Dan and old Isaac had been lying hid all day like a couple of leopards1 in one of the sloping shrubberies that closed in the garden on the west. Their patience had been rewarded, for they had seen Bess appear for that fatal moment upon the terrace when she had taken leave of Jeffray when he rode to Rookhurst. They had watched her return into the house, pass the windows of the dining-room and seat herself at the window of the blue parlor2. Her own dreamy and passionate3 sense of security had delivered her into her husband’s hands. Dan and Isaac had crept round to the eastern end of the terrace, entered with masterly boldness at the porch door, and caught Bess alone in the blue parlor. The girl had fought like a wild thing, only to be stunned4 by Dan in savage5 impatience6 with a blow from the hilt of his hanger7. In the hall he had come face to face with Dick Wilson rushing, pistols in fists, from the library. The painter, nothing of a marksman, had fired at Isaac and missed, and taken a cut across the pate8 from Dan’s hanger for his pains. Peter Gladden, discreetly9 deaf to all this pother, had only run to Mr. Wilson’s help when he was assured that such dangerous ruffians as the Grimshaws had departed. Officious to the point of fanaticism10 when the peril11 was past, he had scuttled12 away to rouse the grooms13 in the stable, and had stormed and hectored when the fellows displayed no overmastering desire to give chase to the Grimshaws over Rodenham heath.
During Peter Gladden’s explanations and Mr. Wilson’s condemnation14 of his own carelessness, the thunder-storm had burst over the old house. Great lightning cracks streamed across the sky; the wind labored15 and gathered itself into spasmodic and mournful gusts16; the tall trees battled one with another; rain rattled17 on the broad-leaved laurels18 and hollies19. The very deeps of the old house seemed to quiver beneath the mighty20 reverberations of the heavens. Gray sheets of rain dimmed the landscape, and shrouded21 the struggling and wind-tossed trees.
Gladden, querulous and uneasy, moved to the library window and closed it against the rain. Jeffray was standing22 motionless in the centre of the room, looking at the bands of blood-blotched linen23 about Dick Wilson’s head. He turned to the table abruptly24, picked up the pistols the painter had used so clumsily, and glanced at the flints and the priming-pans. Going to an old armoire that stood in the far corner, he opened it and took out a leather belt that carried a powder-flask25, a bag of bullets, and a hunting-knife. He loaded and primed the empty pistol, buckled26 the belt about his body, and then spoke27 to Gladden in a quiet and determined28 voice.
Gladden stared at his master incredulously.
“Do you hear me, Gladden?”
“I do, sir.”
“Then obey my orders. Quick with you, and see that the brandy flask is filled and strapped30 to the saddle with the holsters.”
The butler slouched away, unbuttoning and buttoning his coat in agitation31. Wilson, who was weak from loss of blood, and had been listening to Jeffray’s orders, staggered up from his chair, and faced his friend.
“Where are you going, sir?” he asked, almost roughly.
“To Pevensel, Dick.”
“To Pevensel?”
“Where else—after what has happened?”
The painter stretched out his hands as though to plant them appealingly on Jeffray’s shoulders. Richard drew two steps back from him with a slight frown.
“Are you mad, sir?—are you mad?”
“No, I am not mad, Dick.”
“They will murder you, sir. I tell you they are desperate men.”
“So am I, Dick,” said the other, simply.
Wilson beat his left fist into his right palm.
“You can’t ride out in such weather. Wait and get help; take your servants with you if you must meddle32 in this mad business.”
Jeffray appeared unmoved by the suggestion.
“I am taking my own life in my hands, Dick,” he said. “There is nothing else for me to do. They are desperate men, you say; I grant it you. They will murder this woman, Dick, and I, too—am desperate. The law will not help me. I tell you I am going to Pevensel to try and save her, though she be another man’s wife.”
Wilson, with a helpless gesture, sank back into his chair.
“I see that I waste my words,” he said.
“Good-bye, Dick; give me your hand.”
The sky was breaking in the west when Jeffray mounted his black mare, rode down through the park, and passed the gibbet on Rodenham heath. A splendor34 of rain-drenched gold streamed from under the lifting edge of the clouds. The whole landscape grew bathed in a flood of slanting35 light. The moorland and the green woods flashed and glittered; masses of wild tawny36 vapor37 crowned the heights of Pevensel. Rain was still falling lightly from the black clouds above, but the mutterings of the thunder and the streaks38 of fire were passing southward towards the sea.
Jeffray left the road below Beacon39 Rock and crossed the heath towards the forest. His eyes, dark and alert in his sallow face, searched the waste for signs of life. A solitary40 plover41 flapped and wailed42 against the sun, but for all else the wilderness43 and the welkin seemed deserted44. Soon Jeffray was riding down the long slope that fell away towards the purlieus of the forest. He found the path that Bess had shown him of old, and passed in under the trees.
Pevensel was a magic wilderness that evening, with the sunlight flooding through from the wet west, and every bough45 glistening46 with dew. Under the pines the damp mast shone a deep rich bronze. The scent47 of the rain-drenched bracken and the pines steamed up into the slanting sunlight. Jeffray had no eye for the mere48 beauty of it at that moment. All tangible49 things were without significance save when they prompted the vigilance of the senses. The trees were a dumb and unmeaning multitude, the sunlight a curse when it blurred50 and obscured the distance. Jeffray had no vision before him save the vision of Bess lying senseless and broken in Dan’s great arms.
A confused sound of voices came suddenly to Jeffray through the forest, as he neared the broad ride known as White Hind51 walk. He reined52 in to listen, heard the gruff and angry growling53 of men’s voices rising from the deeps below him. Pushing on cautiously he came to where the ride clove54 a great pathway through the forest, and, putting spurs to his mare, dashed across it at a canter. As he flashed across the open he caught a glimpse of a line of pack-horses being driven at a trot55 along the ride some two hundred paces towards the south. Men were cursing and belaboring56 the beasts with sticks, the fierce and strenuous57 figures looming58 dim and blurred under the light through the trees. The significance of the thing flashed through Jeffray’s mind, as he held the mare well in hand and swung along the winding59 path, dodging60 the swooping61 boughs62 as they trailed above his head. He had seen a smuggling63 cavalcade64 threading through the forest, in some peril of capture, to judge by the way the men were beating the pack-horses. Jeffray remembered, at the same moment, the cornet and the light-horse at Rodenham village. There might be fighting afoot, and what if the Grimshaws were entangled65 in the scrimmage?
It was not long before the trees began to thin before him, the open west shining a wall of amber66 pilastered by the dark boles of the pines. Jeffray, growing cautious, dismounted and led his mare aside from the path, and tethered her in a slight hollow of the ground where she was hidden from the path by undergrowth and bracken. He took the pistols out of the holsters, reprimed them, and pushed on towards the hamlet. Looking down from the converging67 aisles68 of the forest, he saw the green break in the woods lying calm and quiet under the western sun. The place appeared deserted and silent, save for a few cows with swelling69 udders that were waiting at a byre-gate to be milked.
Jeffray’s eyes fixed70 themselves upon the cottage farthest from him. The gray walls were half hidden by the apple-trees of old Isaac’s orchard71. The cottage was Dan Grimshaw’s cottage; Bess had spoken of it to Jeffray, and he recognized it from her words. But what was more significant to him for the moment was that a man stood leaning against the rough fencing of the garden with a musket72 lying in the crook73 of his left arm. The sunlight flashed on the long barrel, and the faint sound of the man’s whistling came up to Jeffray in the woods. He felt convinced, as he scanned the hamlet, that the Grimshaws were entangled in the smuggling enterprise, that Bess was in the cottage, and that they had left one of their men on guard.
There was no time to be wasted, and Jeffray, casting a half circle round the clearing, came to the thickets74 to the north of the cottage. The trees grew close to the garden on the north and west. Crouching75 behind the bracken, Jeffray won a clear view of the man leaning against the fence. He was Enoch, Solomon Grimshaw’s eldest76 son, a raw-boned lout77, with a red beard fringing his chin. He was whistling a country song, dandling his musket lazily on his left arm, and taking his duty very stolidly78.
Jeffray’s wit served him at the crisis. He slipped back from the bracken, and skirted round under the trees till he came to the back of the cottage. There was no second door to it, and the narrow lattices were closed. He gained the back of the cottage, moved step by step to the angle of the wall, and peered round it with his pistols ready. An apple-tree half hid from him the man leaning against the fence. The fellow was still whistling stolidly, and seemed in no fear of a surprise.
The grass path gave Jeffray the advantage that he needed. He crept on till he reached the farther edge of the cottage, and had the broad back of Solomon’s son in full view. Covering the man with one of his pistols, he stamped his foot, and kept his finger tight upon the trigger.
The man by the fence whipped round as though he had been touched on the shoulder. The levelled pistol, with the black circle of the muzzle79 covering him, appeared to astonish him considerably80.
“Put down your musket, or I fire.”
The clear, tense tones rang out like a pistol-shot. Solomon’s son hesitated and obeyed.
“Hold up your hands.”
A pair of dirty paws went up.
“March off ten paces.”
Jeffray advanced on the fellow from the cottage. His last command was obeyed with such exaggerated nimbleness that Jeffray saw the sentinel take to his heels and scud81 towards the woods. He held his fire, and, reaching over the fence, possessed82 himself of the abandoned musket. He had hardly turned back towards the cottage when he heard the sound of shouting coming from the forest. He ran up the path and put his shoulders to the door of the cottage. It was locked and the key was gone. Clinching83 his teeth, he levelled the musket and blew in the lock. The door yielded to him, and he crossed the threshold.
One rapid glance showed Bess lying full length upon the oak table, bound wrist and ankle, the cords passing also about her body. The voices increased in volume rapidly. Jeffray ran to the door, and looked out. Pack-horses were being driven from the clearing into the woods; men were rushing to and fro in the sunlight, cursing, and cutting the bales from the beasts’ backs. Jeffray saw Solomon’s son shouting and waving his arm in the direction of Dan’s cottage. Several figures broke away from the mob of pack-horses and gathered round the man. Jeffray slammed the door to, shot the heavy bolts, snatched the wooden bar from the corner and ran it through the staples84. He turned back into the room, took the knife from the sheath at his belt, and cut the cords that bound Bess.
She struggled up, flung her arms round Jeffray, and kissed him on the lips.
“Yes, yes.”
“Give me the musket. I can fight.”
Jeffray gave the musket into her hands, looked at his pistols, laid his sword upon the table and the belt that carried the powder-flask and bullets.
“Load it,” he said, quietly; “ram home several slugs. Kneel down behind the chair.”
Bess, giving him a fierce love glance, did as he commanded her.
“Watch the window; I will hold the door. Reload for me if you can. We shall have the whole smuggling crew on us in a moment.”
Even as he spoke they heard the sound of men running. Heavy footsteps came up the path towards the cottage. They heard Dan’s voice roaring at them, bidding them open to him, or they would break down the door.
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1
leopards
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| n.豹( leopard的名词复数 )；本性难移 | |
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2
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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3
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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4
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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5
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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6
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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7
hanger
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| n.吊架，吊轴承；挂钩 | |
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8
pate
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| n.头顶；光顶 | |
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9
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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10
fanaticism
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| n.狂热，盲信 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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12
scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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13
grooms
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| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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14
condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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15
labored
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| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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16
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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17
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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18
laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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19
hollies
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| n.冬青（常绿灌木，叶尖而硬，有光泽，冬季结红色浆果）( holly的名词复数 )；（用作圣诞节饰物的）冬青树枝 | |
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20
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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21
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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22
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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23
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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24
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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25
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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26
buckled
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| a. 有带扣的 | |
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27
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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28
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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29
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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30
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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31
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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32
meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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33
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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34
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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35
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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36
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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37
vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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38
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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39
beacon
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| n.烽火，（警告用的）闪火灯，灯塔 | |
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40
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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41
plover
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| n.珩，珩科鸟，千鸟 | |
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42
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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44
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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45
bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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46
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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47
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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48
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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49
tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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50
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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51
hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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52
reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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53
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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54
clove
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| n.丁香味 | |
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55
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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56
belaboring
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| v.毒打一顿( belabor的现在分词 )；责骂；就…作过度的说明；向…唠叨 | |
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57
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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58
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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59
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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60
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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61
swooping
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的现在分词 ) | |
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62
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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63
smuggling
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| n.走私 | |
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64
cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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65
entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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67
converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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68
aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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69
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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70
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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71
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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72
musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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73
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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74
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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75
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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lout
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| n.粗鄙的人；举止粗鲁的人 | |
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78
stolidly
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| adv.迟钝地，神经麻木地 | |
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muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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80
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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81
scud
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| n.疾行；v.疾行 | |
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82
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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83
clinching
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的现在分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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84
staples
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| n.（某国的）主要产品( staple的名词复数 )；钉书钉；U 形钉；主要部份v.用钉书钉钉住( staple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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85
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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