New Year. The old, shabby, inglorious outlived calendar came down. The new one went up. January was a month of storms. It snowed for three weeks on end. The thermometer went miles below zero and stayed there. But, as Barney and Valancy pointed1 out to each other, there were no mosquitoes. And the roar and crackle of their big fire drowned the howls of the north wind. Good Luck and Banjo waxed fat and developed resplendent coats of thick, silky fur. Nip and Tuck had gone.
“But they’ll come back in spring,” promised Barney.
There was no monotony. Sometimes they had dramatic little private spats2 that never even thought of becoming quarrels. Sometimes Roaring Abel dropped in—for an evening or a whole day—with his old tartan cap and his long red beard coated with snow. He generally brought his fiddle3 and played for them, to the delight of all except Banjo, who would go temporarily insane and retreat under Valancy’s bed. Sometimes Abel and Barney talked while Valancy made candy for them; sometimes they sat and smoked in silence à la Tennyson and Carlyle, until the Blue Castle reeked4 and Valancy fled to the open. Sometimes they played checkers fiercely and silently the whole night through. Sometimes they all ate the russet apples Abel had brought, while the jolly old clock ticked the delightful5 minutes away.
“A plate of apples, an open fire, and ‘a jolly goode booke whereon to looke’ are a fair substitute for heaven,” vowed6 Barney. “Any one can have the streets of gold. Let’s have another whack7 at Carman.”
It was easier now for the Stirlings to believe Valancy of the dead. Not even dim rumours8 of her having been over at the Port came to trouble them, though she and Barney used to skate there occasionally to see a movie and eat hot dogs shamelessly at the corner stand afterwards. Presumably none of the Stirlings ever thought about her—except Cousin Georgiana, who used to lie awake worrying about poor Doss. Did she have enough to eat? Was that dreadful creature good to her? Was she warm enough at nights?
Valancy was quite warm at nights. She used to wake up and revel9 silently in the cosiness10 of those winter nights on that little island in the frozen lake. The nights of other winters had been so cold and long. Valancy hated to wake up in them and think about the bleakness11 and emptiness of the day that had passed and the bleakness and emptiness of the day that would come. Now, she almost counted that night lost on which she didn’t wake up and lie awake for half an hour just being happy, while Barney’s regular breathing went on beside her, and through the open door the smouldering brands in the fireplace winked12 at her in the gloom. It was very nice to feel a little Lucky cat jump up on your bed in the darkness and snuggle down at your feet, purring; but Banjo would be sitting dourly14 by himself out in front of the fire like a brooding demon15. At such moments Banjo was anything but canny16, but Valancy loved his uncanniness.
The side of the bed had to be right against the window. There was no other place for it in the tiny room. Valancy, lying there, could look out of the window, through the big pine boughs17 that actually touched it, away up Mistawis, white and lustrous18 as a pavement of pearl, or dark and terrible in the storm. Sometimes the pine boughs tapped against the panes19 with friendly signals. Sometimes she heard the little hissing20 whisper of snow against them right at her side. Some nights the whole outer world seemed given over to the empery of silence; then came nights when there would be a majestic21 sweep of wind in the pines; nights of dear starlight when it whistled freakishly and joyously22 around the Blue Castle; brooding nights before storm when it crept along the floor of the lake with a low, wailing23 cry of boding24 and mystery. Valancy wasted many perfectly25 good sleeping hours in these delightful communings. But she could sleep as long in the morning as she wanted to. Nobody cared. Barney cooked his own breakfast of bacon and eggs and then shut himself up in Bluebeard’s Chamber26 till supper time. Then they had an evening of reading and talk. They talked about everything in this world and a good many things in other worlds. They laughed over their own jokes until the Blue Castles re-echoed.
“You do laugh beautifully,” Barney told her once. “It makes me want to laugh just to hear you laugh. There’s a trick about your laugh—as if there were so much more fun back of it that you wouldn’t let out. Did you laugh like that before you came to Mistawis, Moonlight?”
“I never laughed at all—really. I used to giggle27 foolishly when I felt I was expected to. But now—the laugh just comes.”
It struck Valancy more than once that Barney himself laughed a great deal oftener than he used to and that his laugh had changed. It had become wholesome28. She rarely heard the little cynical29 note in it now. Could a man laugh like that who had crimes on his conscience? Yet Barney must have done something. Valancy had indifferently made up her mind as to what he had done. She concluded he was a defaulting bank cashier. She had found in one of Barney’s books an old clipping cut from a Montreal paper in which a vanished, defaulting cashier was described. The description applied30 to Barney—as well as to half a dozen other men Valancy knew—and from some casual remarks he had dropped from time to time she concluded he knew Montreal rather well. Valancy had it all figured out in the back of her mind. Barney had been in a bank. He was tempted31 to take some money to speculate—meaning, of course, to put it back. He had got in deeper and deeper, until he found there was nothing for it but flight. It had happened so to scores of men. He had, Valancy was absolutely certain, never meant to do wrong. Of course, the name of the man in the clipping was Bernard Craig. But Valancy had always thought Snaith was an alias32. Not that it mattered.
Valancy had only one unhappy night that winter. It came in late March when most of the snow had gone and Nip and Tuck had returned. Barney had gone off in the afternoon for a long, woodland tramp, saying he would be back by dark if all went well. Soon after he had gone it had begun to snow. The wind rose and presently Mistawis was in the grip of one of the worst storms of the winter. It tore up the lake and struck at the little house. The dark angry woods on the mainland scowled33 at Valancy, menace in the toss of their boughs, threats in their windy gloom, terror in the roar of their hearts. The trees on the island crouched34 in fear. Valancy spent the night huddled35 on the rug before the fire, her face buried in her hands, when she was not vainly peering from the oriel in a futile36 effort to see through the furious smoke of wind and snow that had once been blue-dimpled Mistawis. Where was Barney? Lost on the merciless lakes? Sinking exhausted37 in the drifts of the pathless woods? Valancy died a hundred deaths that night and paid in full for all the happiness of her Blue Castle. When morning came the storm broke and cleared; the sun shone gloriously over Mistawis; and at noon Barney came home. Valancy saw him from the oriel as he came around a wooded point, slender and black against the glistening38 white world. She did not run to meet him. Something happened to her knees and she dropped down on Banjo’s chair. Luckily Banjo got out from under in time, his whiskers bristling39 with indignation. Barney found her there, her head buried in her hands.
“Barney, I thought you were dead,” she whispered.
“After two years of the Klondike did you think a baby storm like this could get me? I spent the night in that old lumber41 shanty42 over by Muskoka. A bit cold but snug13 enough. Little goose! Your eyes look like burnt holes in a blanket. Did you sit up here all night worrying over an old woodsman like me?”
“Yes,” said Valancy. “I—couldn’t help it. The storm seemed so wild. Anybody might have been lost in it. When—I saw you—come round the point—there—something happened to me. I don’t know what. It was as if I had died and come back to life. I can’t describe it any other way.”
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1
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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2
spats
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| n.口角( spat的名词复数 )；小争吵；鞋罩；鞋套v.spit的过去式和过去分词( spat的第三人称单数 )；口角；小争吵；鞋罩 | |
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3
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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4
reeked
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的过去式和过去分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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whack
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| v.敲击，重打，瓜分；n.重击，重打，尝试，一份 | |
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8
rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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9
revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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10
cosiness
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| n.舒适，安逸 | |
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11
bleakness
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| adj. 萧瑟的, 严寒的, 阴郁的 | |
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12
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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13
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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14
dourly
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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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canny
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| adj.谨慎的，节俭的 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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23
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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boding
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| adj.凶兆的，先兆的n.凶兆，前兆，预感v.预示，预告，预言( bode的现在分词 )；等待，停留( bide的过去分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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26
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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27
giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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29
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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32
alias
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| n.化名；别名；adv.又名 | |
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33
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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34
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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36
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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37
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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38
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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39
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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40
hooted
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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42
shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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