them ’at maks the lee, the Lord silence them!’
‘Hoots, Kirsty,’ said her mother, ‘it disna become ye to curse naebody! It’s no richt o’ ye.’
‘Ye needna be sae fell aboot the laird, Miss Barclay! He was nae partic’lar freen’ o’ yours gien a’ tales be true!’ remarked her admirer.
‘I’m tellin ye tales is maistly lees. I hae kenned11 the laird sin’ he was a wee laddie—and afore that; and I’m no gaein to hear him leed upo’ and haud my tongue! A lee’s a lee whether the leear be a leear or no!—I hae dune.’
She did not speak another word to him save to bid him good-night.
In the beginning of the year, a rumour went about the country that the laird had been seen at the castle, but it died away.
David pondered, but asked no questions, and Mrs. Bremner volunteered no information.
Kirsty of course heard the rumour, but she never took much interest in the goings on at the castle. Mrs. Gordon’s doings were not such as the angels desire to look into; and Kirsty, not distantly related to them, and inheriting a good many of their peculiarities12, minded her own business.
点击收听单词发音
1 rumour | |
n.谣言,谣传,传闻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 lamenting | |
adj.悲伤的,悲哀的v.(为…)哀悼,痛哭,悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 tenants | |
n.房客( tenant的名词复数 );佃户;占用者;占有者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 auld | |
adj.老的,旧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 crumbs | |
int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 irony | |
n.反语,冷嘲;具有讽刺意味的事,嘲弄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 ken | |
n.视野,知识领域 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 thereby | |
adv.因此,从而 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 dune | |
n.(由风吹积而成的)沙丘 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 kenned | |
v.知道( ken的过去式和过去分词 );懂得;看到;认出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 peculiarities | |
n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |