"I can hear the master's voice again," he murmured. "Time seems to have gone back with me. It is as if you had come like a ghost from the grave, Mr. Ralph. And it was close here that your father stood, after the great quarrel, and swore that Dashwood Hall should see him no more. . . . And so you have come back to claim your own, sir?"
"I must be very like my father, or what my father was like forty years ago," Ralph said thoughtfully. "Sit down, Slight, please don't stand looking at me like that. I did not expect to be recognized in this way, and I am not here to claim my own, at least, not in the fashion that you mean. My father chose deliberately2 to forfeit3 his inheritance. My grandfather gave him the chance of coming into his own again. But he always refused, as you know, Slight. And now Sir George Dashwood reigns4 in his stead."
"No, no. Forty years ago there was a great upheaval6 here. It was a quarrel that could never be patched up or healed. At the bottom of it was family pride, the accursed kind of pride that stifles7 every feeling of humanity and turns hearts into flints as hard as the nether8 millstone. The upshot of that quarrel was a permanent separation between my grandfather and the present dowager Lady Dashwood; it drove my father into exile. It broke the heart of one of the best and truest women that ever lived. And all this to keep from so-called contamination the blood of the Dashwoods. Before my father went away he took steps to make his sacrifice complete. He executed a deed cutting off the entail9 of the estate, so that the late Sir Ralph could do what he pleased with it."
"I don't quite understand that, Sir Ralph," Slight said.
"Don't address me by that title," Darnley replied. "Let me explain. Most people believe that a family estate like ours cannot be left elsewhere. But if the heir likes to execute a deed for the purpose of cutting off the entail as it is called, why, the holder10 for the time being can do what he likes with the property. My father did this with his eyes wide open, and you witnessed the deed, Slight."
"I recollect11 it," Slight said slowly. He made the admission grudgingly12. "It was my task to deliver it into the hands of old Sir Ralph. If I had only known!"
"You would have destroyed it. You would have carried your loyalty13 to my father so far. But the deed was delivered to my grandfather and subsequently he made his will. For twenty years there was silence between father and son, a silence which was broken at length by the father, who wrote to the son and asked him to return. Then Sir Ralph wrote once more to my father and said that he would give the latter twenty years to decide. He had made a will at the same date as that of the second letter, leaving everything to my father, provided that within twenty years of that date he claimed his patrimony14. If the date passed, then everything was to go to the man nominated in that will. I need not say that the man so indicated was Sir George Dashwood. In other words, if I make no sign for six months, the property becomes his irrevocably. I can claim the property as my father's heir, and I can produce that will as proof of my claim."
"But the will was never found," Slight said eagerly. "We looked for a will everywhere."
"It was hidden away. In old Sir Ralph's last letter to my father he explained the hiding-place. I have only to let Sir George know where the will is, and he is safe. For the will directs the finder to the repository of the deed cutting off the entail, so that Sir George can prove his claim then to everything. At present he has no more than the income of the estate, and I have ascertained15 that he has many old debts to pay off. In addition to this he is under the thumb of a scoundrel."
"Ay, that he is," Slight muttered. "We servants learn a great deal more than you gentlemen give us credit for. That Mayfield means mischief16. They say that he's rich. But riches don't content him. He wants to marry Miss Mary. And she can't bear the look of him. If only he can ruin Sir George, his path will be clear. Miss Mary would break her heart if she had to leave this place. From a child she was brought up here, she loves every stick and stone. And she was always led to believe that some day it would belong to her, because her father was the last of the old race, seeing that we all regarded Master Ralph as dead and buried. And Miss Mary had dreams of being mistress here some day, and, maybe, dreams, too, of a good husband and children of her own. Ay, it's a terrible weapon this Mayfield has in his hands."
"So it seems," Ralph replied. "I know the rascal17 well, for he ruined my father two years ago. Mind you, at that time, I had never heard of Dashwood Park. I was merely the son of a Mr. Darnley who had done well silver mining in California. Mayfield came to us in London and we trusted him, trusted him to such an extent that nearly all we had passed into his hands. It was only on his death-bed that my father told me everything, told me what my birthright was, and how I could secure it, if I did not wait too long. So I came down here to look about me, and to my surprise I found that I had met Miss Mary before in Paris. Is she a favourite here, Slight?"
"Ay, indeed she is, sir," Slight replied. There was a ring of passionate19 sincerity20 in his speech. "We all love her dearly. Strangers think that she is cold and distant. It may be so. But we all know the heart of gold that beats under that placid21 breast. It is in times of sickness and trouble that we know of the angel in our midst. I'm not denying that Miss Mary is tainted22 with the curse of family pride. But still. . . . Ah, sir, if you ever looked out for a wife, why there is the very one for you. You the head, and she the mistress. It would be a happy day for me."
"That is just what I mean," Ralph said quietly. "Slight, I have been in love with your mistress for two long years. And I am going to marry her some day. But I have my own idea and my own way of leading up to that happiness. She must care for me for my own sake, and not because I am Sir Ralph Dashwood, of Dashwood Hall, and she a--pauper. No, no. My lady shall stoop to me, she shall tell me with her own sweet lips that a good man's love is worth all the pride of place, worth a dozen old families and a score of houses like this. Then she shall know everything, but not before."
"And that will be too late," sighed Slight. "Before that Mr. Mayfield will have ruined Sir George, and Miss Mary will marry him to save the old house. She would make any sacrifice and face any degradation23 for the sake of her pride. Though every fibre of her body may call out against the pollution of that man's touch, she would smile at him before the world and pretend to be happy. It's a dangerous experiment, Mr. Ralph, and don't you try it. I haven't lived in the world for nigh on four-score years for nothing. If you love Miss Mary, and if she comes to care for you, she'll care none the less because you are master of this good old place. And if her father is ruined----"
"My good Slight, her father is not going to be ruined. Unless I am greatly mistaken, he is exceedingly anxious to be rid of Horace Mayfield. I presume it is a mere18 matter of money, and for the sake of argument call it £50,000. Sir George owes Mayfield that sum. In the present circumstances he could not hope to repay it. A disgraceful bankruptcy24 may follow, a criminal collapse25 even, for Mayfield would not hesitate where his desires and interests are concerned. But suppose I could show Sir George a way to get this money? In that case he could rid himself of that scoundrel at any sacrifice. I have only to let Sir George know where the will is hidden and he is free."
"It would be wrong, sir, cruelly wrong to yourself," Slight cried. "You could never appear after that and claim your own. Sir George would be no more than an innocent impostor. And you, the real master of Dashwood, would be compelled to earn your bread."
"I don't see it exactly," Ralph smiled. "My father never intended to claim his inheritance. He cut himself off from England deliberately. And after all these years, would it not be a cruel thing to deprive Miss Mary of a home which she has come to regard as her own? But I have made up my mind, Slight, and nothing shall deter26 me from it. You may call me a visionary and a dreamer if you like, but my hands are strong and capable, and I have been taught to use my head. I want you to be discreet27 and silent; I want you to be my witness when the time comes. I should not have taken you into my confidence, but that you recognized me at once. All day I have been wandering about the dear old place. I have studied all its ancient beauties. We can't wonder that Miss Mary has come to regard it as part of her life. It has cost me more than a passing effort to restrain my covetousness28."
Ralph stifled29 a sigh as he looked about him. He could see the fine old house clear cut against the sky; in the park the oaks and beeches30 hung like great sentinels guarding the home of the ages. And it was so still and peaceful, so suggestive of all that is worth having in life. A cry from somewhere broke the perfect silence, the bleat31 of a sheep from distant pastures.
"It shall be as you wish, sir," Slight said at length. "I could never refuse your father anything, and I can refuse you nothing when you look at me out of the past with his eyes. But sorrow and trouble will come of this; you mark my words."
"No, no," Ralph cried as he rose to his feet. "True and sterling32 happiness, the death and destruction of the family pride which has been our curse for many generations. I am going my own way to work and you are going to help me. Now come and show me the big window in the staircase that my father used when he wanted to leave the house late at night to visit poor Maria Edgerton, the child-wife, the child of the people, who was killed by our family pride as surely as if she had been murdered. My mother was a good woman, Slight, she had her husband's respect and affection, but his heart was always with the girl who suffered so much to become his wife. I hope that her grave has never been neglected, Slight."
"No, sir," Slight said huskily. "We have seen to that--her ladyship and myself between us. That is the window, sir, the big stained glass one with the light behind it. You can get up on to the leads with the aid of the ivy33. At the bottom of the window is a brass34 knob. If you press it, the window opens inwards, and there you are. But I hope you don't need to burgle your own house, seeing that you are a welcome guest there. And, as I was saying just now----"
The speaker paused, for the soft, rich silence of the night was broken by a cry. The long drawing-room window leading to the lawn was still open; the lamplight flooded on pictures and china and flowers. A figure came to the window, a tall figure with upraised hands and hair wild and dishevelled.
"You scoundrel," the figure cried. "You have done this to ruin me!"
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1
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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forfeit
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| vt.丧失；n.罚金，罚款，没收物 | |
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reigns
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| n.君主的统治( reign的名词复数 )；君主统治时期；任期；当政期 | |
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doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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upheaval
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| n.胀起，(地壳)的隆起；剧变，动乱 | |
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stifles
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的第三人称单数 )； 镇压，遏制 | |
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8
nether
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| adj.下部的，下面的；n.阴间；下层社会 | |
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entail
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| vt.使承担，使成为必要，需要 | |
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10
holder
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| n.持有者，占有者；(台，架等)支持物 | |
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11
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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grudgingly
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13
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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patrimony
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| n.世袭财产，继承物 | |
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15
ascertained
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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17
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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18
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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19
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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bankruptcy
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| n.破产；无偿付能力 | |
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collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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deter
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| vt.阻止，使不敢，吓住 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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covetousness
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29
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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30
beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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31
bleat
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| v.咩咩叫，(讲)废话，哭诉；n.咩咩叫，废话，哭诉 | |
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32
sterling
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| adj.英币的(纯粹的，货真价实的)；n.英国货币(英镑) | |
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33
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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