On the veranda1 of the unoccupied house above the jail Nan Keith stood rigid2, her hand upon her heart. During the period of the committee's absence inside the jail she did not alter her position by a hair's breadth. She was in the hypnosis of a portentous3 waiting. Time fell into the abyss of eternity4: whether it were ten minutes or ten hours did not matter in the least.
For this was to Nan in the nature of a revelation so sudden and so complete that it filled her whole soul. Had she known what Mrs. Sherwood was taking her to see, she would have pre-visualized a drunken, disorderly, howling, bloodthirsty mob; a huge composite of brawling5 antagonisms6, of blind fury, of vulgar irrationalisms. Here were men filled with purpose; This was what caught at her breath--the grim silent purpose of it! The orderly progression of events, moving with the certainty of a fate, was like the steady crescendo7 of solemn music. And this crescendo rose in her as a tide of emotion that overflowed8 and drowned her. The right and wrong--as she had examined them intellectually or through, the darkened glasses of her caste prejudices--were quite lost. This was merely something primitive9, wonderful, beautiful. The spectacle was at the moment of suspense10, yet she felt so impatience--the wheel must turn in its own majestic11 circle--but only an intense expectation. And in this she felt, subconsciously12, that she was one with the multitude.
The jail door swung open. The committee came out. In the middle of their compact group walked a stranger.
"Casey!" breathed a vast voice from the crowd.
An indescribable burst of grateful relief fluttered across the upturned faces as a breeze across water. It was almost timid at first, but gathered strength as it spread. It rolled up the hillside. A great, deep breath seemed to fill the lungs of the throng13. The murmur14 swelled15 suddenly, was on the point of bursting into the frantic16 cheering of twenty thousand men.
But Coleman, his hat removed, raised his hand. In obedience17 to the simple gesture the cheer was stifled18. In an instant all was still. The little group entered the carriages, which immediately wheeled and drove away.
Nan, standing19 bolt upright, her attitude still unchanged, caught her breath at the inhibition of the cheer. She did not even try to wink20 away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. Through them she saw the troops wheel with the precision of veterans, and march away after the carriages. The crowd melted slowly. Soon were left only the inscrutable jail, the gun still pointed21 at its door, the rigid ranks of Olney's Sixty, who had evidently been left on guard, and a few stragglers.
Suddenly she turned and walked away. Mrs. Sherwood followed her as rapidly as she could, but did not succeed in catching22 up with her. At the corner below the Keiths' house she stopped, watched until Nan had gained her own dooryard, then turned toward home, a smile sketching23 her lips, a light in her eyes.
Nan flung open her door and went directly to the parlour. She stood in the doorway24 contemplating25 the scene. It was very cozy26. The afternoon sun slanted27 through the high-narrow windows of the period, gilding28 the dust motes29 floating lazily to and fro. The tea table, set with a snowy doth, glittered invitingly30, its silver and porcelain31, its plates of dainty sandwiches and thin waferlike cookies--Wing Sam's specialty--enticingly displayed. Two easy chairs had been drawn32 close, and, before the unoccupied one a low footstool had been placed. Ben Sansome sat in the other. He was, as usual, exquisitely33 dressed. All his little appointments were not only correct but worn easily. The varicoloured waistcoat, the sparkling studs and cravat34 pins, the bright, soft silk tie, were all subdued35 from their ordinary too-vivid effect by the grace with which they were carried. Nan saw all this, and appreciated it dispassionately, appraising36 him anew through clarified vision. Especially she noticed the waxed ends of his small moustache. He had, at the sound of her entrance, lighted the tea kettle; and as she came in he smiled up at her brightly.
"You see," he cried gayly, "I am doing your task for you! I have the lamp all lit!"
She paid no attention to this, but advanced two steps into the room.
"Which side are you on, anyway?" she asked abruptly37 and a little harshly.
Sansome raised his eyebrows38 in faint and fastidious surprise.
"Dear lady, what do you mean?"
"The only thing I can mean in these times: are you with the Law and Order, or with the Committee of Vigilance?"
Sansome shrugged39 his shoulders whimsically and sank back into his chair.
"How can you ask that, dear lady?" he begged pathetically. "You would not class me with the rabble40, I hope."
But Nan did not in the slightest degree respond to the lightness of his tone. Her own was cold and detached.
"I do not know how to class you," she said. "But I asked you a question."
Sansome arose to his feet again. His manner now became sympathetic, but into it had crept the least hint of resentment41,
"I don't understand your mood" he told her. "You are overwrought."
Nan's self-control slipped by ever so little. She did not actually stamp her foot, but her delivery of her next speech achieved that for her.
"Will you answer me?" she demanded. "Which side, are you on?"
"I am on the side every gentleman is on," replied Sansome, a trifle stung. "The side of the law."
"Then," she cried, with a sudden intensity42, "why weren't you there--on your side--defending the jail?' Why are you here?"
Ben Sansome's knowledge of women was wide, and he therefore imagined it profound. Here he recognized the symptoms of hysteria; cause unknown. He adopted the lightly soothing43.
"I thought I was asked here!" he cried with quizzical mock pathos44.
She stared at him a contemplative instant so steadily45 that he coloured. She was not seeing him, however; she was seeing Keith, standing with his fellows in the open, under the walls of the jail and its hidden guns. With a short laugh she turned away.
"You were," said she. "Help yourself to tea. As you say, I am overwrought. I am going to lie down."
Her one compelling instinct now was to get away from him before something in her brain snapped. He became soothing.
"Won't you have a cup of tea first?" he urged. "It will do you good."
"A cup of tea!" she repeated with deadly calm. It seemed such an ending to such a day! She tried to laugh, but strangled in her throat; and she bolted wildly from the room, leaving Ben Sansome staring.
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1
veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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brawling
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| n.争吵，喧嚷 | |
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antagonisms
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| 对抗，敌对( antagonism的名词复数 ) | |
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crescendo
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| n.(音乐)渐强，高潮 | |
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overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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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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subconsciously
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| ad.下意识地，潜意识地 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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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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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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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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sketching
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| n.草图 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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cozy
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| adj.亲如手足的，密切的，暖和舒服的 | |
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slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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gilding
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| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
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motes
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| n.尘埃( mote的名词复数 )；斑点 | |
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invitingly
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| adv. 动人地 | |
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porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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32
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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appraising
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| v.估价( appraise的现在分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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39
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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41
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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42
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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43
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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